A jolly good time in London, mate!

So I'm afraid my 15-year love affair with France may be coming to a close... Or may have all of a sudden been eclipsed (perhaps only temporarily) by a new obsession: LONDON. I've been before--4 days in 2002--but it was a whirlwind of mostly jetlagged touring interspersed with panic attacks since I was on my way to Paris to live with a host family and was petrified about being forced to employ my very minimal French speaking abilities. Plus, I was staying in Wimbledon and so didn't get the full effect of the city 24/7. But this past weekend, thanks to a Carleton friend doing a term of business school in London, I got to stay in Earl's Court in a gorgeous apartment right next to the tube and Kensington Garden. At risk of sounding ridiculous, it was magical. :)

I got to London on Friday around 11:30--no problems with the flight or with the supposedly raised level of security in London. Hopped a train into the city from Gatwick and was at Ernie's door (which is quite posh, by the way!) in Earl's Court by 1ish, just as he was waking up... We went to a delicious Greek lunch with a friend of his, and I attempted to just ignore the fact that London, as amazing as it is, is ridiculously expensive. Then Ernie went off to study and bribe a pharmacy to give him antibiotics without making him see a doctor for 150 pounds, and I went off to meet up with my Somerville friends, Josh and Rissa, who were visiting London for the weekend and whose trip had prompted me to buy my ticket so early and so cheaply back in November. After soaking up some of the amazing sun that I don't think I'd seen in 3 weeks (it was snowing in Lyon when I left on Friday morning) and snapping some quick pictures on the way, I met up with Josh and Rissa at the Tate Britain. 

We made a half-hearted attempt to walk through it but quickly realized that we should just head to a pub for a pint since we had way too much France/Somerville gossip to catch up on.

They had dinner reservations at 8 so I went back to Ernie's, and we went off to eat some of the best sushi I've ever had. Sidenote: I had very specific food cravings that I decided I needed to fulfill in London because, while France does many things extremely well, it doesn't do everything. We washed the sushi down with some delicious beer at a pub nearby before being hustled out at 11:30. 

Apparently, a lot of pubs close super early in London--a bit of a downside, but I was exhausted and wanted to get up early on Saturday so I didn't mind heading home.

I woke up relatively early on Saturday morning and slipped out with Ernie's extra key since he had warned me he wasn't interested in getting up really ever. I had been planning on heading straight to the Tate Modern and then meeting up with Josh and Rissa again at the British Museum in the afternoon, but it was so sunny and beautiful that I couldn't make myself go into the tube. Instead, I had the bright idea to walk through the gardens and across the river all the way to the Tate Modern. I vaguely remembered the gardens being A LOT longer than they looked on the map (Kate and Em Crane and I affectionately referred to our 2002 walk through the parks as the Kensington Death March), but I generally never feel like I'm actually visiting a city until I walk through a good portion of it. It did end up being quite a trek, but I just couldn't get enough of the sun and the blue sky and the gorgeous city. I took some stalker pictures of cute little British children playing soccer (really, just as cute as French children!). 

And I stumbled upon the changing of the guard since I randomly ended up at Buckingham Palace right around noon. I forgot what a huge deal that is. There were crazy soldiers with gleaming swords on horses, riding right in the streets next to cars. 

And of course, a ton of those little guys with the huge furry hats. 

And a full orchestra that played for about a half an hour. And a million people EVERYWHERE.

Then I escaped back into the parks for some peace and quiet, along with some pelican petting.

This little guy was just LOVING it when people petted his head. I could almost hear him purring, or whatever happy sound pelicans make... I also had to stop to take a hundred pictures in the rose garden because, in spite of the cold weather with actual SNOW on the ground, there were randomly flowers still alive and blooming. Kind of cool.

I eventually made it to the river, crossed one of the many bridges, and headed to Borough Market for a pasty (which was delicious) and a bunch of free samples to round out my lunch. 

Then I beelined it to the Tate Modern and was blown away by the installment in the entryway. It was this huge cattle car-like metal box that you could walk into. 

It was absolutely pitch black inside, and the walls were furry, which was a bit unsettling when I first bumped into them... 

I took my time going through the rest of the museum and had to almost run from the Tate to the British Museum to meet up with Josh and Rissa at 5. For some reason, I felt compelled to walk there too, even though my feet felt like they were going to fall off. 

I swear, with the parks and the river walk and then both museums, I must have walked like 20 miles total! The British Museum was only open until 5:30 so I busted through it to see the Rosetta Stone, the "stolen" Parthenon artifacts, and the Egyptian mummies. Then Josh and Rissa and I went off on a hunt for good, not too expensive Indian food, and I took the obligatory telephone booth picture as we walked.

We ended up finding an awesome little place near Covent Garden that claimed to be the first Punjabi restaurant in all of the UK! Not sure if that was true, but the food was amazing.

I had been planning on meeting up with Ernie and going out on the town later that night, but the combo of walking all day, TONS of delicious food, and a bit of a cold that I really didn't want to morph into anything worse convinced me to call it a night. Lame, I know, but I wanted to play it safe and not do anything stupid before having surgery back in Lyon...

I slept in on Sunday, tried desperately to wake Ernie up a million times, and finally abandoned him to go watch Rob, the friend of one of my British friends in Lyon who had come skiing with us a couple weeks ago, in a fencing competition at Imperial College right near where Ernie's living. Rob's the one on the right.

It was hilarious and awesome. I couldn't stay too long, but I did get some pointers from Rob on good fencing technique and got to cheer him on in his ridiculously amazing outfit. I still have no idea how the points are all tallied or if his team was winning or losing...

Went back to Ernie's and harassed him until he finally started moving. Then we went out for the English/Irish breakfast that I had been craving for approximately two months. 

It was everything I had hoped and more. :) Ernie went back to attempt more studying (although I have a sneaking suspicion he just went back to bed), and I went to Victoria station to meet up with an exchange student who had lived with a good friend of my family's and had gone to my high school in 1994-1995. 

We got a quick coffee and reminisced about Readfield and Maranacook, and then I had to head to the airport.

My flight back went off without a hitch too, and I made it back home to freezing, snowy Lyon by 10. I know my obsession with London probably has a lot to do with the beautiful weather and seeing good friends and loving the respite of being able to understand everything and communicate with everyone so easily. (Although I did keep trying to speak in French to the BRITISH flight attendants to which they responded that they spoke the Queen's tongue. Hilarious.) But I'm seriously contemplating amending my "Operation Find Emily a French Husband" to be "Operation Find Emily a British Husband." In any case, I can't wait to go back!!!