1) Seeing my best friend and getting back to our typical ways of tearing up a city, having life talks, and swapping clothes - shoes - lipstick - jewelry…everything.
2) SEEING VAN GOGH’S SUNFLOWERS…it was surreal. That was the first artist I ever recall learning about in second grade. I remember recreating this piece and learning about the element of texture with this piece. If you don’t know this Sunflowers…look it up, and you will remember it. I’d say it is his most famous piece along with Starry Night and his Self-Portrait.
3) And…. ALL THE OTHER ART. I mean, the heart of London is an art itself…but seeing Monet, Van Gogh, Seurat, Klimt, Matisse, Damien Hirst, Degas, the list goes on. I was dying being in the presence of such history, passion, and aesthetic beauty.
4) The fashion. It’s everywhere. Everyone has their own style and isn’t afraid to flaunt it. It was inspiring.
Story time: My last day/night in London was pretty eventful.
First off, I met this woman while we were both confused looking at a map trying to get to our respective destinations. We were joking on how awful the dinky map was and expressed where we needed to get to. Turns out, I knew where she needed to go and she knew where I needed to go…and they were basically the same place! She was talking about how she needed to get to White Chapel and I was like, “Oh I know where that is! I can take you”, and then I told her I was trying to get to Brick Lane and she was like “No way, me too! It’s right by White Chapel. I have an exhibition at a gallery on Brick Lane!” So, I brought us to White Chapel and we walked down Brick Lane to her exhibition and chatted all about life. She studied art and is a mama of two who is still painting. She gave me lots of life advice and we rode the tube almost to the same spot. Her name was Beryl and it was pure serendipity stumbling into her. God is great! Now here is where my night gets a little funky…
I’ve left Beryl and am on my final tube home. There was this nasty man staring at me, and oh boy did I stare right back. But I don’t even want to write about him because I know he was thinking gross thoughts; his disgusting body language and stares were violating enough. Ew.
Then this super drunk guy stumbles, or more like falls, onto the tube. I rolled my eyes and laugh to myself because it’s only 7:30 on a Sunday night and this guy is drunk as a skunk. Eventually the car has cleared out after several stops and it’s just him and I. I was listening to my music so when all the sudden he gets up in my face (literally 6 inches from my face) and says, “YOU NEED TO HELP ME GET HOME”…I was slightly alarmed. Okay I wasn’t even alarmed, I was annoyed. I begrudgingly take my headphones out and ask, “What?” with an attitude (sorry bout it, but you’re way too belligerent). He’s basically falling over into me, still in my face, and repeats himself…somewhat…slurring inaudibly, begging me to take him home, offering to pay me. I sternly tell (yell-ish) him to “Back it up and get out of my bubble first.” I asked him where he needed to go, and he told me Kings Cross and rambled on drunkenly again. Gosh this dude was unreal…I don’t know how he wasn’t passed out. Anyway, I knew where that was and how to get him there (hallllaaaa- helping the drunk locals get home). I told him I would help him, he would forget 10 seconds later, beg me to help him, I would tell him to get out of my face again…etc. This cycle repeated about 3 times until I really yelled at him to sit down and calm down and that I was gonna help him. Long rambling conversation (on his end) short, I told this dude how to get home. We had to get off at the same stop and he just had to cross the platform to the next train and get off at King’s Cross (explaining this to him was like trying to teach a 5 year old college arithmetic…seriously unreal haha). So we get off at Edgware Road (my hostel stop) and I’m like “Okay catch the next train and get off at Kings Cross, bye!” And he slurs “Wait, what do you need from me?”, and I was like “What? Nothing, I’m going home”, and he says “But we’ll never see each other again!” And im like “THAT’S FINE! BYE!” Hahahha and ran up the stairs to started to head home. Bystanders were like what the…so that was too funny. Shoutout to the rents for raising me with the ability to hold my own, being able to yell at drunken men twice my size, but also still being willing to help. And to do it all in a foreign country by myself (Ellora had left for spring break at this point…heyyy). But seriously, very thankful for the rental units giving me the tools to carry myself through life.
BUT here’s the thing, my night doesn’t end. I get home (24 person mixed dorm, sup fraands) and I’m just chilling and realize all my electronics are dead and my charger won’t work (yea it broke, bye $80)…but I’m lik eh whatever, I don’t need electronics it’s fine (I was charing my phone via my computer with a USB, so dead computer charger = dead phone). Then I realize oh crap I need to get up at like 5 AM to catch my flight home…so um yea I do need my phone as an alarm otherwise I’m toast. So I start frantically asking random people at like 11 pm if I can borrow their chargers, finally get one (super cute Italian guy, hi), and he said his friend might be able to help me. Im like no bra, in workout shorts and my flannel, and he’s like yea hes downstairs we can go talk to him? And I look at myself and im like UMM. Eh f*ck it, throw on my combat boots. I frantically interrupt his skype call with his family (my bad, thought he was playing Candy Crush or something) and ask if I can use his charger because mine’s broken, I need to get up, etc my flight I cant miss it alalala and then he’s like yea yea that’s fine I’ll get it to you when im finished up here. And im like yes, perfect, problem solved. So I’m just staying up, waiting for this guys charger.
…and there’s this woman literally with her whole life sprawled across the hallyway leading to my room, so as I walk by I ask, “Is that all yours?” and shes like “yea….” And I’m like “holy cow how are you gonna make that all fit?!” So anyway we start talking and it turns out shes originally from Cork! I’m pretty sure she’s a wanderer because when I asked her the last time she was in Cork she pretty much avoided the question. And she was telling me how she hated religions but liked my medal because it was Saint Christopher who is the patron saint of travelers (Shoutout to Marge Paul for getting me that! Probably the only reason I’m still alive)…and I’m like okay damn, you’re not even that close to me and I have my cross hanging over this medal and it’s also tiny so how did you recognize that without reading the miniscule enscription around it, and also she was telling me that she thinks she should maybe get one for herself…and I’m like “yea!”…but also I don’t think that’s how it works if you hate religions…haha. And then she also told me a college education was overrated after I told her I was studying business and art at UCC. SO THAT was an interesting chat. Then it was midnight, and this guy still hadn’t given me his charger, so I harassed him again and boom we were back in business. Hit the hay and woke up, tried to checkout at 5 am, the clerk wasn’t there but I heard someone in the bathroom so I walked in and was like hello? And he was like “Umm hi…” and I was like “Hi are you cleaning or something?” (I saw a mop, ok?!) and he was like “Um..yea” and I was like “Okay, I need to checkout!” And he was like “Just tell me your room number and bed” and I did…and as I was leaving I smelled poop so I was like WHOOOPS this guy was definitely taking a dump and I just walked in on it. Anyway, made my flight on time, met a nice girl from Cork, found 20 bucks, etc. Left that place like PEACE OUT LONDON IT WAS REAL.
So there was a small excerpt of 12 hours out of the 5 days I was in London…classic. Hope you enjoyed it, CHEERS!