the first 24: life is but a dream
Our first morning, we staggered off our redeye flight at Heathrow. The kids slept better than their parents (being under 4 feet tall has advantages in coach, including the ability to lie horizontally, even if contorted). But we all felt and looked like our own special versions of the walking dead. We almost went to the baggage claim out of habit — have I mentioned that we left NYC with just four carry-ons for the first time ever? I still can barely believe it — but instead caught an Uber to our Airbnb. The one-bedroom flat, a garden-level apartment in a smart row of townhouses in South Kensington, was fine, and the host let us drop our bags off a few hours before check-in. Then we wandered the streets, exploring (aka trying not to fall asleep standing up). Ten minutes in, there was a commotion on the street where we were walking. An officer stopped traffic in either direction and blocked off the small side street we were trying to cross. Locals gathered. Some looked irritated, others curious. One, clearly ready for her close-up with Meghan, Harry and Archie, told me that a royal was about to pass by. Then two carriages rolled through.
A royal mystery: Who WAS in the carriages?
It’s true, Kate & Wills live literally across the street at Kensington Palace. But I have no idea why any titled English person would be riding a carriage with a police (bobby?) escort on this particular morning. Some royals experts in my life assured me it was probably just a test run, and that no one was behind those shuttered doors. Either way, it caught Lulu and Max’s attention. And for an exhausted, hallucinatory moment we all imagined Her Majesty sitting feet away, greeting us with a royal wave from inside and welcoming us to London in her own special way. Peppa and her family meet the Queen when they go to London in an episode of Peppa Pig. So why shouldn’t we? The rest of the day was a blur — we got European SIM cards (the much cheaper alternative to paying for international phone plans), found a small playground in Holland Park where the kids exhausted their last shreds of energy, shopped for groceries (so. many. great. yogurts. that’s all I can say), walked until our feet hurt and ended up in a pub my husband used to frequent when he was an American drama student at the London Academy of Music and Dramatic Art. A few blocks away we stopped to see Freddie Mercury’s old house. It sits behind a high wall on a quiet street called Logan Place. I didn’t take a picture, mainly because of the hordes of Italian tourists posing for selfies in front of his door. For months, my 4-year-old son’s favorite song has been “Don’t Stop Me Now.” I wasn’t a big Queen fan but the movie Bohemian Rhapsody (sigh) plus this song — which my kids “discovered” in a Silk soy milk commercial — grew on me with alarming ferocity. It’s become a welcome earworm. I sing it in the shower, hum it on the street, belt it out with Max after picking him up from preschool. Hearing him sing “That’s why they call me Mr. Fahrenheit, traveling at the speed of light…” is one of the more adorable things I’ve experienced. It’s become my secret theme song since the day I left my job, and now it’s the theme song for our trip. It’s not always going to be easy, but there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.
Tonight, I'm gonna have myself a real good time
I feel alive
And the world I'll turn it inside out, yeah
I’m floating around in ecstasy
So don't stop me now
Don't stop me
'Cause I'm having a good time, having a good time
Embracing the pub life: tired (some of us more than others), happy and full.