Allie Goes Global

Well, here we are. The final day of my trip. Sixteen days roaming around England, endless churches, an injury, plans falling apart and coming back together, and (as of now) enough to say about it to merit 17 blog posts. As I said in the beginning, I’m a yapper.

I started this day with one final reservation: brunch at Lantana, just down the street from my hotel. I had a pork belly benedict that I still think about to this day. Lantana is billed as being Australian, but I didn’t notice anything in particular that would lead me to think that. It is, however, an excellent brunch spot. Highly recommend.

I went back to my hotel, grabbed my luggage, and checked out. I had booked a private car to take me to the airport. It’s an expense I didn’t plan on, but with the sprained foot still affecting everything, it seemed necessary. The tube station closest to my hotel had a bunch of stairs, I now had a rolling suitcase, and that combination just seemed like a recipe for disaster. Plus, I was promised a relaxing experience in a luxury car, delivering me effortlessly to the airport. Who wouldn’t want that?

The car was fine, and that was the end of the description being accurate. The way that man drove was so terrifying, I ended up silently praying for a while. He refused to sit in traffic, so he decided to route around it. This involved, among other things, going 60 miles an hour the wrong way down a one way street. I did, however, arrive at Heathrow in one piece, on time, and didn’t have to lift my own luggage, so that’s all a plus. The driver got a nice tip.

There’s not much to say after that. I went through security, got to my gate, flew for 12 hours, then two hours in a shuttle bus, then another hour via car to get home. It makes for a very long day.

So, to put a bow on things: I’m glad, really, that I’m taking the time to write this months later. When my mom picked me up from the shuttle, she asked if I had a nice time, and my answer was an emphatic no. But in the months that have passed, the things that bugged me or that didn’t go according to plan have really faded into the background. When I think about this trip now, I think about how beautiful Chester Cathedral was. I remember the man in Cambridge who I had such an enjoyable conversation with. Sure, I remember my hotel in York being so bad that I had to leave early, but it’s just a funny story now, and it led to me meeting some of the nicest people at the hotel that I relocated to.

This trip was a lot of firsts for me. It was my first time in England. It was my first time solo traveling in any meaningful way. My first time building an itinerary for such a long trip. I can’t even begin to enumerate the things that I’ve learned and can apply to future trips. I don’t regret almost anything that happened (sprained foot notwithstanding) because I learned from it.

As of writing this post, I’ll be back in England in exactly five months, and I’ll get a chance to re-do a lot of things that I missed. I’ve planned a lot less packed itinerary with more general exploration time. I won’t be doing any driving this time (you’re welcome, people of England). In the meantime, I’ve been doing so much traveling that I’m so happy to be able to share with you all. I’ve done three more domestic trips, plus one international trip. I have another trip coming up next month. I’m learning how to find the joy in traveling, even when things don’t go to plan. I can’t wait to share all of my adventures with you.