Saturday, February 24, 2007
London, part one: getting here
This is the first in a three part series on my recent couple days in London.
Our trip to London was one of the longest, most challenging journeys. We arrived at Gatwick airport at about 10:30 PM on Wednesday evening...about a half hour earlier than expected. That was the only travel mercy we had.
After passing through customs successfully (not a given with the way I look in recent days), we bought our train tickets to London Bridge, where we were supposed to switch trains and head to Grove Park...from there it should be a 15 minute walk to the place we are staying...
(11:30) As we got to the platform, Leah noticed that there was a special note saying that London Bridge was closed and we were to switch at a different spot.
(12:45) We got off at that stop, rather cluelessly, and started looking around for a connecting train to Grove Park...nothing. No trains. Barely any people. So, we walk around for a bit and run into Samantha (our first "angel"). She, too, is heading to Grove Park and missed the final connecting train, because an Underground worker told her the wrong information. That same guy sees us standing with her, realizes he gave her the wrong information and orders us a cab to make up for his error.
(1:15) The cabbie takes us to London Bridge station, but all trains are finished for the night and we've just missed the bus...the next bus is coming at 1:45.
(1:45) The bus comes, we get on, with Sam (yeah, we're calling her Sam by now) and head on our way. As we go Sam tries to explain where to get off (she is getting off before us). We don't really understand her, but nod our heads anyways.
(1:56) I fall asleep.
(1:58) I wake up.
(2:15) Sam, feeling bad, calls us a cab and tells us to get off with her.
(2:25) We get off with Sam, say bye and thanks. Get into cab.
(2:29) Find out that our cabbie is not Cabbie Robinson, but Pastor Robinson (enter second "angel"). He is Kenyan.
(2:44) Robinson pulls over because he doesn't know where he's going. He pulls out a map.
(2:46) He asks Leah to find the street because his eyes aren't so good.
(2:47) Leah points and says, "It's this big yellow one."
(2:52) We find the street.
(2:54) Robinson drops us off at *26* Grove Park Rd.
(2:56) We realize that the house is really dark and there is no indication that this is the YWAM house that we are supposed to stay at.
(2:57) I look on the car in the driveway for any indication that this is a Christian house. I don't find anything. Where are the Christian fish when you need them?
(2:59) After deliberating, Leah rings the doorbell.
(3:00) No answer.
(3:04) Still no answer.
(3:05) Leah decides to call Shalina...Sarina...Sabrina...what's her name?
(3:06) Shanina answers the phone. Looks out the window. Doesn't see us. We're at the wrong house!
(3:15) We walk up and down the street, still not seeing the house or another *26*.
(3:16) Nate takes this picture.
(3:17) Leah calls Shanaynay again. She gives us better directions.
(3:30) We arrive at the YWAM house at 76, not 26, but 76 Grove Park Road. Shanina (her real name and our third "angel" whose been waiting up for us!) lets us in!
Total Travel time: 5 hours.
Total Means of Transportation: 5 (Train, Cab, Bus, Cab, Feet)
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5 comments:
why the crap are you in london and why am i not with you?
Hmm, when Sunny and I were in London for my pre-wedding weekend (not a bachlorette weekend...)we had similar experiences with transport. Although, I think you've got us beat on how long it took!
12:45 (during that fateful day in London) was a crazy act of a justice-dominated british culture. In latin america there is not such a concern for justice. this is my comment: it seems to me that cultures by and large are more sympathetic towards justice or romance. Latin America, i.e. the ticket counter agent in Mexico City who didn't care what another ticket agent told us about our flight but only that we missed it, leans more to the romantic side of things, enter again ticket agent who is now enthralled that it is our honeymoon and proceeds to find us the best room he can given that his company is financing it. To restate, London specifically seems as a culture to be super-focused on justice whereas Latin America cares way more about romance/emotion.
12:45 (during that fateful day in London) was a crazy act of a justice-dominated british culture. In latin america there is not such a concern for justice. this is my comment: it seems to me that cultures by and large are more sympathetic towards justice or romance. Latin America, i.e. the ticket counter agent in Mexico City who didn't care what another ticket agent told us about our flight but only that we missed it, leans more to the romantic side of things, enter again ticket agent who is now enthralled that it is our honeymoon and proceeds to find us the best room he can given that his company is financing it. To restate, London specifically seems as a culture to be super-focused on justice whereas Latin America cares way more about romance/emotion.
You are such a beautiful little man.
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