London, Journal Entry No. 1

Me, the day we are leaving.

So, I'm running around, scrounging to make sure I don't forget my mind (and everything in it). I've been compiling this trip forever now ... and working hard to make sure all goes off without a hitch.  For some reason, I've been nervous and anxious about it all.  Leaving home for a month and my life, work, everything, even our cute little doggies.

It felt a bit overwhelming.

I was freaking myself about flying, about everything.  But I pulled it together, so, thank you.  As soon as we arrived at the airport, I relaxed.  All the worry, anxiety, whatever other little unwanted beasts disappeared and I was good.  GOOD.

Our flight to London was at 10:50 pm.  Susan, my amazing mother in law, shared with us her little secret and dropped us off at the underground check-in area at the Atlanta airport.  It was amazing because it took a whole 5 minutes to check in, check our bags, and ta-da!  Easiest check in process ever and talk about loving that.

20" wide body, 26" Duffle, and the regular  backpack

Also, it helped that we packed our life for a month in these three small bags.  We ended up buying new luggage and some gear for this trip because we were super unequipped.  I researched and looked around a ton, finally deciding on Briggs and Riley BRX collection.  Never thought I would care so much about luggage, but we LOVE this stuff.

We had a lightness in our spirit, a quiet humbleness of gratitude for the gift of this journey.  I could see Steven starting to actually relax, which I love.  Here we go!

The plane ride was brilliant, especially with the help of a little Xanax my doctor prescribed just for the flights. That tiny little dose did my anxious and scaredy cat self wonders the whole flight. Flying was actually fun!  And so glad I booked a late night flight.  Pilot and weather = awesome.  Leg room (even for short folks like myself) = not so awesome.  We slept a few hours on and off, except for the shrieking baby here and there. Landing,easy.  Checking out of London Heathrow, easy and breezy.

We did walk past some airport employees having a time with one suitcase that was opened and super infected with something CRAZY. It smelled so rotten and fowl and dead and disgusting.  We smelled it from far away, then we see it.  Toxic, scary, crazy mess.  I have no idea what was in there, nor did I want to. How anyone could think to travel with such perishable items is beyond me.  Poor employees having to deal with that nonsense.

We grabbed a taxi to our hotel to get a peak of the city, which is hefty on the price tag FYI.  But I love the London taxis, so cool and roomy and classy.  I start to take it all in.  First thing that starts standing out in this uncharted territory (for us) is the lovely accent, I just dig it.  The drivers on an opposite side, as well as the lane on which he is driving.  It feels like many other cities, but then you realize, it's just different.  It's very own unique vibe and energy and attitude.

The architecture and bones of London are "old" and classic.  Prestige like, even if many look run down.  No new quick and easy build out of something considered "a building" - actual, real buildings that sit as if they've been sitting there for ages.  I did see little hints of modern architecture spattered in, but even those seemed more eloquent than I'd compare them to elsewhere.  Row houses of browns, whites, bricks, and marbles and limestones.  Hints of black on the white.  Large sidewalks of cut, patterned concrete, cobble like texture as well.  I see double decker buses pass me every minute ... I think the view must be fabulous up there.  I must ride this new machine that I've failed to see in real life before.  And there's bike lanes with "bike signs" and rules everywhere.  And people are actually riding bikes, a lot. Oh my.

Then I believe we went by the palace.  I could hear variations of horns and regal live music.  I turn to see uniforms and odd hats.  A ceremony of some sort was taking place to the right.  SO much going on ... people lounging in the grass, others posing with the famous red telephone booths, cute.  Then we continue to drive through the pockets of Chelsea and Kensington, which has very cool rows of buildings and a wonderful vibe.  Lovely.

We finally arrive at our hotel, h10 London Waterloo, near the Waterloo Station.  Modern and new it was ... and it sat on a corner across from a pub that always seemed to stay lively and full of beer ingested conversation.  Note: there is a pub across from everything here in London.  Fanciful delight whenever you need a break.

We receive a tasty little welcome drink, some odd form or cousin of champagne, then we go visit our little room.

The hall is modern and tight and hot as we approach.  We escalated in the elevator (which is at most half the size of American versions).  The doors and accented trim of the hall are wood, textured like oak and gilded with the faintest of a light golden bronzed brown paint, the shimmer only showing up with twists and turns of the overhead lights.  But it's hot and humid, and even though it looks so nice, they must not run air in the shared space.

Ahh, finally in London.

This is right before I crashed from jet lag.

We could not, for awhile, figure out the lights nor the plugs ... even though we brought our international plugins.  You have to insert your room card to access the lights, as well as the air.  Which everything is in Celsius in London, so we Fahrenheit lovers despair at the math conversions, constantly trying to remember the formula.  We also experienced this with the pound to dollar conversion, as well as the 24 hour clock.  Our watch and phone both set to 24 hour, but Steven insists on giving me the time of the 12 hour clock, so confusing. 

The views from our room.

So, once we check out our room for a few, welcomed with the welcome drink ... I proclaim that I just need to lay down for a few minutes.  Only I proceed to sleep for the next several hours, faintly remembering Steven nudging or speaking to me. I finally awake, feeling odd like I'm in a twilight zone, to find out I've been sleeping for hours.  At that point, I just want to go back to sleep ... but it's only 6:30 pm (or 18:30)!  My first experience with jet-lag and I don't want to go anywhere accept back to that bed, please. I had called my Dad in Hungary, as he absolutely insisted I call once in London "to be safe". I barely remember.