05.04.2015 - 05.07.2015
The 6th day of the 5th month, year two zero one five.
Today represenents a day that will live in infamy. Thus far, of nearly thirty years on this planet I have yet to experience this. Nearly half of the city wept as I awoke early to a rainy morn, stepped outside, with hood up, to a day that would forever be ..... the last day of my first trip to London. (insert absurdly accurate weeping bearded emoji here).
I understand if you need to fetch a tissue. Please go right ahead.
We embarked on our hike to the nearest tube. Thankfully the rain was concealing the waterfall of tears for London has torn my heartstrings. Leaving her now would be like having an amazing first date where you click on all levels (even the weird goofy things that nobody could, or even should for, that matter). Then you unbearably withstand to call/text the night of in order to avoid showing all your cards, wait what you think is an appropriate amount of time, and then proceed to phone. The phone rings once. Twice. Thrice. Voicemail of a man speaking. And everyone knows since it is 2015, no one leaves personal voicemails any more (hell sort of like how actually calling people has gone out of style). - Sidebar: I'm not sure what brought about this group think regarding everyone's preference of texting over voice calls. They say it is so much easier yet then they all complain about how hard it is to read someones emotion and tone within a text. Whatever, I'm sure Hitler was behind it somehow. - Anyways, the girl never answers. You realize you wrote the number down wrong and you have no way to contact her (think before facebook days for this one). You can only hope that your paths would cross in the nearest of future. [This is sounding a little odd - maybe it's that wine BA just served us while I'm typing this on our flight from London to Munich (slanted winkey face)].
Cue horrible transition back to the purpose of this blog, sightseeing and experiences in a new country. We began the day with a number of train stops leading us to St Paul's Cathedral. What an absolute beaut. The dome peacefully stretches to the heavens. It is more than a structure. It has become a symbol. As we embarked on our personal audio tour, The first room requests the listener to look up, and absorb the beauty that is the roof above their heads. The millions of pieces of glass which make up the mosaics are a sight unmatched in my experience. As I casually strolled through the nave taking in this historical beauty, I noticed a brunette woman, roughly mid-twenties in age, standing near the front of the high alter. As I watched more closely, I noticed her wiping tears from her eyes. This anonymous soul was unbelievably touched by the the beauty of this timeless art. Unfortunately, pictures would have again sent me to hell/jail if I attempted to take some. (google photos of the cathedral's celing is you have the desire).
Check ya some photos:
So you've got some amazing photos from the top of the cathedral. More pictures of this. Some awesomely odd mate,. A castle. A bridge. A bridge. and then my aunt getting buzzed. Yippity doo dah. Those mechanical wine dispensers area amazing.... said all women ever. Don't lie.
Night ended with some absolutely amazing Indian foods. Said to be the favourite restaurant of branjolini (brad and angela?) in London. It was quite impressive. I may just be a brown after Oh wait, yeah cocktails did make an appearance at some bar nearby which specialized in a watermelon drink... literally - shaken watermelon chunks with liquor. Get after it. Ole Matty boy loved it. He loves the fruit. What can I say? Healthy man.
Nothing interesting to end the eve.
Love it. Live it. And do whatever the hell keeps you being you.