Perfect Moments with Perfect Strangers, Day 2

Airports have always fascinated me. They are filled with so many feelings-sadness of saying goodbye, excitement of saying hello, apprehension about starting a new adventure, nostalgia reminiscing about an old one. The man I sat next to on the plane (I was crammed in the middle of two people which made for a very awkward sleeping arrangement; I was scared I was going to end up resting my head on their shoulder or starting snoring in their ears) explained to me his own fascination of airports as he recounted the story (with much fervour) of how he and a stranger had gotten hammered at an airport waiting for a flight to London many years ago. Never did he see him again, but this was what enthralled him, and I understood why. Airports are magical in the sense that everyone has a story to tell, somewhere to go. You see them once, share a few words (or in my seat acquaintances’ case a few drinks) and that’s it, they are heading off in the opposite direction, ready to start their own adventures. I understood what he was saying as I thought about how kind and helpful he was being to me; I did not even know his name, I was never going to see him again. And yet he was willing to do whatever he could to help me out (calming me down while we were taking off and lifting my bags into the overhead).
I realized today on my journey that there are people willing to help you out in life (the nice ones) and there are also the ones who could care less (like the patrol officer at Victoria Station who did not help me carry my 22kg suitcase and 7kg backpack down the steep flight of stairs into the underground train station amidst the panic and plea in my eyes- a nice young British lad ended up helping me out thank GAWD). It’s all about your attitude as well-I feel that karma must of had at least something to do with all of the good, helpful, kind people that I crossed paths with today.

England greeted me with beautiful melodious accents, damp sidewalk pavements and dew delicately draped across lush greenery, just how I remembered it. As the train from Gatwick whizzed across the countryside and into London, I smiled out the window at England’s delicate beauty, the way strangers called me “lovey”, and how everything felt so absolutely foreign and yet so familiar at the same time. I noticed how you could tell who was British just by looking at them, as if the culture and tradition of England was rooted so deeply into their faces. Although I had felt different and out of place more than once in my life, my facial features and the way I dressed had never separated me so distinctly from a mass group of people. This was a weird feeling, as if everyone was looking at me, wondering where I had come from, what story I had to tell. Though I must admit, I was staring at everyone else as well, enthralled with their British ways.
I did feel a bit lonely on the train into London, only because I desperately wanted to share the beauty I was witnessing with someone. I also had the urge to whip out my camera every .2 seconds, wanting to capture those beautiful fleeting moments so I could share them with the rest of the world. But I guess I have the next 7 months to do that-and I will!

All in all, my journey from Canada to London was a perfect adventure filled with kind, helpful strangers that I will never see again. And you know what? I’m okay with that. I realize, courtesy of my seat partner, that that’s what travel is all about-bonding with strangers whom you will never see again, witnessing beautiful fleeting moments that cannot be captured, and sticking out from the crowd. It’s all about honouring and appreciating these experiences as they happen, and living in that moment, a split second that will never occur again.

I can’t believe I’m here –let day 3 begin!

Xoxoxoxo