Although I love London, the idea of going there in February gave me cold feet… but it would have been sad to let Mai go to her cousin’s wedding by herself. So I shoved my gloves, scarf and winter hat in the luggage and got on the plane.
We are walking the beautiful streets of London. The weather is cold enough to freeze the balls off a brass monkey, as our fellow Englishmen sometimes say. My down jacket is not warm enough: I should have packed the snowboarding gear. More than the temperature, it’s the wind that gets you. Every gust steals all the energy out of my body and leaves me shivering despite multiple layers of winter clothes. I’m getting more and more bitter by the minute. What am I doing here? Why would anyone want to get married in London in February anyway? Why not Spain, Italy or Portugal? Why not wait for spring?
We find refuge in our fancy hotel a few blocks away from lively Piccadilly Circus. I whip out my iPhone and check the latest friend updates on Facebook… anything to get my mind out of this cold place. I want pictures of sunshine, messages from Hawaii. Instead something else catches my attention: “Just landed in London” says David, a friend whom I haven’t seen for years. The update was posted today.
A few hours later I am having afternoon tea and biscuits with David. We are telling each the important parts of our lives these past few years, giggling like two kids. In the cold of London my heart fills up with warmth I could not have found anywhere else.
Cedric, 10/4/2011
(Trip to London in February 2010)
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