1. “This isn’t a restaurant!” Not exactly what I expected to hear during a sung eucharist at Westminster Abbey, but this sound assaulted my ears nonetheless. My cheeks burned hot with shame and second-hand embarrassment and I lowered my eyes to the ground to avoid any possible association with the woman in the row in front of me who was loudly refusing to relinquish her seat to its original owner, citing some sort of “no savesies” policy. As the worker making the request on behalf of another attendee gave up and walked away, she muttered the exact words we were all thinking “That woman was quite rude to me!”
2. Pyramids of towels. There were pyramids of rolled white towels in the bathroom of what just had to be the fanciest pub in all of London. My wide eyes and dumbfounded expression stared back at me through five large, crystal-clear mirrors. This was not the cozy, hole-in-the-wall atmosphere I had expected prior to walking in the door of the Blue Boar pub, although its proximity to Buckingham Palace and the Palace of Westminster should have clued me in. In fact, after exiting the bathroom, I nearly got lost in the maze of marbled luxury. Luckily, a giant statue of a corgi dressed in a Union Jack onesie appeared in the mist, a landmark guiding me back to the safety of my table.
3. As we traversed through the lush greenery of Hyde Park, I felt an unexplainable urge to frolic through the wide expanse of grass, fill my fists with wildflowers, and collapse onto the ground to watch the lazy clouds float by. This urge only intensified as we neared Kensington Palace, especially as I caught sight of the various birds scattered around the thoroughly originally named Round Pond. The pigeons were especially noteworthy. The far birds plodded about aimlessly, not even bothering to sprint away as we walked directly into their flocks. I felt a desperate, primal compulsion to reach out and grab one. In case you’re worried, no I did not. However, there is no doubt in my mind that, had I truly wanted to, I could have: one-hundred percent.
4. Just the thought of walking down the 123-step spiral staircase to reach the tube platform at Queensway station lured out the ache in our already tired legs, so we reluctantly packed like sardines with a horde of other passengers into the one operational lift. After only nearly surviving the stale, sweaty air of thirty tourists standing much too close together, we encountered another near-death experience while boarding the Eastbound Central Line tube. We had barely stepped into the carriage when we were met with a fortified wall of tall, human backs. With nowhere to go and no strength or time left to push forward, we grabbed onto the nearest pole and prayed the closing doors didn’t latch onto our clothes and suck us to our deaths. Luckily, not to fear! We narrowly avoided our demises and made it home rather safely, eager to face another harrowing day in jolly old London.
Blog post provided by Lindsey Graber, a sophomore English major and double minor in CJRJ and PJCS from Goshen, Indiana.