I had the most wonderful, last weekend in London that was filled with a lot of smiles, a lot of laughs, and a lot of tears.
My third leaving-do took place Friday night with my group of friends here called "Team America."
The core of this group consists of me, my ex-pat Southern girlfriend from Tennessee, my ex-pat girl friend from Texas and her room mate (who after living with an American has practically become one himself), and my very English guyfriend who loves Americans so much that we let him in and pretend he is one.
The 5 of us met for a delicious leaving-do dinner at The Folly before heading unto the pub, where on the first friday of every month the whole of HTB gathers to drink together, as all members of the Anglican church should. It was a great coincedience that this fell on the night of my Team America leaving-do, and that The Folly was so conveniently located next door.
At First Friday, we snagged a couple other honorary Americans to join us, and left from there for Ronnie Scott's - a live jazz club in SoHo that reminded me of la caveau de la huchette in Paris. Dark lit, live band complete with a dreadlock-ridden electric violinist, people wearing proper ballroom dancing shoes. It was fabulous.
And it was there I realized how cool my English guyfriends really are - because every single one of them took a bit of dancing classes and knows how to properly dance. "Just a bit of salsa class at UNI," "oh my mom taught me as a kid to ballroom dance," "I spent my gap year in Spain and picked it up" - they all have some story, but it ends with them being able to spin and dip you on the dance floor - which is awesome.
The manors on an English lad still amaze me. They open your doors, get your drinks, hail cabs for you on the road, offer you their "brolly" if it's raining, and always want to make sure you are having a good time when you're out with them, and when a dance floor is in sight, they extend their hand your way and politely say, "Anna - would you care to dance with me?"
Who could say no to that kind of invitation?
So Team America salsa'd well into the night, and I picked up lots of new dance moves from my guy friends and I woke up with a lot of photos on my phone of me trying to salsa dance that no one can ever see but I will cherish forever.
Saturday morning I gathered the same crew to go to Maltby Street Market and have brunch at the Bea's of Bloomsbury pop-up diner. I'd been meaning to go since summer and it was now or never. We arrived to find the cutest little market you can imagine. A tiny alleyway strung with Union Jack bunting, fresh baked scones displayed on trays on old pianos, vendors wearing shabby top hats and white gloves, it was almost like we had time-warped on the tube.
The pop-up diner was off the main market in what looked like an airport hanger filled with picnic tables. It was a short and sweet American-style menu. French toast, pancakes, eggs benny, American bacon, bagels and cream cheese....heaven. I got the half and half, which was half an eggs benedict on a homemade english muffin and half an order of fluffy, puffy, blueberry pancakes, all for £6.50.
My friends, who were skeptical of going so far away for a breakfast - were going mental over how delicious everything was, and asking "how do you know about things like this - you're not from here!"
We left properly stuffed but that wasn't going to stop us from continuing onto Borough Market for a stroll around one of my favorite things in London. I had to say goodbye to Borough and get a final Monmouth latte. It turned out to be a beyond gorgeous day: sunny, clear blue skies, a slight delicious fall chill in the air, I felt like London was showing off.
I walked around grinning ear to ear, melting inside at every cute thing I saw, my heart-aching at the realization that this was my last Saturday afternoon strolling around London. I walked all the way from Borough down Southbank to Sloane Square, where I did my final walk down The King's Road - stopping of course for a bit of shopping along the way. My friend Christina had planned a leaving-do party for me, so I needed a leaving-do dress for the occasion.
Every time I go out in London I make 5 new friends by the end of the night. So it was quite fitting that my leaving-do party was filled with people I had known for months, and people I had known for about 48 hours alike. I only recently found out that a Watermelon Martini is the signature drink at bars in Chelsea. They actually take a whole watermelon and cut it up fresh in front of you when you order one. So that, of course, was my drink of choice for the evening, since I am a Chelsea girl. It was a fun crowd, and a fun party, that finally winded down at 4am.
But one of London's greatest downfalls is the lack of 24 diners where one can go at 4am after a night out when they are starving. So I was very excited to be invited to brunch at the Delaunay with my best friend Amy's family. The Delaunay is one of the smartest places in London, so I could not just turn up there hungover wearing lululemon gear like I would in New York. I arrived on 3 hours sleep, somehow looking put together and sat down to a Kir Royale and amazing, hot, french batard with salted butter.
Amy's grandparents are in town from France, and do not speak a word of English, so French was the language of choice at brunch. So there I sat, drinking more champagne cure the hangover, and trying to think and speak in French while devouring the amazing bread. It was fantastic.
Post-brunch Amy and I continued into Oxford Street for a bit of shopping, and I did a final trip into Liberty, and Fortnum & Masons, and the Burlington Arcade, growing more melancholy at every store.
Liberty already had their Christmas shop set up on the 4th floor, so I wandered through admiring the witty christmas cards and charming, holiday hampers, recalling so vividly doing my holiday shopping there last year and loving every minute of it. I wish I could do my holiday shopping at Liberty this year too.
Life here has really been so fantastic, and especially this last month when I've really embraced it for all that it is. It's given me the opportunity to travel to places I've always wanted to go, to meet interesting people from all over the world, to discover new things about myself, to show myself that I can make it on own, to perfect my English accent, to keep calm and carry on, but most importantly - to trust my gut. I knew deep down the second I got offered this job I had to take it. I knew deep down when I was unhappy here and wanted to leave that I had to grin and bear it, and I know now, with absolute certainty that I will look back at this year, always, as the best experience of my life.
Who could say no to that kind of invitation?
So Team America salsa'd well into the night, and I picked up lots of new dance moves from my guy friends and I woke up with a lot of photos on my phone of me trying to salsa dance that no one can ever see but I will cherish forever.
Saturday morning I gathered the same crew to go to Maltby Street Market and have brunch at the Bea's of Bloomsbury pop-up diner. I'd been meaning to go since summer and it was now or never. We arrived to find the cutest little market you can imagine. A tiny alleyway strung with Union Jack bunting, fresh baked scones displayed on trays on old pianos, vendors wearing shabby top hats and white gloves, it was almost like we had time-warped on the tube.
The pop-up diner was off the main market in what looked like an airport hanger filled with picnic tables. It was a short and sweet American-style menu. French toast, pancakes, eggs benny, American bacon, bagels and cream cheese....heaven. I got the half and half, which was half an eggs benedict on a homemade english muffin and half an order of fluffy, puffy, blueberry pancakes, all for £6.50.
 |
| outside Bea's diner |
 |
| Blueberry pancakes, American style, with a side of whip! |
We left properly stuffed but that wasn't going to stop us from continuing onto Borough Market for a stroll around one of my favorite things in London. I had to say goodbye to Borough and get a final Monmouth latte. It turned out to be a beyond gorgeous day: sunny, clear blue skies, a slight delicious fall chill in the air, I felt like London was showing off.
I walked around grinning ear to ear, melting inside at every cute thing I saw, my heart-aching at the realization that this was my last Saturday afternoon strolling around London. I walked all the way from Borough down Southbank to Sloane Square, where I did my final walk down The King's Road - stopping of course for a bit of shopping along the way. My friend Christina had planned a leaving-do party for me, so I needed a leaving-do dress for the occasion.
Every time I go out in London I make 5 new friends by the end of the night. So it was quite fitting that my leaving-do party was filled with people I had known for months, and people I had known for about 48 hours alike. I only recently found out that a Watermelon Martini is the signature drink at bars in Chelsea. They actually take a whole watermelon and cut it up fresh in front of you when you order one. So that, of course, was my drink of choice for the evening, since I am a Chelsea girl. It was a fun crowd, and a fun party, that finally winded down at 4am.
But one of London's greatest downfalls is the lack of 24 diners where one can go at 4am after a night out when they are starving. So I was very excited to be invited to brunch at the Delaunay with my best friend Amy's family. The Delaunay is one of the smartest places in London, so I could not just turn up there hungover wearing lululemon gear like I would in New York. I arrived on 3 hours sleep, somehow looking put together and sat down to a Kir Royale and amazing, hot, french batard with salted butter.
Amy's grandparents are in town from France, and do not speak a word of English, so French was the language of choice at brunch. So there I sat, drinking more champagne cure the hangover, and trying to think and speak in French while devouring the amazing bread. It was fantastic.
Post-brunch Amy and I continued into Oxford Street for a bit of shopping, and I did a final trip into Liberty, and Fortnum & Masons, and the Burlington Arcade, growing more melancholy at every store.
Liberty already had their Christmas shop set up on the 4th floor, so I wandered through admiring the witty christmas cards and charming, holiday hampers, recalling so vividly doing my holiday shopping there last year and loving every minute of it. I wish I could do my holiday shopping at Liberty this year too.
Life here has really been so fantastic, and especially this last month when I've really embraced it for all that it is. It's given me the opportunity to travel to places I've always wanted to go, to meet interesting people from all over the world, to discover new things about myself, to show myself that I can make it on own, to perfect my English accent, to keep calm and carry on, but most importantly - to trust my gut. I knew deep down the second I got offered this job I had to take it. I knew deep down when I was unhappy here and wanted to leave that I had to grin and bear it, and I know now, with absolute certainty that I will look back at this year, always, as the best experience of my life.
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