tea with milk, fish and chips, meal deals

First full day in London—realized this morning I didn’t have to wait for Sleeping Beauty (Abby Truong) to stir to get my day started. I walked down to Holland Park by myself, copy of Heartstopper: Volume Six tucked under my arm. It’s early enough where the only people out are Kensington’s residents and their dogs, who walk as properly as their owners, trotting down the park’s path. I cry at the end of Heartstopper. I’m listening to the soundtrack. Perhaps this is what life is all about.

Once I finish the book, I walk back to our AirBNB, where Abby is up and getting ready for the day. We walk down to the coffee shop owned by our hosts, Pocket Coffee, where a friendly British man (who looks like he was plucked off the streets of Santa Barbara) takes our order. I decide to get tea, and Abby a cappuccino. I’ve never added milk to my tea before, but I figured I’m in London, and this would be the time. Pals, I’ve decided never to find that time again, no matter how many times I revisit London. The milk was warm, and changed the hot tea into a lukewarm, tasteless liquid.

On the Tube we go! Today’s our huge sightseeing day—get all of the huge monuments checked off in a singular day so we can zero in on more specific areas the rest of the trip. Just down the river, Big Ben and the Palace of Westminster come into view. This is crazy stuff, pals, I must admit. We cross over the Westminster Bridge to view the most iconic monument up close—The Paddington Experience building! There’s a cute van parked in front selling Paddington merch, along with an assortment of associated treats. Abby and I both get vanilla soft serve with a sugar paw print stuck on the top, and eat it while staring out at the River Thames.

After polishing off our ice cream, we move spots to get a better view. It’s been nearly two weeks of watching tourists pose in front of famous monuments, and I’ve come to realize I’m quite sad to be a teenager in the maxi skirt epidemic. There’s nothing quite like a good mini skirt.

We follow Rick Steves’ Westminster Walk, stopping in a gift shop or two along the way. I even bought a stupid Viktor Krum keychain that was on an insane sale because no one is buying Viktor Krum keychains ever. But eventually we make it to Trafalgar Square, where the most exciting thing of the day comes into view (besides Paddington maybe). It’s Waterstones! Their chain bookstore! Abby and I are completely elated.

And man, it’s loads better than your typical Barnes & Noble—the selection is so much more diverse, and it’s so exciting to see all the different Penguin editions we can’t find in the United States. I’m sort of a Penguin Publishing fanatic if you didn’t know. Somehow, we waste away two hours in the basement of that store, pouring over our different options and trying to figure out what we can fit into our Cotopaxis. In the end, I chose:

• Oranges Are Not the Only Fruit by Jeanette Winterson

• Around the World in 80 Trains: A 45,000-Mile Adventure by Monisha Rajesh (signed!)

• Labels by Evelyn Waugh

You can see the travel writing section really got to me. What’s someone like me to do?

Abby gets:

• Taiwan Travelogue by Yang Shuang-zi

• Fleabag by Phoebe Waller-Bridge

• Drive the Plow Over the Bones of the Dead by Olga Tokarczuk

Then it’s time for our first fish and chips of the trip! Abby and I head to a local pub. She likes them more than I expect, and I enjoy them more than I do in the United States. But if I eat too much fried food, I start to feel quite ill. The taste of oil still permeates through my mouth as I type this ten hours later.

After, we buy these super wearable shirts: “I <3 British Girls” for me, and “I <3 British Boys” for her. In the park, we stuff them into our bags (not because we’re ashamed or anything…) and lie down to read a bit.

Then we start our trek towards Tower Bridge. I hope Abby doesn’t notice this is about to be an hour-long walk, and she’s actually doing quite well until about the end, when I alert her of the distance we’ve gone. That’s how we end up sitting next to the Tower of London for a while, which she doesn’t know is the Tower of London. It’s how we get this gem:

“Addy, can we sit next to this old ass building for one more minute and then we can go.”

“Abby, this is the Tower of London.”

Then she starts taking pictures of it.

But we eventually walk towards the bridge, have no need to go up it, and decide to head towards the Tube after we feel as if we’ve ogled it enough. Back to Trafalgar Square so we can spend more time in the Waterstones. It’s actually mostly so I can buy a Penguin Publishing tote bag with Pride and Prejudice on it; I had gotten jealous of Abby’s throughout the day, which had also been gradually staining her white tank top a bright orange.

We take the Tube back to Kensington, and walk the way to a restaurant called EVE. There’s a meal deal for weekdays—twenty pounds for a shared pizza, bowl of parmesan fries, and a drink each. This sounds like an excellent bargain! It is an excellent bargain! The atmosphere was also incredible—foliage and low, warm lighting coupled with natural light streaming through the plethora of windows. It’s a fantastic way to end our long day.