Summer travels – My first night in London

All I ever saw of London was from a bus window.

It all began with a resolution to be more worldly.

Attending Harvard, I am surrounded by people who speak by five languages fluently, have spent good portions of their lives in exotic locales, and speak of the streets of Uganda and London alike with infuriating familiarity. During breaks, classmates may jet off to Paris or Saudi Arabia; during the summers, they return with funny stories about sleeping with models in island nations off the African coast or ibanking overseas.

This summer, I decided, would be the summer I finally Traveled.

At first, I thought I was going to design my own vacation. After all, I was putting together itineraries for my two researchers, how hard could it be? But after a few sleepless nights consulting hellish Icelandic bus timetables, I was beginning to hate travel already. So that was how I ended up wandering into the offices of STA Travel and talking to Suzana, a friendly travel rep with a strong accent.

“You’re going to Europe?” she said, breaking into a smile. “That’s so exciting!”

I was wearing a sleeveless silk blouse that tied into a bow at the neck and my peep toe wedges. I felt very Serious. I smiled stiffly. I was going to Europe.

As far as traveling went, I had never gone at it alone. I had never boarded a plane alone. I heard a lot of stories about sketchy European men. I also was very, very good at worrying. And doubting myself.

If I went on a tour, I reasoned, someone would take care of the transportation bit. And I could travel with other people and make friends! I went ahead and booked a two week vacation – a TopDeck tour called “European Wonder.”

Two week's worth of belongings

This is how I ended up in a London youth hostel in Stamford Brook, with absolutely no usable money. My US-issued debit card was useless. I only had Euros on me. The first person I talked to blatantly raised and lowered their head to get a better view. I tried to buy a drink, but again, no money. I sat down on a chair across from a guy who was eating pizza. He ignored me. I felt awkward and alone.

A man came up to me. “Do you need money?” he asked.

“I just want to call or email my parents,” I explained, thrilled that someone was being helpful.

“Here, take my internet credit,” he said, handing me a small slip of paper with a code on it. “Are you hungry? Do you want dinner?”

I said I was fine and thanked him for the internet voucher. I went and emailed my parents, then came back.

The guy eating pizza was still there, and offered some of his barbecue chicken pizza. And so that was my first meal. It was cold, the sauce was very sweet, and the cheese had congealed.

My new friend and I traded names and places of origin. “What are you doing in Boston?” he asked.

“I’m in college.”

“Oh? Where?”

Here it comes, I thought. “Harvard,” I said, bracing myself.

“Oh really? I just graduated from there.”

“No way!”

“I was a TF for Justice,” he added.

We chatted some more. He had just interviewed for a consulting job, but was vacationing in France. He kept expressing concern about my finances. (I had money, just not pounds.) When he was about to leave, he pulled out of his wallet and tried to force forty pounds onto me. I insisted that I was fine – I was about to leave on my tour in 6 hours anyway.

“Are you sure?” he said, putting the notes back into his wallet. He told me what room he was staying in in case I needed anything. How… special.

There are two reactions to this story. 1) What a sketchball! 2) He was just being friendly. After all, we both went to Harvard.

It was my first taste of that magical alumni network I was promised from the very moment I opened up my email that began, Congratulations!…