Yesterday, Juan, Elizabeth, Stephanie, Esther, Ashley, Eliana, Michelle and I headed to our bus at 3:30am to make our 7:30am return flight to Valencia from London. This trip to London was one of my favorite trips all year long, and there isn't any one reason why. It was a mixture of good company, an awesome city, and the fact that almost nothing went wrong. I stress the word almost. However, the grand majority of the trip was absolutely fantastic.
This trip started out on Tuesday around 8:00am when we set out for the train station to make our 11:35am flight. Everything was running like clockwork. We got to the train station, our train was sitting there waiting for us. We got to the metro station and then the airport within an hour because our train made very few stops. We arrived at the airport around two hours before our flight, and that is when it started to get...interesting. As we walked in the front doors, there was a line like I have never seen before, a line maybe 100 people long to get the passports checked. You're kidding me. The most I have ever seen in that line is about 5 people, and it usually takes 3 seconds for each person. Also, we checked the board, and our flight that was supposed to leave at 11:35 now said 14:00. Well, we got in line and waited, and waited, and waited. After about 20 minutes, we hadn't budged an inch. Upon asking around, we learned that there were two flights to Paris that had been cancelled and that is why there was a ginormous line where there shouldn't be. A few seconds later, someone came and asked us if we were going to Paris, and we said no. They directed us to another line with maybe 10 people in it, and that line was moving.
While I was standing in line waiting for my passport to be checked, there was a young man directly behind me in basketball warmups who was at least 6'3". I noticed he had an American passport, so I asked him if he spoke English. It is a surprisingly awkward situation when you are in Spain and you have no idea what language people speak, so you don't know whether to ask if they speak English, or habla espanol. He told me he did, and I asked him where he was going, etc. and we broke out in conversation. His name was Teddy, and he is from Minnesota. He was in a Spanish immersion school from k-8, and now he plays basketball semi-professionally for a team in Alicante, which is in Andalucia. That explains the warm ups. Anyways, he had about a week off, so it was his time to go traveling. He was doing the Italy tour, practically the same one I just did with my dad and Ms. Mumper the week before. After we got out of line, I wished him the best, and we headed for security.
After we got out of security and through our gate, we waited, and waited, and waited. The board changed periodically, mostly moving backwards. I went to the little cafe and grabbed some food, Juan listened to music and slept, Lizzy and Stephanie watched movies, and I listened to music and tried to read my book. Eventually, we all got lined up and got ready to board, then the message came over the loudspeaker for everyone to sit down. It was a false alarm. We waited some more. Finally, at around 3:30pm we got in line, and by 4:00pm, we were in the air. Later on, we found out that there was a strike of all of the air traffic control men. That explained a thing or two.
When we landed in London, we went through customs, changed some money, and bought bus tickets from Stansted to the actual city. Ryan air is notorious for choosing the airport furthest away from the actual city. Customs were...well, customs. We were asked why we had come, why we were in Spain, and if we had ever been to a British province before. When the officer asked if we had ever been to a British province, I completely forgot about how I had been to Canada, but I asked him if Gibraltar counted. He smiled, gave a little chuckle and said no.When I changed money, I gave the lady 100 euros and got 70 pounds. I got a bit jipped, but at least I had money in my pocket because I didn't think my card would work because I forgot to tell the bank that I was going.
In the bus, our worlds were turned upside down. For twenty years of my life, I have always been on the right side of the road- like normal people. Now, we were barreling down the highway at a good 110 km/hr on the LEFT side. Something just felt wrong. It felt like we would crash any second. When we pulled up to a roundabout, we went around it THE WRONG DIRECTION! That bus ride was truly a shock to me, because it is one thing to hear about driving on the left side of the road, and another to actually see it; to go around a roundabout the wrong way, check to the right while making a left-hand turn on a red, etc.
When we got to the stop, we went to the underground, bought some passes, and went to the line we needed. Because our hotel was outside the metro system all together, once we arrived at the final station, we didn't know what to do. We were lost. Luckily, we went to a McDonald's and somehow without a password Juan miraculously tapped into a secured wifi connection and got us a route to our hotel. We had to take bus 3 out to the very end of the line, and walk about ten minutes from there. That gives you an idea of just how far out our hotel was; not even the bus went out that far.
Once we got to the hotel, we checked in, or at least tried to. The total bill came out to over 200 euros for all four of us, and Lizzy, the one who booked it, was having problems with her card. Perfect. Well, I stepped up to the desk, praying the whole time for the miracle that my card somehow work even though I'd even had trouble in Italy, which is way closer to Spain than London. The desk attendant swiped my card, and for about ten seconds, which seemed like an eternity, Lizzy and I held our breath. Finally, the attendant gave me a little nod. Whew, thank you Lord. We were checked in, and everything was taken care of. So how come my card was giving me trouble in Italy, and somehow it works perfectly in London? I don't have an explanation, but all I can say is thank you Lord.
The plan for that evening was to go to Hard Rock, the original Hard Rock. Stephanie talked the whole day about how she was craving Hard Rock. Stephanie is a vegetarian and when I asked her what she likes to get there she said that she'd never been there before. Smooth Stephanie, really smooth. I chuckled a little...well okay, a lot. We got into the room at around 10:00pm, so all bets for Hard Rock were off, and we were all exhausted on top of that. We all were beat, and I was the first one to say my goodnights, and hit the sack.
There is a one hour time change between Spain and England. We gained an hour. So I went to bed around 11:00pm Spanish time, and woke up around 7:00am English time. I tried to go back to bed, but it was worthless. I listened to music for a while, and got the day rolling. We all went to breakfast, which was the same every morning we were there; cereal, toast, and orange juice.
We set out for our first day in London after breakfast, and this is the first trip I decided to use my tablet for a map/GPS. On all of the trips I have ever gone on with Eric, he has always used his Droid for GPS, but since it is much smaller than my tablet, and since he always would walk in front of me, I always thought he was just a genius when it comes to finding the way around a new city. He always knew where we were going and we never got lost. This trip I was the genius. It was so simple! Why didn't I do this before?! All you have to do is load the map of London on google maps while you have wifi, and once you step outside of the wifi zone, the GPS in the tablet will still follow you around and track you. We only got lost once for this entire trip, and that was only because there is a Brompton Street, and an Old Brompton street. I thought we were going to Old Brompton street.
Anyways, we took to the city after a nice little walk and a nice long bus ride. Our first thing to see was Buckingham Palace and the changing of the guards. We arrived about a half hour before anything happened, but it was pretty spectacular once it did happen. It was like a parade with only Buckingham Palace guards. Not only were there guards with guns, but there were marching band guards, and another division on horseback with sweet medieval looking armor.
After Buckingham Palace, we grabbed a quick bite, and went to go see the London Eye, Westminster Abby, and Big Ben at the Parliament Building. On the way Stephanie went to go withdraw some money, and the machine ate her card, so we went inside to talk to the bank clerk to see if we could get it back. Apparently, Stephanie punched in a wrong code, so to get it back, Stephanie's bank, a no-name bank that only operates in North Carolina, would have to call this bank and tell them that it was okay to give her the card back. Great. Well, Stephanie decided that she would have to talk with her mom first, and see what to do from there. So we continued.
After we had seen Big Ben, Westminster Abby, and the London Eye, which I could have sworn was broken that day because it wasn't moving, we walked around a little bit more and took some pictures.
A little while later, after many pictures, I left the group to go meet with a friend that I haven't seen in over a year who is studying in Newbold this year. We agreed to meet in Trafalgar Square at 3:00pm, and at about 3:03, I saw Caitlin walking towards me. Wow, good timing. After hugs, hellos, and how-are-yous, we decided to just start walking in a somewhat random direction to explore London. To my surprise, Caitlin had only been to London twice before, and so many things were new to her too. I guess that made it more fun for both of us; we were both exploring the city. About twenty minutes in, it started sprinkling. I whipped out my umbrella, and about two minutes later, it stopped raining. It didn't rain for the rest of the time.
After walking all around the area near Trafalgar Square, I asked Caitlin if there was something new that she wanted to see, because she had already seen all of the big stuff, and if it was new to her, it would surely be new to me. She asked if I wanted to go to Abbey Road, and I agreed. I am not really a Beatles fan, but I still think it was a cool idea because I like random pieces of history like that. We made our way out to the Abbey Road stop on the metro, got out, and the first question I asked her was if she knew where she was going, or if she was good in directional abilities. She said no to both of them. Well, I am no Magellan myself, so I guess we were truly exploring. Sounded like a party to me. After walking around for about twenty minutes with no luck, we were just about to ask someone if they knew where Abbey Road was, and Caitlin looked up and saw the street sign for Abbey Road. Well wasn't that perfect timing? We walked up the street until it dead ended 50 yards later. No crosswalk. We turned around and walked the other way. It seemed like there should be not only a crosswalk, but a sign or a plaque or something. So far we hadn't even found a crosswalk that looks even remotely similar. I told Caitlin I would take a video of her walking across it if we ever found it, and she said that that would be fun, but so far, we didn't even have a crosswalk. Abbey Road isn't a very big road, and it isn't very populated. Eventually, we came upon a crosswalk, but off to the side of the crosswalk was a sign for Hubbard St.. Caitlin pointed out that my cousins, who are lifelong friends of Caitlin and her family, live on Hubbard St. I didn't even know what street they lived on. All I knew is that they live way out in the boonies about fifteen miles away from any civilization. Anyways, we kept walking figuring that if there weren't any more crosswalks, then that one must be it. We found another one, which looked like it had a better likelihood of being the one. Caitlin took a picture of it just in case, but when I offered to take a movie of her walking across it, she pointed out how dumb we would look if it wasn't the right one. She had a point.
There was a little park where the street ended, and since we had no real plans, and nowhere to be, we circled around it before heading back. As we were on the metro on the way back to the main part of the city, a wave of hunger struck me, and since we were planning to go get tea anyways, I figured I would just buy a sandwich as well. My hunger got so bad that eventually it became one of those times when I couldn't concentrate on what Caitlin was saying, I couldn't thinking of anything to say back, and I was yawning the whole time. Eventually, I just apologized for how I wasn't exactly conversational and told her that I was extremely hungry. She said she understood, and the hunger wave had just hit her too. We got to the shop, bought sandwiches and tea, and headed out to St. James Park. Being the idiot I am, I made a slit in the top to my tea cup before we even got onto the metro. Not surprisingly, as I was walking, a few drops spilled out of my cup onto my hand, but because they were so hot, my whole hand jerked and hot tea went all over my hand and my jacket sleeve. Perfect. When we got to the park, we ate, we drank, we talked. There is a beautiful pond in the park, and we were sitting on a bench overlooking the pond and the birds around the pond. At one point, we looked behind us and saw a boy that must have been 5 chasing around a ginormous goose that was almost as big as he was. Just one time, I wanted to see the goose turn around and scare the kid as bad as the kid was scaring it, which I believe the goose was more than capable.
After we left the park, we made our way to the Hard Rock Cafe, where we were planning on meeting everyone else for dinner. Caitlin knows Juan and Ashley from PUC, so she wanted to go see them as well. However, by the time we got to the Hard Rock, Caitlin and I decided not to stay because we were both still full from the sandwiches. I still could have eaten, but I don't think I would have been able to finish a burger, and since those burgers are 15 British pounds each, I figured it would probably be best to wait. Caitlin and I walked to the metro stop where she needed to go to get back to the school. We hugged and said goodbye.
The night was young, and I didn't feel like going back just yet. After all, everyone else was still at Hard Rock, and there is nothing to do at the hotel. I decided to take a walk. Just as I headed out of the metro stop, a small calling to use the facilities called to me. I could have waited probably another half hour, but after my episode in Rome (see previous blog post), I don't take chances anymore when it comes to the restroom. I found a coffee shop, and I knew I needed to buy something to use the restroom. I didn't feel like coffee, I already had tea earlier, so I went for the best thing there; orange juice. This isn't just any orange juice; this orange juice is made from a machine that takes whole oranges, slices them in two, juices them, and sends the juice straight to your glass. No sugar, no additives, no human labor. I used the bathroom, and just when I came out, my orange juice was ready. I found a comfy chair, drank it slowly, and reflected on my day and on the trip.
After I left the coffee shop, I walked quite a distance. I saw Big Ben, London Bridge, London Eye, and Westminster Abbey, which all look amazingly different in the dark, before getting back on the metro to go to the hotel.
The next few days flew by very quickly. We went to the Tower of London, The British Museum, St. Paul's Cathedral, Harrods, and many other small attractions, as well as some big ones that I am probably forgetting. The four of us, Juan, Lizzy, Stephanie and I went into Harrods, but only Lizzy and Stephanie stayed for more than five minutes. Juan and I decided about five minutes after entering that we didn't really want to stay, but since Harrods is so big, we got lost a few times just trying to find the exit. Instead, Juan and I went to the British Museum. Needless to say, Juan and I enjoyed the museum way more than watching our lives pass before us at Harrods. Everything was so expensive at Harrods that it really didn't make sense for us to even look.
On Sabbath morning, Juan proposed that we go to church. It sounded good to the rest of us, so why not? Juan googled Adventist churches in London, and the closest one to us wasn't that far away. Things were looking up. We all got dressed in the best that we had, which for Juan and I was dark jeans, a button down shirt, and a dressy sweater over everything. As we approached the church, we truly had no clue what to expect. I was sort of expecting a church of ten members in a basement, or maybe a small one room refurbished house with twenty people maximum. As we turned the corner, I was truly surprised to find a church sitting there that was probably about as big as Calimesa. As we entered, none of us expected what was about to happen next.
The front entrance to the church is actually about half way between the pulpit and the back wall, so at least the whole back half can see you come in, but what was even more surprising than that was that the church was completely full...and they were all black. Somehow, four Americans, three as white as coconuts found ourselves looking out over a sea of black Adventists, and most of them were staring back at us. That was truly an unexpected surprise, and I am sure we were a truly unexpected surprise to them. Now, I am not in any way racist towards blacks. In fact, usually I say African Americans, but in this case, we were the Americans...the white Americans. It was a moment I can't even really describe. A moment where all four of us at the same time were thinking, "Oh man, what have we done? what have we gotten ourselves into?"
The deacon found us a place, and we sat down. After we sat down, the people around us greeted us warmly and told us they were glad we were there. Church was long, and I had a hard time understanding the preacher, who had an accent that I couldn't exactly place; all I knew is that I had a hard time understanding it. When church was over, about twenty people came over and greeted us warmly. The welcoming coordinator came over and invited us to stay for Sabbath lunch, and of course we agreed. The welcoming coordinator then took us around and introduced us to what seems like half the church, including the pastor.
At lunch, we talked with a group of about four or five members, and we all laughed, shared stories, and ate together. The food wasn't 100% absolutely delicious, but they stuffed us, and we were grateful for it. It was truly an amazing experience. When it was time to leave, we gave many hugs, and many people our names for Facebook friend purposes. They made sure to tell us that the next time we were in town to drop by again. That is by far the warmest church I have ever been to, and I assure you that the next time it is Sabbath in London for me, I will be making my way over to the Brixton Seventh-day Adventist Church just off of the Brixton metro stop on the Victoria line.
In the afternoon, we headed over to St. Paul's Cathedral, and headed off to see Wicked the play.
I thoroughly enjoyed Wicked, possibly even more than the Phantom of the Opera that I saw off Broadway on the history tour a few years back. I don't want to spoil it for those of you who haven't seen it, but I will advise you that if you haven't seen it, if you ever get the opportunity, go see it.
After Wicked, we hurried back to our hotel to pack up and get out. This is where we discuss the "almost" from the first paragraph. Here was the dilemma, our flight left at 7:30 the next morning, and the gate closed at 7:00. Our hotel was out in the middle of nowhere, and the bus stop we needed to catch a bus to the airport at 3:00 in the morning was in the heart of London. The metro closed somewhere between 12:00 and 1:00am, and the buses shortly thereafter. If we didn't make it out of our hotel and onto the buses and metros before they closed, we would be stuck out in the boonies and our only hope would be to call a taxi, which I am sure would cost more just to get us to the bus stop than the actual plane ticket was worth.
So here was the situation; it was now 10:30 pm, and in an hour and a half, we had to get on the metro, take it to the end of the line, get on the bus and take it to the end of the line, walk to our hotel, pack up everything, check out, find something to eat for dinner, walk back to the bus stop, take the bus to the metro, and take the metro to where the others in our group had an apartment, because they were much closer than we were to the bus stop we needed. We literally ran to the metro from the theater, ran inside the metro, power walked to the bus stop, power walked to the hotel, packed everything up in about 20 minutes- the same 20 minutes our pizzas from Dominoes were being made- checked out, ran back to the bus stop, and ran to the metro, and we were on the metro. It was truly a miracle that we made it to the metro stop that we needed to get to. At 10:30pm, the task looked absolutely impossible, and I truly believe that God pulled a few strings to get us all the way there. It was either we make it, or pay an arm and a leg, in British pounds no less, for a taxi ride. We found the bus that took us to the other group's apartment, and when we got there, I looked so dead, which I was, that I didn't even have to ask; Esther cleared a space between everything she was packing on one of the beds, and within seconds, I was out.
About an hour and a half later, I was awoken and told that it was time to go. I got up, grabbed my bags, and shortly thereafter, we were off. We waited at the bus stop for our bus, and so far, up until this point, everything had worked in our favor, in no small part by God's intervention. We saw our bus coming, so we all prepared to get on, but no one actually "flagged it down". It went speeding by up the street and turned the corner. Just like that, our bus was gone. For a few seconds we all just looked at each other with shocked expressions as if we couldn't believe what just happened. The next bus would come in 20 minutes, and we would probably miss our shuttle to the airport, and have to wait another 20-30 minutes or so for another one, which would make our time in the airport practically non-existent. It was critical that we figure something out that would work for us and get us to the shuttle on time. There were other buses that came, but they all just went in the general direction of the stop we needed, and we would need to walk from there, so we decided it would just be faster to wait for our next bus. I kept an eye on the screen that said how long our next bus would be, and I noticed that the minutes were dropping very rapidly. At 3:00 in the morning, the bus drivers don't stop unless someone flags them down, so they roll straight through most stops. I estimate that instead of 20 minutes for the next bus, it actually took somewhere in the realm of 15 or 16.
When our bus came, we were all ready for it. We looked like a row of Nazis saluting the "Heil Hitler" as it rolled in. The driver saw us and stopped. For whatever reason, that bus driver was driving really fast, praise the Lord, and we got to the bus station only about 10-15 minutes late. As we arrived, the original bus that we were supposed to take was still there; it had been delayed. Half of our group had reservations for this bus, so they got on even though it was packed. Just as the rest of us were trying to figure out what to do, another bus of a different company came rolling in that was completely empty, praise the Lord.
We all made it to the airport with time to spare, and I truly believe that God was helping us every step of the way. Even when it seemed like things looked hopeless, which they did several times, somehow He came through. That's right, that's the God I serve!
Tomorrow early in the morning, we head out to Madrid; my final big trip for the year, with only a weekend in the Canaries remaining. After this, it is only 6 short weeks, and I will be returning to the states. I skyped with my family last night, and it was so good to see all of them, and seeing them made me want to be home right now. However, I know this year will finish before I even know it, so I guess for now I should just try to enjoy every last little thing until the end of May. I will say though, it feels great talking about my time left in weeks, not even in months anymore; in weeks. 7 big ones from this very moment.
No comments:
Post a Comment