I think I know when it hit me.
It wasn't when I arrived at the airport, although I did feel my throat close up a bit when I realised I was all alone. It wasn't when I got on the plane, even though I did feel my heart lurch as we took off. (You know that feeling you get when you miss a step on a flight of stairs?) And it wasn't when I could see the city of London peeking through the misty clouds - the London Eye, Big Ben, rows upon rows of tall, thin, brick terraces - although I couldn't stop grinning in amazement from my window-seat view.
It wasn't even when I left the airport and hopped on the tube (which took me about 10 seconds - thank you, Italian passport) although I couldn't help but laugh out loud at each announcement of 'This is a Piccadilly Line train to... Cockfosters.'
No. It wasn't until I finally arrived at Clapham Common High Street after struggling with my heavy bags up countless flights of stairs; when the previously clear sky suddenly turned grey and started pelting bulbous, dollop-y raindrops and the streets were amok with kids travelling home from school. I could hear them chattering by the chicken shop, dressed in their school blazers, wearing their hair slicked back or in cornrows.
It was when I heard that unmistakable 'kiss my teeth' sound and one girl proclaim 'What you sayin', man? Are you dumb?' that I thought, 'Ah, yes. I'm in London now.'
It wasn't when I arrived at the airport, although I did feel my throat close up a bit when I realised I was all alone. It wasn't when I got on the plane, even though I did feel my heart lurch as we took off. (You know that feeling you get when you miss a step on a flight of stairs?) And it wasn't when I could see the city of London peeking through the misty clouds - the London Eye, Big Ben, rows upon rows of tall, thin, brick terraces - although I couldn't stop grinning in amazement from my window-seat view.
It wasn't even when I left the airport and hopped on the tube (which took me about 10 seconds - thank you, Italian passport) although I couldn't help but laugh out loud at each announcement of 'This is a Piccadilly Line train to... Cockfosters.'
No. It wasn't until I finally arrived at Clapham Common High Street after struggling with my heavy bags up countless flights of stairs; when the previously clear sky suddenly turned grey and started pelting bulbous, dollop-y raindrops and the streets were amok with kids travelling home from school. I could hear them chattering by the chicken shop, dressed in their school blazers, wearing their hair slicked back or in cornrows.
It was when I heard that unmistakable 'kiss my teeth' sound and one girl proclaim 'What you sayin', man? Are you dumb?' that I thought, 'Ah, yes. I'm in London now.'
posted by Tamara at
1:17 PM
2 Comments:
Wonderful sense of arriving on the great adventure. Felt I was in London myself, walking the old streets. Can't wait for the next episode.
I'm now following you, don't keep me waiting, babe. Sounds like you're having a gay ol' time. Love x
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