Well, Blogosphere. We made it across the pond in one (very tired) piece! Though a bit worse for wear, thanks in large part to the 10 hour direct flight from Los Angeles, we made it to the UK, through customs, onto the London Underground (The Tube, Picadilly Line to the Central Line), met my brother to get his keys and to my brother's flat in Bethnal Green, whereupon we rediscovered an energetic spark!
No. No, we did not.
After regrouping and realizing we were, in fact, in another country, we dealt with the strange fact that our bodies said it was the middle of the night, but our accurately reconfigured watches said it was actually mid afternoon in sunny London. We dealt with it in the only way we knew how. We took a nap. Once awake, we plotted out our evening and proceeded to go with my brother to his and his wife's favorite watering hole, The Star of Bethnal Green.
The Star of Bethnal Green.
After a couple of rounds of ales and chips (fries, you non-British mooks), we headed back to complete our first foray into the Old World. A few things struck me as we lounged in the room dripping with wood and brass and history. For one, as much as I love Chicago because it is one of the few places in the U.S. that can claim 'history' as one of it's charms, I walked past a pub that had the date '1666' on it. I can no longer see faded daguerreotypes of people holding up glass mugs of beer in zoot suits without thinking that time period, once ancient to me, is actually more 'modern history' to the images conjured in the halls of some of London's more seasoned pubs. Seriously. People have been drinking at some of these places for nearly half a millennium. What. The hell.
The next morning, after coffee and crumpets (hell yes, those crumpets), Vicky and I went on our first of what promises to be many walks through the city. Traveling along the areas surrounding Bethnal Green Ave, Brick Ln, Whitechapel Rd, and Shoreditch High St on our way to the London Tower and the Tower Bridge was an absolutely special memory to create.
Vicky poses in an alleyway near Allen Park.
Once across the Tower Bridge, we took in the majesty of the Thames River from it's bank and marveled at the audacity of the fact that there has been a major civilized population there for nearly 2,000 years (even before Betty White was born).
What.
Despite being floored by a wave of awesome, Vicky had the wherewithal to take a quick sketch of the bridge from her point of view.
Seriously. You artist types...
After heading back towards Bethnal Green, we nipped into an area called Box Park in Shoreditch. We met a local, drank a local and played a few games of the UK's most famous sport... Ping Pong. All in all, an amazing first day and a half here, across the pond.
As we sat and decompressed after our 7 mile walkabout around just parts of Central London, I kept coming back to the same thoughts, not only am I making a once-in-a-lifetime trip come true (again), but I'm doing so with the most wonderful woman, the most wonderful person I have ever met. The person who was kind enough to call me 'husband.' My wife. All the history and all the Ping Pong and all the beer in the world will never make me lose sight of the fact that while traveling is an amazing adventure in and of itself, it pales in comparison to the adventure of creating memories with someone you love and who loves you enough in return to make you a better person along the way...
See you in the next adventure...
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