Way Out

Today, August 30, 2010, marks a monumental event in my life: I navigated a large city by myself without getting lost. You know me, you know my abysmal lack of directional skills, you know I frequently get turned around in the small town I have lived in for 15 years. This is a new beginning, a threshold to a new life where people ask me for directions and I can actually give a coherent answer. Probably not, actually; I'm sure I'll get lost as soon as tomorrow, but I'm still kind of proud of myself.


I started at Kamen House, the flat where I'm staying, and walked to St. Paul's Cathedral, a huge and beautiful old church with a 12 pound admission fee that I declined, as I was on a mission to find the Thames. Find it I did, and as an added bonus, there was a quartet made up of a violin, viola, cello, and piano playing Libertango from memory in the sun next to the Millenium Bridge. I sat for awhile, just listening and being content with the world. 


Next on my self-directed walking tour was the South Bank, an area that houses all sorts of theaters and museums, which I will definitely be frequenting in the coming weeks. "Hamlet" for 10 pounds at the National Theatre? Yes please. London Philharmonic? Absolutely. The path by the river was lovely, but rather crowded as today is a bank holiday, Britain's equivalent of Labor Day. There were lots of families with scooter-wielding young children enjoying their day off. And yes, British accents automatically make children cute.


Finally, I ventured toward Piccadilly Circus, a photogenic and chaotic commercial center with streets branching out in all directions. I met my friend Jack, a British native who went to my high school and goes to college in England, and we walked to a cafe down the street (actually a "patisserie" if you want to get snobby around it, but same difference!). I had a chocolate eclair, which was good, and some coffee, which was not, as it was actually a tiny shot of cringe-inducing espresso. But overall, a successful reunion. Like the music at the bridge, a small piece of familiarity is welcome in an unfamiliar place. 


School starts tomorrow. Our classes meet either twice a week for 75 minutes or once for about 3 hours, so tomorrow I am going to be learning a LOT about Christianity and Islam. I'm excited to establish a routine and find interesting places on the long walk between the flats and the classrooms. I've already noticed an astrology shop, a cupcake bakery, and the Charles Dickens museum, among other things. It's slowly starting to hit me that I am living here and not just on vacation. Maybe classes will solidify that feeling.  

A parting fun fact: British exits don't say "exit," they say "way out." Which makes me think of "psychedelic." Which is what I will call exits in the small island nation that I will one day rule.