London and Me, or Two Ships that Almost Passed in the Night: Part 1

I’ve touched some heavy topics like depression, racism and the impact of Richard Armitage’s facial hair. It’s time to move on a lighter topic: London!

I left off blogging about the suspenseful 4th week on medication. Ordinarily this would have been only me and my shrink heaving a sigh of relief as Winston morphed into a pug and hid in my bag. But I also had a long standing problem demanding resolution. In January, I purchased tickets to see two performances of Much Ado About Nothing with David Tennant (my Other Squee) and Catherine Tate in London for the third week of June. In March, my computer fell ill with a virus, causing me to lose about everything including my ticket reservation code and dates. I tentatively planned to leave Saturday, June 18th and spend a week there. But as Winston dragged me down, it became unlikely I had the mental wherewithal to do anything, much less vacation alone in a foreign country even though I’d been there many times. I renewed my passport and had it expensively expedited. I moped and procrastinated and despairingly checked the expensive air fares. My friends asked how I would cope if something bad happened? (My backpack with passport was stolen on an earlier trip.) I suspected not well. Still it galled that I would miss seeing DT and the city I loved.

The 4th week when my medication kicked in was the same week I’d planned to leave. As I sat talking to my shrink on June 16th, an inner voice I’d not heard in a while spoke up. Not sure whether Freud would have called this my id, ego or super ego, but I call her Jada. Jada suggested that since I was so much better the trip could still be salvaged; I could get there in time to see the second show (I was convinced the tickets were for the following Tuesday and Thursday. Remember that, dear reader.) Dr. G. thought this an excellent idea. I thought my chances of finding a relatively decent air fare on short notice was as good as getting the stars’ autographs – meaning nil. (Remember that one too.) That night I found the cheapest fare yet and a Bed & Breakfast to boot. So I booked everything. This was Thursday, June 16th. I was to leave Tuesday night, June 21st. This was my shortest turnaround for a trip ever. I’d never been on a trip alone so that was a bit scary. But I would see DT onstage again and London after all.

I was a happy camper through better chemistry, so I was chuffed.

Next: Travel Trauma!

20 thoughts on “London and Me, or Two Ships that Almost Passed in the Night: Part 1

  1. Don’t leave us hanging too long. Your earlier experience brought back vivid memories. I’ve had my bag with I.D and all money stolen while travelling alone. Yes, I was pretty stupid to have every important thing in that bag, but I didn’t have the worst case scenario in mind when I embarked (I was much younger). Computer failure, anguish over long made plans, solo travel, wondering if the whole thing is a mistake … this is feeling quite familiar! Looking forward to reading more about this trip. It’s amazing how people who have the gumption to blog end up saying what I think a lot of us readers have thought or felt or done. You just manage to put it out there and give us those moments of recognition.

    • Yeah, I know the feeling of travel trauma. But this one gets *really* interesting. Stay tuned!

    • She was both fortunate and unfortunate to have me along on that trip. Fortunate in that I could vouch for her at the US Embassy in London that I’d known her for several years. Unfortunate because I’m a bit, um, perky on trips. “Ooooh! I’ve never been to a police station abroad before!” “Oooooh! I’ve never been to the US Embassy in London before!” ๐Ÿ˜‰

      To this day, I’m glad that she didn’t plot to have me murdered in my sleep that trip.

      • I don’t think the constable would have arrested me had I pounced you, but I played it safe. Eventually I reasoned bumping you off might seem ungrateful for swearing out the affidavit, so I let you live. ๐Ÿ˜‰

  2. If it were me on that trip, I know everything would have gone wrong. So I hope – please do not let us hang in suspense for too long – that it turned out well and fantastic for you. Please !!!
    London is such a miracle and I hope you had a wonderful trip and met with wonderful people on your journey.

    • Hmm, did it or didn’t it? Only those who kept upon Twitter and Facebook know! Yes, I’m evil. ๐Ÿ˜€

  3. Hey, we even may have crossed paths unbeknownst to one another, for I was in London from 23-27 June! ๐Ÿ˜€ Or at least bumped into some of my friends who live in London, for I know two have been to that particular play as well.

    • Oh my goodness, wouldnโ€™t that have been funny? See, thatโ€™s why we should carry a very discreet and tasteful RA bag like CDartโ€™s. That way we can recognize each other when out and about.

      Oh dear, somebody stop me!

  4. Can’t wait for the next installment! And so happy it all worked out. So far, from your account ๐Ÿ™‚ )

    I have been in a police station abroad. In Spain. And I have essentially no Spanish. “Auto vamoos” might work in Mexico, or it’s just cartoon Spanish. French didn’t work, either. Ended up drawing a cartoon for guardia-in-charge to explain our dilemma with rental car. LOVE it when Murphy’s Law works on overseas trips. And all the painstakingly crafted to the nth degree pre-planning goes out the window! So much more exciting than when all goes perfectly. ๐Ÿ˜€

    • We shall see… ๐Ÿ˜‰

      True, I had it easy since I was in English and we share a common language — supposedly. Glad things finally worked out for you. ๐Ÿ™‚

  5. I lost my passport once in Germany. Replacing it was little problem — I went to a rather dusty consulate in Dรผsseldorf. Biggest problem was BF, who was angry because I had robbed him of a day of vacation … but it is stressful, thinking what will happen if they don’t give me a new one?

    • Yes, without ID you are basically a woman without a country. And I had no identity at all except for a birth certificate and a copy of the first page of my passport. It’s a weird feeling.

  6. The headaches of losing a passport. I haven’t. Yet. But I’ve twice had to contend with govt. to prove my citizenship. (only fifth gen. Canadian, but not born the country, and have dual Brit/Cdn citizenship – since 9/11, have dreaded twice, renewing the passport. The passport is me. I’ve not applied for a British passport, but I check every so often with the High Commission here, just to make sure they’ll take me, if all else fails. Not about to be without nationality. And I resent this. I’m Canadian.)

    Judiang, I travel with a six inch X six in. purse, which with zippers and pockets, holds all my identity. It has a long adjustable shoulder strap, and can be hidden under your top. It’s worked well so far.

    Next installment, please of your London adventure – ๐Ÿ˜€

  7. Pingback: London and Me or Play It Again Sam

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