London, Day One

My European saga does not actually start in Europe. No, it begins in the United States, in Boston, Massachusetts, specifically at Logan Airport. One crucial detail of my European saga would be Neil. He was my companion for the entirety of my trip in Europe. In fact, the whole trip was mostly his idea. I had always wanted to go abroad; so much so that it was one of my most common lamentations. “Oh Europe, how I wish to visit thee.” And so, once upon a time a similar statement was uttered in Neil’s presence, something to the effect of – England, I’ve always wanted to go there. And he said why don’t you? And I said, because I don’t have enough money. He said it wasn’t that expensive, if done properly. To which I responded, well, I can’t go alone. To which he said, I’ll come with you.

And now we’re all up to speed. Travelling with Neil was absolutely vital to the enjoyment of this trip. Without him, I assure you I would have been lost (literally and figuratively) and potentially murdered, robbed, or worse. His ability to navigate foreign locations is astounding.

courtesy of Neil
courtesy of Neil Johnson

Our flight was a red-eye, taking off at six in the evening. I was concerned that I wouldn’t be able to sleep on the flight, despite my drugged, Dramamine state. As it turns out, not a problem.

We flew Aer Lingus, which meant a layover in Dublin. I was very impressed with the flight and service. Everyone was very attentive (when I was conscious) and we got a full meal that was not only edible, but dare I say delicious? It included a brownie and cheese, and if that wasn’t enough, a cracker to really win me over.

We landed in London at 8 am. I did get a little sleep on the flight, but plane sleep isn’t exactly restful. Neil barely slept at all. But we were in London and I was determined to enjoy it.


My first experience in the city was navigating the Underground, which is something of a feat when sober nevermind drunk on lack of sleep. I love the Tube. It’s so efficient and effective. There are just so many different route options. It seems impossible to truly get lost when you have access to the Underground. Plus the seats are soft and plush. And the adverts are usually amusing.

We had some trouble at first figuring out what pass to get , but an attendant at Heathrow was very helpful and instructed us to wait until after the peak period passed (at 9:30 am) and get a daily pass for about £8. Or something reasonable like that. We spent our time waiting at a Caffe Nero, where I had my first cup of tea on English soil (which was actually served in an Italian coffee chain).

courtesy of Neil
Big Ben, courtesy of Neil Johnson

We got off at Westminister to meet  Neil’s friend Imogen, and the first sight to greet me was  Big Ben, looming ahead of me in all its pointy, clock-like glory. What could be more quintessentially London? To invoke a cliche, it took my breath away. And fair enough. It was extremely surreal, especially on so little sleep.

From there we proceeded to wander about the city, which increasingly did not match up to my expectations. London is a city, much like how New York is a city. It is catering to an international audience. That is, it’s not exactly very British or English at all. Instead of traditional, English restaurants, there were a lot of French places or Italian ones. I searched high and low for an English tea shop in London, but I was clearly not looking in the right places.

Everything from Big Ben on was a blur of British tourist locations. I was groggy from the Dramamine and lack of sleep, but Imogen valiantly led us to several locations including Buckingham Palace (which is pronounced Bucking-em, not HAM), the Strand, Drury lane, Leicester Square, and Trafalgar Square (lions) where we had lunch at the popular chain Pret a Manger. Apparently there is a Pret in Boston now which I am going to have to check out, because for a chain their food is remarkably delicious. The whole morning was so lovely, I just wish I could have appreciated more at the time. I was so tired and so hungry that I couldn’t really focus on what was around me. I simultaneously felt sensory overload and an inability to absorb details.

Trafalgar Square, courtesy of Neil
Trafalgar Square, courtesy of Neil Johnson

We walked around for quite a while before going to check into our hostel at St. Christopher’s Inn, Shepherd’s Bush. I wasn’t exactly certain what to expect from a hostel having never stayed in one, but the vibe was pretty much college dorm life meets camp, but with more alcohol. Also, no one really speaks to each other. Neil and I had a bunk (he chivalrously slept on top). We shared the room with one Irishman, who never spoke when Neil was in the room, but immediately asked me where I was from the second Neil stepped out to use the bathroom. I never did catch the guy’s name. We took a nap and then had dinner at the hostel which is also attached to a bar called Belushi’s, all the St. Christopher’s are. Then we went to bed very, very early in order to be well rested for Day Two.

Stay tuned for more zany European adventures!



Hello America

I’ve recently returned to the United States from Europe. And by recently I mean five days ago, in which time I have languished in a European  contracted head cold and turned 22.

I miss Europe. Since before I was even able to identify the phrase anglophile I have been obsessed with all things British, or perhaps more specifically English. My life has been a constant dream of drinking tea with the people who do it best and being among the cities where my favorite literary minds flourished. (Surprisingly enough, it is very difficult to find a traditional English tea shop in England, at least not in London anyway.) The European lifestyle is opposite that of the states. It holds a different rhythm. I feel vaguely treasonous for saying it, but I may prefer that European rhythm. Though, upon reflection that longing for Europe makes sense. We always prefer what we do not have.

But now I’m back in the States (that’s another thing. Being abroad makes me want to refer to the US purely as the States. Why? I do not know) real life needs to start up again. But as a way of documenting my trip for myself and ordering my thoughts, I’m going to blog retroactive posts detailing my European adventures across the United Kingdom and Paris. Get excited.

In other news, now that I’m back I need to buckle down and get serious about my writing and my quote unquote artistic ventures. That phrase makes me feel something of a joke. I have a glass menagerie of story ideas floating in my head that I can never manage to actually get on paper (or electronic screen really, but saying paper sounds so much more romantic – it’s the same way I feel about e-readers). Then there’s that whole video making business I do, which I’m committed to but feel like I never have the time to execute adequately enough. Hopefully this head cold will pass and I can rediscover the momentum I had in college (which was momentum I possessed only a short month ago). Here’s to the post-grad lifestyle. Here’s to Europe.


Review: Blankets

by Craig Thompson
by Craig Thompson

As I continue on my productive reading kick, I just finished Blankets by Craig Thompson, which is not only a lovely story but also a graphic novel. Graphic stories and comics have a very special place in my heart. It’s a means of storytelling that is innovative yet at the same time hearkens back to our primitive past. You know, the whole scrawling images on cave walls thing. But graphic novels (and Thompson’s work) are a whole hell of a lot more exquisite than all that.

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Review: A Lost Lady


I’ve just finished A Lost Lady by Willa Cather. The book was suggested to me by my boyfriend who knows how much I love classic literature. I was very skeptical about reading this particular novel though because it’s American lit. The only American literature I have a tendency to be fond of is the contemporary sort and men who became expats in the 20s. It’s nothing personal, it’s just how my taste falls.

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Round-Up: Life is Content

One thing I like about being home is the microwave. There are a lot of things you can do with a microwave, whole meals you could make, but I like having access to one because I can heat up my tea when it inevitably goes cold because I’ve left it sitting somewhere (the worst). Unintentionally cold tea should be a crime.

In other news, I RECEIVED MY PASSPORT! I am actually going to London. LONDON LONDON LONDON! It makes me feel a little hyperactive, but in the absolutely best way possible. I am less skeptical now that I have my actual passport. I still won’t believe it until I’m standing in the city. And I have tea. London-ness and tea. That will cure my skepticism. I am ridiculously excited.

Also, I have started two books A Lost Lady by Willa Cather and Blankets by Craig Thompson. They are very different. I’m going to finish the Cather novel first methinks.

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