Day 2

London is a beautiful city, and not in the way that I expected. Many things are beautiful for their uniformity.  The morning after heavy snow is beautiful for the way the snow disguises the land and presents one with a homogenous landscape of white.  Not being especially familiar with London before this trip, this is the kind of beauty I expected; traditional, historic buildings that embody a timeless image of classical London.  Instead, London's beauty comes from its variety.  The juxtaposition of 40-story skyscrapers and 13th-century churches is like nothing I've seen before.  After climbing nearly 500 feet to the top of St. Paul's cathedral yesterday, I was awed by the beautiful stone spires that punctuate the skyline's steel and glass.  This incredible building--the Gherkin--sits immediately next to the Tower of London.  In addition to this contrast of classic and modern, London has been careful to incorporate the natural into the mix.  I saw a sign yesterday that claimed that London boasts one of the highest tree-to-citizen ratios of any major city.  While a very quick internet search could neither confirm nor deny this, I have no trouble believing it.  Greenspace can be found all throughout the citIy, and even if only in the form of a single row of trees, it provides a refreshing reprieve from what could easily be an industrial metropolis.

After only managing to sleep for an hour Thursday night thanks to a combination of excitement and some of the least comfortable benches conceivable, I rode the six o'clock train into the city, and arrived around 7.  I stowed my bag in an Underground station. I had planned where to go afterward, and had a rough itinerary, but decided instead to meander around, and I'm glad I did.  It was a gray, misty morning, and I had incredible fun wandering around, waking up with the city.  It felt very authentic walking down Liverpool Street with businessmen and -women walking to work.  In my eagerness to fit in, I tried to jaywalk as the Londoners do, with nearly disastrous results. It's very popular to cross halfway and wait at the usually wide median for the remaining lanes of traffic to clear.  I did not immediately understand this, nor was I familiar looking first right, then left.  I had a slightly close encounter with a van that did not seem inclined to slow down.  Afterward, safely on the curb, I made eye contact with a young professional and he and I laughed, perhaps for different reasons.

I wandered around the city until I found St. Paul's cathedral, so I took my wandering inside, and explored it for a couple of hours, joining a tour group of American senior-citizens en route to a cruise.  St. Paul's was one of the most impressive buildings I've ever seen, and was truly an amazing experience.  I'm only disappointed that they don't allow photography, so I can't share just how fantastic it was.  I was able to take pictures from the top, though, so I'll post a couple of those, because the view was spectacular.

After St. Paul's I wandered some more and found myself in a cute district by the Tower Bridge.  Young mothers and their children were out in force, and I ate at a quaint Italian cafe where the owner greeted everyone in Italian, and I watched the kids play while planning my next move.  Afterward, I toured the Tower Bridge, which was to be my last stop before taking the train back out of London for camping in a medieval forest.  I met two guys from Arkansas--Izhar and Caleb--however, who were in London for the day before continuing on a tour de force of Eurasia that would eventually lead to Nepal.  I had great fun talking to them, but I ended up a little behind schedule for camping and had to hurry for fear of losing the light.

I took the train to its farthest extent, a town called Epping, and got there just before 7, and knew I would have to hustle to beat sunset.  I had read that it was only a few-mile walk to the forest from the station, so I checked the map at the station to confirm.  It was a limited map, but listed Epping Forest Council Office, so I disembarked.  I walked a couple of miles along the sidewalk--uphill--through delightful suburbs.  My camera died at the Tower Bridge or I would have documented this portion of my trip.  Finally, around 7:45, I arrived at the Council Office, which I was not surprised to find closed.  I was, however, surprised to find that the community's name was Epping Forest, and that the council office was actually a city hall of sorts.  With no woods to be found.  I decided to go a little farther before turning back, because I knew the walk back through small neighborhoods wouldn't be particularly hazardous in the dark.

A little farther along I saw a sign for Stonards Hill Recreation Park.  Reinvigorated, I quickened my pace and headed toward what could only be a campground.  Unfortunately for me, however, this recreation park turned out to be a playground.  I enlisted the aid of some mountain bikers, who looked like they would know the nearest actual campground was; they informed me that I had come the entirely wrong direction, from the wrong station.  The forest I was looking for was a short walk from the identically-named bus station the town over.  The bikers were incredibly helpful, though, and told me of a path from the playground that led to an ideal site to camp wild.  I thanked them, and they went on their way.

Walking through the parking lot to the playground, I met more locals:  four guys about my age, who greeted me by rolling alongside me in their car, blaring dance music, and bobbing their heads.  After talking with them for several minutes, during which time several of their friends walked up to see the funny American, the driver, Lee, erupted into a stream of expletives and began pointing across the park.  Following his indication, I saw two policemen directly between me and my soon-to-be makeshift campsite.  Lee explained that the cops were 'nicking' the high-school-age kids who had converged on the park at dusk.

Realizing that the police presence prevented any chance of me having a wild campsite set up by dark, I decided to head back to the city.  Lee was kind enough to give me a ride back to the Underground station, during which he told me that while he did listen to dance music, he most enjoyed Kenny Rogers and country-western music.

Back in London, I scrambled and was able to find a room around 11.  Just after 12, I arrived at my hotel and collapsed, falling asleep before even unpacking my things.  All's well that ends well, and I had a teriffic adventure, a good night's sleep, and made friends with some locals.

This has been a much longer post than I had intended.  Here are a few of the pictures I took:

London

And finally, as a bonus, here's a collection of songs that make me think of traveling--from now on I may have to add Kenny Rogers to that list.  This is what I listened to while I packed.

And now, I've got to go.  The afternoon is wasting, and I've got to get ready for America to give England hell in the World Cup game tonight!