Eurotrip with Mom - London

My mom finally arrived, 28 hours later than scheduled, at nearly 2 p.m. on Dec. 19. I had staged a one person sit-in, as I was told that her plane was supposed to arrive at 8:45 that morning. Obviously one person isn't going to do much, but I made sure to go up to airport information roughly every 15 minutes to see where the hell they had taken my mom now. Did I mention that they had actually arrived over London, circled the city a couple of times, and then decided to take a nice lolly jump across the pond to Paris because it was "too foggy"? It's funny that EVERY OTHER AIRLINE managed to land their planes in London at the time, but Air India couldn't hack it. Besides, it's London - are you looking for palm trees and nude beaches? Come on.

I had scheduled us to take a ride in the London Eye at 1:30, which would have been perfect had my mom arrived on time - it would have been her second day in London and she would have been well rested. However, she was instead flying across the English Channel for her second time that day at the time of our London Eye Flight, so we missed that.

It was really nice to see her, although I think both of us would have been a lot more enthusiastic had the reunion occurred 28 hours earlier. She was tired and felt gross, so I loaded her on the tube and took her back with me to my flat. Katie was there and had taken the liberty of strewing all of her belongings across the whole of the flat - so much for my insistence that the place was clean now that the flatmates were gone.

My mom showered while I called my dad to let him know that she had arrived. My mom opened the door to the bathroom when she was finished and saw that I was on the phone and was like, "Oooh, let me talk to him!" So she comes over and sits down with the phone, with one of my red-pink-green-yellow-white-blue striped towel wrapped unsteadily around her body and my other red-pink-green-yellow-white-blue striped towel twisted in a turban on her head. Katie's trying to ignore the fact that my mother, whom she met 15 minutes ago, is half-naked in our living room, and I'm trying to ignore the entire situation.

She finally gets off the phone and gets ready slowly (family characteristic) and we're off. I had bought her an Oyster Card with 10 pounds of credit on it at the tube station; we discover, going through her travel packet, including the itinerary that I have not seen, that the travel agent prepaid on a three-day travel card for her, which is sitting in the envelope. Helpful, since my mom would be in London for less than 24 hours and she already had an Oyster Card. Rage.

My head was spinning as I tried to figure out how to show London to my mom in about eight hours. It was already 4:30 and dark. We went over to Westminster and discovered the Abbey was closed (of course). However, my mom hunted down Westminster Cathedral, a Catholic Church that I had never really bothered to find but was curious about, and - conveniently - we were just in time for 5:30 Mass, which was said by an American priest (how annoying).

After Mass, I took her to Chinatown in Soho. We feasted on cashew chicken and sweet-and-sour chicken with fried rice and Chinese tea. Then we went to the Leicester Square tube station to meet Dickon so we could all go to a pub. Neither Dickon nor I was very familiar with the area, so we just walked around for a bit before he said sheepishly, "It looks like I'm taking you in the direction of my work. It's like a magnet. Let's go somewhere else!" We ended up at Starbucks because we couldn't find the perfect pub - which turned out to be for the best because it was much quieter with no smoke.

My mom and Dickon settled down with tea and I with a vanilla latte, and we sat there and talked for a good hour and a half. It was SO FUN. Somehow we got on the subject of cats and inevitably the subject of his namesake came up. He's like, "I remember Ashley sending me a picture of Dickon the cat - and my favorite part was the little piece of paper in his mouth that said, 'Hello, my name is Dickon!'" Amy's work. So funny. I gave him his Christmas present - two boxes of Froot Loops and two boxes of Gushers fruit snacks, which he seemed pretty excited about.

My mom and I walked him to the tube station and we gave each other a hug and he gave me a card. It was so sad to leave!! My mom and I walked down Oxford Street and Regent Street, taking in all of the Christmas decorations, window displays and lights. It really hit me that this was the end, and I almost started crying. You might notice this as a theme throughout my blog. I get very sentimental at night, particularly when everything is so beautiful and so picturesque.

We walked by Buckingham Palace and bought apple tea in a market by Harrods, then took the night bus back to Earl's Court. Katie slept on the couch so my mom could have her bed, which was so nice. I was slightly panicked in the morning trying to get all of my stuff packed, all of the dishes cleaned, all of the rubbish thrown away, all of my suitcases sat on and closed - but my mom helped me and we did it. Katie, again being an angel, helped my mom and I drag our suitcases to Waterloo, where we were to catch the Eurostar at noon. We got there in plenty of time, and my mom set off in search of a tuna baguette and I settled into a chair, wanting to cry (again) but not finding the tears, secretly wanting someone - ANYONE (okay, preferably a handsome British male in his 20s) - to rush up to me and insist that I stay in London forever, and I would send my mother on her merry way in first class by herself to Paris, while I, indeed, would stay in London forever. So much for dreams.

The journey is TBC ... in Paris!