My London Coat Hanger

Greetings from the other side! Here I am in the Pearl of Africa. I finally got an internet stick today so I decided its officially time to start getting down to buisness. You know, research, classes, reading, BLOGGING. You can see where my priorities are. But before I jump into Uganda I think I need to devote a post to my 12 hours in London. Because it was pretty magical. And it came first chronologically.

Alright. So on Wednesday before I left, my mom and I ran a bunch of errands and honestly I think we were both a bit stressed out. I was leaving my family for a few months which isn't abnormal because I go to school in Utah. But there is something magical about summers in St. Louis with my nephews. So it was sad to leave that portion of my summer behind.

The flight to Chicago was pretty uneventful. In fact, I literally can't remember it. Which is slightly incredible. Once I got off the plane in Chicago, I had to switch terminals. This is the first time I've ever had to do that in O'Hare. So I took the airport tram to the other terminal and just walking into that terminal already felt like being in a foreign country. There was a lot of BO in the line for security which was unorganized and crowded. There were many languages all around me. There was a middle eastern family crying then laughing and then crying as they said goodbye to a young man. It was really sweet. But with all the jostling, I only got through security with enough time to buy a water and a snack and then I was boarding the flight to London.

This was a good flight. I stepped on, started hearing the English accents and had this moment of !!!. The more I heard the more I was like am I sure I don't just want to stay here? I love England. I know England. It's familiar! Oh! But best of all, I was in the row at the front of my section of the cabin so there was a wall instead of seats in front of me ie lots of leg room and personal tvs that pull up rather than attach the seat in front.

I have this theory that the people you sit next to on international flights never really leave you. It's a weirdly intimate experience to travel halfway around the world two millimeters away from a perfect stranger trying to sleep without touching them. I remember my cute young middle eastern guy on my trip to France. I remember the black hoddie band man last year. Funny...maybe its only people on outgoing flights. Anyway, the ladies sitting next to me were middle aged sisters. At first I was intimidated by them but eventually we started talking. I found out that they grew up in London and had been in the Midwest with two girlfriends for the week to do a roller coaster tour. How unique! I also found out that one of them works for a children's charity in London. What are the odds that I would be sitting right next to someone doing something so similar to my dream?

They asked about what I would do during my layover. I told them I wasn't sure. Which is weird because I actually had a very specific plan laid out: Tower of London, Oxford street, pick up the books I want, back to airport. But I think I was afraid they might make fun of my Tower of London plan. So, as actual Londoners, I asked for their opinion. It was the middle of the night, high up in the sky, the women next to me had just finished their third cup of wine (I feel like this would only be complimentary on a European flight) and the barriers came down between us. Since I couldn't follow all of the lady's instructions I had her write them down on my tube map I had printed off the internet. This is the result:

Pretty awesome right! They basically just drew up this treasure hunt for me. Along with more general explanations, here is what it said:

"Heathrow=change@ Holburn onto Central Line going east to St Pauls. Get off & see cathedral then follow signs for Millennium bridge = cross river on bridge to Tate Modern = have a look = head towards Blackfriars walk along South bank/ see Hayward Gallery from outside / can go inside Royal Festival Hall for free / underbelly space is free/ask at festival hall for free programme  of June events you can pick up from festival hall places to eat and drink. keep walking along the river (if you want) towards parliament* Once at Parliament walk up towards Trafalgar Square, past 10 Downing Street/changing of the guard/Trafalgar Sq then National Gallery/also National Portrait gallery?Leicester Sq premiers & a little garden then back."

WHEW! She and her sister emphasized that I wouldn't be able to do it all. The one writing turned to me saying, see a plan is like a coat hanger. It's just a structure to try things on and take things off of. Nothing permanent. And then she drew a picture of a little hanger, added squiggles for wire and wrote "your London coat hanger" next to it.

Brilliant.

Well when two middle aged British amusement park tourists draw you a map with step by step instructions at 2 in the morning, I'm pretty sure the only sane response is to follow it! So Tower of London got chucked off the list and follow it I did!

There were logistics like putting money on my oyster card for the London underground and then of course the hour long ride into the city. There were minor setbacks like insistent  rain and my inability to find an umbrella- I ended up buying a cheap one. There was the fact that I found myself sitting in a little window alcove of St Pauls popping my malaria pills with my hair frizzing out around me and my thick glasses sliding down my nose looking like a hobo. There was the moment when a group of girls blatantly laughed at me as my umbrella flew inside out on the Millennium Bridge whilst I tried to take a picture. There was the rain giving my tired feet blisters as I walked for hours and there was, oh yes, the fact that technically it was the middle of the night for my inner clock.

But I followed that plan. It was just like a treasure hunt and my Londoners didn't let me down. I got pulled into a Free Palestine Rally (not literally, I just talked to a hipster dude giving out leaflets), I walked around the  Tate Modern and saw some pretty cool Rothko-esque work. I walked southward along the Thames running into some over-sized couches made out of grass whose purpose weren't entirely clear. I walked past the aquarium, past the London eye and finally, FINALLY (my feet were getting tired) I was at Parliament. Whenever I see parliament I just can't help but grin. I dare you to look at that building and not at least smile. You're in London, man! You're alone, you're on your way to Africa, for the very first time in your life you are navigating a subway system by yourself (successfully, I might add!) and it is THE coolest feeling in the world. Who cares that I looked like a train wreck. I felt alive.

Well, I walked up to Parliament and stood at the little convience store across the street, distinctly remembering the time wmy buddies and I stopped there at that same shop for quick food just last summer. I had a choice to make. More walking to see Downing Street etc. or off to Oxford Street which was part of my original plan. Well, embracing the image of the coat hanger I decided that it was time to try my coat on. So I headed down to the underground and caught the train to Oxford Street. Oxford Street was really cool and I would totally have drank it up if I had a friend, wasn't tired, didn't have a huge backpack and wasn't dripping rain. Window shopping and hipster hunting was fun though. Eventually I started asking people for the nearest bookstore. This lead to a series of boomerangs for me. I crossed Charring Cross Road and the "We Will Rock You" theater like 6 times. Too far one way and then the other, I kept asking for directions from all the wrong people.

Finally I aproached some men handing out free yogourt as a promotion. Turning the yougourt down (I already had two), I asked if they knew where the nearest book store was. Book store? They looked at me with good natures bemusement.

"We're here handing out free yogourt, do you think any of us has ever read a book in his life?"

said one of the men. It totally made my day. Eventually one of the guys sorted me out with very reliable directions and after a bit of finagling around the construction, I found it! My book store. To explain a little bit, I really wanted to buy the conclusion books to this series that only came out in the UK. I started it last summer and I now I'm going to finish it gosh dang it. Without paying for shipping fees. As I was walking I started seeing signs with the word SoHo on them.

Now, I don't actually know what SoHo is, but it seems like it would be a magical place full of fashion and hipsters and apartments that are much too expensive. So as I was checking out my three books I abruptly asked the store clerk "am I in SoHo right now?" He laughed and just said that I was teetering on it. If I went to Greek Street I'd be in the thick of things. Was that a challenge?

I left the store, found my way to Greek Street, only a few minutes away, took a few pictures and considered one more thing checked off my bucket list. And then it really was time to go home. Excuse me? Did I say home? I meant the airport. My new best friend. So, back on the tube, switch lines, take it for an hour into Heathrow. Go through security, blah blah blah.

it seems like every time I'm in London there is a protest for Palestine

this is exactly the kind of man I would expect to see walking out of those gold adorned gates

and then this one not 3 minutes later! So quintessentially British. And yes, I people  stalk.
Get used to it.

Millennium Bridge! Very slippery! Great view of Tower Bridgde...

and the hipster London boy fashion stalking begins...

this image comforts me. I would like to swim in it.

YAYAH!! 3 cheers for the man purse!

and this is the view behind manpurse man. This is the Tate Modern museum. I mean, my next penthouse.

Ok, I don't care what you fools say, this is magical. All the black lines are zippers and its actual fabric! 

this actually solves a major mystery of one of my fb friend's profile pics awhile ago.
A bit awkward asking a stranger to take this picture.

London Eye! It had quite the line

and again with the 'random stranger please take a picture of me looking like a hijacked water monkey  in front of this famous backdrop!'

obligatory chaco picture.
I'm a bit disappointed. These shoes gave me killer blisters.
Granted I was walking for 5 hours in the rain.

I really can't even express how pleased I am for finally understanding the  underground.
Something just irrevocably clicked in my mind.
 Essential Life Skill  = conquered!

a bunch of British flags above "American Apparel" on Oxford Street
It don't get much better than that in my book.

oh so lost

Hipster man me like your fashion!

So to the Ho!

Sherlock season 1 finale anybody? Eh eh? I'm happy to join a drug syndicate with you

So, yeah  that was London. It was absolutely incredible. And its the transience that made it so unique. Imagine just stopping somewhere for a few hours, a world capital on the other side of the ocean, walking among the people, riding their transportation, thinking your own thoughts, laughing and smiling to yourself at bizarre times; imagine the quiet success of a most unusual tourist.