I love London!

Yes, it’s expensive, crowded, and the customer service is atrocious. But, the streets are rich with culture, history, and intrigue.

I am sitting at a wine bar in Covent Garden that I haven’t frequented since stumbling across it five years ago. Red and white brick walls, candlelight, low ceilings, and stone floors remind me of this eclectic city’s rich history. Although I am alone with my laptop, the lively banter between a table of Frenchwomen keeps me company.

Cafe on Portobello Road

Today J decided to host a lunch to welcome me to London. What a treat! When I get home, I want all of my mid-day meals to include Italian Prosecco and New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc. After spending the afternoon with a Canadian lawyer, an Australian Mom, and a Zimbabwean Recruitment Consultant, I felt like I had traveled to three new countries (five, if you include the wine) and I hadn’t even left J’s beautiful kitchen.

This evening I decided to explore the city on my own. My stomach had long since forgotten lunch and growled angrily at me. Eventually, I found myself at the only “authentic” Mexican restaurant in London (or so they claim). Why Mexican in London? Who knows! As I sipped a glass of Mexican wine (the only choice), I quickly realized why I had never tried wine from this region before.

Sitting at the bar, I tried to ease myself into the first solo dinner of my trip (dinner at the Vancouver airport didn’t count). But, without my Blackberry or a book to keep me company, I wasn’t sure what to do with myself.

Luckily a blond, blue eyed Zimbabwean guy and his ginger haired Irish boyfriend took pity on me and said hello. When they heard I was from Vancouver, they wanted to know all about Whistler because they’re planning a trip to Canada for Gay Ski Week in February. Given that I don’t ski and had never heard about the event, I wasn’t much help to them. But they continued to give me insider tips on where to get the best curry in London and how to avoid the tourists.

After declining an invitation to join them for a movie, I decided to continue enjoying the city. I waved to ‘Big Ben’, stopped to watch a busker who played mean Calypso drums, and stared in shock at girls wearing the skimpiest clothing I have ever seen in my life. Later, a drunken British guy asked me for directions. I smiled and said I couldn’t help, but secretly wished that I could.

So far, one of the most amazing things about this trip is remembering how alike we all are. Regardless of language or background, I see friends sharing a drink and a laugh, moms tucking their babies into strollers, and young couples embracing after time apart. I love that underneath all of our differences, we really are the same.