A Museum, An Organ Recital, The REAL London Night Bus, and an Airport Marathon

Sunday/Monday, May 23/24
Day 25/26 LONDON




Sunday we slept in a little later than planned and then went to the British Museum. The museum is huge so we couldn't see everything, not even close. However, we went through the ancient Egyptian, Greek and Roman exhibits and saw some pretty interesting things, including the Rosetta Stone and some cool mummies. After about an hour and half we'd had our fill of ancient artifacts (as cool as they were) so we left and went in search of some food. Unfortunately we chose poorly on this count. We found a French cafe (I know, in London, I'm not sure what we were thinking) where we ended up spending two hours eating. The service was so incredibly slow. I think that's just how Frenchstyle cafes are though, which is very frustrating. The food was good, but we were in a hurry to do other things so it was unfortunate that we ate there. By the time we left it was too late to make it to the British war museum, which I had been looking forward to, so instead we went to Buckingham Palace. The palace was cool to look at but I was disappointed that the guards were inside the gates so I couldn't even tell a joke to one of them. Sad day.

The British Museum

After milling around the palace square, which was blazing hot in the sun, we decided to go over to Westminster Abbey to attend an organ recital--which was the only way we would be able to get inside the abbey to see it for free. It was really cool. The recital was by an up and coming organist who is very accomplished in England (whose name I don't have on hand right now, but I have the pamphlet with my bags upstairs). Anyways, the recital was good and it was a cool experience to hear it in the abbey. I'll admit though I was so exhausted that I slept through most of the performance. Oops.

Westminster Abbey

After the recital we went out and lounged in the waning sunshine on the lawn next to the abbey. Around 7:30 we began to make our way home on the bus and stopped along the way at a corner grocery store because all the restaurants in the shopping center were closed (Sunday). We bought ourselves some cheap dinners and ate them back at the apartment where we met up with Kimber and Julian again who were back from their trip. We ate our dinners together and watched some more episodes of Arrested Development and packed up our things. I took a quick one hour nap around 1am and at 2:15am we went to wait at the bus stop to take a bus to another bus to take us to the train which would then deliver us to the airport. Unfortunately we missed our second bus by only a few minutes and so we had to wait for the next one for half an hour. This would normally have been fine but it was the middle of the night in London and we were just three young college girls, so it was a little sketchy.

While we were waiting a guy and a girl came up to wait by us. She was drunk and kept asking everyone for a lighter. It was funny too because she made a similar comment to the one that the man had said the other day after we had dinner at Wagamama's. When we told her we didn't have one she replied, "Man, no one smokes anymore! Its like you're afraid of getting cancer or something." It was funnier in person, I promise. She had a lot of personality--especially in her drunken state.

The man who was with her turned out to be really nice too. He started chatting with us about what we were doing in London and when he found out we were American he told us how he had spent several years in the U.S. in several different regions (I think he said he was in Chicago and Portland). It was nice to have him there because there were some creepy people nearby and across the square (our stop was at Trafalgar Square in front of the National Gallery) came the strong scent of marijuana--gross. Luckily the bus finally came and we took it to this obscure stop where we walked to the train station entrance only to find that it was closed there and we had to go to a back entrance. This was really sketchy because the entrance was down an alleyway and didn't look like a entry at all. We walked quickly.

Thankfully we caught the train on time and I had a brief nap to the airport. Once at the airport we spent the rest of our pounds (I bought 10p of candy as souvenirs) and then went up to security because we had already done our check in online. However, here is where the story really begins...

As I make it through the line to the counter where I am to present my boarding pass, I start searching through my backpack for my paper. I can't find it at first so I move to the side and start rummaging. As I continue tearing apart my bag my heart begins to beat faster and faster as I realize that I don't have my boarding pass. In fact, I had accidentally printed off my ticket to go to London twice, instead of printing my return pass. My stomach turns as I realize that our plane is going to board in thirty minutes and I still had to go through security. Meridith and Andrea had already gone through the check so I told them to head through security and I would meet them at the gate. I then start half running half walking back through the airport to the check in desk where I wait in line anxiously for ten minutes. While I'm waiting, every few minutes a voice would come on the intercom and announce that passengers must hurry and get in line to check in if they haven't yet for the flight to Paris (my flight). About seven minutes later the lady at the ticket desk calls to see if anyone in line is on the Paris flight and waves us up to the front. I check in quickly and then grab my boarding pass and run back up to security.

When I am waved through to security my heart stops again as I realize that the line has grown exponentially and is at least a twenty minute wait (the line filled every turn). I knew my plane boarding by now but I didn't know what to do so I got in line and waited. After about another ten minutes (I kept sneaking glances at peoples watches, and even asked someone the time once) I saw a few men cut the line immediately. When no one said anything to them I decided that it was an emergency so I ducked under the rope and went to the front of the security line and hurried to get my bag through. What a poor time to have a lap top.

Once I got through the scanner I grabbed my lap top, coat and backpack from the table and, without stopping to put my computer in the bag, or even close my backpack, I took them in my arms and started to run. In my rush to find my gate I neglected to stop and ask which gate my plane was at. I assumed it would be posted outside the security check, but silly me, that's in America where things make sense. NO. I was supposed to ask an airport agent who was at the security check before leaving. Well, instead I just ran. As I ran I looked around for a tv monitor to tell me the gate but there were none to be found. Finally I came to a fork that had twenty gates on one side and twenty on the other. Not knowing which gate I was supposed to go to I prayed that I would pick the right side and run into it and just turned left.

I guess I didn't pray hard enough.

I picked the wrong turn. I ran down the terminal for about five minutes--I must've run about a half mile at least--and even called out in my desperation to a group of people if any of them were on the Paris flight (they looked at me like I was crazy--which, I was). Finally I came to the end where there was a gate closing to Amsterdam (which I knew was leaving around the same time as mine because it had been announced with mine when I was waiting to check in). I must have looked like a maniac when I ran up to the lady at the desk with my coat and laptop in my arms and my backpack gaping open, breathing like I'd run a marathon. I breathlessly asked her which gate was to Paris and she indicated that it was, in fact, on the other side of the terminal and I would have to turn back. Commence heart attack number 1232039293.

I moaned a cry of despair and turned tail and ran again. By this point I was really tired and hot carrying all my junk. And in the madness things started falling out of my open backpack. What luck. My cardigan fell out and my purse with some coins that I had to stop and pick up--people passing me were probably scared because I screamed in frustration when I saw my things fall behind me. Ha. And even though things were falling out, I didn't bother to put them back in the bag or even close it. No, instead I just add all the fallen items to my collection already in my arms and keep on running.

Finally, I catch site of my gate, which is empty except for the gate attendant and Meridith and Andrea waiting anxiously. I run up to them (looking really awkward with my arms-full-backpack-open-redfaced-run) and they help put my things back in my bag. Then we all board the plane together, with about five minutes to spare before they close the gate (miraculously I wasn't even last!). However, in my airport plight there was one casualty. My favorite sweatpants. They must have fallen out in my mad mile-long dash to the gate (yes, I ran at least a mile through that stupid terminal). I wish it had been my cardigan. I loved those sweatpants. I wore them all the time, every day. They were the best. And my roommate Marissa knows how much I miss them too, because I make a sad comment about them about once a day. Tragic.

But, at least I made the flight! My whole body was shaking during the hour flight back due to the adrenalin pulsing through my veins. That adrenalin is pretty potent stuff. Eventually I fell asleep on the plane and took a restless nap until we arrived in Paris.

Once in Paris we had to spend 5 euro on a train ticket to get back to Vesinet (which is stupid because we only needed a ticket for one of the zones because our navigo passes cover all the zones except the last one where the airport is). But they don't take that into account in Paris so we had to pay in full for the ticket. When then took the train for about an hour and a half back to Vesinet. When I got home I dropped my things and then fell into blessed slumber for the next five hours (from 2-7) and didn't wake up until dinner.

Dinner was another experience because this time Frederique's husband, Christian, was there! He had been away on vacation this whole time so Marissa and I hadn't really met him (I had briefly the week before but Marissa hadn't even seen him yet). That made for a very interesting dynamic during dinner. It was fun watching Frederique and Christian interact--sometimes they fought to be heard over the other, although not in a mean way. It was just funny.

Our dinner was very good. It consisted of pork, potatoes (yum!), cooked mushrooms, and mushroom and cucumber salad that was actually good, and a big flan for Marissa's birthday. It was so nice of Frederique. She made a big flan cake for Marissa because her birthday had been that weekend, and we even sang to her and Frederique gave her a gift. It was a video documentary of the French landscape from an aerial view. It was really nice of her. And luckily Marissa liked flan (she's very picky and doesn't often like Frederiques food, not even the desserts) so she actually ate it. That would have been awkard if she hadn't liked it....

First impressions:
I liked Christian a lot. He was pretty open and nice and he talked a lot which made it easy to just sit back and listen. The only downside was that it was awkward trying to make it a true conversation and not just a monologue on his side. But he talked about reality and rental prices in Florida and Paris, and I just don't know much about that stuff. So that just made for a lot of, "Oui" 's on my part. Other than that though he was very nice and he corrected my French more obviously it seemed than Frederique would. However, I don't mind being corrected anymore, in fact, its really helpful, so it wasn't too intimidating. What is funny is that Frederique addresses Marissa more and Christian tended to direct his questions to me, so I had to pay more attention to what he was saying.




All in all, it was a very long day which really began the day before....and I felt it. I saw the sites of London, ran through the London airport, almost missed my flight, lost my sweatpants in the excitement, made it back to Paris alive and then slept all of Monday and met my host dad.

By the time I got back I needed a vacation from my vacation!