Note: Sorry this is taking so long, but I've got more posts to get in here eventually!
Early to Bed, Early to Rise
Well, not so much of the “early to bed part”; but certainly I was up before the dawn of the new day! I very reluctantly packed my suitcase and nearly started crying when locking the door of Silk Cottage behind me. Never in my life have I known such peace as I found within its walls; a sense of “this is who I really am”. I’m a small-village girl. I like being on a first-name basis with the local women at the shop/café. I like the ale in the pub. I like being alone but not too alone. I like being surrounded by flowers and greenery. I like taking a long walk through the countryside. I do not, however, like being chased by a momma sheep. I like the feeling of coming home to a place I’ve never been before and that, more than anything, is what I will miss the most. I found an integral part of myself here. I hope I don’t lose it in the chaos that is my life in Iraq.
Bus Stop Sally
I dragged my suitcase (and let me tell you, I always overpack!) to the bus stop where I had been dropped off a week prior. I was standing there, feeling like a know-it-all because I didn’t need directions or anything to get around and then…I needed directions. A kindly lady stopped by while out on her morning walk and after she inquired as to my destination and I proudly stated “Moreton-in-Marsh”, she tut-tutted and said, “Dear, you are at the wrong stop”. What the…?! I thanked her nicely (my momma raised me with SOME manners, after all) and headed over to the new stop and a very few minutes later, I was on the bus and on my way. Thank God for kindly ladies!
Mum!!!
I caught the train in Moreton-in-Marsh and sat glumly as with every mile I left a world I had come to cherish behind me. As the scenery slowly changed from stunning countryside to charming towns to metropolitan cities, I couldn’t help but wish that I could come back again very, very soon. At the same time, knowing that my mom was already waiting for me in London (I booked her a stay at the Yotel in Heathrow Airport since she was landing so very early and I wouldn’t be there until nearly lunchtime), well, that added a lot of sweet to the bitter. The train pulled into Paddington Station and I bolted for the Heathrow Express. Less than 30 minutes later, I was inside Heathrow Airport and making my way to Terminal 4 to pick up my mom. I took the elevator to the upper floor where both the Yotel and a restaurant are located (we’d already arranged to meet in the restaurant). I rounded the corner and there she was, sitting there with her beautiful sweet smile and my heart, which had been hurting all morning at leaving the Cotswolds behind, filled up with delight. I don’t think I could have hugged her long enough to express how happy I was to not only see her in person, but to see her in London; a place I know she’d been longing to see all of her life.
Taxi
We had a quick bite at the restaurant. I’m still laughing at the look on her face when I waved goodbye to a nice gentleman as he left and she said, “Do you know him?” and I replied, “I met him up at the counter” (I’d gone up to the counter to order our meal and we introduced ourselves to one another although his name escapes me now). I’d gotten a lot less shy on this trip, that’s for sure! After we finished, we made our way down to the lower level of the terminal where we caught the London Express back to Paddington Station (adventurous as I can sometimes be, I did not feel like subjecting my mom to the London Underground while loaded down with bags, etc). I enjoyed so much watching her face as she looked out the window and I could almost see what she was thinking. It was wonderful. We arrived at Paddington Station and that’s when I realized that I’d forgotten to get more money out of the bank. I realized this as we were standing in line for a taxi and so we asked the gentleman putting people into the taxis if he could get us one that would accept a credit card (with me thinking that it was going to cost oodles of pounds to get from Paddington Station to Lancaster Gate at Hyde Park). We finally got into one and off we went. And I need not have worried; the fare was very low compared to what I’d had in mind and it turns out that I had that much in cash on my person as it was.
The Conservatory Suite
We arrived at the London Elizabeth Hotel and were met at the front desk by a very nice and charming young lady. She said that we had been upgraded to the Conservatory Suite and we were handed this really old fashioned key for the room. The elevator was out-of-order; so up we walked to the next floor (thank goodness it wasn’t any higher!). The room, upon first impressions, was beautiful. I should mention here that the hotel is decorated to reflect the Edwardian (or early twentieth century) era and the building itself was likely built around then, if not earlier (Mom could probably be more certain about it than me). We unpacked (well, Mom unpacked; my suitcase exploded in all directions as usual) and we rested for a little while. I woke up to late sunshine on my face and woke Mom so that we could get ready for our first evening out on the town. We dressed, headed out the door and flagged down a taxi.
All’s Well that Ends Well
My mom and I both love Shakespeare. My very favorite is Hamlet (don’t ask me why, but I totally get the guy!). I’m not sure what Mom’s favorite is (I think she might like the sonnets best of all, but you’d need to verify that with her to be sure). Last month, I got online and was able to get front-row seats in the upper gallery of The Globe Theatre (where Shakespeare staged his new-to-his-generation plays) for the opening night of “All’s Well that Ends Well”. As we barreled across London to the theatre (and had a great taxi driver who was more than happy to chat with Mom about this, that and the other thing), people were getting out and about for the evening. With the Royal Wedding just a day and a half away, London is filling up fast! Some people are already camped out and the party atmosphere is definitely getting started. It’s going to be very fun to see how it all goes. We arrived at the theatre, picked up our tickets and headed for our seats. Now, this is where you’re going to get a very valuable piece of advice that you might not want to forget should you ever go to London and wish to see a Shakespeare play at the Globe Theatre: there are people standing there renting seat cushions and blankets as you pass from the visitor’s center into the Theatre (which is about 400 years old) itself. These people are not there to scam you nor are they there for decoration. They are there, my friend, to keep you from freezing your tushy off. Maybe it was because we were in a hurry or maybe it was because we’re from the great state of Oregon and don’t need no freakin’ blankets to keep warm or a cushion for our behinds; in any case, it was a grave mistake on our part. While the theatre itself is fascinating in its layout (Google it and you’ll see what I mean); its exposure to the elements leaves a lot to be desired! So at intermission, I headed out in search of seat cushions and blankets. And while the seat cushions were still readily available, the blankets, alas!, were not. I ducked into the gift shop and found a blanket for 30 GBP (so about 48 USD). Yes, I know. I still haven’t recovered from the sticker shock of that one. There was a huge line and no time to get a hot drink to warm Mom and I up (silly me was wearing a burgundy silk blouse and Mom was wearing a blouse and cardigan but we were both still freezing). However, I felt somewhat victorious in that I arrived back at our seats on time and out of breath but with a blanket and some seat cushions as my trophies.
Cosmopolitan Meals
After the play ended (which, BTW, it was hilarious and highly entertaining!), Mom and I debated about where to go to get a bite to eat. We settled on visiting one of the eateries inside the visitor’s center. We were shown to a table which had a lovely view of London and the Thames River. It was very noisy and filled with people but fun nevertheless. I think Mom liked her dinner; I didn’t much care for mine but then again, I’m an extremely selective eater and can’t stand anything pretentious or with too strong of flavor. Normally, this would have irked me; however, I was just happy being with my mom in this fantastic setting and watching the world that surrounded us.
Home, James
After dinner, the restaurant staff called a taxi for us (as it was very late) and this is where we learned the difference between the black cabs of London and some chap who’s making some money by picking up fares for a friend. Our driver had no idea where it was we wanted to go and even with a navigation system, kept going in circles. I had a hard time holding back some snippy comments; but mindful that 1. My mom was with me and wouldn’t appreciate my brand of snippiness even if it was well-deserved and 2. Sometimes people just don’t know where to go in life and God knows I’m usually in that crowd, well, I just kept taking deep breaths and tried to help the guy along. We finally found our hotel, paid him the outrageous fare, and headed upstairs to a well-deserved night’s sleep. And there, dear friend, is where I say “sweet dreams” to you all.
Bravo! Your descriptive writing brought many smiles to my face. I remembered why your friendship in Taji was always interesting. You are a gifted storyteller.
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