I am really bad with directions. Incredibly bad. I could probably (read: definitely) get lost driving in my own neighborhood that I’ve lived in for the past 15+ years. I think that was probably my mom’s main concern when letting me go to a different city alone, simply getting lost, especially in a foreign country where I don’t have cell phone data, so Google Maps only functions when I have wifi (very stressful by the way).
So my very first outing in London required a bit of planning, in fact, all of my outings did. I looked up where I was going, where the closest tube station was, wrote directions in my phone, even took screenshots of the maps on my screen and saved them as pictures. My first full day was a Sunday. I woke up early and headed to this beautiful garden/cathedral that I had seen suggested on Pinterest particularly for Sunday mornings because it’s so quiet and peaceful. I had a plan and everything. Walk to Angel Tube station, by your first ever Oyster Card, get on the right train and go three stops to Bank Station (<- pretty much the mantra I kept repeating in my head the whole time so I wouldn’t get lost). Then I just had to walk down Prince Henry (or something like that) Street and I would be there! It wasn’t so easy in real life…
You see, in most places (I’m assuming) in the United States, the streets make a grid formation that makes navigating much simpler. Not so in London. I emerge from Bank Tube station and somehow find myself standing on a sidewalk in the middle of an intersection of six or seven different roads, none of which are Prince Henry Something or Other (although the street signs aren’t always visible – why make it easy on us poor tourists?). I had no idea where I was so I just started walking. After a few minutes I was questioning the whole purpose of my trip to London. Why go if I wasn’t going to be able to find any of the places I wanted to see? In short, I was cursing the city and it’s entire existence.
But that’s the funny thing about getting lost. Sometimes you find things that you never intended to find. For example: a lovely and unexpected view of Tower Bridge.
I kept walking at that point, still more than a little put out by getting lost so quickly. But then I see it. What’s that peaking through the trees? Surely not the famous dome of St. Pauls Cathedral!
Word and pictures cannot express the sheer massiveness of this place. And as soon as I saw it and walked up to it I knew everything was going to be okay. That I had come here for a reason and that it’s going to be okay. In fact, I ended up walking by and visiting St. Pauls several times more in my time there, and every time it filled me with such peace (usually, I’m not overly sentimental about such things, but for some reason I am now). And you know what? In the end I did end up finding that ruddy garden place I intended to go first, and it was pretty cool.
my summer in london 