Friday to London

Less than three days in London was not nearly enough time to experience all the attractions that the world city boasts, nor was it enough time to see Erik after 6 months or Susan, John, Lia, and Sonia after over a year. Before this weekend, I last saw Erik in July before he left for home and then for the London School of Economics for the Year. His summer long lobbying while he sublet in our apartment was a huge factor in my decision to study abroad. I last saw my cousin Susan, her husband John, and Lia (nearly 5) and Sonia (2) at the Alves Family Reunion (AFR) 2009, since they could not make the earlier date last summer.

My Ryan Air flight left Dublin on Friday after 7:15pm, due to a paperwork delay. Despite the reviews given by many of my friends, I found their service to be more than worth the low price paid. The lack of assigned seats reminded me of Southwest with the added social experiment of no queue numbers beyond the distinction between priority and general passengers. Even so, everyone was content to remain seated and read/listen to music. That was until an older couple asked to find the queue, went to the front, and seconds later everyone jumped from their seats to form a line behind them.

In the line I spoke with an Irish lady a few years older than me who graduated from Trinity in a science field that I can no longer remember, but had a sizable number of syllables. As a mark of globalization and my generation's shared experiences, we talked about American television and her love of Arrested Development.

On board the plane I secured a window seat in the third or fourth row from the front. While waiting for a paperwork delay to be resolved, I continued to read the Irish novel 'One by One in the Darkness' by Deirdre Madden. It was left by the Americans living in my apartment last fall, and recounts a week in the life of a Northern Irish family just before the ceasefire and spliced by flashback chapters. Despite the suggestion by Ryan Air that they would turn off the lights during the flight - 'as is customary for night flights' - they were soon back on, and remained on for the majority of the less than one hour trip. During which, they attempted to sell drinks, meals, newspapers, scratch tickets, and a variety of other gifts and items.

Regardless of the salesmanship, the flight was quick and we landed at Luton-London Airport. Although the London tag is similar to Baltimore-Washington in distance from the latter city, but different in the suburban nature of Luton. Nevertheless, I had booked an Easy Bus from Luton to Victoria Station, and was soon on may way into downtown London.

After just under an hour, we arrived at Victoria Station, or more accurately on a street near the station. Earlier in the day, Erik suggested that I take the 38 Bus direct to his dorm on Rosebury Avenue or the Underground to Angel Station followed by a few blocks walk to his place. Rather than take the buses that looked like replica Dublin buses, I wandered the street to the Station, entered the Underground, and was welcomed by a convoluted map of crisscrossing lines that stretched throughout the city in all directions.

Fortunately a Englishman helped me purchase my 4 pound one-way ticket to Angel Station. The tube is divided into zones, with trips priced by the number of zones traveled. Erik's dorm room was within zone one, as are many of the famous tourist attractions along the Thames. Of course, once I purchased my ticket, I needed to figure out which line held Angel and the fastest way to get there.

As a result of the complicated layout of the map, it took me a few minutes to figure out the location of Angel, on the Northern 'black' line. The lack of color names for the lines was frustrating at first, but by the time I reached Erik's stop via the roundabout way of the District 'green' Line to Monument and then switched to the Northern Line to Angel, I had a good grasp of the system. Still, I realized (on Sunday) that taking the delayed Victoria line to Euston on the Northern Line would have made the trip considerably quicker.

No trip to the Underground would be complete without a picture of this phrase

Full London Album

Arriving at Angel, I remembered my clear directions to take a left down Islington High Street, to continue onto St. Johns Street, to turn right at Rosebury Ave, to walk past Sadlers Well's Theatre on my right and to enter Rosebury Hall on my left. They were simple directions, only made complicated by hidden street signs (like Dublin) high on the sides of buildings. Still, I purchased a 4.50 pound takeaway Chinese buffet box, a delicious dinner at nearly midnight, and was soon at the dorm.

The moment I arrived at Angel, I sent a text to Erik that I was nearly there, and that I would text again when I got to his hall. Later, I realized that despite the 'Welcome to the UK' text message sent to my Nokia Vodafone, none of my messages were successful (nor my calls). Even so, I entered the hall, and talked to the front desk receptionist just as Erik was walking into the lobby to see if I had arrived.

In his dorm, reminiscent of a typical American University double - with the added benefit of a personal sink, I met his roommate Rickard, from Sweden, but a student at AU. As I set down my belongings, I sat down on their extra mattress and ate my buffet. In the meantime Erik continued to work on an essay for which he was granted a 24-hour extension, and later showed me a map of the city and gave me a general idea of places to see while he continued to write on Saturday.