Wednesday, June 22, 2011

#11: London

Scene
Ever since undergrad started, I've always wanted to backpack through Europe (or originally the Scottish Highlands) after graduation.  However, with the uncertainty of acceptance into med school, I didn't have a free summer to just travel, but rather I had to find activities to improve my appeal to med schools for the next application cycle.

So here I am as I just finished MS1. I decided to spend some me time. No research this summer. I've done that for too many summers and years in undergrad. I needed to refresh my mind, take time and distance away from med school, chillax, and recharge for, basically, the next 3 years. Like I said, I didn't have this opportunity before to refresh before med school started, so there's no better time than now.

I'm just some wandering backpacker through Europe conspicuously lost among the ranks of locals. I'm not obnoxiously getting in people's way with a family or in a tour group with a queue of other tourists with fanny packs behind me. Just me somewhere in the crowds, but with a huge noticeable backpack. I really should have dressed up like Waldo. Someone better get on that idea ASAP. Anywho, a bit sidetracked, that's how I like it: "Yeah, you're a tourist, but you've got a backpack and you're alone. We respect that. Props to you." At least that's how I'd like to think of it.

Casey was supposed to go with me, but she had other plans and concerns to take care of before moving away and heading off herself to med school. Sad she couldn't come. She wanted to see London and from what I've experienced, she would have loved the city.

Let's see where to start...I must say I love the ticket counter agent who gave me an exit row seat for the first connecting flight and a bulkhead seat for the transatlantic flight. Talk about leg room galore and I made sure to take full advantage of it flying across the Pond. I must, however, say that service from the flight attendants were...piss poor. Grumpy or some unnecessary displacement of stress.

Anyhow, I arrived in Heathrow on 4 hours of sleep the night before and ~3 hours on the plane on and off. First thing I learned that "a line" is "a queue." Apparently, the border patrol officer knew the hostel where I would be staying. The most striking initial observation was that everything was on the left side. I knew that driving would be on the left, but walking also? After a few hordes of people plowed into me...message taken.

Surprisingly, the Tube, the actual carriage itself was pretty small. Much narrower than the metro or subway cars in the states. I mean, British people who use the Tube were quite fit unlike us Americans. And my, my, Londoners know how to dress. Suits fit, especially pants. Women wore proper skirts. But, everyone pretty much had impeccably styled hair. Even the students dressed superbly well.

Arriving at the hostel, I was greeted with an extremely cute receptionist. Welcome to freakin' awesome London. She was Italian and my Italian failed to impress, but elicited a few laughs. One brownie point for me. Back on track here, I went for a stroll, a long stroll through Hyde Park on this brisk afternoon. Wearing shorts, you could pick me out from everyone else. Seriously, everyone wore pants, or rather, trousers. Pants are underwear. Kensington Palace and garden were magnificent and gorgeous. Hyde Park was a proper park with clear open spaces, ponds, and wide paths. Very well kept compared to American standards.

After getting disoriented in Hyde Park, I ended up meandering about through Kensington High Street, Notting Hill, and nearby communities. Quintessential London townhomes with each door painted a different color. Just like in Notting Hill, but how I wish I was an American boy standing in front of a British girl asking her to love me. Tis a pity that didn't happen.

Returning back to the hostel, I met and got to know the only Brit I could find. Ben was a fine chap from Birmingham visiting London for the first time. We went for some fish and chips at a local pub sharing a pint of Stella and Guinness. A proper pub. No dance floor, no blaring music, no shouting across the table, no completely smashed hooligans. Just proper booths with proper conversations. Most importantly, a proper pour of Guinness with just the right amount of head unlike the thin crappy layer back in the States. That was a good pint.

The second day in London was a tour de force. British Museum, St. Paul's, Fleet Street, Globe Theater, Tate Modern, London Bridge, Tower Bridge, London Eye, Houses of Parliament, Westminster Abbey, Downing Street, Trafalgar Square, National Gallery, Leceister Square, Picadilly Circus, Covent Garden, and Harrod's. These were all proper visits, as in I just didn't walk by or stopped by. I walked around, went inside, perused about, and actually stopped to take in the surroundings.

Best site: the Globe Theater. Hands down. It's a bit off the beaten path, but it's breathtaking and engaging. The tour guide was a slicked hair deadpan sarcastic bloke. Well worth every pence...and no, he wasn't a prostitute. Really wish I could have seen a play in the outdoors at the Globe. That would have made me even more chuffed. Can't have the cake and eat it too I suppose.

That evening, Ben, Reana(?) (another hostel roommate), and I went to grab some Indian food for supper. My first ever exposure to Indian restaurant food. Lamb tikka masala. I was extremely adventurous. Left quite a good first impression and I'll definitely seek out Indian food in the near distant future.

Gorgeous city. Of all the urban cities I've visited London is up there with Montreal as an urban city I wouldn't mind living in. I'm not a city person, so that speaks volumes. Most of all, the ladies.

Random observations:

English girls...oh dear lord, they're just downright good looking, from their attire to physique. Not sure if I had an adequate sample size, but I don't care. Ok, fine, I'll stop. Maybe not. Emma Watson. That's it.

I almost got run over by a cabbie...because I can't seem to look in the right direction since the Brits drive on the wrong side. It was really a matter of inches. No lie.

Everything is on the left side. People walk, drive, and ride their bikes on the left. If you walk on the right side, you're not from around here.

Hyde Park is ridiculously huge. Huge. But, extremely calm and peaceful.

With the hostel situated in South Kensington: 20 Porsches, 15 Aston Martins, 10 Ferraris, 5 Bentleys, and 2 Rolls-Royce later, it was basically a Top Gear show.

I've found more foreigners in London than actual British folks. Americans were everywhere. Literally, everyfreakinwhere. Americans got in my way more. So frustrating when they're quite oversized.

If you think you live the high live and flashing the dough in the States when you go shopping, then go shop (or rather, browse) at Harrod's. That'll shut you up and put your money where your mouth is. If you think your local shopping mall has high standards, you haven't seen real class until you go to Harrod's. Seriously, a barber and gentleman's lounge? Proper.

That's what London is: Proper. Minus the Americans.

Question
What's your favorite European city? Why? 

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