I have some relatives, if you recall, down in London, whom (who?) my father is always pushing me to go visit. I figured the beginning of spring break would be the perfect time since it would give me ample time to visit the fam and see London. So I emailed my ... aunt? cousin? I'll stick with cousin. (She's my dad's dad's cousin's daughter. So her dad is my dad's second cousin, making her his third cousin, making her my fourth cousin and her kids my fifth cousins. Phew.) She said she'd love to have me so I bought my tickets and counted down the days.
In between the days, I realized I actually had a handful of friends who lived in London so we all decided to meet up one day. Saphia even drew a map for our grand adventure, which was pretty awesome (both the map and the adventure).
Come Friday, the 27th of March, I set off on the 147 (the "free" bus for which I paid 50p to travel on) to Manchester Piccadilly train station. The ride was about 2 hours and as I was getting off at London Euston, I noticed a familiar face. Turns out a guy from my course was on the same train in the same coach, going home for break. We walked of the platform together and had a lovely little chat, during which I discovered he was spending his break skiing in France. Psshhh. We split when he went off to the Tube and I stood around trying to figure out where the hell I was going.
I came armed with a tube map and a four-year-old copy of the Lonely Planet's London book. I went up to the information kiosk to get some help and they kindly directed me to take the Victoria Line (light blue) down to Victoria and switch to the westbound District Line (dark green) to either Richmond or Ealing Broadway, not Wimbledon. Sounds good. I knew I had to get off at West Kensington since my cousin said that was the closest station to her house down in Hammersmith. I had consulted Google Maps to tell me just how close it was and it seemed easy enough to get to her flat. Turns out it was easier than I thought it would be. I made it quite quickly to her apartment block which was in a very very pretty area of town.
So I made it all fine and dandy and was let in to the gorgeous flat, welcomed by the smiling face of my cousin and the shy smiles of her two kids. She showed me the little guest room / office with its own little bathroom (!!!!!) that was all mine for the next few days. I set down my stuff and went into the kitchen for an early dinner. Ahh, homecooked food! Glory.
The little girl (aged 6) had a friend from school over so they were giggling and telling stories to each other as little girls do. They both warmed up to me quite quickly, which was nice. I miss my little cousins. The boy (aged 4) sat quietly, almost brooding, at the head of the table. He refused to speak to me though he found no qualms with blatantly staring at me whenever I walked into a room. When I stared back and smiled, he would turn away like my presence disappointed him. Once, I walked into his room and sat down to play with him and he clammed up. He went silent, stopped playing with his little toys, put them away and walked out. To tell his mom that I was sitting in his room. For real? Oh yeah, and did I mention they both had strong English accents? Best thing of my life.
That's fine. I'll play with the little girl. She's better tempered anyways. Within a couple hours, she was already sitting in my lap, grabbing my hand, showing me stuff in her room, playing with my bracelets, like we were best friends. She's adorable.
After the kiddies had gone to bed, my cousin and I sat around chit chatting, drinking tea and reading. Her family's moving to Qatar in the summer so her husband's already gone ahead to settle down there and I think she's been feeling the lack of company, so I wanted to be as much help as possible.
The next day, we all went to the Science Museum for a little bit, which was pretty awesome -- I love museums, particularly science-oriented ones. Then we went off to a little Japanese restaurant which was delightful because I absolutely love Japanese food. I tried fish eggs for the first time. They were toxic orange and felt like teeny tiny bubble wrap in my mouth. It was the strangest texture of my life. I'm not sure if I liked it or not. The kids were eating it by the spoonful. Then we drove to a Tesco so the mum could pick up some stuff for her guests coming over for tea that afternoon. I sat in the car with the kiddies and entertained myself by tormenting the little boy by playing with his window controls. I think I enjoyed myself a little too much. Hush, you. Then we went back home and prepared for tea time with scones and tea cakes and other yummy things. Her parents came over and some other family members from the dad's side, I believe.
After everyone had gone and I'd explored my little room some more, I picked up Atonement off the shelf and started to read it. It turned out to be better than I expected. I finished it the night before I left London so when I got back to Manchester, I decided I'd rent the movie to see if it was any good. I thought the first half of the book was really good but the second half was meh and overall, the whole movie was just meh. If you cared to know.
Late that night I got a text off one of my friends from Manchester who lives in London asking if I was up for going out that night. I responded that 10pm was a bit late to be going out but I'd be up for tomorrow night if we could work something out. He said sure, we'd confirm plans in the morning. I got super excited because I was going to have a little night out in London, woohoo!
The next morning I double-checked with cousin and she was just fine with me going out, as far as I could tell. So off we went to this little country club that she's part of, letting the kids roam in the playground outside for a few hours, while we sat inside and read. Then we went back home and just chilled. Eventually it was time for me to depart. I got all ready to go and went to say bye. I could tell my cousin was just the slightest bit on edge letting me out on my own to meet some friends in the grand city of London. I tried to make it as easy as possible for her, considering she's only ever had to deal with kids aged 6 and under. This whole teenage deal was uneasy for her, I could tell. I laughed it off and told her I'd be fine in response to all her "are you sure?"s. I asked her if she wanted me to call her at any point or anything and she said no, no, that's okay. But just as I was about to walk out, she called me back and said she'd feel better if I called her at 10.30 to let her know I was okay. Ah, the joys of learning to parent a young adult. She gave me a key to the house and let me go.
I was practically euphoric as I made my way to the station, got on the eastbound District Line to Tower Hill where I was meeting my friend. Tower Hill is the stop right below the Tower of London. You know, where Mary Queen of Scots was kept under Queen Elizabeth I's reign. And where Queen Liz herself was kept under her half-sister Mary's (Bloody Mary) reign. God, I love Tudor history. And here I was, standing at the foot of it all, a giant stone castle plopped in the middle of London. It was so incredibly COOL.
We also walked onto Tower Bridge, that grand old bridge that's famous and that Fergie has in her "London Bridge" video which isn't actually London Bridge. London Bridge is just a concrete bridge. Anyways.
We walked around waiting for his brother to come pick us up so we could go down to Edgware Road, Arab central. It turned into a bit of a chase trying to get to the car because his brother was slightly lost having never driven in London before. So that was fun. On our way to Edgware Road, we took the long way through Westminster so I could see, in the dark, the general vicinity where Buckingham Palace was supposed to be, and, in the distance, Parliament and Big Ben, and Hyde Park and an arch and other such landmarks. (Ah, how appropriate, "London Calling" by the Clash just started playing on shuffle.)
When we got to our destination, we walked up and down the long road, looking for a cheap shisha (hookah) place. Eventually we found one and I sat and ate some leaves (grape leaves, stuffed with rice and meat, silly.) while Adil and his brother shisha'd it up. We just had a lovely night sitting about and talking and laughing and making friends with homeless folk and trying to figure out the Arabic word for coal and concrifying (yes, it's a word) my absolutely failness as an Arab. Whatevs. A little past 11 (yes, I did remember to call my cousin at half 10) it was time to head off so I took the tube back to West Ken and went home.
The next morning was ADVENTURE DAY! Right before I left, I asked if my cousin needed me to call in every couple of hours but she laughed and said no. Yayyy trust. I met up with Saphia at Embankment
and we wandered down the bank to another tube station from which we shipped off to Buckingham Palace! We saw the changing of the guards, or bits of it, and a massive crowd of people. And a big procession-y thing that had horses in it. Innnnit, though?
Buckingham Palace gates, yo!
Then we went around the street, met some people who work in the Palace, got my picture taken with them because Saphia is a weirdo. She actually called out, "Excuse me! Can we have a picture with you?" then turns to me and says, "Go on, Noor. Oh, she's American, bless her." To which I facepalmed and responded, "Shutup."
We walked around EVERYWHERE. We went through the West End, London's Broadway, and to Trafalgar Square where I almost died trying to climb one of those stupid lions, and then into the National Gallery where I got yelled at for trying to take a picture (and I saw Van Gogh's 'Sunflowers!') and then to Pizza Express where they have carpet on the wall and Saphia got yelled at for not indicating that she intended to pay now by either putting out a card or some cash.
Then off we went to Piccadilly Circus, where we met up with Adil, and then to Leicester Square, where big movie premieres occur, and then to Oxford Street which is basically the shopping centre of London.
We walked up and down all these busy busy streets on our way to the greatest place of my life: Hamley's toy store. It is glory. The store is seven floors of toys. Toys that we even played with when we were kids and new toys that all the cool kids play with now. And everywhere, they had little counters where they demonstrated the toys and magic markers (which delighted us to no end) and a super cool nailpolish set. I ended up buying two little race cars for my boy cousin and some bracelets for my girl cousin, which they both loved. The boy even attempted to talk to me. Mainly, he'd go, Mummy, tell Noor this and this .. and only when Mummy suggested that he could do so himself did he turn to talk to me directly. Anyways.
Then we went to Selfridges which is a hyooooj department store, much like Macy's or Nordstrom but better. Because it's British, duh. Then Saphia had to rush to King's Cross to go home and so while she went off to catch her train, I went searching for Platform 9 and ¾, as you do. And after a bit of aimless roaming, I found it. I was practically giggling with delight.
Then I went home. On the way I bought a bouquet of flowers to give to my cousin since I didn't come with a previous gift. I met her mom when I arrived at home and we sat down and had a chat. She's the sweetest lady ever and am amazing cook. She told me stories about how she used to be such good friends with my grandparents and how she used to take my dad to tea whenever he came to visit. This gave her a wonderful idea -- why didn't she take me to tea at Fortnum & Mason, just like old times? Sounds excellent. So we planned the next day to meet and go to afternoon tea.
So Tuesday morning, I took the time to look for the Photographer's Gallery near Chinatown and Soho. In my efforts to find it -- I was going by a four-year-old tourist map, remember -- I roamed Chinatown and Soho and eventually Covent Garden. Then I found out that the gallery had in fact moved not to Romilly St, or Covent Garden, but rather Ramielles St (or the like) down by Oxford Road, which was ages away.
So I gave up looking for it and went to look for Harrod's, the famous (infamous?) grand store of London. It's massive. I went in only for a bit but I wish I'd had time to go through the toy store part. Oh well, another reason to go back and visit.
Harrods is that grand orangey-red building in the distance.
Then I went and sat in Hyde Park to read Atonement and take pretty pictures of the nature.
After that, I rushed home to get picked up and off we went to Fortnum & Mason, which is a super high class tea place that also sells things like ... well, things that fancy people use. Candles and address books and expensive things, etc. Apparently, the Royal Family all used to have their tea here. How posh. We went to the top floor where the special tea room was and sat down to have the fanciest cuppa I have ever (and probably will ever) have.
There was even one of those tiered plate shelves with the desserts on top and scones on the other and little sandwiches and smoked salmon on the last.
I felt so incredibly out of place, it was almost laughable. I had me some Jasmine tea just to try it out and it was actually really good ... for the first cup. It got crappier and crappier with each cup, which was swell, especially since, with each sip, I struggled harder and harder to pretend like it was the best thing I'd ever tasted. The whole experience was very self-conscious, particularly when a very good-looking guy came to give us our choice of desserts and he had the thickest poshest accent I have ever heard in my life and I couldn't even look him in the eye for fear I would burst out laughing or do something especially stupid. I am prone to these things. Everything was just fancy. Fancy pants. The first thing I thought when I walked in was, "Thank God I didn't wear jeans and a t-shirt today."
When we got back home, it was babysitting time! A couple days before, while my cousin was going on about how she hasn't been out in ages and it's so hard with two little kids in school and her husband far away, I perked up and suggested to babysit for her one night. She was ecstatic. She called up a good friend and planned a dinner night with her. I could tell she was really excited, I think she told my parents about it when they called to say hi. So off she went after putting the kiddies to bed and I sat around reading and eating. Woo.
The next day I dedicated to doing everything I hadn't yet done. I got a text saying a bunch of my occupation friends were meeting up before they went off to the G20 protests. Turns out their meeting point was near the Tate Modern, an art exhibit where I was headed, so I figured I'd meet up with them for a bit too. I basically just popped over to say hello and walked with them on their way to wherever they were going. Then I went on my merry little way to the Tate Modern, walked around the southbank of London, saw the rebuilt Shakespeare's Globe, the Millenium Bridge, St Paul's Cathedral from across the Thames, and then walked allllllll the way to London Bridge to see what the fuss was about. There was nothing to fuss about.
So I walked to the London Eye (that giant ferris wheel) and past all the buskers and to the London Aquarium which Aamna told me to go see or else (it wasn't too great ... probably because I've been to the Long Beach Aquarium and Seaworld. Really, nothing compares). Then I walked across to Parliament and Big Ben
and Westminster Abbey and saw Queen Elizabeth I's tomb and Queen Mary's tomb and Mary, Queen of Scots' tomb and other tombs and Charles Darwin's grave and the grave of the unknown soldier and other such random points of interest.
Then I walked allllll the way to Victoria Station and hopped on to Oxford Circus to see if I could find those darned Photographers Gallery, which I did and was very happy I did so because they had a really good exhibit up. Then I made my way down to the Tate Britain for a bit which was also really good. And then I went home, had dinner, helped put the kids to bed, said my goodbyes, and shipped off back to Manchester. Whew.
I had such an amazing time in London. I love that city so much. It's seriously one of those places that just feels like home whenever I'm there. I want to live there. I love it so so so so much. Come live with me there, please. It's beautiful. And the London Underground is the best thing in existence. I became bffs with it in my time there. It makes it so easy to get around the city, it makes everything feel so familiar and accessible. Ahh, I want to go back! And my family there is just the absolutely sweetest and coolest and most welcoming and I love them too. It was just the best feeling to be there, with them, like I lived in London. Sigh. Seriously, perfection. Can't wait to go back.
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