As anyone who has ever traveled knows, the journey does not commence with the arrival. It begins with the departure. The adventure starts as you rush to the airport at half-four for your red-eye flight. The momentum grows as you are patted-down “for your own safety” in security, a mere 15 minutes before your flight is due to leave. You begin to question your decision to travel in the first place as you step out of the Ryanair boarding line to re-pack your one carry-on item. Kneeling on the dank airport floor you throw on two sweaters, stuff a tennis-shoe in each pocket of your jacket and add a second scarf about your neck. The bag closes, you board the 757, the only seat left on the plane is next to a screaming child. You sigh and take the seat, with all the flight-attendants selling non-taxable items in-flight you probably wouldn’t have gotten any shut-eye anyway.
After breezing through customs your initial reaction upon stepping onto English soil is to stare, temporarily stupefied at the bustle of red buses, black taxi-cabs and at the monocomatically dressed Londoners. Then good ‘ole English common sense takes over and you head to the nearest underground station, hop The Tube, minding the gap while boarding and attend to the business of hosteling. Under no circumstances is it a wast of time to check-in to the hostel while it is still light; knowing where you are going to sleep for the night, getting free city maps upon check-in, having a place to drop your bags and an opportunity to gain some first-hand “go see’s” and “skip that’s” from fellow travelers as you all crowd around a city map on the dorm room floor make the journey worth it. While filling out paperwork at the hostel reception you may discover that the male receptionist is a fellow traveler, turned Londoner from the same county in the United States as you are! Needless to say this will ensure you a pub date later that evening, providing you an opportunity to discuss the politics and gossip of Stateside life.
The majority of tourist attractions are popular for a reason- the National Museum of London is one such example. It is the largest free museum in England. It houses a varied collection works including Byzantine art, Seurat, Monet, Manet and Holbein. It also has some wonderful couches in it. If your feet are aching and you feel a brief snooze is necessary to tide you over until the evening, drop onto a couch and take a five minute power-nap. After dozing you may want to become acquainted your fellow Snoozers- Nathan and his new wife, Alice hail from Kent. They traveled to London for their honeymoon. After a long night -cough cough, blush- they felt they needed a moments respite and a “cupa” before soldiering on through the museum. You should always take advantage of such “cupa” opportunities, a tea including new acquaintances and a learning curve is much pleasanter than a meal alone.
Just outside the National Museum in Trafalgar Square cliche photo opportunities are available at any moment. In such high-profile areas feel free to stop any nearby attractive boy to take a photo of you, and maybe with you, so that all of your solo-travel pictures are not MySpace profile pictures. There is no shame in peace signs, smiling or fun faces in travel photos. Facial expressions tell volumes.
Currently there is a commercial campaign for VIENNA taking place in the Square. This means you have the opportunity to repel face-forwards off a 40 foot high wall for free. (Just make sure the boy you hand your camera too understands how to use it and does not accidentally turn it off thereby missing some grand photo ops as you are suspended 30 feet above his head.)
From Trafalgar Square it is an quick jaunt to Westminster via Buckingham Palace. (It never hurts to wave hello to the royals and their black-hatted guards as you pass by.) By popping into the Queen’s Museum you’ll find that Queen Elizabeth II has impeccable floral hats and spends thousands of pounds supporting women’s rights and literacy across the world annually.
Westminster Abby and Big Ben should be viewed twice while in London: during the day for historical viewings and the chance to hear the resounding hourly-clanging, and at night when the towers and flying buttresses are alight with an ethereal glow of low energy lamps. (If you arrive at Westminster around eight PM you can see the Prime minister and cabinet members pouring from their conference rooms in droves.You may also be able to note how few people are actually in the “Occupy London” tents when offered a thermal image of the tents by local police.)
Heading back up to Leicester Square just before dark you might arrive in time to see Minnie Driver tumble on the red carpet (her heel stuck between two cobble stones, thinly veiled beneath the red velvet rug) for the BFI Film Festival or you might grab five-quid tickets to a premier, perhaps Anonymous at the Odeon Theater.
If cinema does not catch your fancy head over to the South Bank, toward the London Eye and pick up a ticket from the National Theater or The Globe for twelve pounds. With the National’s intimate seating project you could end up sitting by an attractive English bloke who not only sounds intelligent with his Surrey accent, but is also the Assistant Production Manager of the Cheek-by-Jowl Theater Troupe. (For future reference attractive men found alone in the theater probably work in the theatre. Therefore it is not advisable to gush about experimental theater and new-works. It may turn out that bloke-Nathanial is a well known experimental and new work author…)
Finally the issue of re-visitation has to be addressed. Many people check a city off the travel list once they have spent a day or two in the premises. “Been there. Done that. Got the coffee mug.” That is utter nonsense. No city can be fully explored, not in a few days, nor in a few weeks. (If you think otherwise perhaps you better take a better self- look before you begin traveling again.)
If you have visited London once or twice before and are starting to feel stretched for new explorations this time around, think again, think local, think childhood and think everyday. There are hundreds of venues awaiting examination, just off the tourist path. The Hayward Museum is currently hosting Pipilotto Rist with the award-winning Eyeball Massage instillation. Fresh hot-cross buns are being made up in Angel’s Bakery. The
Queen’s Walk and Camden Town are true local hang-outs, both providing the perfect mix of stall-shopping and Londoner cuisine. If you are hopelessly desperate from something to do, pretend you are Irish, tarry in the nearest English pub. The bright lighting, glistening surfaces and lightbeer will be an educational experience.
Eventually the journey comes full circle, with your wallet a few pounds
lighter you bus back to the airport, find your flight is delayed due to inclimate weather, stranding you in that all together too familiar airport (See Intrepid Trekking- London) for the night. When an attempt to claim the pre-pay massage-chair as your sleeping turf is foiled you step outside for some fresh air, and with a nod to true smoking culture share a cigarette with a Swead. You then spend the next seven hours of that interminable night pontificating on life, women and revealing your deepest secrets to that blond-haired, green eyed stranger. In the morning you are off, bleary-eyed and hungry, bound for an 8AM call after a red-eye flight. The adventure of everyday life resumes. The lust for London lives on, barely sated.
intrepid trekking 