Sans Plans

Today was a little bit of an odd day for me, although it was certainly a good day.

I spent approximately 3 hours walking and chatting with a man I met at the University of London while I was attempting to stroll back through toward the British Museum. We walked to Regent Park—which is about a 30 minute walk, by the way—and through a fair amount of it, our conversation progressing at random through a plethora of topics. I honestly don’t know what his name was. I just realized I never asked him. So yes, I did put my trust in a man I’d just met, whose name I didn’t know, and walk halfway across London with him. I even took the tube with him. Most of my family and friends are probably going to facepalm and groan when they read this, and trust me, I understand why. But honestly, it’s not like we were anywhere that wasn’t completely full of people, and he was very nice, and talkative, and we had a wonderful afternoon.

I feel like it’s important to take a step back from visiting every tourist site in a city and actually interact with the people who live there. Because what is a city but a conglomeration of people? A bunch of buildings. Certainly there’s history there—but there’s history because there were people. London’s history is wrapped up in its people, and I think that this is beautiful. Interaction with the people around me is what makes me feel most alive, connected to the world. It’s kind of difficult to explain, I suppose, but I think that, by getting to know other people, even by getting a brief glimpse of who another person is, allows us to learn more about ourselves— if even in an abstract way.

And… yeah… I’ll admit it: Part of me seriously can’t believe I did it. But I had fun, and I think that’s what matters. Right? I’ll go with that.

So I’ve wandered around literally half of London today, done some shopping, and accomplished little. The British Museum was closed by the time I finally got back there, and then I missed the Jack the Ripper tour. And then I like, pulled a muscle in my ankle or something, because now I can't even walk; I can only limp. It's particularly uncomfortable. I'm really hoping that it goes away, and soon.

Tomorrow I am going on a "Shakespeare and Dickens' London" walk at 11 a.m., and then, depending on my ankle, also the Jack the Ripper tour at 7.30 that I missed tonight. Between those two times, I'm not too certain. I might actually go wander the British Museum for a bit, but I really wanted to go to Spamalot, since it's currently playing. Which reminds me—I need to look into that.

Fare thee well, friends and family. I return to your grasp in but two days. Parting will be such sweet sorrow.

--Emily