Saturday Night in London

Since my trip to Monaco required that I fly in and out of Nice, a rather small airport, flights were not available for an early morning return home, so instead I arranged to travel from Nice to Heathrow on the second to the last day of my vacation. In addition to the pragmatic consideration, this also had the advantage of allowing me a short afternoon/evening in London, my favorite city in the world. Make no mistake about it, when I first planned this vacation I had initially booked two solid weeks in London, but upon further reflection I thought it best to try to branch out a bit, so instead I did the Berlin/Paris/Monaco route instead. Nonetheless, even though this afternoon was just for a few short hours, landing in Heathrow truly felt as if I had come home.

Since I had such a short time in London, I felt it best just to touch upon my sentimental favorites, and they were, of course, as I remembered them: The Strand Hotel looked unchanged; my favorite pub, the Lyceum, was unchanged save for a a new sign out front; my favorite restaurant, Little Italy, had changed names to "La Piazza," but otherwise appeared to have the same menu; the street performers in Covent Garden were still perfomring the same act; the Upper Crust in Charing Cross was still open; and the Adelphi was of course still providing theater, with "Chicago" having moved on to a different venue and "Ratpack" playing in its stead. All in all, home seemed to be unchanged.

I chuckled at myself when I stepped off the Picadilly Line in Covent Garden, and immediately felt that I knew the area far better than Seattle, where I have lived for over five years now. A couple of young women, noticing my "Hard Rock" jacket asked me if the establishment was in the neighborhood, to which I was able to reply quickly, that no, it was near Hyde Park. An elderly man asked me where the Adelphi was, and to my joy and amazement I knew and remembered quite well where it was. If you were to ask me where the Act Theater is in Seattle, I would be reaching for the GPS, but in London I just remembered the location.

While Monaco had been far warmer than either Paris or Berlin, London had the same numbing, bone-chilling cold, so I was only able to walk about for a short bit. In a way, I was glad the weather in London was no warmer than other parts of my trip, else I might have regretted not spending more time in the city. As it is, this is a good time to head back home and to plan on returning when the weather is more conducive to walking and admiring this incredible place.

So it is now my final night, and I am spending it at the Crowne Plaza near Heathrow. The terminal conversions are still in progress, but I believe I fly out of terminal one tomorrow morning. Vacations are always bittersweet at the end, and this is no exception. At some point, I really would like to make Europe a part of my daily life rather than a vacation spot. For now, though, I should be turning in shortly rather than dreading my return home.