I regret not being one of those people that takes photos of every meal and posts it to Instagram. It was all the rage in 2013, and I guess I was "too cool," but honestly there was a giant plate of fish-and-chips that we got at a little pub on the busiest street just off of the Westminster Bridge that was 90% bones and I wish I had photographic proof to show that I'm not exaggerating.
It is at this point on the trip that my days get a little jumbled. I'm going to assume my camera remembers the days better than I do, but if you're my wife and reading this (hey babe!) feel free to let me know if that's wrong.
I think we had a pretty normal start to the morning, if you count "burping up the ghosts of some very questionable hot dogs from the night before" as normal. We were specifically told, prior to leaving for London, that the "dodgy dogs" along the Westminster Bridge were an unskippable experience.
All that is to say, our next day was most certainly not spent in the confined, stuffy hotel room.
The Tower of London
This is going to sound dumb, but I thought the Tower of London was – and you're going to laugh at me here – a tower. Apparently it is a sprawling fortress, which is cool but definitely not what my already tired feet were expecting.
There is a tour that you can (and should) do. Bring cash, especially if you are planning to go there in 2013 before anywhere took cards. For the non-time-travelers reading this, you'll also want cash to tip your tour guide.
A big portion of the Tower is dedicated to the history of torture which, as an American living in a post-9/11 world, didn't have the same level of novelty that it did for many of the other visitors.
To some extent, I think the breakneck speed at which we were handling this trip gave it all a sort of unreal quality. That is, I knew we were in a foreign country, vising landmarks, but my brain really struggled with the idea that this entire castle wasn't just thrown together by the Walt Disney Corporation sometime in the last 60 years.
Bumming Around Town
The rest of the day was spent exploring more of the city – both on foot and via the Tube (which the subway, not television).
This is also the moment I made the dumbest mistake of the trip.
For those of you unfamiliar, subways work in a pretty standard way across the globe. They pull up to a station, the doors open automatically, people exit, people enter, the doors close, and the train leaves the station. It's always in that order, and is always in a rather quick fashion. Now, we weren't running particularly late for anything, but as we approached the train it's doors were just about to close. I, being used to transit in American that only comes once in a blue moon, made a mad dash for the doors, rolling into the train car "Indiana Jones"-style. What I failed to account for was that my wife and I were not both on the same page of this plan, which I had concocted only microseconds before, so to my horror the doors closed with her on the other side of them.
This was also the moment I realized we had not discussed a plan if we were to become separated.
My mind raced – do we meet at the next stop? Do we meet at our final destination? Do I transfer at the next station and meet her back where I left her? Our phones didn't have international calling, so I had to think fast! With the myriad of options in front of me, I let my caveman brain – who got me into this – get me out of this. I jammed my fingers into the rubberized seams of the train door, and with all of my might pried the door open. My feeling of stupidity was quickly replaced with one of power, and my brain did everything it could to make sure I didn't remember that these trains are designed to not kill people and probably open with the slightest of pressure.
Sadly, despite my best efforts, we stilled missed closing time on a few sites my wife had planned, but our self-guided walking tour continued.
As sun set and crowds dwindled, we found ourselves braving the Millennium Bridge, with watchful gaze on the horizon for Death Eaters (we were big Harry Potter fans at the time).
I think this was about the time we stumbled, unexpectedly, into the Sherlock Holmes, a pub themed entirely after the Arthur Conan Doyle character. Sadly, I did not get any photos of it, as I spent the entire time both mesmerized by dusty decor and confused by the menu. Overall, an odd experience, and my first introduction into English dining service.
Another day down, and a dozen more blisters.