Day 1: London

I have been more or less awake for the last 31 hours. This being my first time traveling overseas in 13 years, I am battling all the jetlag and discomfort and general awfulness that my five year old mind so happily forgot during our family vacation to Ireland in 2000. Let this be my disclaimer, my excuse, my whatever. It's been a long day(s?).

I don't want to focus too much on the airport and plan ride experience, given that they were so deeply unpleasant. Suffice it to say there was a lot of sitting and waiting, a lot of regret when it came to the airline food, and a lot of cursing the ancestral line of whoever invented economy seating.

We got a ride from the airport from a particularly unfriendly cab driver, who charged boldly into the morning rush hour and, dodging aggressive traffic, whisked us to the heart of the city. It was then that we were dumped, windblown, dazed, and smelling quite ripe, at the doorstep of our hotel, only to find we couldn't check in for another five hours. We dragged ourselves the half block the nearest café in an effort to pull ourselves together as much as possible.

It was there, at the Coco Momo café, that we had our first London meal. I settled on a coffee to appease my raging caffeine headache (I just couldn't bring myself to drink the airline coffee) and a bagel with lox. The food was good enough, nothing particularly special, but the coffee was intense and rich and dark and exactly, exactly what a coffee should be.

The guys opted for a traditional English breakfast, complete with the seemingly less-than-appetizing cold baked beans and a cup of tea, while Mom decided on a yogurt-granola combo filled with dried and fresh fruits. Not being a huge breakfast fan ordinarily, I was pleasantly surprised by how delicious everything was.

Still sleep deprived, but feeling a little more human, we found our way to the bus stop that would take us on one of those cheesy double-decker bus tours of the city. (Note: it is probably more accurate to say that we lost our way to the bus stop. I'm pretty sure we only found it by accident.) The first part of the tour we spent zigging and zagging around the city, taking the same pictures of the same landmarks as everyone else who had ever taken the tour. The tour guide, however, made the hour-long ride memorable, delivering the tour with an impressive commitment to snark and weird, weird humor. He also was strangely preoccupied with our American-ness, calling us out on our accents and joking that one day, Kate and Prince William's child would retake the colonies. Yikes.

 

We hopped off the tour bus at the London Eye, wading through the mobs of confused tourists (that is, even more confused than we were) to the front of the line. Buying advance tickets allowed us to skip the waiting, which was glorious. I think I would have cried if I had been forced to stand in line for any length of time, given my state of exhaustion.

We reached the boarding deck and joined about eight other people in one of the pods, which are, sadly, fully enclosed. We rose slowly over the city, finding landmarks on the horizon with the map they'd provided, stood for one brief, but glorious instant at the top of the Eye, and sank slowly back to ground level,  all the while admiring the city and dodging people's selfies.

After the Eye, we found our way (this time without getting totally lost!) back to the bus stop. Armed with absurdly overpriced ice cream cones, we hit the streets of London again, this time with a considerably less charismatic tour guide. When the tour ended, we were dumped into Trafalgar Square (essentially the center of the city) and we made a beeline to the nearest pub.

Obviously.

I got to order my first alcoholic beverage (woohoo, European drinking age!) and, like Mom, I opted for an Irish cider, rather the malty beast the guys were drinking. If I knew anything about either beers or ciders, I would elaborate, but I don't. I just know that what I ordered was delicious and refreshing and that I will probably actively seek it out again at some point before we leave.

In addition to the drinks, we ordered some sampler plates, which came stacked high with  bread, fruit, and cheeses (Stilton, aged cheddar and my favorite, a melty, creamy Camembert), as well as a tiny quiche and some ballin' onion chutney. So far, this place has brought its A-game, food-wise. (Or perhaps I'm just happy it isn't airline food...?) We finished our drinks and headed hotel-wards, overexcited at the possibility of a shower.

We arrived and finally checked in, and I dumped my luggage in the nearest corner and passed out cold for a solid hour or so before gathering the energy to shower. The family stepped out for a quick walk and to peruse a nearby market, but lacking the willpower to make myself sit up, let alone get dressed and go for a spin, here I am: clean and using my last ounce of brainpower to write this update.

That's everything from today, but I'll be back tomorrow with more travel adventures, for sure! Much love to everyone back home!!!