hello london.

After departing the Heathrow airport, our first task: to purchase our Oyster cards. Although they are merely for transit, it felt like the world was now our oyster! We encountered a near death experienced by escalator when the woman far ahead of me knocked over her hefty three bags. I abandoned mine and bounded down the steps to help her, which inevitably did not work out, as my bag tumbled into me with Jamie and Britt directly behind. It was quite the hysterical mess. Jumping onto the tube, the whole journey into London, we heard, “This is the Picadilly line, service to Cockfoster,” and giggled almost every single time at the silly names. (Boy, were we sleepy!) In my sleepy state, I verbalized the stupid thought that time zones should not exist, and each place should just adapt to their own times for morning and lunch, etc, this was my thinking at one in the morn, when I translated it to work to my advantage. Anyways, everybody reads the news during transit. Not one person was without a newspaper. No wonder they come off as such intellectuals; they all read the news, even the younger school kids, decked out like they were headed to Hogwarts.

I was in a miserable sort yesterday. We all were, but I was the worst company, in my opinion. I was grumpy and groggy-a very unpleasant combination. My first day in England was not the lovely experience I imagined it to be, no fault on the city of London. Brilliant were we to think “let’s just stay awake , even though we slept hardly a wink on the plane, and then just pull in early.” Impossible! I sat on the Double Decker bus, our “overview” of London, and fought to keep my eyes open. It went much like this: there’s the London Eye, nodding off to sleep, Jamie wakes me up to point out Big Ben, there it is, asleep again, listen to a fun fact about the lion sculptures in Trafalger Square, snoozing some more. The lady’s British voice over my tour headphones must have been awfully amiable because it served as my lullaby all afternoon. As we were walking, we most likely searched down every last street in London by making wrong turn after wrong turn. The entire day was a hazy blur. We returned to our hostel, the Travel Joy, and finally made it up to our room, which was surprisingly very nice, with its large windows, Ikea-esque furniture and picnic-table furnished balcony looking over the Thames. We turned into bed around 7pm, what we had dreamed of doing all day and finally crashed.

Today was fresh, and we certainly felt refreshed. Although my body felt sick and slightly queasy, I was lucid which was minor progress from the previous day. We woke up slowly, the long white curtains billowing in with the cool Britain air, inviting us to give the city another chance. From the Changing of the Guards in front of Buckingham Palace to the Thames River Cruise to the Tower of London, we started taking in the sights and history of London. It is a remarkable city, relating it to what I know, like throwing together NYC and Washington DC (the British versions.) All of the sights are drenched in history; we pass hotels where Winston Churchill and Ghandi stayed or the restaurant where tickets for the Titanic were sold or Princes that were murdered within the Tower walls, or stories of Kings, Queens, and those beheaded for sorcery and such. We peered into cases holding the crown of jewels, protected by 2000 kg vault doors. The stories of royalty are fascinating, thick in power and prestige. World Cup madness is advertised outside of every pub. Brick buildings, flower boxes, and parks adorn the city. The British accents enchant me, and I get accent envy each time I hear it.

Tonight I ventured out on my own for the showing of Les Miserables. The last I had seen it was on Broadway, and I was young and unable to fully grasp the storyline. I grabbed some English sushi before the show, then rushed to my Upper Circle level seat in the Queen’s Theatre. When I went to purchase tickets, to my happy surprise, Nick Jonas was playing the part of Marius on London's Broadway, during their three week celebration of the show’s 25th anniversary. What are the chances?! Other than the giddy whispers behind me during the first few minutes of the show (probably Americans) I was so engrossed into his character that I mostly forgot about the teen idol he is, proving his talent in both acting and singing. He is a natural at Broadway; well, Broadway is where he started, even before pop music! Overall, it was a phenomenal performance, with songs that tug at the heart, musically and lyrically. The storyline is a poignant image of grace, redemption and forgiveness. Jean’s character and the grace extended to him have such a strong parallel to the grace God extends to us. And it depicts the constant struggle between justice and grace. After just finishing the book by Phillip Yancey, “What’s So Amazing About Grace,” it was just an overflowing summary of everything I have been learning. Pretty amazing.