I woke, not to the sound of seagulls, but to the annoyance of an alarm that was set for 5:45 am. My body was starting to feel the wear from the flight. I turned, pulling the covers over my head and let the clock stop its temper-tantrum on its own. When I truly woke, it was already 8:16 and I spent the next hour reviewing my days plan with the map of London (Thanks, Rick Steves!). I had woken up knowing full well where I was. Articles I read before the trip told me that it took about four days before the body adjusted to vacation mode. I could feel it to be true. I grabbed everything I would need that day. I'll be taking a lot of pictures, so I'd better get a new memory card, I checked my camera. Packing everything in my writers bag, I left the room. I ask for a quick exercise, dear reader. Imagine a task that you set out to accomplish, one that took you a long time to finish maybe. Then think of an easier way you would have been able to do that task. Then imagine that if you had paid attention all along to how it was supposed to be done in the first place (let us say there were very easy to understand instructions along with it) you would have gotten it done even earlier! That is what awaited me after I shut my door, dear reader. Facing the door, I glanced to my right, where I had gotten lost the day before. To my left was, in my mind, unexplored territory. I decided to take my chances and went left. It was a short walk as I turned the corner and found a narrow staircase leading up. I started to climb, finding that only my toes could fit. I reached the top of the stairs and found familiar double glass doors to my left. It was the front lobby! If anyone else knew, I would just crawl back into bed and spend the rest of the trip hiding in my shame. There was no time to wallow in my embarrassment though. I had an important place to get to: The Changing of the Guards! I hopped onto the Tube and headed to Parliament and Whitehall, near Trafalgar. I hurried to the post and saw!...a small crowd. What the heck? I checked the map and my guide again. As some might have known, this was not where the changing of the guards happened to be. It took place at Buckingham Palace, many blocks down and as I checked my wrist watch, I knew I wouldn't be able to make it in time. As if my blunder was obvious, I walked around the area a bit, pretending that I had meant to be there all along. During my enjoyment of the scenery, I came across a sign that pointed the way to the Churchill Bunker Museum. From history class, I recalled that the Bunkers had been used during World War II. What I did not know is that many of the rooms had been kept the same as when the war ended. They called the all clear and everyone just got up and left. Like at the end of the work shift when you don't care for the place you work at, I mused in my mind. I received a recorded guide and went down to the underground museum. As I listened to the tapes, I realized how much crunch time teachers have to get things across. One thing I didn't realize was that Joseph V. Stalin, Winston Churchill, and Franklin D. Roosevelt (nicknamed "The Big Three") joined forced to bring Hitler down. This helped bring the war to an end, but as many know, history doesn't end there. One reference was a perspective of a young East German girl during and after the war (Tilli's Story: My Thoughts are Free by Tilli Schulze and Lorna Collier). I was able to see a map of how Germany was split after the war and a ways down, Churchill's pajamas. Close by was a typewriter that guests could use. I haven't used one of these in ages, I thought as I typed a few sentences. I was glad that I still knew how to use it. Some youngin's watched as I effortlessly typed and slid the paper back, keeping the same margins for each line. After I was finished, I withdrew the paper, placed another in and let the kids have a turn. As I stood a short distance, I overheard one of them say, "This is boring. It doesn't even go to the next line." "Yeah," the other agreed. "Who wants to use this stupid thing?" I do, you little urchins, I cursed in my head. I, a bonafide writer who has an appreciation for the art of words and the tools used for their existence. I felt better afterward and continued through, learning how weak the bunker was. One perfectly targeted bomb could have collapsed it at any time. However, moral was kept up because if Churchill was staying there, why wouldn't it be safe? Towards the end, there was a medium-sized room with a device on one of the support pillars. It was a fag (cigarette)/cigar lighter. As it was explained, someone would press and hold the button on the black holder. Doing so sent an electrical current to the coil on the silver side. It would heat it up and the person would light up. The downside was the fact that ventilation was poor, but if everyone was smoking, who would really care? I left the War Rooms into the painful daylight. Letting my eyes adjust, I looked for what was around the area. There was parliament, Trafalgar Square, The National Gallery, and Westminster Abbey. The Abbey sounds nice, I followed my map. As I turned a corner, the Abbey loomed in its glory. The giant stained glass windows mesmerized me as I walked toward it. I paused at the side of the walkway to admire the architecture. I imagined how much time and power it took to build something so grand. Continuing forward, I reached the entrance and melded with the crowd. Again, I received a prerecorded tape and was lead through the magnificent building by the voice of Jeremy Irons (voice of Scar from Disney's The Lion King). Pictures were not allowed in the Abbey and some were escorted out if they were caught. As I walked through the odd pathways, I noticed what I should have realized when I first read the name. There were graves all around and the paths were determined by how far tombs in the walls jutted outward. I can't even avoid stepping on people. I silently apologized every time I stepped on a new grave, even though hundreds, if not thousands of people stepped on the same graves every day. Continuing the tour, I discovered that William Shakespeare (1564-1616) had a memorial statue that informed visitors he was buried at Stratford on Avon. Remembering back to the Bath Spa tour, Avon meant river. I also found a stone that read: Charles Dickens 7th Feb. 1812-9th June 1870. After such a discovery, I paid closer attention to the markers, reading names I had previously done in history classes. I was among those whose stories served as great wonder or lessons to heed. Writers, scientists, royalty, so many that fascinated me. While I wished to stay and soak in everything I could, my stomach alerted me to my starvation. It was 5:34pm by the time I remembered I hadn't had any breakfast or lunch. I had survived on water all day and my body was getting weaker. I left the Abbey and rode the Tube back to Gloucester, walking across the street to The Stanhope Arms pub. I could hear the roar of laughter and the loud conversations as I neared the door. Having been at a pub before (not considering myself an expert by any means), I ordered at the counter and searched for a place to sit. The entire place was crowded to the max it seemed. I could barely get through without someone bumping me. In the hustle, I found the only table with a free chair. A man was already sitting and drinking a beer. "Excuse me, would it be all right if I sit here?" He leaned towards me, obviously not able to hear me over the crowd. I repeated msyelf. "Of course!" he gestured across from him. I sat, keeping my eyes on the table. This was my first real interaction with someone else. Yes, I had talked to Zoe and the others at the Royal, but I hadn't really had time to sit and eat with them. I knew how different of an experience this was. It's better to eat and leave, I told myself. Don't disturb anyone. After a while of silence on my end, the man sitting across from me asked held out his hand. "I'm David, by the way," he said. "Sorry, I should have introduced myself before." I shook his hand, introducing myself as well. "Your accent, American?" I nodded. "Well, what are you here for, work or holiday?" "What is holiday?" I asked. "You'd call it vacation," David laughed before taking another drink. I started to think that this was a good time to further my understanding of differences in the culture. Our conversation went from views of politics, law enforcement, what we hope for the future, and ending with sheep (an odd ending, I know). I found myself having a wonderful time and how much of a difference it made to have someone to eat with. The loneliness I had felt at the pub the other day was forgotten and I enjoyed my fish n' chips to the fullest. We decided to call it a night and left the pub. David held out his hand once again. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Michael," he said. "I wish you a happy time here." "I hope so, too," I took his hand again. "And thanks for the suggestions on what to visit." We parted and I returned to my hotel room, feeling a soothing presence of being in a foreign land. I was an adventurer and, by my count, my adventure had only just begun. I slid into bed at half pass 10, preparing myself for the exciting day that awaited. As I closed my eyes and started to drift to sleep, a rumble from my stomach told me that my one meal wasn't enough. Maybe I'll get an apple or something from Tesco and then sleep, I rolled out of bed. This was going to be an interesting trip. To be continued... Music for the Journey Pt. 5:
First Morning in London: Akarui Yuurei by Nakanishi Ryousuke (Saikin, Imouto no Yousu ga Chotto Okashiinda ga. Original Soundtrack) I'm in the Wrong Place: Shino to Taka Toshi by Mori Yuuya (Seitokai Yakuindomo Original Soundtrack - Aria Ban) The Churchill War Rooms: Carry (Instrumental) by Tori Amos (Night of Hunters (Sin Palabras) [Instrumental Without Words]) Westminster Abbey: Kyne's Peace by Jeremy Soule (The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim: Original Game Soundtrack) Talking With David: All My Days by Alexi Murdoch (Time Without Consequence) Night: Remember today by Oomori Toshiyuki (Amagami SS Original Soundtrack) End Pt. 5: Tomorrow by Frank Hamilton (All of #Onesongaweek)
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Philip M. WardenI like to write and I like to travel. Why not put both together? Archives
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