I'm so excited to continue with my History of a Traveler series today, though maybe an unexpected topic with a major US holiday being tomorrow. Last time I left off at meeting Avril, the fabulous shop owner, slash queen of of Highgate who so lovingly took me under her wing while homesick in London. After meeting the Castellazzos things changed entirely. I fell into a pattern and found myself getting comfortable in a life abroad. Suddenly I could take ownership of my actions, and walking the streets I felt more grounded in my position, and less like an impostor.
Right after Christmas I met a group of wild and crazy kids through my visa organization and they will forever be the BUNAC Babes in my heart. We did everything together, but we mostly ate and danced together. Every weekend we'd get the group together and pick the most absurd dance clubs to go to. We'd dance with Australian tourists in the down-under themed club Roundabout, or go roller dancing in a warehouse converted for the night into a club. It wasn't about hooking up, it was about fun and being silly as single girls away from home. We were like Sex in the City, except without all the sex and three times the number of friends. silly-heads.
It was on these adventures that I'd find myself walking the streets in the wee hours of the morning, or riding the only late bus that went north. There was a toothless bus driver I made friends with, and a few bums whose accents were so thick I couldn't understand them, but I knew they were looking out for me. I loved seeing the characters that came out late at night and formed a certain kinship with them as I frequented their favorite haunts.
When I wasn't dancing to cheesy 80s tunes, or eating in themed restaurants with friends (I had an awkward conversation about sex in an erotic themed bathroom once), I was going to galleries, museums, and walking the Queen's Wood. My experiences with the museums and galleries are what you would expect, but my experiences in the Queen's Wood are a bit more magical and transformative. Queen's Wood was often my escape in London, it felt wild and untamed, and it's where I'd go to when I felt lonely or out of sorts. Something about this thick of woods felt like home.
On a rare snowy morning I somehow managed to leave my apartment an hour early for work, instead of turning around to head home I decided to take the time to walk through the Queen's Wood and enjoy everything snow covered. I was getting to the thicker bits, when out of nowhere, I here bagpipes playing a short distance away. I followed the sound to a clearing where a man in black stood, with snow and mist falling down around him, playing the bagpipes as beautifully as I've ever heard. I stood listening to him until he caught eye of me and stopped. I asked him why he had decided to come out on this chilly morning to play, and he told me because he just felt like he needed to. In my heart I knew that the reason was me. After we talked for a moment he picked up his things, and left with no other explanation.
Things like that were always happening to me in the Queen's Wood, and really London in general. I have a million more stories I could tell about my time there, but I think that last one pretty much sums it up. When you listen to your heart, and follow where it leads you, the unimaginable sometimes becomes real. big kiss, bekuh
