Backpacking the United Kingdom
London
London
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here I was, aboard a South African Airways flight
destined for London. I was traveling alone, sitting next to woman who claimed
to be a relative of Roald Dahl. I listened to her yarn with a pinch of salt,
eyeing the many empty plastic wine bottles lying on her food tray. The flight
was comfortable; the food was bearable (for flight food) and I sat back
anticipating the many adventures that lay ahead of me. I handed over my own
empty plastic wine bottles to the well-mannered stewardess, as I decided to question
‘Ms Relative of Dahl’ on the fantastic life of her supposed kin. What made this
flight all the more easier, was that I scored my tickets cheaply, using my favorite booking engine (no awards for guessing the site).
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| Grabbing a quick coffee before my flight |
My 21st birthday present was a backpacking
trip to London. I had asked my parents
to spare me from an extravagant birthday party and the associated agony of
family speeches and suit hire. Following the advice of a well-traveled uncle,
I decided to travel to broaden my mind and gain some travel experience. It was
not my intention to travel alone, my previously eager friends had second
thoughts and my brother had to write a supplementary exam. Cancellation was an
option, for lacking travel experience, I was unsure (and admittedly a little nervous)
about the lone voyage. In the end, I decided to go ahead with the trip; there
had been a lot of planning involved for this trip and I was aware that I will
not enjoy the benefits of university holiday periods, when I start working.
Touchdown at Heathrow, I watch the many people push
and rush to disembark the plane, only to wait outside the luggage carousel for
the arrival of their bags. Immigration
at London seemed to be quite suspicious of lone-traveling African backpackers
and I was questioned so intensely, that even I began to wonder about the real
intentions of my trip.
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| Minding the Gap in London |
After my grueling session with Immigration, I
hopped aboard the first tube, out of Heathrow, towards my first hostel. Hostels
are interesting places, some are refurbished buildings (a disused generator in
Russell Square), and some are more elaborate, equipped with multiple floors and
even elevators. These places are abuzz with the foreign accents of excited youth
and even older seekers, from across the planet. It is almost like an episode of
‘Mind Your Language’. I quickly made
friends with a group of Americans and we spent the next few days acquainting
ourselves with the streets, and often unpredictable English weather. We refused
to take cabs, choosing rather to walk or use public transportation, to better
get a feel of the culture and the people. It is amazing how much more one
learns about the city, when one immerses oneself in the local culture. We ate
where the locals ate; we shopped at the local produce markets. I remember
having a long political debate with a Liverpudlian,
which inevitably ended up in a discussion about football. And, which in turn
ended up in him ranting about those ‘Manchester
Scoundrels’.
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| Answering Obama's phone...at Madame Tussauds |
What I realized from my trip in London, is that the
tourist traps, do not always provide the most rewarding experiences. Yes, I did
the London Eye, the Dungeons and Madame Tussaud's Museum, but it was the less
frequented attractions and social interactions that struck a greater cord with
me. It was playing cricket, with locals that I bumped into whilst I passed by a
local English cricket club, visiting the humble, former dwelling of Charles
Dickens and being hugged by a Chelsea fan, the day I decided to walk around
with my Chelsea football jersey. London is the intersection of many worlds and
stories, and it’s easy to see why Dickens was inspired to write some of the
best works of literature, inspired by those complex streets.
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| Playing cricket with a few local lads |
Scotland
Following the advice of other travellers, I then
boarded an overnight bus and journeyed towards the Scottish highlands. The bus
crawled from the metropolitan of London, tapering into the rural Scottish
countryside. I spent the journey conversing with a Pakistani migrant worker,
who told me of his homesickness and his longing to return to his country of
birth. Scotland is a place where things do not happen very quickly, and the
people prefer it that way. I managed to walk around the town of Edinburgh in
perhaps 50 minutes and that included regular intervals to take photographs. The
town contains many buildings of historical value and is overlooked by the
ominous, ‘Castle Rock’.
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| Investigating Castle Rock |
I dined that evening at the surprisingly reasonably priced ‘Hard Rock Cafe’ before heading out that night, with backpacker acquaintances.
That night we celebrated with true Scottish Whisky. The locals upheld
stereotypes and were fierce drinkers, though extremely welcoming and conversant
(even though I really struggled to decipher their dialogue into what we understand
as the English language). We were offered drinks by the locals, tours of
the town and one guy, even offered to let us lodge in his barn. A few days
later, on the way back towards London and back towards my flight home, I took a
picture of the Scottish Rugby Stadium, ‘The Stadium of Tears’. I mused to
myself that the stadium is probably called that because the fans always leave
the game crying.
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| Scotland's 4th Bridge |
My decision to travel, rather than having an, in my
opinion, unnecessary birthday spectacle was for the best. The objective of the
trip was realized; it helped to focus my perspective, as well as enhance my
travelling street-smartness. Life is about seizing opportunities, when they
beckon and not always sitting back and waiting for the right moment or the ideal
weather/price/companions. Our planet is truly a large, magnificent world; one
that becomes smaller every time you take a little time and try to discover its
stories. And who knows, you might discover yourself in the process?
This
entry was tweeted for the Travelstart Blogger Experience Project http://www.travelstart.co.za/blog/blogger-experience-contest
Word Count: 991 words
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