the post-internship adventure begins

I had a little less than 24 hours in London. Stepping off the plane, I found my giant suitcase and checked it for the remainder of the week then armed with just my backpack, took the long elevator ride down to catch the Piccadilly line. I watched crowded houses and compact gardens fade into the dark tunnels of the Underground. With a stupid grin, I disembarked at Gloucester Road and stepped off onto the flurry of people. Finally, something I recognized.

Two years ago I spent six weeks studying abroad in at Richmond University’s Kensington campus so knowing that I’d be on my own for the evening, I naturally selected a hostel in that area. It didn’t take long to find my hostel – an old brownstone around the block from where I lived during my study abroad. After dropping my bags, I retraced my steps from two years previous. It was a hollow happiness to be there without my study abroad friends, unreal to be walking along Queens Gate Terrace without a gaggle of girls laughing and chattering about our next big adventure. I made an early night, exhausted from the previous days and eager to start the following day. A friend of mine from Auburn happened to be studying abroad in London during this semester so when I awoke the next morning, I met her at the Tube station. We headed to Le Pain for breakfast – oh how I missed those scones – and then wandered into the Victoria and Albert. During my summer study abroad, I may have pushed myself a bit too hard. Trying to cram all of London (and Ireland) into six weeks took a pretty big toll on my immune system and England, in her fickle way, kicked me to the curb exhausted and sick with bronchitis. My point in this is, the last time I tried to visit the V & A, I made it about ten feet in the door before my little lungs started acting up. Trying to be subtle, I tried looking at the exhibits with my mouth pressed against the crook of my arm as my lungs seized and attempted to make a bid for freedom through the nearest orifice. By the third room I could feel people’s eyes on the back of my neck surely wondering, “dear goodness, this girl must have the plague”. Naturally, I took my leave before long. Back to the present, the V & A was at the top of my “things that I didn’t get to do list” – Rachel and I wandered for hours without anyone thinking I was a plague victim. Success.

Later we wove our way over to Portabello Market and on to Holland Park, grabbed a beer at her local pub, and after a couple hours of down time, returned there later for dinner. We said goodbye after dinner and I took to the Tube once more, headed to Victoria Bus Station.

Of all my misadventures with the opposite sex (and anyone who knows me well enough will know that I have quite a cache of stories) my midnight bus trip to Scotland might hit the top five on the Most Uncomfortable list. But that’s a story for another time. Stay tuned!