Take Me Home, Country Roads

[ By Michael ]
To the place I belong, California, Pacific shore-a, take me home, skyway roads. And just like that we were home. Well, not actually just like that; no, there was a bit of Europe bidding us to stay in our final hours of the year’s centerpiece (figurativelyand literally). Our last few days in Paris were spent resting, organizing, washing, preparing and searching for the best crepe offering in town. In our final Parisian hour, having gorged ourselves on crepes and direly scouring the city for all of the speculoospasta available, the sky went boom! and suddenly rain. What a wet mess it was getting out of central Paris as throngs of people stood huddled beneath every overhang and in every subway terminal as the European sky bawled and bellowed at our impending departure.

Depart we did, however, on a long, restless journey that saw us subway it to a bus depot, bus it to a cargo train, train it (in the bus) beneath the English channel, bus it to London Victoria, bus it to Gatwick, plane it to NYC via Reykjavik, train it to New York only to hit a travel wall.

Between London Victoria and Gatwick, we were provided with approximately six hours of London sightseeing, which after a necessary nap on the Victoria Station floor, was nearer to three hours. We set out into The Smoke (which was hardly smoky at all) and took on Monday morning London. As I had never been there, Ali found it pertinent to see the sights worth seeing within three hours. Out from Victoria Station, we headed North up Buckingham Palace Road, hung out at the fountain, observed the guards, headed East beneath the canopy of The Mall to Trafalgar Square, hung out with the lion statues, observed the double-decker busses, headed South down Whitehall to Parliament, walked out onto Westminster Bridge and spent some time taking in the Eye , Parliament and its Big crown, headed West across Westminster Abbey, down Victoria St and back to the coach station just in time to catch our bus to Gatwick, leaving London peacefully intact, sunny and beautiful. Again, leaving London peacefully intact.

Our sleepless 9 hour return flight took us through Reykjavik to Newark, on the NYC bound train, to a subway station only to find the service stopped. Detouring through Brooklyn, after three hours back to our lodging near Wall Street, we immediately laid down for a long nap. Upon waking; London was burning. We had missed the riots by six hours! We’re going to go with fortuitous.

NYC was dazzling as always as we sought out the Belgian food we couldn’t afford in Brugge and continued our beer odyssey. We visited Wall Street the day of a 400 point drop to witness the disheveled, disheartened brokers peeling out of there like withered petals falling from a dead stem. Many people were there to apparently witness the same melodrama. We walked around the WTC Site, saw the progress they have finally made on the structure, made a gift drop and started a long, painful journey to Newark that was littered with station closures, line shutdowns, reroutes through public transportation systems we didn’t even know existed, overpriced cab fare and oh, an opened sky of cascading, summer showers. NYC, it would appear, didn’t care to see us go either. Were we ready? Probably not, but we boarded our flight to Orange County anyway and ended the best Summer Vacation of our lives. Europe 2011 – 9 Countries, 26 cities, 2 people, 1 love.