Of Kings and Pounds

St. Paul's Cathedral

Prior to this past weekend, the only time I have had to show my passport was to convince the man at a Tesco off-license that I was indeed over 18. Needless to say, I was excited to head off for a few days in London after six weeks in Ireland and put that passport to better use. On Thursday evening we caught a flight to Heathrow and found our way via the tube to our hostel in Lambeth, an area south of the river Thames. I believe it was meant to be called the London Eye Hostel, but the address led us to a place called Journeys. Hungry at midnight in London? Try a train station. Imagine Penn Station on a night that the randoms come out while wishing you didn't miss your train; you get the idea. After a quick stop to take in Big Ben and the London Eye, Friday morning's first priority was finding an atm, a Barclay's atm to be exact. Finally, a bank with no fees; bring on the pence and pounds! Hardly do I want to know how that translated into US dollars. Pounds in the pocket, we saw the changing of the guard at Buckingham Palace and walked up to the National Art Gallery in Trafalgar Square. Oh, and when you have a moment, ask Erin Mooney for her picture of the Queen. We spent the remainder of the afternoon milling around the stores on Oxford Street and witnessed an awfully brilliant street show compliments of a Finn. That evening we picked up a few 2 for 5 bottles of wine and proceeded to destroy our corkscrew... epic fail. Rather disappointed, Conor, Brenna, and myself opted for a few cans of beer (6 for 5 this time, what a deal) and roamed the streets looking for someplace to eat. Guess what, we ended up back at the train station. However, my panini was excellent and there were fewer creeps to be seen. On a hunch from Conor we caught a cab to a place called the Wellington, which resulted in a bit of confusion with a taxi driver and a ride that took three times as long as it should have. Our intended destination was the Lyceum Tavern, where the pints were cheap and the conversation most enlightening. The rest of the group wandered in a bit later and we headed to an Australian pub called Walk About. Problem: we still had unopened beers in our jackets; solution: hide them outside and hope for the best. Seriously, don't try this at home, but they were right where we left them when we got out an hour later and I thoroughly enjoyed a beer on the taxi ride back to the hostel. Our touristy nature continued on Saturday with a visit to St. Paul's Cathedral and the London Tower. St. Paul's is an Anglican Church first constructed in the seventh century and it's dome is among the highest in the world, rivaled only by the Basilica in Rome. If you are looking for an amazing view and can handle all 530 steps, I recommend making/climbing your way up to the Golden Gallery at the top of the dome. The view was simply unbelievable, though it was hard not to notice all the cranes and construction going on in London. I wonder how the city will look in two more years when the Olympics are about to begin. We carved our way along the river's edge towards London Tower and, as I am sure many do, I discovered that the London Bridge is a lie and the bridge of legend is actually the Tower Bridge. At first glance the London Tower was not nearly as impressive as I had imaged, but you cannot deny the history so deeply rooted in the very stones of the castle. Two personal favorite moments were standing on the execution ground of Anne Boleyn and taking in the beauty of the Crown Jewels. That evening we ate at a Chinese restaurant (which loved us) and met up with John, another Fordham student studying in London. Conor and I called it a bit of an early night and made it back to the hostel after a long and misguided walk for a good nights sleep while the girls headed off to a club. Needless to say our ambitious plans for Sunday morning were postponed a bit, but we still managed to see the 9-3/4 platform at Kings Cross Station and the Abbey Road Studio. I will admit I am not the biggest Beatles fan, but as a musician I could not help but stand in awe and appreciate the creativity and brilliance that has come out of that place. Attempting to get a shot recreating the album cover proved a bit tricky, but in the end I think we captured a few that work rather well. At that point it was midway through the afternoon and we still had fourteen or fifteen hours to kill before our flight back to Dublin early the next morning. We caught the tube back down to Green Park and essentially moved into a pub called the Clarence. We were all out of money but still managed to eat well and have a few drinks. Two of Lauren's friends living in London, James and Victoria, met us there and several hours of random conversation ensued. For the record, they have both promised to visit for St. Patrick's Day. Last call was around 10:30 and after an improvised photo shoot by a phone booth we spent the last of our Oyster Cards on the tube back to Heathrow. Goodbye London? Not quite. This story is not complete without an account of the hours spent in the airport. For all intents and purposes, Heathrow shuts down between 11pm and 4am. Some of us managed to sleep on the floor, others of us were to riled up to sit down, and in general we all suffered from a strong dose of delusion. You just cannot make this stuff up. Would I do it again? Absolutely. In the end, I feel the same way about London as I do about many places I visit. The city has more to offer and discover than can ever be taken in over a weekend, but I think we made the most of it. With the tourist attractions out of the way it would be grand to spend a few more days in London, but time will tell. I find it hard to believe classes are nearly halfway over here at UCD and my spring break trip starts in a little over a week. Until then, I keep counting my blessings for the people and places I have seen and hope that when the smoke clears all these experiences will synthesize into something worth remembering. Cheers.

more photographs here