Last Stop: London, England

When I was deciding on a title for this blog, I knew I was starting my trip in Sydney, Australia, and while my plan was to end up in London, England (as detailed by the blog byline) I was still hedging my bets with "Sydney-to-Somewhere" just in case something came up to change my final destination. As well, I was drawn by the obvious alliteration - "Sydney-to-London" just doesn't have the same ring to it. But, despite a rather vague and at times nonexistent itinerary, I have finally arrived in London.

I enjoyed my second-last day in Dublin getting a large dose of culture along with Madeline and Amy, two Trans-Mongolian friends whose travels had brought them to Dublin at the same time as me. Walking through both the Natural Museum of Ireland and the National Art Gallery of Ireland, I didn't have the time to come even close to soaking it all in, but the odd exhibit stuck with me. What I most enjoyed was learning a bit about the extensive viking culture that existed in Ireland so far into the past - in fact it was out of a viking settlement that the modern city of Dublin arose.

Back at my hostel another day, I woke up and walked across the hall to the showers, not bothering to bring along change of clothes and instead just grabbing my shower stuff and a towel. On the return trip, I could plainly see that the door that I had left open had been closed, and after knocking for a while, I realized whoever had done it hadn't done it on the way into the room. Standing in the hallway with nothing but a towel, I headed down the stairs, hoping that I would run into someone with a keycard before I had to walk into the lobby and ask for help. Unfortunately that is exactly what I had to do, and the lobby was full of a group of about thirty new faces. I feigned nonchalance and the desk clerk was quick, and I was soon hopping back up the stairs with reddish face. From the stories I have heard from other travelers who frequent hostels, walking around in a towel is often considered the height of modesty, so I doubt anyone was as uncomfortable as me.

On Monday I picked up my ticket to London, and boarded the bus out of Dublin at 8:15 PM. Apparently there are no Dublin to London services during the day, which made the overnight trip my only option. The Irish leg of the bus trip was short, but the ferry ride to Wales was considerably longer than the ferry I had taken from Scotland to Northern Ireland, and when we reached the UK I was exhausted, especially as I had started my day much earlier than I have been in the habit of doing. We all got off the bus after a ten-minute ride to customs, and then waited in haphazard lines as we shuffled past the cheery British officials. Back in Britian, I dozed off intermittently before we rolled into the Victoria Coach station twelve hours after we had departed Dublin. Yawning, I purchased a week's pass on London public transit and then made my way to my hostel in Greenwich. I stored my bag in expectation for the afternoon check-in and then walked down to the park, spending most of my time on a bench watching the clouds scuttle quickly across the sky, enjoying the rapidly shifting combinations of sun and shade on the Thames while thinking deep thoughts.

With a week to explore London and the surrounding area before heading home, I am excited to catch my flight back to Canada but at the same time I have gotten pretty used to this unsustainable habit of world traveling. A bed that will allow me to strech out and permanent access to laundry facilities are big draws, but they don't quite eclipse the allure of crossing a border and hearing another new language or sitting down for a pint with someone with a background so different from my own.