![]() London was wonderful, but it was nice to come home.I had one boyfriend in high school. Then he said, “For everyone else, welcome home.” These words stood out to me as I realized what Barcelona has become to me. The plane landed and the pilot welcomed newcomers. I was a little sad to leave, especially because I had a Spanish midterm awaiting me only eight hours after departure, but I managed to “keep calm and carry on.” It was hard to be disappointed when I saw the recognizable Barceloneta beach creep into my window on the plane. There is so much I didn’t see, but this only gives me a reason to return some day in the future. In the two days we were there, I didn’t get to see a play or visit any museums, but I’d still say I accomplished a lot: Trafalgar Square, the chic and cheap Camden Market, Platform 9 3/4 and all the aforementioned sites. Unfortunately, the city is extremely expensive and there are IES classes on Fridays, so our time and money was limited in such a vast city. We met a local ex-pat wannabe who gave us tons of tips and recommendations of activities we weren´t able to do. On our last night, we stopped by another pub for a final hurrah. I was fortunate enough to see a friend studying there, and he took us to a typical English pub where I saw more of these amiable interactions take place. They’re not afraid to strike up a conversation with a stranger, and they’ll go out of their way to help you with a favor. They are friendly, cheery and genuine, always smiling and laughing. I loved the city’s metamorphosis at night, landmarks lit by colorful lights under the cheshire cat’s grin in the night sky.īut more than anything else, I loved the people. I loved the timing of my trip, coincidentally being there during London’s Fashion Week and having sunshine peering in through the clouds. I loved the scent of spices hovering over Covent Garden, a subsection that contains Indian restaurants, Broadway theaters and Drury Lane where the Muffin Man is rumored to live. If you’ve ever watched “Futurama,” this guy was the real-life Hermes. I even witnessed an insane limbo feat in Piccadilly Circus that conquered a stick balanced on two liter Coca Cola bottles. I was delighted by the diversity of the street performances ranging from old school rock ‘n’ roll, a beatboxer creating dubstep (an alternative type of music that originated in England) and a contemporary violinist. Unlike Barcelona, it is normal to order tap water in a restaurant and free to do so. ![]() After more than a month in Barcelona, we had been so used to hearing solely Spanish and Catalan that we accidentally said “sí” and “gracias” when speaking with local Londoners.īeing fluent in the language wasn’t the only thing I loved about this city. ![]() My northerner friends made fun of my amusement of seeing my own breath in the cold (I’m a Florida girl so that was a big deal for me), but all three of us were wildly entertained by the British accents around us – especially the ones belonging to precious children! Also, it was refreshing to be surrounded by people speaking our native language. When I at last stepped outside, I was giddy like a school girl, anxious for my two-day adventure to begin. Big Ben, the London Eye, Houses of Parliament and Westminster Abbey made unexpected side-by-side appearances as we finally approached our destination. Within seconds, views of this simplistic architecture transformed into more historic buildings I had only ever seen in my school textbooks. Houses with perfectly square windows and geometric structures were stacked and connected to each other with V-shaped rooftops and quaint reader nooks. I pressed my nose up to the window observing the stained cement, colorblock-style paint and faded brick homes with dusty roofs and aged chimneys. Glimpses of Underground signs, double-decker buses and flags boasting the Union Jack whizzed past my periphery. Everything I had seen and heard about the UK in movies and books was right before my eyes. On the bus ride into London from the airport, I got into the mood by listening to dozens of great Beatles hits, daydreaming about casually bumping into Rupert Grint and compiling a list of quintessential British food I wanted to eat during my stay. I thought about how my mother always used to tell me about her travels in her 20s I realized history is repeating itself, and now it’s my turn. This past weekend I traveled outside of northern Spain for the first time to the “New York City of Europe.” As my plane glided through cotton field skies over connected pastures of lush green and brown, I couldn’t have been more excited. ![]()
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