For many years, it had been my dream to visit England. How could it not be with it being the home of so many beloved stories that have shaped my childhood and early adulthood? The English weather, which all Londoners complain about as a general rule, seemed blissful to me, someone who craves cool, cloudy days whenever I look out the window to another 90 degree day of perfectly blue sky. The accents are more distinguished, everyone dresses in cardigans or wellies and afternoon tea is a peaceful time in the day where all of your troubles evaporate like the steam from your teacup. This was the England I wanted to see, and I did, but I also saw so much more.
Author, and Londoner, Alain de Botton writes in his book, The Art of Travel, about anticipation. How it is often the planning and excitement that comes before travel that draws us to it. When we do finally arrive at our destination, some of the dreams we had do indeed come true, but many do not. He shares a personal anecdote about how he believed that once he was on a sunny beach, all of his worries about work and his relationships would leave him. But in reality, he found himself walking along a sandy beach and still worrying about his everyday anxieties. Just because we transport ourselves thousands of miles away (by the way, London is a frightening 4,386 miles and 11 hours by plane away from my hometown of Springfield, Missouri) doesn’t mean that we aren’t the same person.
The picture I chose for this post is from The Making of Harry Potter studio tour in London, a day trip I took during my summer there. Anyone at all familiar with the series will recognize the mirror I stand in front of and realize why I chose this photo for this particular post. The mirror that shows us our greatest desires showed me no magic that day (ah, well we all have to come to terms with our muggle status at some point). It simply showed a lone person nearing the end of her time abroad. Someone who had seen Kings Cross Station, had visited 221B Baker Street and talked to people with British accents and drunk tea on rainy afternoons. It also showed me someone who got a bad sunburn in Regent’s park and had to buy a room fan because most places are not air conditioned. It showed me someone who realized that London can be a very lonely city and that the vast, overwhelming majority of people there aren’t British at all, but people who come from different countries around the world like me. It wasn’t so much that London wasn’t what I anticipated it to be, it’s actually that I had no idea what I was getting myself into. Traveling is hard. Traveling alone to a different country is even harder – but it is what makes it worth it. Yes, there were some disappointments, but then there were also incredibly positive experiences that will stay with me forever. Travel is all about reconciling your anticipation with your experiences and the ability to say yes, I did it, I did what I’ve wanted to do for a long time and achieved my goal.
my summer in london 