Before heading to London, Julie had tipped us off about the "Quiet Train". It is a beautiful thing, that. It costs the same as the regular coach tickets, but there are no screaming children allowed or yappy peeps on their phones talking about nothing really, really loudly. I might ride public transportation in Minneapolis again if that were an option! The ride was only 2 hours, and soon we were strolling along the platforms at King's Cross station. This famous station is huge and also another Harry Potter thing. There is a little shop there called Platform 9 3/4 where you can buy all sorts of cool Harry Potter stuff, and there's even a trolley with an owl cage on top smashing into the wall that kids (or adults obsessed with Harry Potter, ahem) can pose with and have their photo taken! It was super cool! We picked up a couple of birthday gifties for my niece, a fan of the series, and whose birthday is this week! WOOT! Kid is turning 13, I can barely believe it.
Our little hotel here in London is really cool. Like Ellingsen's Pensjonet, this hotel is very tiny, but really nice. It's only a couple blocks away from King's Cross off on a little quiet street and very secure. The British Library is also two blocks away, so we went there right away and found a whole exhibit on punk rock of the 1970s which was absolutely awesome. Then we checked out the Treasures of the British Library room which had original works from many authors and musicians, including Shakespeare, Charles Dickens, Beethoven, Mozart, Oscar Wilde and the Beatles, among many others. They were closing at 5 and made no bones about the fact, stern security guards pointing to the exit, so we then wandered around looking for a place for an early dinner since we skipped lunch. We ended up at a little cafe that was quiet and a bit fancy and ordered a couple of beers and a Ploughman's Platter, which was olives, pickled caperberries, field greens, ham, turkey, liver pate, breads, butter, and an incredible apricot chutney that I might try to find a similar recipe to make at home. We took a detour on the way back to the hotel to check out the hotel where we stayed on our honeymoon, sure enough, it is still there!
A bit of a rest at the hotel, then we were off to see Star Trek: Beyond in Leicester Square. We saw Star Trek: First Contact in London back in 1995! The movie was great, but very intense in 3D. Leicester Square was INSANE. Monday is a Bank Holiday here, so the whole city was out partying, musicians busking everywhere (here, buskers are auditioned and given time slots to play in tube stations and on the streets so it's less of a panhandle and more of a regular gig kind of thing), and neon lights on full throttle. Upon leaving the movie, my senses heightened a bit too much from the intensity and the crowd so thick it made my world view into a sort of shrinking bubble, my window of tolerance collapsed when an aggressive dude in the tube station shoved an umbrella between my legs below my knees and was almost on top of my back in order to sneak into the train station without paying. That was it for me. I made it back to the hotel without breaking, but once inside, I broke into sobs as John held me. I have become more open about the fact that I was treated for PTSD (post-traumatic-stress-disorder) back in the mid-80s, after years of keeping quiet about it. It is an incredibly difficult condition to learn to manage, and there are certain things that trigger the heightened fear response with such sudden ferocity that it feels near impossible to reign in the runaway panic train inside. While I couldn't help the visceral responses that accompany this condition (shaking, chills, sweating, hyperventilation, etc.) I have learned how to manage them more quickly and breathe myself into a calmer state. It's been a long time since I've had to employ them. John kept me close and talked to me calmly as we boarded the train, navigated more thick swells of people in the station and on the way back to the hotel. I felt I could breathe again when we turned onto our street, and into the safety of the hotel. I shake now to recount the story, but I feel a sort of responsibility to speak more openly about psychological conditions that receive so much stigma, like PTSD and depression (which I have dealt with all of my life.) I believe that no one should have to suffer through pain alone, that it is extremely important for someone to "bear witness" to the suffering of others. When I was going through the worst of it, no one had ever heard of PTSD, and nor did they want to hear about it. Now with so much violence in our country, you're likely to know many people struggling with it these days.
(Again, I'll post photos later. There are MANY photos! More later!)
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