London Town

4 min read

On a sunny spring morning in May uncharacteristic of London, I was greeted by Richard outside of a tube station few blocks from their Hyde Park flat coming from a short detour in Dublin. I asked where Dann and Vanessa were only to discover their whereabouts a few seconds later when they had successfully scared the crap out of me by jumping out of their hiding spot beneath a restaurant sign board. It was very reminiscent of the things we did when we were 10, except twenty years later I would realize not much has changed.

It was the first time since college that the three of us were together again in the same place but we so casually picked up were we left off as if no time had passed in between. It was surreal, we all thought. When you come from a small town like ours, London was the kind of place you only read about in English literature or know of from distant relatives who send the occasional holiday postcards. Bonus points from the one or two visiting foreign students whose accents resemble that of Harry Potter or Hermione Granger. Our hearts beamed with pride at the thought that we have finally and successfully elevated our catwalk from the humble grounds of NDMU-IBED to the fashionable streets of West End. The quintessential story of small town kids conquering big cities. How far we’ve come, I thought.

We were joined by Vanessa’s cousins KC and Patrick on this trip. It was not surprising to me that these gentlemen’s antics complemented our particular brand of crazy. I’ve known KC for quite a while and we’ve traveled together on several occasions. In fact, I’m fairly sure he holds a thing or two on me that he could easily use for blackmail. We have not killed each other on any of those trips thus far so I suppose all is good. Patrick, on the other hand, I had no idea what to expect. He turned out to be quite a crack, harboring a quiet sense of humor that delivered punchlines at unexpected moments. It was unfortunate that he could only join us in London and not in the succeeding legs of the journey. We lost a drinking comrade to the woes of a third world passport. How unjust.

We took advantage of the pleasant weather to explore the city mostly on foot, stopping every so often so we could wait for the lads to finish capturing material for the vlog that for some reason never materialized. Endowed with a history that spans two millennia, the city’s layout and architecture boast both modern and archaic against the backdrop of the river Thames.

As a visitor, there are a million things that will surely keep one occupied. But with only a couple of days left in the city, we decided not to cram too much. Instead, we opted to go about the remaining days doing things the British way like sit in parks tacitly judging people, have roast beef for dinner or watch the Game of Thrones finale properly with a glass or two of wine. We always had rice for breakfast though therefore not so bloody British after all. Except KC because he apparently can’t think of the mushrooms on his English breakfast without getting his mouth water. He couldn’t stop gushing about the mushrooms. For all I know he could be talking about the other kind.

What I enjoyed most about this trip was not so much the sightseeing, but the farcical nature of my friends. A seemingly innocent trip to the department store, or walk around Notting Hill, or a meal in a restaurant ended up being scenes cut straight out of a comedy show. While I do feel comfortable traveling on my own, nothing still beats good company. I mean, if you only knew the length Patrick went through to achieve the following iconic casket look. Wow.

This obviously candid moment captured on camera…

And of course my all time favorite… (Gigi, Bella and Kendall kabahan na kayo!)

When I first visited London in 2016, I thought to myself that it wouldn’t be the last. True enough, I found myself back again three years later creating more memories that would unwittingly come in handy through this pandemic. I look forward to visiting again in the near future!