But I am afraid to sleep on my thoughts for fear I will forget them. So here goes.
Today I left the house at 9:30, just as Chris and Cecelia were waking up. I purposefully skipped breakfast so I could eat a scone in Melissa's honor in the St. Paul Crypt.
Unfortunately C and C remembered that it was the Lord Mayor Parade downtown around St. Paul's just after I had shut the door. So as I stood just out of their site at the bus stop, they stood in the doorway calling after me. It was too late. I heard nothing in my "I'm trying to blend" state of mind.Several Tube lines and heavy crowds later I arrived at my destination and was feeling like a pro. That feeling did not last long. Once outside of St. Paul's I knew something was up. Throngs of people lined the streets. I escaped the crowd into the crypt and had a scone with jam and clotted cream in honor of Melissa (and the clotted cream for you mom!).
I exited the crypt and reentered the crowds to get to the entrance. Only, it was all blocked off by military.
Insert a momentary sense of bother HERE.
Being a rude American, as we are so known for, I approached a police man and asked if the cathedral was open today. He assured me it was closed and would reopen tomorrow.
Interesting. Because I had three musts on my list for this trip, and one way or another, I WAS going in. My must list is not negotiable.
So I walked around the building through the throngs and saw there were no other entrances. So I returned to the crypt, hoping for a different answer.From one gift shop worker I got an "I don't know." From another I got a "go ask that person, they will know." And from the last person, I got an, " oh yes, come right over here (to my small open door in the iron wall gate) and you can visit!" Did I mention the visit for "free" bit?
With the celebration outside and the maze to get through to find an entry, the cathedral was near empty of people. After doing the customary ooing and awing for a minute or two, I realized that I could have the best seat in the house for the parade if I hurried to the top of the dome. So I skipped and doubled up the steps until my heart was about to pop.
The parade seemed to be as much about making all the noise they could alongside the entertainers. I returned down to the whispering gallery and took a seat. Sitting on that bench officially marked the #3 goal off my list. Although, I did wish that I had someone to whisper to. (miss you Dave!)
Once on floor level again I made my way to the entry door and did what any normal tourist would do if given St. Paul's to themselves. I walked the path Diana took to the center to be married. With the crowds screaming outside and the bells ringing I imagined it was similar to that day. No one needs to know, but, I may or may not have carried an imaginary bouquet.After St. Paul's I crossed the Millennium bridge to the Shakespeare's Globe Theatre. Mel, I know we did it before, but my memory needed a refresher course. What I learned: I need to read/watch more Shakespeare plays.
By the tour end I had 1 1/2 hour to get to Covent Garden to meet C & C. That meant I had time to get there, shop around, and be all ready for them.
This is where the story gets sketchy. I had to get on 3 different tube lines to get there. No problem. Until. In the middle of one the train stopped and were informed of a fire at another station, so we could go no further. Meaning, get off and walk!
So walk I did. For it took me an hour and a half to reach Covent Garden because I could not find another tube station for the life of me (even with directions from passerbyers!)
Side note. In my lost state I found the small Clink prison where lots of people were tortured and took a 10 minute walk through. New item of torture to avoid, the Spanish Boot.
When I finally made it to Covent Garden, it was straight up 5:00 and my phone rang. It was C & C calling to tell me that due to the fire their line was shut down. The same line I needed to get home. To throw in some Brit talk, bloody, that's not good!
My option was to give it some time and hope the line reopened. It seemed that everyone was trapped downtown. To say the sidewalks were shoulder to shoulder with people would be an understatement. Also, for a new file of awkward to add to my collection, I did a full body bump with a lady in a burka. Her eyes said enough.
I did a walk around the Covent Garden shops looking at a lot of stuff I don't need. But really, I was looking for dinner. My tummy chatted with me about not eating ANYTHING but a scone all day, and it was not happy.
So I walked around looking for a place that was not crowded. Soon I found a perfect uncrowded little shop with pre-packaged Turkish food. I found some . . . thing. It did not look spicy, so I was happy. I ordered from a nice man who asked if I was on holiday. From there we had friendly conversation as he said he was waiting for the owner to come. It was his last day, yadda yadda, yadda and he wanted me to be his last customer, as he said, "Liz, from America!". Anyway, don't know how it happened, but soon he was reciting his poetry to get my approval. I assured him, between quick bites, that it was splendid and he should sell it.From there I will just say that my new friend, Memet, had found love. All I wanted to do was eat. Would I like to go out and eat when he closed up? Would I like to go out tomorrow? Would I text him?
This kind of stuff does not happen to me. EVER.
I decided that I rather be hungry than still be eating when the owners set Memet free for the night. So I said thank you, dumped the rest of my food, and got up to leave. Memet handed me a piece of paper. On it was his name and phone number. He promised to share his poetry with me if I would share my heart.
Sorry I am writing this, but it is my journal, and some experiences just have to be written!
I left Memet with a, "ohh, aren't you sweet," and a wave. Then I rushed a good block away to call Dave and remind him that I missed him.
Oh how I missed him! I wanted him to be there.
He must have read my voice, because he asked where I was. I don't know what he was doing at home, but he gave me his full attention.
Once again, I so miss you Dave!
With so many tube lines completely closed or partially closed travel was a disaster. Dave was able to guide me past the closed tube stations, the ones with routes I could not use, and got me home.
Well, almost. I exited the bus at Southgate station and picked up some more shish because I was STILL HUNGRY. I got on the bus and thought it would automatically stop at the street stops. Heads up, it does not. I realized things were not right a mile or so past her stop.
Really.
By this point I had had it. I walked to another bus stop to take me back to Southgate. In the meantime I broke out the shish and ate it along side the street. All the Brit good manners went out the window. That shish was scarfed down, American style.
P.S. I caught this video while squished like a babushka in a corner. Classic.
