day two: row row row your boat

My second day in London ended up being a rather long extension of my first day. Why? I didnt adjust to the time as easily as I thought I would and I'm basically sleeping on the hardest bed in all of Christendom. Seriously. I have a bruise on my ribcage from where the spring pokes it because the mattress won't give. I usually love sleeping (especially because I have the most amazing mattress at home), but I'm really starting to hate it here.

Sleep deprivation and grouchiness aside, I rallied to grab some food with Kate before heading over to Putney for the Oxford/Cambridge boat race. We headed down to Fulham Road, where we happened upon Hache, a gourmet burger place that really lived up to the name. They had all kinds of burgers there (including one that was topped with American chunky peanut butter) and some of the best chips (fries) I've ever had in my life. I had a simple burger topped with bacon and aged cheddar and it was magical. Well seasoned. Juicy. Cooked perfectly. It was the perfect remedy to my lack of sleep.

But, no time for a food coma, it was time to jump on a bus and head for the race! The university Race has taken place annually since 1856 (with the exception of the two world wars) and is THE thing to do in March (according to the travel books I read before my trip). Countless Londoners line the race route to enjoy about 3 mins of rowing. I honestly could have listened to "In the Hall of the Mountain King" during the race and it would have covered the same amount of time. Btw, Oxford won.

Right, on to the pub then...along with everyone else. Let the shoving commence!!

After some downtime at the Spencer Arms (because that race is soooo exhausting), we all headed out for some curry. Everything you've heard about English curry is true. They know how to do that here. I ordered the Chicken Tikka Masala (I know, not very adventurous) just to compare it against what I've had at home and it was so good, I would have licked my plate if it had been acceptable (thankfully naan prevented me from embarrassing myself). I can't completely explain what the difference is but it was pronounced. I might have ruined that dish for myself once I get back home. It was worth it.

I need some sleep...more later

day one: you're here alone?

If I had to pick a theme for my first day in England, it would be "you're here alone?" It was the first thing I heard on English soil at Immigration, (that and "who exactly do you know here?") and just about the last thing I heard on Friday night (from the cabby asking why I didn't have friends with me when going into Brixton to see Primal Scream). You'd think no one ever saw a single gal traveling on her own!! All kidding aside, with the exception of Immigration, Londoners have been helpful and friendly...unless you're at a concert or on a crowded train on the tube.

London is a little unexpected, in the sense that I feel very comfortable here. On my first trio to New York City, I was so excited, I couldn't wait to go exploring. I wanted to pack in as much as I possibly could in the short amount of time I had there. I feel all that here, but it's more peaceful. Relaxed. It feels like home. I did some shopping on Kensington High Street made the "no shit, Sherlock" observation that all the homes really did look like they belonged in England, didn't mind the gap and tripped into the train my first trip on the tube, rode my first double-decker bus, crossed the Thames to meet some of Kate's friends, who I managed to fool into thinking I had been here before, was almost run over by a car because I'm not used to looking right and topped off the night by flying solo to The Brixton Academy to see Primal Scream perform their seminal album, Screamadelica. Many people were concerned about me venturing alone into that district (think Oakland with English accents), but I had a great time at the show and was really happy my first night in London ended on such a high note. 

Day Two includes watching the Oxford/Cambridge boat race and looking for The Winklevii. 

Cheers! 

t-minus 12 hours

So, I survived packing. I'm actually getting better at it. I've overpacked on the shirts, but worse things could happen. Passport and Ambien are in my purse. Boarding pass is at work. I've moved the car to avoid a parking ticket for street parking. It's pissing rain outside, so am cabbing it to work, instead of taking a bus in (with two pieces of luggage, not a fun thing). Now I just have to survive the day.

It still hasn't hit me that I'm going to be in England within a day. My guess is that everyone I know in my phone will get texts from me about 45 minutes before boarding when the adrenaline kicks in and reality sets in. You've been warned!

Off to zip up my bags, lug them down two flights of stairs, and get this day started.

packing is FUN!!

As you can see, I'm doing a bang-up job on the packing. Did I mention that I leave for SFO straight from work tomorrow? As in this time tomorrow, I will be somewhere over Illinois (providing the rain doesn't delay my flight)? I'm always late with packing, but it all comes together somehow. I just keep telling myself it will all be over soon. Now, where's that list of things I need to take with me?

two days and counting

Back in January, when I was making a list of things I wanted to accomplish this year, visiting London was THE thing that had to be completed. I've been wanting to go for ages. I can trace it back to being a seven year old, watching Lady Diana Spencer marry Prince Charles, and most of my favorite bands and authors hail from England. I'm an unabashed Anglophile, but, for one reason or another, I never booked a trip. That yearning ends this year. So, being the overachiever/why not do this/I'm tired of waiting person that I am, I threw out the idea of going to England on holiday to a friend of mine over brunch a couple of months ago. Planning commenced, as did an hourly obsession to farecast to track flight info. 

Why London? It's the one place on the planet that I know I would feel right at home in, even though I've never set foot in the country before. You could parachute me into the middle of London, leave me to my own devices, and it wouldn't phase me. I'd blend in. I'd thrive. I'd develop an accent. It's where I should be. It's as simple as that.

So, two days from now, I board a plane bound for London. What's planned? Primal Scream. The Oxford/Cambridge Boat Race. Museums. Shopping. Food. The Tube. Black Cabs. A whole lot more. You can follow my adventures here.

Cheers!