A Week in London

I’m currently curled on the couch with the UK news humming in the background, orange juice in my hands and this view spread before my eyes, all in a little apartment above the Thames River. London, how I love you!

The first line in my travel journal reads, ‘No matter what they tell you, you will never be able to wear enough layers outside during Winter in London,’ and oh my god is this true. It’s SO COLD ALL THE TIME. My toes freeze even through three layers of socks, my ears blush underneath my beanie and my cheeks are caught in a constant pink flush. But I love it so much! I love slipping off my bright red coat in a cafe lit with a warm golden glow and wrapping it behind my chair, and I love feeling a real chill- not just the breath of fresh air we feel in an Australian ‘Winter.’

The first line in Holly’s travel journal reads, simply, ‘Well, fuck.’ And to be honest, this is a pretty accurate representation of how we’re feeling.

So far, we’ve crossed every street on the Monopoly board, walked down cobble-stoned streets lined with gingerbread houses that look so much like the Christmas dough your mouth waters, caught dozens of double-deck red buses and watched the Phantom of the Opera on West End, from the seventh row. I let a few squirrels crawl up my legs so I’m praying they don’t have rabies, if so… rip me. We ate macaroons on a curb in Convent Garden, which, by the way we were expecting to be a literal garden. Heads up: there are no trees or flowers! One morning we got stuck in a church service in Westminster Abbey and on another we met a British man who owns 62 pair of Adidas and let us use his heater.

For now, enjoy A Week in London, the first glimpse into my European Trail.