I Used The Men's Room In Brussels.

My buddy, who has earned a variety of nicknames lately, (My current most-used nickname for him "Hunchy Bear" which I created while trying to say Honey/Monkey/Buddy Bear.) surprised me with a New Years Trip to London.
And at first, I thought it was a joke.
But the boyish grin on his cute little face convinced me that he was in fact telling the honest to buddha truth.
Only catch? We were traveling caravan style on a charter bus.

Before I knew it, we were standing in the snow in front of the chapel, waiting with other shiver-ers for our bus. We scored the other front row seats on the top level of the bus, So we had a clear view of the road, and the motion sickness was cut way down to zip.
Nothing but nothing could prepare us for a 10 hour bus trip across Europe on a bus full of soldiers. At about 12am, I was roused from slumber by two disgruntled soldiers in each others faces. Yelling obsenities at each other, and just before it came to blows, someone came to the rescue and seperated the feuding duo.
Mike woke up and tried to stand up and then said "What's going on?"

Shortly after that, I watched as we blazed (however much 'blazing' you can do at 100 kph) past the sign Nederlands. I smiled. Out of Germany, finally.
I fell asleep and woke up in Brussels. I had no idea when we'd even gotten to Belgium. I just NEEDED to use the bathroom. And I needed 70 euro cents and quick.
I rushed into the bathroom and to my surprise, the bathroom break was a freebie. I wiped the sleep from my eyes just to insure I wasn't dreaming. Then I saw it. Yellow tape over the women's room. All that was available was a Handi and the mens room.
The handi was occupied in a situation very similar to a woman in the movie The Sweetest Thing.
Our "tour guide" a long haired non-rick steves said "Don't worry, I'll hold the line. Go on in." And he motioned to the mens room.
It was dark in there. Dark and intimidating.
There was artwork that I couldn't read, and didn't even want to try to GUESS at the I'm sure Foul Words that adorned the shakey stall walls.

I imerged a changed more jaded woman.

But no less, we were still enroute to Jolly ol'...and I couldn't wait. I was chomping at the bit to step into London. The city I'd dreamed of over and over again as a little girl.

I fell asleep again and woke up just in time to see the Welcome to France sign. I got adrenaline rush. I felt like dancing up and down the aisle of the bus singing "I could've danced allll night!" there I was, in FRANCE. In FRANCE. Who cares if it wasn't Paris. That will come in due time...but France! I thought half way of waking up my snoring Sumie. But I was just too excited. I took it all in. The little houses, the farmland, the factories...all from the light of street lights because really at 4 in the morning, how much light is there?

When we made it to the ferry, my excitement grew. There, as we crossed the channel and England came into view, stood the gorgeous white cliffs of Dover.
I got another stamp in my passport welcoming to me England.
We'd made it.
There we were driving on the wrong side of the road, right into London.
There was no sun light, only foggy overcast. I wanted to cry as we got to London. The houses all lined up, early birds up to get their coffee, tea, donuts, whatever were walking across the zebra crossings. And all I wanted to do was cry. I was THAT excited.
And when our bus went into the city I took it all in. I pointed excitedly to St. Paul's.

We weren't aware that our tour began...immediately. No showers, no freshening up because hotel check in wasn't until 2pm. And here we are at 7am rolling into London, tourists sardine can style.
I chose to wear pj's on the overnight trip. Because...well who wouldn't? It was, after all, most comfortable.

So, when we got off the bus, there I was, in a sleep shirt, and loungie pants, and winter boots. Basically not the outfit I wanted to wear when I first stood under Big Ben. But even the lack of 'real' clothes didn't extinguish my exhuberance.
We walked past Big Ben, West Minster Abbey, into St. Jame's Park where everything was green, and there were swans swimming as though it's no-big deal. I skipped when I saw the Diana Princess of Wales Memorial Trail Marker.
How could I be anything but speechless as the guards on horseback trotted past us on the way to Buckingham Palace?

Standing there by the Palace I'd seen in my many many royal books, I said "Wow. The Balcony isn't as high as I thought it would be." I stood there staring at my childhood dreams. I thought to myself, If someone would've told me when I was a little girl that I'd be standing right by Buckingham Palace....well, I'd feel just as excited then as I do right now.

The good news about our trip, is Michael and I ditched the tour group. For a variety of reasons..the first being...we didn't want to be limited on what we could see/do in our limited time. AND there was a girl on the tour that when she saw ANYTHING with the name Victoria on it she had to ask "But where is the Secrets"
Honestly, we didn't want to deal with the stupidity on this trip...we wanted to mingle with Brits. We wanted to walk down little side streets, we wanted to Mind the Gap, and climb to the Whispering Gallery.

In our few days there we managed to eat fish and chips, see Queen Elizabeth I's tomb, stand where Diana's coffin was during her funeral, Stand in the exact spot where Fergie married Andrew and where William will marry Kate (Everyone gently corrected me calling her Catherine.)
We climbed the stairs of St. Paul's just the same ones Diana climbed on her wedding day. We walked hand in hand down the long aisle at St. Paul's to stand exactly where she curtisied to the queen on that day.
We watched street shows in Trafalgar Square, ate Mcdonald's standing outside the crowded Piccadilly Circus McD's.
I walked the soles off my boots. Happily.

In St. Paul's while we bought a little souvenir bird and plaque, a man said "Where's home?" (Mike & I agreed to say we were from Maryland since being from two different places takes longer to answer that question)
Once we started talking to him, we told him we were actually from Georgia and Seattle. He then began telling us about our respective football teams. It was really awesome to get football updates from a British guy. We smiled about that for days.

Our New Years eve we found ourselves right by the River Thames across from the Eye of London. We enjoyed watching crazy people dancing, all the funny hats, and generally taking part in the good cheer. The fireworks were absolutely unreal. I got misty eyed when everyone sang Auld Lange Syne.

One thing is certain. I did not want to return to Bamberg. I loved England. I loved the friendly faces. I truly loved not having to 'think' about the words to use, the conjugation of verbs before ordering food, or talking to people.

But we did have to come back to Bamberg, where snow mounds awaited, and dreams of London hung like fog in our hearts and minds.