On Taking Pictures from the Top of a Bus

"A tourist doesn't know where they've been; a traveler doesn't know where they're going." -- Paul Theroux, travel writer*

I spent this past weekend in London.

Oh hey Parliament! Photos by Brittany Petersen

When I say "I spent this past weekend," I mean I arrived on Friday afternoon and left early Sunday morning, so I really didn't have much time to soak in one of the world's most famous cities. I had essentially one day to get all my touring in, so I did what any self-respecting tourist would do: I bought a doubledecker bus tour ticket, grabbed my camera, and prepared to be wowed.

And I was! There is an incredible amount of history in London, as in the rest of the "Old World." I marveled at churches and seats of government that were built before my grandma's grandma's grandma's grandma was a twinkle in her father's eye. I frolicked around St. James Park in front of Buckingham Palace; was driven down the famous Fleet Street and across Tower Bridge; toured Shakespeare's Globe Theatre (the 1990's reproduction, not the 16th century original); and ate my first meat pie (but not on Fleet Street). I got as good a look at London as I could in my one day tour, and I was lucky to have a wonderful guide, my friend Kathryn, to take me around in the afternoon (and insist on the meat pie, despite my misgivings and insistence that only fruit belongs in pies).

It was a mad dash around the city, and with the exception of the Globe tour, it was really about laying eyes on these famous buildings and monuments, snapping a picture, and moving on. With so little time, and with so much to see, it was the best I could do.

My Northwestern flag made appearances all over England's capitol city, including in front of Westminster Abbey.

Still, I couldn't help feeling like I was gipping myself somehow. Here I am in a city with centuries of history, and I'm viewing it all as a drive-by. I watched the throngs of tourists huddle in front of monuments, snapping pictures, posing so it looked like they were leaning on Big Ben or about to swallow the London Eye. I make no judgements -- I was doing these things myself -- but it was clear this was tourism, not traveling. That's fine, especially because I know someday I'll be back, and I will take the time to make something meaningful out of each of my stops.

Besides running around and having fun with Kathryn, the best part of my 36 hours in London had nothing to do with the monarchy or the history or the checklist of monuments. I arrived by bus into Victoria Coach Station and decided to walk to my first destination, Brown's Hotel, where I had reservations for afternoon tea. Thanks to the maps on most street corners, I managed to find my way from the station with very little problem -- though I was supremely annoyed that this giant obstruction sat right in my way. It was a long wall with barbed wire around it, and it stretched smack in the path between the station and the hotel, so I had to walk all the way around it. But I managed it without getting lost, and so, feeling quite proud of myself, I sauntered into Brown's Hotel, checked my bag with the porter (I was staying in a hostel, not the swank hotel, so it was temporary storage), and sat down to a proper English tea, complete with five kinds of finger sandwich, scones with clotted cream and raspberry jam, and a dessert plate featuring delicacies like a passionfruit tart, mango macaroon, and coconut pudding.

Putting on my finest airs in Brown's Hotel, the oldest in London.

It was perfect -- I relaxed into my cushy pillow, sipped my tea, ate my finger foods, and had an experience. (Thanks again, Dennis!) It girded me for my quick tourist jaunt around town the next day, and it reminded me to slow down when I get a chance.

Now I'm in Paris, and that's exactly what I plan on doing -- I've got more than a week to see the sights, sleep (an undervalued aspect of travel, if you ask me), and read & write in the shadow of yet more monuments and museums and landmarks. I've seen some doubledecker tour buses meandering through the streets, but I feel no temptation to climb aboard. In this city, I'll find my own route.

Oh, and that annoying obstruction in the way of my walk to Brown's? I found out the next day, from the top of my bus, that it's the grounds of Buckingham Palace. My apologies, your Majesty!


* This quote was written on the wall of my London hostel, unattributed. An Internet search tells me this guy said it in approximately these words, but don't quote me on it. It's about the sentiment.