“Have you written anything new on your blog recently?” I was asked while diving into the depths of a London underground station whose name I can’t remember, Propercorn bags and water bottles in our hands, after an incursion into Waitrose territory. That made me realize I have, in fact, neglected this section for a while. Self-imposed publication standards are high, and this blog has involuntarily but irrefutably evolved to become travel focused more than anything else over the years.
After my most recent trip to Bali, many things have unraveled, only rather internally or in familiar settings.
But my day-long trip to London was eventful enough of an outing, hence here I am again!
It was a hard contrast landing in the UK after three whole days of sunny Mallorca —even if those 200 pages of Radiology Physics only allowed me to enjoy the weather briefly during lunch with my family or my 11k run at the beach, which I proudly completed in under an hour. It was cloudy now, but not too cold, and no heavy rain is all I (and my straightened hair) needed that afternoon. UK's public transport is livelier than Germany’s or Switzerland’s, and I was surprised, yet again, at how over 12 years spent in Germanic countries made such a thing both disorienting and amusing to my eyes and ears.
I reunited with B at the lobby of our accommodation, which smelled like an “old person’s home” (I have learned through experience than anything promising under 100£/night in London is, in fact, probably too good to be true), and after briefly getting sorted (a.k.a. starting the entropic process of getting my stuff scattered all over the place until it’s time to leave), we took the tube (Britishly pronounced “choob”) to North Greenwich, where my long-planned Magical Surprise was awaiting. Once again, as it’s often the case, I felt like a little small-town girl at the sight of our destination.
The O2 was not only outwardly aesthetically interesting, but architecturally smart, combining the central arena with the surrounding perimetric area of shops, restaurants and other venues. We enjoyed walking around and making time. My nonchalant “it’s pretty tall” comment didn’t give anything away, and I was a master at ignoring B’s “did you know you can climb on top of it" one as well. Eventhough my heart did skip a beat.
An hour later we were putting on climbing shoes, gabbing waterproof jackets, fastening our harnesses, and getting ourselves attached onto a metallic rail with a dangling giant hook. The climb wasn’t physically demanding, and we made our way to the top with little effort. But the drizzle and the wind added an element of unpredictability and challenge, and the sights at the top a sense of accomplishment and adventure. As promised, we enjoyed a 360-degree view of Greenwich, The Olympic Park and Canary Wharf, as well as a golf range and London City Airport. The sky was stubbornly dark grey, but the contrast provided by the appearing flickering city lights and the dim pink tones subtly making it through some of the skyline despite dense clouds was beautiful and mysterious.
After making our way back down, following our guide Dan’s recommendation, we took the choob again and headed somewhere dodgy but cool whose name I remember as well as the Waitrose one. We had chicken-based dinner at Nando’s, where B emptied the chain's monthly hot sauce supply. Repeatedly drenching the poor chicken in sauce made his plate look like a duck pond, but it wasn’t enough to put out the firely hunger in his eyes. This he would take care of later, fiercely devouring a bag of popcorn in record time. It was an exciting and fun afternoon filled with crowds, city lights, the loud grating, squeaky noise of the underground, wind and soft rain, B’s conversation, his company and his firm arm to hold on to.
The following morning, after exchanging gifts and undiscerningly enjoying an oatmeal-based breakfast, the 36£ robbery entry fee to London Zoo transformed our planned Valentine’s Day visit into a 7k hike around beautiful Primrose Hill, still managing to spot a kangaroo, some camels and prairie dogs from outside the fence, which was more than enough to make my day. Amongst conversation, laughter and silly riddles we made our way back, brought order to our my stuff and left for Liverpool Street. We resisted the alluring pull of McDonald’s chicken wraps only to have other chicken wraps somewhere else, while playing Monopoly cards, which I would be absolutely fantastic at, if it wasn’t for the fact that they are obviously jinxed.
One day I’m writing a blog entry on how one of my favorite things about Indonesia was B, whom I’m probably never going to see again, but whose company I enjoyed the most. Fast forward, he's making his way from the other side of the world to my doorstep. And a bit later, we’re climbing on top on the O2 arena in London. This time around, I wasn’t (too) sad to say goodbye. Distances are short, and plans ahead cast an optimistic light on everything and provide something to look forward to during the time apart. Furthermore, it’s hard not to feel, yet again, a sense of awe regarding life’s script-like twists and turns, modelling the soft transitions between duty-filled, rather dull phases and the more rewarding, exciting and fun ones that follow.
