Day 44: A Serendipidous Day in London Towne

Today was my last day in London.

I woke up early and finished packing. I have too many things to take home, but I don't really care.

I tidied up the room, the kitchen, the bathroom, and rolled my sheets into the pillowcase and placed them outside the door.

I opened up all the cupboards and drawers, once, twice, three times... checking and rechecking, hoping I hadn't forgot to remember anything important.

I sat with Jill as she straightened her hair and asked her what she'd like to do for her birthday, and her last day in good old London Towne.

And she said she wanted to walk...

So, walk we did.

***

We walked through the Keynance Mews... something that had been on my list of things to do for the last six weeks. The little houses were painted blue, and yellow, and white... and dark greeen ivy hung down around the windowsills. The bricks were that familiar green and red and purple mottled hue, and the potted plants and bicycles leaned against the walls. And then, of course, to complete the picture, we passed more than one typical English gentlemen walking his dog... all different kinds, but always horribly proper, and horribly English.

Today I passed a million people, and they all seemed to wink or nod or smile. It was as though London was saying goodbye... a million times goodbye. And I appreciated it, because London isn't always so friendly. But today, it was.

We walked past a pack of military men all dressed in uniform, and a hundred men in suits, hurrying to some appointment or other. We passed women laden with shopping bags, and teenagers with cigarettes. We passed old, wrinkly couples walking slowly, arm in arm, and little kids on plastic scooters or bicycles or trikes.

We walked through St. Jame's park and watched as people hurried past us, cell phones pressed against their ears. And we watched school groups, children looking expectantly at their teachers as they walked along the green.

We walked across a bridge, and watched the antics of a swan as he chased geese and patrolled the water's edge... and then we realized his little chicks were bobbing along on the other side of the bridge, awkwardly paddling around their mother's sides.

We walked to Buckingham palace, and appreciated the relatively small number of tourists wandering the streets and snapping pictures of the golden gates, the cold, stone walls, the tall marble fountain.

We walked across the pavement, and sat at the fountains edge... pulled out the extra one pence pieces from our coin bags, and tossed them, one by one, into the greenish water- enjoying the sounds as they plunked and rippled. Our only companions: the gargoyles who spoke in the soft sounds of water trickling from the mouth. And I wished again and again that this would not be the last time I walked the streets of London Town

We walked to the Borough Market, and enjoyed the smells that bombarded our noses, one after the other: fish, chocolate, fruit, curry, grease, vegge-burgers, vinegar, cheese.

I bought tortolini filled with butter nut squash and sage, and ate as we made our way back to the tube.

As the train rumbled along, we dozed off, heads huddled together and bouncing, but comfortable. We groggily opened our eyes, and saw the words "Oxford Street" printed in large, black letters on the wall outside the train... with the sudden realization that this was our stop, we jumped to our feet in a hurry, and hopped off the train. The doors closed behind us as we stepped onto the platform, just in time.

There was a quick stop at Primark... (afterall, my Keds were wearing out fast, what with all the walking, and I needed a pair to bring home). And Jill needed another piece of luggage to put things in. I watched as people stood in lines, endless lines, and wondered how any employee handled the mayhem. Or how many things were shoplifted on any given day.

We made an accidental stop at Cranberry... (which sounds suspicious, I admit), but we ran into one at a tube stop with which we were unfamiliar. I stocked up on chocolate covered, cinnamon dusted hazelnuts, Yovita raspberries, and dried, sugared slices of mango.

We took the bus home, and settled into our favorite spot: the two seats on the top level, right in the front. You could put your feet up on the bar and look out at the people walking by through the huge window at the front of the bus. It was almost like a ride in Disneyland, only it was real life, and the people weren't made of plastic.

We arrived home and walked up the four flights of stairs to our fifth floor flat at 37 Hyde Park Gate... It was quiet. Many of the girls were already flying over the Atlantic, or sleeping in airports.

I settled into a nook on the counter, in the corner of the kitchen where boxes and boxes of cereal had been only the day before. Jill was busy boiling water for her ham and cheese tortolini, and I stared out the window, looking at the ivy covered buildings I'd grown so used to seeing...

There was the patio a couple floors down where I'd observed a young couple re-tiling, cleaning, and placing potted plants over the last month and a half. It was nearly finished, despite the interference of their small grey dog.

As the light faded from blue to grey, I saw the big screen TV crackle to life in the window across from ours. The man who lived there must have been lonely, because the television was constantly buzzing... you could see the lights flickering late into the night.

There were the houses farther down that a dozen famous people had lived in at one point or another... but now I couldn't recall who, or when.

Jill finished her cooking and we sat on her bed and talked. We talked about the day. And the long hours of travel that tomorrow held. We talked about what we could do in our last night in London, and we talked about the first things we'd do when we got home. We talked about what we'd miss, and what we wouldn't.

And then we decided to go to Mamma Mia with Rachel, Elise, and Cali for our last hurrah.

It felt like we ran the whole way there, barely making it in time to buy student tickets twenty minutes before the show. Our seats were 27 pounds each, but they were smack in the middle of the front row of the balcony... we were twenty feet from the stage, and we could see everything.

The set was clever. It was based on a couple of slanted, cylindrical, rotating pieces that created a variety of different shapes and settings. And with a little help from some absolutely gorgeous lighting, a great musical score (thanks to ABBA), and excellent actors, the whole show was a complete success. I couldn't believe how much I enjoyed each number individually... I was constantly surprised, and absolutely mesmerized by the qwerky, crazy, cliche, and out-there. I laughed till my stomach hurt, I cried till my heart ached, and I got up and danced like there was no tomorrow at the end.

I was happy that this was my last night in London, that it had been perfect, and that this is how I spent it: rocking out in the balcony of a West End Theatre, as people around us laughed, and people on the stage romped around in shiny, stretch pant material.

We made a late night stop at the Tesco Express across from Gloucester. The eyes of the woman at the cash register grew large in unbelief as she watched me pile six packages of digestive biscuits onto the counter, (and one pack of gum). I explained (as she laughed) that I was going home in the morning, and that I had to bring some of these 30 pence packages of goodness along. She just shook her head with a knowing smile, and took my five pound note.

I walked up the stairs for what would probably be the last time. I let my hand drag along the white banister, and took the steps one at a time, instead of two.

After all these weeks, I was coming home. And in my stomach I could feel the butterflies of excitement and anticipation start to flutter.

Jill and I were already packed. There was nothing left to do. And so, we had a dance party... just the two of us. We danced and danced until our feet were sore, and our bodies exhausted.

And then we settled into the couches in the commons for one last sleepover in London Towne, listening to taxi cabs and double decker buses as they passed below the window of our flat at 37 Hyde Park Gate, District of Kensington, London, England.