We ventured on a high speed train on Monday, with my dad, to London. It was a lot like any metropolitan city; busy, diverse and unique. We saw all the must-sees; Big Ben, The Parliament, Buckingham Palace, the guards, the black taxi cabs (we rode twice) and the famous red telephone booths.
My favourite was the art museum and more-so, the street artist outside. The art work was thoroughly impressive. One gentleman drew all the world flags in chalk, it was stunning to say the least! We amazed phenomenal chalk art, floating yodas, and musicians. There is a large arrangement of talent in the arts circling our world that goes unnoticed. I wonder how certain talents break big. The creative gene is astonishing, but try telling that to a bill collector.
We ran through London quickly and just as quick the girls were exhausted. Sexton parents, what do you want to do? The girls all wanted to do the big Ferris wheel. The line ridiculous. Steve to me, what do you want to do? My brisk response, I’ve always wanted to go to Notting Hill. Impulsively. we flagged a taxi. As soon as we popped in, taxi driver, where do you want to go? Unison, Notting Hill. Really? There’s a carnival there today. Happy turn to the girls, see you can ride a ferris wheel and get cotton candy. That is so neat. That is so fun. Taxi driver, you know there is about a million people there today? My heart and stomach did sink a little and I can imagine my fellow’s frustration.
It was quite busy getting there. A lot of people tickled the streets thickly. It was a clogged drain pipe. Steve, you can just park here and we’ll walk the rest of the way. We walked through a mountain of diversity. I loved the mix of culture and the mix of fashion. Big and small everyone was rocking their apparel. BUT! We were walking down the street in the opposite direction of the cool crown looking for the carnival. Little did we know we were in the centre of the carnival. A carnival in England is quite different than my experience in the USA. It’s a large street party filled with liquid diets. A big drunk fest.
We walked through the crowd, honestly it was the MOST claustrophobic feeling I have ever had. A coffin. The worst MRI. I could not breath. I was worried about Kate holding my hand and losing her. She’s my little buddy.
Finally we broke through the crowd and stepped to a side street so we could literally catch our breath. Steve was I think politely–aggravated. He spoke, so where do you want to go? Thought bubble: I don’t know I’m impulsive. And what I spun and heard from him, what exactly did you want to happen? Thought bubble: I want to find an old world book store and meet Hugh Grant. As I’m thumbing through travel guides, I want Julia Roberts to bust in and say, I’m just a girl standing in front of a guy asking him to love her.
Reality–I simply spoke, oh you know I just want to see the lovely row houses and neighbourhoods here. Oh look, this street does look lovely. Let’s take a good look. As I walked down the cobble stone streets with an Oscar in my hand for best lead actress, I could not comment enough how unbelievable this experience surmounted. For the full effect I kept taking pictures of the houses on this particular street. I photoed doors, the girls in front of houses and alleys. I smiled. I was delighted, despite, not caring one bit. I put on a front that my heart desired nothing more. What I wanted is the movie, Notting Hill, one of my favorites. What I got was Notting Not.
We stopped at Notting Hill per my request for the same reason we stopped at Laguana Beach in California per my request;)
Abbey Row 