London Town

It’s the Holiday season!  My favorite time of year!  Thanksgiving and Christmas.  Food and Presents.  Cold weather and cute clothes.  What’s not to love?  It’s also a special time of year for Kevin and I as we get ready to celebrate our 1-year wedding anniversary.  This time last year we were tying up all the loose ends and preparing for our big day and now we’re preparing to jet set across the country to spend Thanksgiving and our anniversary in Denver Colorado.  Home to the Denver Broncos and what we hope to be delicious food and fun times.

As you know, Kevin’s spirit animal is a plane, boat or train.  He loves to travel.  I love that I get to tag along, even though I’m admittedly a very whiney traveler.  I’m basically a child and unless I’m fed, bathed and napped, I will probably be grumpy at times.  Travel isn’t my forte, but I love being with him nonetheless.

Over the summer we spent 2 weeks in Europe which was quite an adventure.  We went to London, Scotland, Amsterdam and France.


After an overnight flight direct from Orlando to London, we arrived groggy from all the wine and xanax necessary to sleep on an 8-hour flight.  We got checked into our adorable little flat, where I changed clothes and put on a brand new pair of converse.  At the time I thought I looked awesome, but neglected to consider sightseeing in brand new shoes.  London is a fairly walkable city, so we walked.  And we walked.  And we walked.  I ended the day with blisters on every toe.  Day 1 Fail.

Day 2, I spent in flip-flops.  More comfortable?  Yes.  But the looks I received from the locals were furrowed brows of confusion.  Given that I was the only person in the entire city wearing flip-flops, the dirty looks were justified.  I’m the dummy. I get it.  That evening, new comfy shoes were purchased.  We saw Les Miserables on Broadway which was so incredibly amazing.  I can’t say enough good things about it.

Our third day in London we had the greatest experience of our entire trip and it’s one I must get into in great detail.  While visiting with some of Kevin’s friends he’d met during his many travels, it was recommended that we do a proper tea.  One place in particular they raved about.  We made a reservation and at the time I didn’t think anything of putting down our credit card to secure the reso.  In hindsight, we should have seen this as a gigantic red flag.  Given that this was a casual trip and most of our time was spent walking around enjoying London, we dressed in clothes befitting of walking.  Basically, workout clothes.  Kevin had on jeans and a hoodie with converse and I think I was wearing tennis shoes, yoga pants and a t-shirt.  We arrived at our proper tea.  The entrance was covered in flowers which we admired as we approached the hostess stand.  We informed the hostess we had reservations and she ushered us farther into the establishment.  “Why is the staff so dressed up?  Why is everyone in suits and ties?  Should I have worn my ball gown?  BOLLOCKS!”  We had to proceed because we’d be charged for the full service if we didn’t.  We walked down some steps through the “champagne parlor”  (Yes, thats right.  A champagne parlor) and into the room to the right.  Oh, how to describe the room to the right?  It was pink.  The walls were pink, the chairs were pink.  There were chandeliers.  It was every little girls tea time dream come true.  Obviously, Kevin and I stuck out like a sore thumb.  We weren’t dressed for tea, but rather, a jog.  I played it cool and Kevin completely stopped talking.  I was now married to a mute and I was on my own to repair this disaster.  We were seated next to an elderly couple who gave us similar looks to the ones I received while wearing flip-flops.  I wanted to say, “Oh don’t mind us…  I mistakenly packed my ball gown in my OTHER bag….  Trust me, I would have fit right in”  We were given the menus and after a quick once over, I was convinced we’d been given the wrong menu.  “$100 per person for Tea?!  Is this for real?”  Since Kevin was suffering from sudden onset muteness, I had to tell the waitress we’d been misinformed and thought we could have a spot of tea for a couple bucks, not a tea and crumpet feast that would cost as much as an actual ball gown.  We gathered our things, gave dirty looks back to the elderly couple and were ushered into the front parlor with all the normal people having tea.  We were still underdressed, but we were out of the twilight zone, so we felt a little better.

We enjoyed our tea and then Kevin had to pee.  He was gone for about 5 minutes and came back and told me I had to go to the bathroom.  I told him if I had to walk back into the cotton candy pink room filled with dirty looks and disgust, I’d hold it.  Again, he said, I had to go to the bathroom.  I thought this was weird, but knew it’d be something worth the walk of shame.  I cooly and casually walked back through the room and up the stairs (yup) to the next set of stairs to the bathroom.  Remember in Willie Wonka when they walk into the factory for the first time through the very tiny shrinking door?  That’s the best way I can describe this bathroom.  I’ll save the description because I won’t do it justice.  Here’s a picture of the pink parlor and bathroom.  Classic…. HAPPY THANKSGIVING EVERYONE!



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