Stranger in a strange land.

 Let’s get serious folks. (Dramatic pause) 

Adjusting to all this tomfoolery(!) I’ve got myself into hasn’t been easy. Just getting here was, shall we say, challenging..

Then living in someone else’s place with someone’s else’s stuff is just weird. Especially for a whole month. It’s not my place, not my stuff and that kind throws you off. It’s not like being in a hotel. 

So the refrigerator has stuff (food) in it. One of the cupboards has stuff in it. Are you supposed to use that? Who knows? I’m not using it because there’s nothing I want to use.  Plus it feels weird to use it. (Lots of weirdness going on on my part)

We are living in a five condo building. We hear and see the other peoples lives. There is a little baby in one unit we hear crying. There are kids in a couple places. They play outside.

We have turned our lives upside down in every way you can. Left our home. Left our stuff. Left our neighborhood and city(and country).  Left our family and friends. 

We fit what would be a years worth of our lives into a carryon suitcase and a backpack. What did I pack? Mostly clothes of course. Short sleeve shirts, long sleeve shirts, shorts, jeans, sweatpants, undies. It will be in the forties some places we go. I brought a Jean jacket. Figure I can layer. Three pairs of shoes. Meds, small amount of toiletries, tablet, phone, chargers. That’s about it.

Passports, vaccination cards, credit cards (2). In my research I found out that schwab checking/debit card (I’m sure there are others) is the best one for me. No foreign transaction fees of any kind.  

Bought international health care insurance. None of my Medicare/VA/supplement works here. I will have to refill meds here. Haven’t had to figure that out yet. I did bring letter from doctor. 

Getting back to the mental, emotional part. I thought this would be similar to U.S., English speaking, similar culture, etc. It’s not. People here are different. They are stoic, polite, neat, they don’t do much laughing and cavorting in public. Nobody is showy. People don’t wear bright colors. 

We have found if you say hello to a stranger walking down the street, they won’t say hello back. However, it is easy to strike up a conversation with people.

Perhaps it is my naive observation but people here don’t seem to fear each other like the U.S. They definitely have a problem with stabbings here. It pales in comparison to the U.S. violence, shootings. There is no mass violence. 

There are so many different cultures here. It feels like more people here speak another language than English. It’s weird to hear all these different languages. It’s fun though. 

We’ve had to figure out an elaborate public transport system with underground, overground, trains, buses. We bought a monthly card. Really expensive. We’ve managed it pretty well because it’s pretty easy to understand. 

Changing tube lines can be easy or elaborate. Sometimes the next tube you want is close. Sometimes in the bigger stations with more lines you are going up and down steep escalators, walking  up and down several flights of stairs. 

London is an enormous city with many neighborhoods. You couldn’t possibly visit them all. The biggest lesson so far is you really have to pace yourself. Sit down a lot, Take days off. Relax. 

To think it will be a new place, culture, people every month is kind of overwhelming but so exciting!

. 

We ain’t in Kansas anymore

 So it’s day 3 after we got here and even though we’re still exhausted, we can’t hold back any longer. We have to go into central London! 

We decide to get the”just kill me now” ridiculously expensive monthly travel card. That HURT but it makes travel easy. The line we live on goes across London and stops throughout central London. 

So we are official tube riders. Down the corridor, scan the card, upstairs to the platform and voila(!), we’re on the train..

Turns out this is one of the busiest lines so it’s often crowded. When the train door opens, there’s a scramble for empty seats. It’s a dog eat dog, snooze you lose, situation. 

On the train are ordinary people of all shapes and sizes dressed in their understated black, beige, brown English clothes. Little color. It’s in the upper 60’s but there are no shorts. Some people have on winter coats. OK…

Nobody is yelling. Nobody is talking to themselves. Nobody looks too threatening. Just minding their own business. This isn’t what I’m used to in Mpls. where if someone isn’t a complete wack job every time you get on, there is something wrong. 

So off we go to dazzling downtown. We come up from the oxford circus station and are blown away. Magnificent beautiful old buildings surround us. 

It immediately strikes me that we are in a city that is thousands of years old and it’s right in front of me. 

To quote a clique, we ain’t in Kansas anymore.

Almost homeless in London

 On the 3rd night things take a dramatic turn. 

I always ordered my groceries for delivery at home. So I thought I’d try it here. So I order it just like usual, pick a time slot for delivery. Everything’s cool.

Get a message saying they are behind. Okay, that’s alright. Time goes by.  I had ordered a evening delivery and it’s getting late. I had told them ring the buzzer and I’ll come down and get it. So I thought maybe they had just left it at the door. So we thought we’d go to check.

So we went out to the hall to go downstairs. The door shuts behind us. We go downstairs. It’s not there. Come upstairs and discover THE DOOR IS LOCKED! Do we have the key? Ah no…we were just going 50 feet down to the door. The lock is from the 1920s or something and automatically locks.

So we are staying in a five unit condo building. We are on the second floor. WHAT THE HELL ARE WE GOING TO DO NOW?! Remember I told you the owner is in France? Neither one of us had our phones with us to call anybody.

I am picturing us spending the night on the street, homeless in London. I’m picturing the police breaking down the door.

So we think- hey maybe there’s a sort of caretaker in the building who has e very one’s keys or something…So we knock next door. No answer. Okay go downstairs.

Door #2: Guy offered to help us force the door open. Ah no…Door #3 The guy knew the owner and had her number! He said he’d call her. I fell at his feet to worship him. Har.

So he calls and comes out to tell us her parents will be there ion 10 minutes to let us in. Hallejulah!

She comes. We apologize profusely. We go in. I superglue the key to my hand. (!) All is well. Another crisis averted

I melt down

After going through customs at Heathrow, we decided to just take

the train to Leytonstone where we were gonna be. 

Customs is easy for Americans. Basically you get in a line that winds around for half a mile. Then at the end you put your passport straight down on a scanner and a picture is taken of you. Then voila! You are let loose in England.  

We get a SIM card for the phone at the airport(probably a mistake).

So by now it’s 8 am. We find the tube and start the trip to Leytonstone. My back pack is so heavy, almost unmanageable for me. We take the Piccadilly line to Holton street and change to the central line. We go down stairs, up escalators, through halls all while dragging the bags. 

We arrive in Leytonstone and leave the tube station and we are in a small business district. We immediately sit on a bench. We made it! We are here! We’re in England!

Now we have to figure out how to stay awake for the next 8 hours til the airbnb is ready. We sit there and realize that most people around us speak different languages. This is a very diverse area. It’s great! 

So we go to Subway of all places, our first meal in England is at an American fast food place.

 Now what? What are we gonna do for the next 7 hours? This business area is only two streets. We go to a coffee shop, a library, sit on various benches, end up at McDonald’s. Sit there a couple hours til 3:30.

We are in a state of desperation at this point. It is Wednesday afternoon. We killed ourselves moving the apartment Monday. Slept very little Monday night. Spent 8 hours in JFK.on Tuesday. We were already exhausted. Got no sleep Tuesday night. Now we had to stay awake for 8 hours Monday. 

By the time we arrived at the Airbnb we (shall I say I) were on the edge of losing it completely. 

After we got the keys, that’s exactly what happened: I had a complete meltdown.

On the plane to London

Jet Blue did an absolutely fantastic job on the NYC to London flight. I’ve never been on an overnight commercial flight so had no idea what it would be like. Left at 6pm.

We get to our seats and there is a blanket, sleep mask, socks, earphones, ear plugs, champagne, caviar (OK just kidding on those last two). Soon after takeoff, drinks and snacks. Should have downed a couple of vodka shots to sleep, but alas, did not.Not too long after that, a meal was served that was pretty good.

So it’s about 8 pm now and everybody settles in to sleep. Except me and Mike. We can’t sleep. Two hours later. Lights come up a little bit. Water is given out. About an hour later drinks. Land at 6 am. We actually only spent six hours on the flight but we are six hours ahead so it’s 6 am. It’s midnight back home. 

Our second night with little to no sleep. We will have to stay awake until 4 pm when we can go to our air bnb.

The layover from hell

So we were so tired from lack of sleep and moving. The flight to New York was fine . Arrived at JFK at about 8 am.

We started our 10 hour layover. Our flight to London left at 6 pm. That’s what you get for a cheap flight. 

M originally had wanted to go into the city while we were there but I really didn’t  want to drag a suitcase and backpack around Manhattan. The way we felt, we never would have gone anyway. 

So try passing 10 hours in an airport when you are exhausted and sore. I started to realize just how heavy my backpack was during this time. My 66 year old body was protesting. So somehow we got through 10 hours in the jet blue terminal which has little to offer. Mike slept maybe 20 minutes on the ground of the terminal. 

So finally got on the plane to London. I was in the window seat. He was in the middle and there was someone beside him. Another 6 hours of misery was ahead of us.