I had two options. Option number 1 was to stay in a freezing house for Christmas, my 25th birthday, and New Year’s ALONE because all of my roommates were home for the holidays. Option number 2 was to take off for a couple of weeks to London to visit a couple of my best friends and kill the visa-requirement-to-leave-Italy-every-90-days Bird with the same stone. Can you guess which option I chose?
If you guessed my happy self got on that plane and flew to London, you’d be correct.
I HAD SOOOOOOOOOO MUCH FUN!!!!!!!!
I arrived late on Saturday, December 22st in London at my friend Steven’s house. He lives with one British girl, a Kiwi (who is seriously one of my soul-mates), and two Australian guys—who were all REALLY lovely to me. I was terribly sad to leave them.
I met Steve last summer in Budapest, and we became fast friends. He’s originally from Chicago, now living in London (taking advantage of his British passport courtesy of mom). He had been traveling for about a year…and after Budapest, we met up in Vienna one day and ran around the city having a jolly good time (see Flickr for photos). Physically, he’s All-American…but his spirit is free and far more interesting. He’s bold, independent, chill, smart, mischievous, and the epitome of a cool dog. I really love him.
I arrived dead-tired but damn excited to see him again after a 6-month hiatus. A couple of hours later his gf, Milica from Serbia, showed up. She was sooooo not what I was expecting. She was WAY FRIGGIN BETTER/MORE INTERESTING/UNIQUE/SPECIAL. I was thinking she would be petite, cute, and probably bubbly…but I was not prepared for the POWER that walked through the door. Within 10 minutes I was crazy about her. The first thing you notice (other than her beautiful sharp-angled Slavic face) is her fantastic, baritone deep, raspy voice. It’s like it comes from somebody else. I was enamored. I’m actually at a loss to describe Mili, because her strength, integrity, wicked humor, ancient soul, intelligence, courtesy, and love just blew my mind. Good Steven!!! I also want to point out that the second week her little sister came to visit…and this little girl (19) is on her way to being just as astonishing as Mili. I’ve never met anyone like them, and I can’t anticipate to.
So, I hung out with them for a couple of days…and then on Christmas Eve I went to meet up with my darling friend James, from New Zealand. I met James in Bucharest, Romania. We stayed at the same hostel together, but got to know each other well on a long overnight train ride from Bucharest to Budapest. Even though he’s almost a year younger than me, I feel like he is my older, wiser brother. I always ask him for men-advice. I find him to be incredible wise, level-headed, and open-minded. He has a beautiful impish face and sparkly blue eyes, and an easy smile.
We went to St James’ Cathedral to listen to the Christmas Eve service. The service began at four and we got there at 3:15There was a line around the block (which is like 10 normal-sized ones)…so I thought I could take off and find some coffee. I left James with the bags, and went off to find coffee. Turns out that finding an open coffee shop on Christmas Eve is not so easy. So I retuned half-hour later to discover that the line had disappeared. Damn! Tried to use cell phone to find him. Cell phone wasn’t working. Went to front of Cathedral where Jame’s best friends were with him, waiting for me…letting other people in the line pass by them. Ugh. Bad way to make a first impression. I join them in line, we are almost to the entrance, and the guards stop the line. OMG OMG OMG…if we aren’t allowed in to watch the service because I was late, everybody is going to hate me!!! Ten minutes go by, and people are sneaking dirty glances at me. I’m wondering if I can somehow charm my way out of their hatred. Stupid Americana. And then the guards count people in line, and bring the last group of us in. We are taken inside, lead past all the other people in the main seating area…taken past the stage (oh, hell, we’re going to be sitting in the dressing rooms…oh, hell, I just thought “hell” in a church)…and then led around the back and ONTO the “stage” to sit right next to the choir. Wait, what? Me making us late means we GET THE BEST SEATS IN THE ENTIRE HOUSE? Ha ha! You people in the front row who got here at 12pm to wait in line for 4 hours. We get the special seats. Neener neener neener!!!! So, indeed, we sat across from the Arch-Bishop, in the seats reserved during Mass for the clergy, and right next to where the choir sang. HAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAAAAA!
It was beautiful, and nobody hated me after that. James joked that leave it to a woman being late that we would end up in the best place in the entire HUGE cathedral.
So, after the service we took off to Hannah and Leah’s house for the EPIC CO-ED SLUMBERPARTY, where we played games, drank merrily (me not so much), and just relaxed. On Christmas, we made food, lit a kitchen towel on fire, did a naughty secret Santa, watched the Queen give her first high-definition TV address to her loyal subjects, ate pounds of chocolate, then ate pounds of Christmas food, drank some more, played some more games, called friends/family to wish them Merry Christmas, and did night two of Epic Co-Ed Slumber party.
On Boxing Day, I kissed everyone goodbye, and headed back to Steve’s house. Spent the day totally useless.
On the 27th of December, it was my 25th BIRTHDAY! Hooray. My father called to tease me that I was now ½ way to fifty. Not funny, Dad. Thanks. What did Laurel Ann do? If you guessed took myself to Chelsea to go shopping, you’d be correct. After all, it was my birthday…and the Post-Christmas sales galore. I bought three things. I bought a beeeeaaauuuttiful pair of knee-high, simple, black-leather boots with a low heel. I wear these shoes basically everyday. I LOVE them. Then I went to the store that had the black long-sleeved-turtle-neck dress in the window. Turned out this store was an organic cotton fair-trade only store. So, I got the dress, which I probably wear once per week. And then I saw, in the corner of my eye the most beautiful smokey-french-blue sweater. Oh, divine. I live in this sweater.
I still hadn’t eaten any fish-and-chips, so I organized a little get-together for my London friends, and we went to a pub and ate the fish-and-chips. I was a happy, happy girl. Went out for a couple of drinks at a bar, where I was feeling rather saucy. Then called it a night…
Three hours later I had a fierce stomach-ache and spent all night fighting off food-poisoning. Stupid fish-and-chips. Never eating British food again.
Did the tourist thing for the next couple of days, nothing too exciting…except I went to James’s house to house-sit for the next week.
But New Year’s….omg New Year’s!!! Met up with people in Picadilly. There was a couch-surfing meeting of like 30-people at a nearby pub. I hung out with Steve, the Savy Serbian girls, Marta from Poland, Marianna from Slovakia, and Ara from Australia. See photo.
At about eleven we headed off to join the other 2 million people who had converged in the center of London to celebrate. I wasn’t totally sure where we were going until we rounded the corner and there was Westminster lit up like a Thomas Moore painting. We passed that and stood in front of Big Ben. Fifteen minutes later 2 million voices echoed out in synch 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1 HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!!!!! And the fireworks exploded over the Thames, The London Eye, and Big Ben. The champagne flowed and I just remember kissing people and thinking how incredible it was to be 25, and in London for New Years, watching the fireworks and just feeling like the year to come is going to be the best of my life. It was a moment that I hope I never forget.
For the next few days, I went back and forth between Steve’s house and James’s house, meeting up with other friends, and doing the tourist thing alone. I saw everything I wanted to see, cooked to my heart’s content for my friends, and left feeling like I had solidified some friendships that will last for the rest of my life. I have every intention to go back and visit before I leave for my next adventure. It was, quite possibly, the best little vacation I have ever taken. I was very sad to leave….
But, if you are going to leave from a vacation in London, it really isn’t so bad to get back on a plane and fly home to Italy. I mean, really.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment