As I sit here in bed in Adelaide with the virus from hell, eating throat lozenges like I would candy and once again listening to "No Doubt" (and not just their new stuff-I'm a fan from way back) I come to my second last blog post *tears up*. I only realise just how big of a journey it really was when I go back through this blog and actually look at how many miles I've covered and how much I've changed. England was my final destination; my "piece de resistance" to top off my trip, if you will. I had friends to meet and have final catch-ups with, places to see, dancing to be done and drinks to down way too quickly. So without further ado, I give you my last blog, beginning as any story should, at the start, with "My day in Durham", with my good friend Eliza.
As I disembarked my train after a relatively smooth ride into Durham, I was greeted by Eliza and the sight of one of the prettiest and quaintest places I had yet seen. I don't normally describe something as quaint, but that is exactly the word for Durham. With a stunning Cathedral, Castle and Chorister School, set against a back-drop of charming English trees (I can actually call them that in England-HAH), Diagon-Alley esque cobblestone streets and graduating university class (some serious fur-lined academic robes going on there) it looked a bit like a fairy-tale town. After our quick "OMG haven't seen you in AGES" catch-up *laughs* we headed down to the main street area and continued on to the Chorister School to drop my bags in Eliza's room so Eliza could play tour-guide and show me around her home-town.
We started out with a quick tour of the school, after which we moved on to the Cathedral. When I say the town is Harry Potter-esque, I mean it; some scenes of the film were actually shot on location in Durham, and so top of my list of "things to see in Durham" was the Cloisters and McGonagall's classroom. I am a bit of Harry Potter fan, so I couldn't help but be transported back into a snowy-winter as I looked over the cloisters and imagined Harry letting Hedwig fly, or for a slightly different memory, Ron throwing up slugs. We then passed McGonagall's classroom, which for the time being was being used as a graduation photo studio. Needless to say the magic wasn't quite as strong with that one *awkward face*.
We made our way through to the cathedral, at that point full of Durham University's graduating class and parents so I couldn't take a really good look at the inside, but believe me when I say it was absolutely stunning. As a "Cathedral Connoisseur" I have seen a few in my travels, but this was truly stunning. Each marbled column inside is carved with a different pattern, the stained glass catches every ray of light and the pews are beautifully made.
After our walk through of the Cathedral, we made our way through the throngs of graduating students and their families, me wistfully looking at their fur-lined robes wishing my university had something even slightly as amazing down into the town. Once again, as it was the last time we met, we decided that shopping would allow us to see some of the best of the town rather quickly, as it was set around the main old town centre district. Eliza was still looking for jeans (after our two past shopping trips looking for jeans), and I was up for anything really, finding a cute-as-a-button red tartan dress that screamed "London" at me (in a completely non-stereotypical London way) and life was good.
After a quick lunch we continued on our walking tour of Durham, wandering down past the river and over the picturesque bridges before finding our way into a small, cosy coffeehouse hidden under a bridge (Durham kept turning up gems, what can I say?) for an afternoon break, before we made our way back around the town to the Chorister School, to put our shopping down and decide on where to get dinner.
We ended up getting some brilliant Thai food, after which we had a quick cocktail (last drinks with Eliza for some time!) before grabbing my pack once again and heading to the train station. That night I was to catch a train to Manchester; from there I would take a bus down to London the next morning. I arrived in Manchester late, however had good directions and the hostel wasn't far away, and as such I was settled nicely in my room just after midnight.
The next morning I awoke and after a quick breakfast made my way to the bus station. I had prepared myself for a few hours on the bus, but couldn't predict what would happen next. As the bus pulled off the A1 coming into London, it suddenly pulled over to the side of the road and stopped. A minute later, I saw a Sainsbury's "Wagon" (a truck, for those of us in Australia) pull up beside us, and in two seconds took off the wing mirror, bent in both the cargo hold door and the passenger door. Cue: Road Rage. The two drivers showed an amazingly a high level of unprofessionalism; calling each other drunk drivers, swearing like it was nobodies business (how many profane four letter words can you fit in a sentence and have it still make sense?I lost count at "lots".) and almost coming to blows a number of times. After a small while, the bus driver managed to hail the other bus that was travelling in our "convoy" (not really, they had slightly different routes but it's close enough) and we quickly grabbed our luggage and moved onto the other bus.
An hour or so late I arrived at the Victoria Street Coach Station, tired and later than I would've liked, but alive and well and happy to be in a city where I could put my bags down and not have to pick them up again for a few days at least. I once again had good directions and, thanks to my Lonely Planet had a nice map of London and surrounds and so made my way into the labyrinth that is the London Underground.
Half and hour later I was walking down the street of a slightly more alternative district of London towards my first accommodation, the Phoenix Hostel. I felt welcome from the start, and would've been happy to spend the rest of my time staying there in London, however their water radiator had exploded and consequently they had no hot showers.
ISSUE.
Now, I like my hot showers-ESPECIALLY in Europe, where the weather tends to be...cold? At the best of times. Maybe an understatement for a summer-loving Aussie like myself. On the day I arrived in London it was a clear, almost warm 24 degrees. According to the wonderful man working behind the bar/desk of the hostel, it was hot enough to "take a cold shower". Mate, I'm from Australia. You won't even get me in shorts for 24 degrees.
For the rest of the day, I planned and plotted, drawing on my map a'la "Joey" from friends ("It's LONDON baby!!!") and working out what I would do for the rest of the six or so days I was there.
In the evening I went out for a short walk, finding myself a Tesco and eating dinner in Regent's Park whilst trying not to get hit on by a weird older French man, before heading back to the hostel for an early night.
The next morning I awoke and after a short breakfast packed my handbag and set off. I had planned to get to most of the disgustingly touristy sights including Buckingham Palace, Big Ben, The Tower of London and London Bridge.
First on my list was Trafalgar Square. After a short metro ride I emerged into the bright-ish grey sky at Piccadilly Station, making my way down the road to Trafalgar Square. After my photo stop at the Square, I consulted my map and turned in the direction of Horse Guards Parade and Buckingham Palace, passing the high security surrounding 10 Downing Street and continuing on.
After a short walk I arrived at Big Ben and the Parliamentary Buildings. Surrounded by Tourists (and gagging at the sight of so many high quality Nikon DSLR cameras) I made my way over the road to Westminster Abbey and Cathedral, and then around to Buckingham Palace. Once again surrounded by tourists, I took my photos and then walked back towards the Parliamentary buildings to cross the Thames.
After taking my photos and trying to catch a glimpse of any movement inside the Palace (the Royal Standard was flying, so apparently the Queen was home) I made my way back to the Parliament Buildings and walked across the Thames to Southbank. From here, I walked the entire length o the Thames, down past the Modern Art Museum and a VERY good busker playing all sorts of mash-ups on the piano whilst singing, for some reason shirtless (hey, I wasn't complaining) and then down past London Bridge onto the Tower Bridge. I took in the Tower of London and the surrounding areas, before eating a very late lunch overlooking a glorious view of the Thames.
After my late lunch I continued walking. I was catching up with John (who still speaks fluent French) for a drink that evening, and decided to kill time by wandering down Oxford Street and taking in the chaos that was sale season. "Relaxed" is not a phrase that relates to Oxford Street in any way, shape or form. Needless to say I found refuge with a much needed coffee in Starbucks until the evening when I caught the Tube up to Baker Street to meet John. After a beer, he headed off to a family dinner, and taking advantage of the relatively nice weather (it wasn't raining! *laughs*) I once again went and had a picnic lunch in Regent's Park.
The next day was a charming Saturday morning, and I felt there was no better way to spend it than at the markets.. I have a bit of a thing for vintage and eclectic markets, and so found my way up to Camden Lock, which would come to be one of my favourite places in London.
To get there however, I took the scenic route. I decided that I wanted to walk, and on the map this shouldn't have taken as long as it did. However, following the advice of my lovely friend at the Phoenix I walked around the outside of Regent's Park, past Lord's Cricket Ground and then into the back streets of Camden.
I spent hours wandering through the markets, marvelling at all manner of vintage jewellery and clothes, channelling my inner "indie kid" and indulging in tea and scones when I needed a break. As much as I saw things the I would've loved to buy (and so many things there were!), I was very reserved, only splashing out on a beautiful silver and pearl ring. I do love my jewellery.
Moving on.
After my entire day spent wandering through Camden, I made my way back through Regent's Park, arriving back at the Phoenix Hostel just in time to grab my bags and move to my next lot of accommodation, the Steam Engine Pub.
I had decided to move accommodation not because I really wanted to (the Phoenix hostel staff were awesome!), or because it was any cheaper (it's a dorm room above a pub-they're all roughly the same), but I desperately needed a hot shower if I was to get through the next three nights and get onto my flight home. There are just some things you need.
My new hostel was on the other side of the Thames near to Waterloo station, and as I rocked up I was greeted by (my idea of) a stereotypical English pub; deciduous tress, red awnings and a big specials board with Karaoke and pints on a Saturday night. I felt as if I'd really hit London.
I walked upstairs to my room and as I opened the door, was greeted by a familiar sight. As my eyes adjusted to the semi-darkness, I realised that actually knew the girl sitting on the bed diagonally across from me, as she had been on the same Paddy Wagon Tour of Northern Ireland. We had a bit of a catch-up and then decided that the next day we would go to the Brick Lane Markets.
The Brick Lane Markets were slightly different to Camden Lock Markets in that it attracts a wider diversity of people; more of an indie crowd and slightly older, and local rather than tourist, and this really showed as soon as you got to the food hall. Hundreds of different stalls selling everything from falafels to hand made sushi to fresh fruit smoothies to gourmet cupcakes. The range was astounding and I could've had all three meals there if I wasn't so conscious of the calorie intake.
After a good few hours wandering the markets, Carrie and I left and made our way to the Tower Bridge and the Tower of London, a Carrie hadn't seen the two sights yet. However, as we reached the Bridge, being London, it started raining, and as neither of us had proper rain gear, we decided after a little while to go back to the Hostel early and then so something for dinner later.
The next day I decided to take it a bit easy. It was Monday, my third to last day in Europe (I had to cross check that fact with my photos-dates on holiday are not something I tend to remember *giggles*) and and I decided to take it easy. I was meeting up with Sam and Fabrice from the Salsa crew in Valencia that night, and I had already seen the touristy sights, so after an easy morning I went down to Trafalgar Square for lunch, stopping in Leicester Square and taking in the M&Ms store (I didn't go in-some gates don't need to be opened) and the many theatres that the square itself is famous for. That night I was off to Salsa with Sam and Fabrice from Valencia, so it was looking like quite a good beginning to my last few days.
I don't normally make such an issue of "the beginning of the last", but whilst I was travelling-and especially in London, I found it difficult not to look around and think "In a few days time I will be back home".
The next day I had no plans, so after a quick chat to Carrie in the morning, and meeting some other Australian guys, we decided to hang with them for the day and next night.
The boys were going to Camden, and although Carrie and I had already visited the markets, we tagged along, grateful to get out of the hostel and into the lovely London weather. After discovering the best chocolate and banana crepes (a delicious, guilt treat) whilst the guys explored a rave and disco shop (think fluro, trance and punk) we headed down the street to a shopping centre, as the boys were buying camping gear. Losing interest, Carrie and I bailed out to a bakery down the road buying baklava and a cupcake for Joel's birthday. We spent the next little while in a pub, before the boys went to beer tasting and Carrie, Pierre and I went back to our respective hostels (Carrie had moved the day before) and started packing.
We met again later that night; the boys had gotten back from beer tasting and we were having drinks in the hostel bar around 7. The plans were to have a big "Last night in London" whilst celebrating the big half century-Joel's 25th on the 3rd and Jared's on the 4th. Midnight was going to be a cracker. However, we didn't know if we were going on the Camden pub Crawl or not.
It turned into serious drinks in the bar as we were joined by a new Canadian friend Leora and traded jokes over cocktails and pizza (London was only slightly diet destroying) before heading to Soho.
We ended up in a packed downtown bar/club, and spent the next few hours dancing, discovering that they did free double shots in our drinks and taking photos on stripper poles (NOT me...) before heading back to the hostel. Our night was far from over however as the shenanigans continued not only on the bus home but when we arrived back in the hostel, and we fell into bed after 4am, finally feeling drunkenly content and ready to leave London the next night.
And so it began, our last day in London. After waking and eating breakfast, I returned upstairs to pack. The guys were all leaving as well, and so the hostel was bustling as people went in their own directions. I met up with Carrie at about 11 and we decided to go for one last trip around London, before we headed over to Elephant Walk to shop for food for the rest of the day. After walking back to the hostel from the tube station, we ended up sitting and chilling in the hostel bar until around 5, when we picked up our packs and made our way to the tube to then change lines and head over the Heathrow. We had thought a little about the time that we would catch the tube, but in the end it didn't matter if we left early or later, we were going to hit peak traffic. After letting two trains pass us we elbowed our way on the third and promptly met an Australian family who were on the same flight as us later on.
In a lovely and unexpected surprise, checking in and dropping our bags at Heathrow was a breeze, and after we went through Customs Carrie and I split up for a while to browse Duty Free, meeting up once again after our gate was called. I was a bit excited as we were on an A380-800 (don't ask) however still found the experience bittersweet.
Shortly after 10pm we took off, and after 5&1/2 months overseas, I was finally on my way home. Needless to say I won't detail the entire TWENTY FOUR HOURS of flight time that I went through to get back to Melbourne, however the flight went well and I was soon touching down first in Singapore and then in Melbourne, to only then catch my final flight back to Adelaide on which I met two lovely businessmen who made the final flight much more pleasant.
I would like to say that there were jubilant scenes as I exited the gate, however as the plane had landed earlier than expected my family (depleted as my youngest sister hadn't yet returned from Cambodia) weren't actually there yet, and as such our reunion happened halfway down the airport terminal as I had just started walking towards the exit rather than wait around at the gate. It was so nice to be back home, and I did feel rather content as I grabbed my bags and made my way with my family to the car (such luxury to be able to drive again! *laughs*).
Well, this should be my last blog. I say "should", because now that it has taken me a FULL MONTH (mega apologies for the slackness) to finish this one, I am tempted to write another, reflecting on my time since I've been home. I admit that I thought it would be difficult to keep a blog whilst I travelled, having failed every time I tried to keep a diary in my life, however now I have to admit that I'm going to miss it. We'll see (I'm smiling goof-ily at my laptop right now *giggles*).
Until next time, whenever that may be,
Love LOVE!
Clem xx
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| Durham |
As I disembarked my train after a relatively smooth ride into Durham, I was greeted by Eliza and the sight of one of the prettiest and quaintest places I had yet seen. I don't normally describe something as quaint, but that is exactly the word for Durham. With a stunning Cathedral, Castle and Chorister School, set against a back-drop of charming English trees (I can actually call them that in England-HAH), Diagon-Alley esque cobblestone streets and graduating university class (some serious fur-lined academic robes going on there) it looked a bit like a fairy-tale town. After our quick "OMG haven't seen you in AGES" catch-up *laughs* we headed down to the main street area and continued on to the Chorister School to drop my bags in Eliza's room so Eliza could play tour-guide and show me around her home-town.
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| Walking through Durham |
We started out with a quick tour of the school, after which we moved on to the Cathedral. When I say the town is Harry Potter-esque, I mean it; some scenes of the film were actually shot on location in Durham, and so top of my list of "things to see in Durham" was the Cloisters and McGonagall's classroom. I am a bit of Harry Potter fan, so I couldn't help but be transported back into a snowy-winter as I looked over the cloisters and imagined Harry letting Hedwig fly, or for a slightly different memory, Ron throwing up slugs. We then passed McGonagall's classroom, which for the time being was being used as a graduation photo studio. Needless to say the magic wasn't quite as strong with that one *awkward face*.
We made our way through to the cathedral, at that point full of Durham University's graduating class and parents so I couldn't take a really good look at the inside, but believe me when I say it was absolutely stunning. As a "Cathedral Connoisseur" I have seen a few in my travels, but this was truly stunning. Each marbled column inside is carved with a different pattern, the stained glass catches every ray of light and the pews are beautifully made.
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| Just an ordinary day in Durham |
After our walk through of the Cathedral, we made our way through the throngs of graduating students and their families, me wistfully looking at their fur-lined robes wishing my university had something even slightly as amazing down into the town. Once again, as it was the last time we met, we decided that shopping would allow us to see some of the best of the town rather quickly, as it was set around the main old town centre district. Eliza was still looking for jeans (after our two past shopping trips looking for jeans), and I was up for anything really, finding a cute-as-a-button red tartan dress that screamed "London" at me (in a completely non-stereotypical London way) and life was good.
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| Just a bit picturesque |
After a quick lunch we continued on our walking tour of Durham, wandering down past the river and over the picturesque bridges before finding our way into a small, cosy coffeehouse hidden under a bridge (Durham kept turning up gems, what can I say?) for an afternoon break, before we made our way back around the town to the Chorister School, to put our shopping down and decide on where to get dinner.
We ended up getting some brilliant Thai food, after which we had a quick cocktail (last drinks with Eliza for some time!) before grabbing my pack once again and heading to the train station. That night I was to catch a train to Manchester; from there I would take a bus down to London the next morning. I arrived in Manchester late, however had good directions and the hostel wasn't far away, and as such I was settled nicely in my room just after midnight.
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| HARRY POTTER HALLWAYS!!!! |
The next morning I awoke and after a quick breakfast made my way to the bus station. I had prepared myself for a few hours on the bus, but couldn't predict what would happen next. As the bus pulled off the A1 coming into London, it suddenly pulled over to the side of the road and stopped. A minute later, I saw a Sainsbury's "Wagon" (a truck, for those of us in Australia) pull up beside us, and in two seconds took off the wing mirror, bent in both the cargo hold door and the passenger door. Cue: Road Rage. The two drivers showed an amazingly a high level of unprofessionalism; calling each other drunk drivers, swearing like it was nobodies business (how many profane four letter words can you fit in a sentence and have it still make sense?I lost count at "lots".) and almost coming to blows a number of times. After a small while, the bus driver managed to hail the other bus that was travelling in our "convoy" (not really, they had slightly different routes but it's close enough) and we quickly grabbed our luggage and moved onto the other bus.
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| The view from dinner-Regent's Park |
An hour or so late I arrived at the Victoria Street Coach Station, tired and later than I would've liked, but alive and well and happy to be in a city where I could put my bags down and not have to pick them up again for a few days at least. I once again had good directions and, thanks to my Lonely Planet had a nice map of London and surrounds and so made my way into the labyrinth that is the London Underground.
Half and hour later I was walking down the street of a slightly more alternative district of London towards my first accommodation, the Phoenix Hostel. I felt welcome from the start, and would've been happy to spend the rest of my time staying there in London, however their water radiator had exploded and consequently they had no hot showers.
ISSUE.
Now, I like my hot showers-ESPECIALLY in Europe, where the weather tends to be...cold? At the best of times. Maybe an understatement for a summer-loving Aussie like myself. On the day I arrived in London it was a clear, almost warm 24 degrees. According to the wonderful man working behind the bar/desk of the hostel, it was hot enough to "take a cold shower". Mate, I'm from Australia. You won't even get me in shorts for 24 degrees.
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| Trafalgar Square! |
For the rest of the day, I planned and plotted, drawing on my map a'la "Joey" from friends ("It's LONDON baby!!!") and working out what I would do for the rest of the six or so days I was there.
In the evening I went out for a short walk, finding myself a Tesco and eating dinner in Regent's Park whilst trying not to get hit on by a weird older French man, before heading back to the hostel for an early night.
The next morning I awoke and after a short breakfast packed my handbag and set off. I had planned to get to most of the disgustingly touristy sights including Buckingham Palace, Big Ben, The Tower of London and London Bridge.
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| Olympic fever |
First on my list was Trafalgar Square. After a short metro ride I emerged into the bright-ish grey sky at Piccadilly Station, making my way down the road to Trafalgar Square. After my photo stop at the Square, I consulted my map and turned in the direction of Horse Guards Parade and Buckingham Palace, passing the high security surrounding 10 Downing Street and continuing on.
After a short walk I arrived at Big Ben and the Parliamentary Buildings. Surrounded by Tourists (and gagging at the sight of so many high quality Nikon DSLR cameras) I made my way over the road to Westminster Abbey and Cathedral, and then around to Buckingham Palace. Once again surrounded by tourists, I took my photos and then walked back towards the Parliamentary buildings to cross the Thames.
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| One for the art lovers |
After taking my photos and trying to catch a glimpse of any movement inside the Palace (the Royal Standard was flying, so apparently the Queen was home) I made my way back to the Parliament Buildings and walked across the Thames to Southbank. From here, I walked the entire length o the Thames, down past the Modern Art Museum and a VERY good busker playing all sorts of mash-ups on the piano whilst singing, for some reason shirtless (hey, I wasn't complaining) and then down past London Bridge onto the Tower Bridge. I took in the Tower of London and the surrounding areas, before eating a very late lunch overlooking a glorious view of the Thames.
After my late lunch I continued walking. I was catching up with John (who still speaks fluent French) for a drink that evening, and decided to kill time by wandering down Oxford Street and taking in the chaos that was sale season. "Relaxed" is not a phrase that relates to Oxford Street in any way, shape or form. Needless to say I found refuge with a much needed coffee in Starbucks until the evening when I caught the Tube up to Baker Street to meet John. After a beer, he headed off to a family dinner, and taking advantage of the relatively nice weather (it wasn't raining! *laughs*) I once again went and had a picnic lunch in Regent's Park.
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| Westminster Abbey |
The next day was a charming Saturday morning, and I felt there was no better way to spend it than at the markets.. I have a bit of a thing for vintage and eclectic markets, and so found my way up to Camden Lock, which would come to be one of my favourite places in London.
To get there however, I took the scenic route. I decided that I wanted to walk, and on the map this shouldn't have taken as long as it did. However, following the advice of my lovely friend at the Phoenix I walked around the outside of Regent's Park, past Lord's Cricket Ground and then into the back streets of Camden.
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| Buckingham Palace |
I spent hours wandering through the markets, marvelling at all manner of vintage jewellery and clothes, channelling my inner "indie kid" and indulging in tea and scones when I needed a break. As much as I saw things the I would've loved to buy (and so many things there were!), I was very reserved, only splashing out on a beautiful silver and pearl ring. I do love my jewellery.
Moving on.
After my entire day spent wandering through Camden, I made my way back through Regent's Park, arriving back at the Phoenix Hostel just in time to grab my bags and move to my next lot of accommodation, the Steam Engine Pub.
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| The Eye |
I had decided to move accommodation not because I really wanted to (the Phoenix hostel staff were awesome!), or because it was any cheaper (it's a dorm room above a pub-they're all roughly the same), but I desperately needed a hot shower if I was to get through the next three nights and get onto my flight home. There are just some things you need.
My new hostel was on the other side of the Thames near to Waterloo station, and as I rocked up I was greeted by (my idea of) a stereotypical English pub; deciduous tress, red awnings and a big specials board with Karaoke and pints on a Saturday night. I felt as if I'd really hit London.
I walked upstairs to my room and as I opened the door, was greeted by a familiar sight. As my eyes adjusted to the semi-darkness, I realised that actually knew the girl sitting on the bed diagonally across from me, as she had been on the same Paddy Wagon Tour of Northern Ireland. We had a bit of a catch-up and then decided that the next day we would go to the Brick Lane Markets.
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| More Olympic fever on the Tower Bridge |
The Brick Lane Markets were slightly different to Camden Lock Markets in that it attracts a wider diversity of people; more of an indie crowd and slightly older, and local rather than tourist, and this really showed as soon as you got to the food hall. Hundreds of different stalls selling everything from falafels to hand made sushi to fresh fruit smoothies to gourmet cupcakes. The range was astounding and I could've had all three meals there if I wasn't so conscious of the calorie intake.
After a good few hours wandering the markets, Carrie and I left and made our way to the Tower Bridge and the Tower of London, a Carrie hadn't seen the two sights yet. However, as we reached the Bridge, being London, it started raining, and as neither of us had proper rain gear, we decided after a little while to go back to the Hostel early and then so something for dinner later.
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| The Globe |
I don't normally make such an issue of "the beginning of the last", but whilst I was travelling-and especially in London, I found it difficult not to look around and think "In a few days time I will be back home".
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| Tower Bridge |
The next day I had no plans, so after a quick chat to Carrie in the morning, and meeting some other Australian guys, we decided to hang with them for the day and next night.
The boys were going to Camden, and although Carrie and I had already visited the markets, we tagged along, grateful to get out of the hostel and into the lovely London weather. After discovering the best chocolate and banana crepes (a delicious, guilt treat) whilst the guys explored a rave and disco shop (think fluro, trance and punk) we headed down the street to a shopping centre, as the boys were buying camping gear. Losing interest, Carrie and I bailed out to a bakery down the road buying baklava and a cupcake for Joel's birthday. We spent the next little while in a pub, before the boys went to beer tasting and Carrie, Pierre and I went back to our respective hostels (Carrie had moved the day before) and started packing.
We met again later that night; the boys had gotten back from beer tasting and we were having drinks in the hostel bar around 7. The plans were to have a big "Last night in London" whilst celebrating the big half century-Joel's 25th on the 3rd and Jared's on the 4th. Midnight was going to be a cracker. However, we didn't know if we were going on the Camden pub Crawl or not.
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| Tower of London-Side View |
It turned into serious drinks in the bar as we were joined by a new Canadian friend Leora and traded jokes over cocktails and pizza (London was only slightly diet destroying) before heading to Soho.
We ended up in a packed downtown bar/club, and spent the next few hours dancing, discovering that they did free double shots in our drinks and taking photos on stripper poles (NOT me...) before heading back to the hostel. Our night was far from over however as the shenanigans continued not only on the bus home but when we arrived back in the hostel, and we fell into bed after 4am, finally feeling drunkenly content and ready to leave London the next night.
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| It says "Brick Lane" I swear... |
And so it began, our last day in London. After waking and eating breakfast, I returned upstairs to pack. The guys were all leaving as well, and so the hostel was bustling as people went in their own directions. I met up with Carrie at about 11 and we decided to go for one last trip around London, before we headed over to Elephant Walk to shop for food for the rest of the day. After walking back to the hostel from the tube station, we ended up sitting and chilling in the hostel bar until around 5, when we picked up our packs and made our way to the tube to then change lines and head over the Heathrow. We had thought a little about the time that we would catch the tube, but in the end it didn't matter if we left early or later, we were going to hit peak traffic. After letting two trains pass us we elbowed our way on the third and promptly met an Australian family who were on the same flight as us later on.
In a lovely and unexpected surprise, checking in and dropping our bags at Heathrow was a breeze, and after we went through Customs Carrie and I split up for a while to browse Duty Free, meeting up once again after our gate was called. I was a bit excited as we were on an A380-800 (don't ask) however still found the experience bittersweet.
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| Just for good measure... |
Shortly after 10pm we took off, and after 5&1/2 months overseas, I was finally on my way home. Needless to say I won't detail the entire TWENTY FOUR HOURS of flight time that I went through to get back to Melbourne, however the flight went well and I was soon touching down first in Singapore and then in Melbourne, to only then catch my final flight back to Adelaide on which I met two lovely businessmen who made the final flight much more pleasant.
I would like to say that there were jubilant scenes as I exited the gate, however as the plane had landed earlier than expected my family (depleted as my youngest sister hadn't yet returned from Cambodia) weren't actually there yet, and as such our reunion happened halfway down the airport terminal as I had just started walking towards the exit rather than wait around at the gate. It was so nice to be back home, and I did feel rather content as I grabbed my bags and made my way with my family to the car (such luxury to be able to drive again! *laughs*).
Well, this should be my last blog. I say "should", because now that it has taken me a FULL MONTH (mega apologies for the slackness) to finish this one, I am tempted to write another, reflecting on my time since I've been home. I admit that I thought it would be difficult to keep a blog whilst I travelled, having failed every time I tried to keep a diary in my life, however now I have to admit that I'm going to miss it. We'll see (I'm smiling goof-ily at my laptop right now *giggles*).
Until next time, whenever that may be,
Love LOVE!
Clem xx
