Five Years Since London
Back in 2019, bestie Ginger asked if she could tag along with me on my next trip to the UK. Of course I said yes. I went every couple of years just because, and she had never been overseas. As far as she was concerned, it would be her only time getting to. And on the plane back, she was already talking about "next time."
As far as we were concerned, next time would be next year. The Cubs (her favorite baseball team) were scheduled to play an exhibition game in London. Well. Of course I'd be happy to go with her. No need to even ask.
Then 2020 happened, and the only real plus side was that we hadn't bought any tickets in advance.
A lot has happened since then... globally, yes, obviously. But now the man who raised me has passed away, I own the house I grew up in (and its many leaky creaky bits are my responsibility to repair), and my finances are finally such that I can travel again. But it's really, really strange how something that became so second-nature to me half my life ago can become so foreign after five years.
I remember my first trip to the UK: something I assumed would be once-in-a-lifetime. It was Christmastime, I spent most of the trip up in Manchester with friends and made London a relatively brief visit, and even getting stranded in a few spots on the way back due to flights being cancelled didn't ruin it. It was a trial-by-fire solo trip there and back. But after everything that happened, subsequent trips felt easy.
On one trip, I recall leaving a friend's club in London, several white wines and a lot of conversation I've mostly forgotten later, and making it home to my friends' place a few stops outside the city without getting lost or turned around. And picking up sushi to go along the way. For me, someone who's clumsy and forgetful and always has been, it was weirdly empowering to conquer a major city that way. (Never mind that the tube makes it extremely easy to traverse London—I'll take my victories where I can.) Whatever the reason, and despite my general distaste for big cities, London has become a place where I feel surprisingly okay.
And yet 2020 did a number on all of us. Even now, I still get anxiety about going out to run errands. I feel weird about it being the "first time" to do something since then. It's not the first time getting on a plane since 2019, fortunately; that was for Ginger's wedding. And for a bit, as I was weighing up locking down the ticket, I felt serious anxiety. Like I'd never done this before. Like I was in my 20s again and facing down something totally new. And I wonder how long it will be like that for each of us. Four going on five years later, what will be our First Time Since?
For what it's worth, the anxiety is gone, because I remembered how much I love touching down in London and seeing all those familiar people and places. I've got tickets to (what I swear is going to be) a very cool show, I've got my new clothes bought, I have plans and plans-for-plans with friends I've not seen in ages. And yes, there will be photos and blog posts.
I started writing this freeform because I wasn't sure what to say this week—I'm between books and tea samples and publications, and other things I'd like to talk about long-form haven't really progressed enough for a deep dive. But I'm trying to be better about always having something lined up, even if that means talking a lot of nonsense. I suppose this is to acknowledge that we've all got things we're coming back to, even now. And I hope whatever it is you're coming back to, it goes well.
And also that I'll be in the UK for a bit next month and I can't wait.
About the Author
0 comments