Memories I Have Already Forgotten

During our nightly phone call last night, Craig mentioned that he had finally found time to sit down and read through my most recent blog posts about his arrival in London. "You're writing style is good," he complimented, "but you've already forgotten a few memories of our first day together in London."

Undoubtedly, I knew that I would forget some details over time, but after my conversation with Craig, I was surprised by how many important stories had already left my conscious thoughts. Not wanting to forget them a second time, I jumped from my couch to grab a pen and scribble a few notes on the back of a recently-sent birthday card. Rather than inserting them into an already existing blog post and risk these stories being missed by anyone who regularly reads this blog, I've decided to write this follow-up post in hopes of fixing all of my chronological mistakes.

To clear up any confusion, here's a re-cap of Craig's first day in London:
1) I took a train from Guildford to London Gatwick Airport to meet Craig as he arrives from Cincinnati.
2) Craig barely makes it through U.K. passport control.
3) While questioning Craig's need for an extremely large suitcase, we ride the subway to our hostel and conveniently drop off our bags.
4) Craig freaks out as I almost lose him in the London subway.
5) We both have a great time at the Tower of London.
6) INSERT FORGOTTEN MEMORIES HERE.
7) We finally arrived back at our hostel for the night only to discover that my mattress is soaking wet.

I must have suffered from a case of temporary amnesia as the hours between the closing of the Tower of London and arriving at our hostel were hazily blotted from my mind. So what happened during Craig's first evening in London that is seemingly important for me to re-tell now? Several things, my dear readers. Let us back up to the Tower of London...

As mentioned previously, Craig and I had such a great time at the Tower of London that we didn't leave Tower Hill until the museum was closing its doors for the night (rather, only late afternoon around 4 or 5 o'clock). After eating a late lunch, neither of us had an appetite for dinner at this point though pub dinners were just beginning for the evening. Wanting to make the most of Craig's visit to London, I suggested that we experience yet another aspect of British culture -- Evensong with the Church of England.

Though Craig and I are both devout Roman Catholics, my religious practices had changed a bit since living in England. Firstly, I had to adjust to the fact that Catholicism is not the primary religion in England. Though I had expected this, I didn't realize how challenging it would be to find a convenient place for mass on Sunday mornings. While it wasn't much of a problem to go to mass in Guildford, it wasn't always possible for me to attend Catholic mass while Bill and I were traveling across England and other parts of Europe. To make up for missing masses, I would simply adopt the local Christian religion for a weekend and attend nearby services on the weekends. Since many of our weekend destinations were in southern England, Bill and I had attended several Evensong services as well as Sunday morning services with the Church of England. To put it all in perspective, I never really saw many differences between the Church of England and Catholicism. If you remember your history lessons, you may already know that the Church of England arose from the Roman Catholic Church and broke off as its own religion when King Henry VII wanted a divorce that the catholic bishops were unwilling to give. Though establishing itself as a distinct and separate religion, the Church of England kept many of the same Catholic traditions including celebration of the Eucharist, scripture readings, sacraments, and a mid-service homily. Needless to say, I am still hard-pressed to find more differences between the religions than similarities.

On one of our many trips to London, Bill and I had visited St. Paul's Cathedral -- cornerstone of the Church of England. Though much newer than Westminster Abbey, Bill and I were both awe-inspired by the beauty of the cathedral. For Evensong, the cathedral is lit only by candlelight, and music sung by the Choir of Men and Boys is absolutely heavenly. Similar to a Catholic mass, Evensong lasts about an hour and includes singing, Scripture readings, a homily given by the pastor, and Eucharist. To further immerse my boyfriend into British culture, Craig and I reluctantly hopped back onto the subway (read my earlier posts to find out why we weren't fans of the subway) and headed westward to St. Paul's Cathedral.

Mainly, I had two motivations for bringing Craig to Evensong at St. Paul's: (1) the choir and church are gorgeous by candlelight, and (2) Evensong and other services are the only times when you can get into the cathedral for free (yes, we are both cheap Americans). Craig's first response to seeing the cathedral, however, was far from the quiet reverence that I was expecting:

"That's the dome they blow up in 'V for Vendetta'!" he exclaimed as we turned a corner and saw the cathedral towering in the near distance.

Laughingly, I replied, "Not exactly my first impression of the place, but at least you can say that you saw something famous today."

Eventually finding the main entrance, we quietly entered the church as Evensong was just beginning. Keeping our voices to a whisper, I pointed out various aspects of the church as we walked across the back of the chapel. Edging towards the middle of the church, we stretched our necks to catch a glimpse of the mosaic-clad dome before earning annoyed glances from the church attendants. Feeling slightly disconcerted, Craig nudged me back towards the entrance and whispered, "I think we should head out now."

Walking back outside, I asked him, "So what did you think of St. Paul's?"

"The choir was incredible and the church was pretty, but I didn't want to crash their evening service."

"We could have stayed for Evensong," I replied.

"No," Craig answered. "I think I saw enough to get the gist of the place. Besides, that relaxing music would probably have put me to sleep."

"Hungry yet?" I asked, changing the subject.

"Not really."

"Excellent!" I replied. "Then we still have time to hit Harrod's before it closes for the night."

Despite visiting London several times before, I had yet to see inside the infamous Harrod's department store. On par with Macy's or Nordstrom's in New York, Harrod's is not only the largest store in London, but it also gains a fair amount of fame from its owner. The owner, Mohamed Al Fayed, was the father of the late Dodi Al Fayed -- Princess Diana's lover who died with her in a Paris car accident. Wanting to commemorate the death of his son and Princess Diana, Mr. Al Fayed erected a bronze statue of the couple and placed it in a side entrance of his department store. Besides the vast amount of shopping opportunity, this statue alone attracts many tourists to enter the store as they peruse through the streets of London.

Walking towards the store, I noticed a large crowd gathered outside Harrod's main entrance. Grabbing Craig's hand so not to lose each other, we gingerly stepped through the mob of passionate protesters trying to convince shoppers not to enter the store due to its refusal to boycott fur coats and accessories. Annoyed, I led Craig into the store and was instantly greeted by an attendant holding a pile of store maps. Taking a map, Craig and I coughed through the overwhelming perfume aisles and entered room after room sporting a variety of specialty items. Not wanting to add any extra weight to our already heavy luggage, we contented ourselves with only window shopping rather than spending money on somewhat pricey souvenirs.

"Do you know where we could find a loo?" Craig asked me, sporting his best British accent.

"Darling," I answered in my even worse British impression, "let us consult our Harrod's map."

Following our map to the nearest restroom, Craig gave me a quick kiss on the cheek and whispered, "Be back in a sec," as he ducked into the Men's Restroom. Thinking that this would be a great time for me to check out Harrod's bathrooms as well, I stepped in line at the Women's Restroom and patiently waited for a stall to become available. As we are all familiar with the differences between men's and women's public bathrooms, probably the biggest difference is the ever-growing line that winds throughout the women's restroom -- and for some reason, never occurs for the men. Eventually earning my turn to use a stall, I enjoyed the clean bathroom, washed my hands, and touched up my ponytail before leaving the restroom to look for Craig.

I immediately spotted Craig pacing outside the men's restroom with a distraught expression spread across his face. Nonchalantly walking over to him, I tapped him on the shoulder and said, "Nice restrooms. Ready to go now?"

Spinning around, Craig caught arm with a look of half-relief and half-scolding, "I couldn't find you again!"

If you can recall one of my more recent blog posts, you'd remember that Craig had developed a rather overwhelming fear of being stranded by himself in London on his first day in Europe. After nearly losing him on the London subway, I could understand how he could have legitimate concerns... but now??

"I just went to the restroom!" I exclaimed with an incredulous look on my face. "Didn't you see the line waiting outside the women's bathroom?"

"I thought you had wandered off again," Craig began, "and I'd have no way of finding you in this store."

"Craig," I started with an annoyed yet firm tone, "I am not going to lose you. You need to relax and just trust that I know what I am doing around here. Whether you believe it or not, I am always looking out for you around the city and know where you are standing at all times. All you need to do is relax and start enjoying yourself."

And that's when Craig finally started to relax...

Having seen enough of Harrod's, we left the store in search of a bite to eat. Walking on the sidewalk hand-in-hand, Craig abruptly stopped, almost causing me to trip over the sudden change in pace. "What's wrong?" I asked.

"Cars..." he salivated. "Porsche, Aston Martin, and Lamborghini!"

Rolling my eyes, I humored Craig for a few minutes while he walked up and down the street ogling high-priced cars that we'd never see dotting the streets of Cincinnati. Since I'm pretty content with the latest Ford models, I had to ask Craig this morning for the "complete list" of cars that we saw sitting outside Harrod's Department Store: Lamborghini Gallardo, Aston Martin DB9, Maserati GranTurismo, Mercedes-Benz SLK McLaren, Ferrari F430, Bentley Continental GT, Jaguar XK, and Porsche 911.

I must admit that I'm impressed that Craig can remember the models of these cars nearly 8 months after our week in Europe together. I guess some things just leave a lasting impression on guys. ;)

Eventually, rumbling stomachs interrupted Craig's appreciation for London cars, and we continued down the street eyeing nearby restaurants. Too tired and late to grab a plate of inexpensive pub grub, we quickly settled on an Italian sports bar and hungrily devoured two plates of pasta while watching recaps of the latest British soccer match.

Wiping our mouths and paying the bill, we set out on the long subway ride to the Globetrotter Hostel. And, well, you know the rest...

Now I can officially conclude the story of "Craig's First Day in London". See what you would've missed if I had simply left this post out?

Lucky for you, our trip gets even better! Stay tuned for Westminster Cathedral, the Churchill Museum, another trip to the British Museum, and the Paris catastrophe that made our week unexpectedly fantastic!