Under the London Eye

Day three / four: Europe or Bust

A thousand apologies for not updating yesterday. It was a crazy, and yet tiring and sort of boring day. Basically, we woke up early, rode to the airport and at 11:00 a.m we got on our plane (which was massive, by the way). Then for the next seven hours we flew and ate and flew and ate and ate and flew and flew and ate until we finally arrived in London at 11:00 p.m. Weird, I know, but that's just how things work…

I guess when I stepped off the plane I expected Sherlock Holmes to be waiting by the baggage claim with a “welcome home” sign. Or maybe I thought Mr. Darcy would be standing outside with a carriage ready to take us to our hotel. But the London airport looked just like any other airport. Just a little bigger. That is, until we met our rental car. It was a beautiful, black mercedes with a backing camera and intuitive side mirrors and the steering wheel on the WRONG SIDE! Needless to say, it was a terrifying drive to our hotel with dad trying to get the hang of not only driving on the wrong side of the car, but driving on the wrong side of the road! We reached our hotel at around 12:30 in the morning (around 7:30 p.m. North Carolinian time) and were greeted by a surprisingly chipper and slightly sleep deprived front desk agent. He was thrilled when he saw that one of our rooms was reserved under the name Arwen. He announced to us that if he ever had a son, that son would be named Thorin Oakenshield. We all agreed that this would be epic.

This morning, after a refreshing three hours of sleep, we aroused and ate a hearty breakfast in the hotel lobby. And when I say hearty, I do not exaggerate. We had pancakes, toast, croissants, muffins, cereal, bacon, eggs, hash browns, bubble and squeak, fruit salad, black pudding, milk, orange juice, coffee and, of course, lots and lots of tea. Maybe Americans know how to eat, but the British know how to eat. And eat. And eat.

After breakfast, we hit the road and I pretty much slept all the way to Windsor Castle - the Queen’s weekend home. I can’t even imagine living in such a magnificent place. It was exactly as a castle should be - massive, sophisticated, royal, gorgeous, full of history and very well guarded.

There was much debate afterwards as to what was the best part - Morgen’s favorite was the Queen’s dollhouse (the largest dollhouse in the world); Arwen was captivated by the weapon’s chamber; Mom and Dad greatly enjoyed the chapel; I was in love with the climbing wisteria vines. All in all, the whole thing was wonderful.

After we were done exploring Windsor Castle and the surrounding village, we got back in our car and made our way towards the London flat we would be staying in until Sunday. It took a long time to find it and we were all thoroughly traumatized by packed alleyways wide as a toothpick, but when we got there it was all worth it. Small as it was, I was pretty sure I wanted to live there for the rest of my life.

Unfortunately, our moment of relaxation was short lived and within an hour we were on our way to the tube to Waterloo. There we spent the afternoon perusing the British Museum, seeing the originals of famous artifacts such as the Rosetta Stone and The Thinker and many, many more.

After a day so full of walking and absorbing culture and history, we were all famished. We found a little food festival going on in the streets beneath the London Eye and ate a delicious meal of hamburgers, BBQ (though not BBQ like we have in the states) and Chicken-on-a-stick. To finish off our day, we walked beneath the London eye and saw the sun go down on Parliament and Big Ben. Then we rode the double-decker bus back to our flat.

All in all, it was an amazing day, though I found that, while I can hike for days in the mountains, a couple hours of walking across cement just about puts me in the grave. I’m definitely not a city girl…

- Lorien