We made it! I am sitting on the top floor of our hotel watching the sun set in a glow of rose over the sky-pierce of a cathedral tower and the glimmer glow of several dozen apartment windows (with flowers in them it might be mentioned). We got in at six in the morning and haven’t slept yet, though during the bio movie at the Dickens house, we nearly all succumbed. We’ve tromped up and down these cobbles- one day in London, so we crammed it with as much as we could. Shook paws with the lions in Trafalgar Square, stared Big Ben in his golden face, pattered over London Bridge as rain etched the Thames, and collapsed for a superb cappucino and apple almond tart at a cafe near Covent Garden. We’re having the time of our lives.
There is a tang to travel, a sharp, unadulterated thrill that never fails to zip through me on my first day in the slightly strange wind of a new place. I have always avowed my love of a good journey because it pops me out of the little box of my particular place out into the myriad world of what God has created and thought and laughed into an existence so much bigger than mine. It always comes though, with a moment of panic. Strange to admit, I know. On the plane last night, I had that feeling of free-fall, that parachuteless night hour that acompanies every adventure, in which I am convinced, just for an instant, that home is a much more reasonable place to be. My love of travel has always been accompanied by fear-therein lies its tang, its allure, its treasure. It’s good to love what is familiar, and good to remember it, and good to be reminded of the vastness of all that lies beyond it. If I ever travel without a little terror, I think it will mean I’m getting crusty and grey.
I’m pretty thoroughly into the exhilaration now – tomorrow we see Westminster Abbey and the Pre-Raphaelite collection at the Tate (something I’ve longed to set eyes upon for years), and then take off for the Lake District. Sleep is in the plans at some point too, which is why I must leave you and wish you the most excellent of nights from my perch on a London rooftop.