I write this from Glasgow, sitting in my friend's flat, warm and content. I don't think she realizes how grateful I am for the opportunity to not worry about where I'm sleeping/what I'm eating/if my stuff is going to be stolen from my bag. We've been taking it really chill the past few days, which I'm also very grateful for. Not that I feel like my adventurous spirit is gone, but it's quite weary.
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London was magnificent. It felt like a perfect city to drop off in after traipsing around the world - I saw restaurants selling dim sum and women in hijabs and I had some level of understanding rather than confusion. London is such a blending of the old and the new.
But a lot of the old. Oh my gosh, the plaques everywhere. Everything is important. I was walking to our hostel and realized we were about a block away from where James Barrie, the man who created Peter Pan, lived.
My days in London were a bit of hasty whirlwind, but I can recall some of my favourite moments.
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One day, we saw a matinee of Titus Andronicus at The Globe. It was surreal, standing feet from the stage, the light filtering into the theatre. It felt like almost a religious experience for me, a theatre student, standing in The Globe.
The production itself was quite interesting as well, done as bloodily and harsh as Titus should be done. We were standing feet from the stage (for three hours- groundling tickets are fantastic because they were five pounds but just means you are standing the whole time), and with this production things happened on the ground with you. Actors would shove you out of their way trying to make a speech or get to the stage. Loads of fun.
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Saw all the places you're supposed to see.
This place. Not that we really understood what was going on but there was marching and some horses and the whole thing felt very British.
I'd always thought the London Parliament looked sort of like the Canadian one, and I guess it does, in a way, but the detail work outshines anything I've seen in Ottawa - although now I suppose I'll look more closely next time I'm there.
And another important personal pilgrimage place. Baker Street!
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Also spent only an hour (!) in the National Gallery, something that pained me. I, being someone who could spend hours in an art gallery, was with non-museum people and we had quite a list of things to do that day, so I respected our timeline. But still! Bit of a tragedy, really.
Ah well, next time, I suppose.
I did get to spend a couple hours by myself in the Tower of London, which is how I love museums. Myself and the stories of the past.
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What else? Um, we rode the Tube a lot, which I rather enjoyed. It was just so efficient and colourful.
Something else we noticed was that everything was very expensive, which I suppose just comes with the city. However, after paying for my meager fish and chips lunch with money that would have sustained me for three days in Morocco, I winced. I'm going to glad to be home when I don't have to do mental math gymnastics every time I buy something.
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I did enjoy London, but I was glad to leave. It stressed me out. But I look forward to returning, when I can have time and the money to appreciate the city.
The nine hour bus ride up north to Glasgow I kept trying to guess when we passed the border into Scotland. I didn't see a sign, but suddenly I looked up from my book and there were green rolling hills and sheep and I was pretty sure I was there.
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