London Calling

Chapter 3

That lens consumed 2 months worth of my allowance! Arrgghh. My parents did buy me photography gadgets but that didn’t mean I can get everything I wanted.

I thought it was already a great first day. I made friends and I didn’t eat lunch in a toilet cubicle. Then that boy happened and my day was ruined. I very-well understood it was an accident but he didn’t have to scowl at me like it was entirely my fault! Watch where I am going? Huh! How about you stop running with your eyes closed?! Okay. I may be overacting a little bit. BUT STILL! It was my lens! My poor lens.

I had been experiencing half-anxiety attacks since lunch and it was during times like this I needed Andrew the most. I needed to rant at him but it was just 3 in the afternoon which means he was probably still dreaming in his bed. I remembered one time back in junior year of High School when this professor put me on detention because I was late for 2 freaking minutes and how I ranted about it for days. Of course, Andrew just listened. Nothing I said made sense but he listened. He always just did.

I was back in my hotel room, packing my things up again. I banished all the negative thoughts away from my head. I didn’t want to meet my flat mate with hot steam blowing out of my nostrils. But I wasn’t going to meet her until another hour and a half. Mr. Simons sent me an email saying I couldn’t move in until 5 in the afternoon. So for the mean time, I went online and searched for the top things to do in London. I wasn’t feeling the rush though. After all, I was going to be here for the next 2 years or so.

First that popped on the list was, of course, the Big Ben. The first time I saw this tower was in Peter Pan and I had always dreamed of flying by it just like Wendy, which was ironic because I was never good with heights. Then there was the London Eye, the Buckingham Palace, and the list went on. I could almost imagine myself taking photos of these beautiful landscapes. I also wondered if I’d ever get a glimpse of the Royal Family. Do they really look like royalties?

It wasn’t long until the hotel receptionist gave me a call to let me know the cab had arrived. I quickly stuffed the laptop in my bag and grabbed my coat. Time to meet my new home and a new friend!

“Hello, Madam. How are you doing?” The cab driver smiled at me through the rear view mirror the moment I hopped in.

“I’m good. Thank you for asking, sir,” I also replied with a smile.   

London was beyond beautiful. I didn’t think I’d ever stop saying that. The city was very cosmopolitan and the architectures were breathtaking. We passed by the Tower Bridge and I almost felt like Hallie, yes, the young Lindsey Lohan before she got into rehab, from The Parent Trap.

The amount of tourists on the streets was also noticeable. It almost made feel just like one. But I wasn’t just a tourist. I was also dreamer.

I was so busy picturing my future days in London when the cab driver spoke.

“We’re here, Madam,” the cab driver gleefully said.

I peeked outside. You know how things always looked better in photos than how it actually looked like? Well, that had always been the truth. I remembered the front of this flat in the photo posted online. It had a Victorian design and it was white. Blindingly white it almost kind of assured me it was a very well maintained infrastructure.

While the flat I was currently looking at, well, looked like the one in the picture, this one looked older. A lot older. Or maybe they just needed to do some repainting? Yeah. That must be it. This faded white paint did not mean it isn’t maintained and well structured. It must be well built that’s why it lasted for years right? And it wasn’t like earthquakes frequently hit London. Right?