Sunday, May 19th
We’re in London, baby!
During the 9 ½ hour flight, I slept off and on. Huff the Hubs, however, played Minecraft the ENTIRE time. Needless to say, he was tired.
According to our tour package, we were supposed to get a driver that would pick us up at the airport and then take us to the hotel. He was supposed to be waiting for us at the arrivals hall and holding a sign that read: “Huffman”.
We got to the arrivals hall. There was no guy there with our name on a sign. We waited. And waited. And waited. We weren’t sure what to do or where to go, when FINALLY I saw a guy holding a sign with our name on it.
I told him, “We’re ‘Huffman’.”
He replied, “You’re who?” with a weird look.
“HUFFMAN,” I replied, pointing at his sign and trying not vomit at the smell of bourbon coming from him.
He turned it around and looked at it, “Oh. Wait over there,” he said, pointing to a cafe.
“He smells like booze and cigarettes,” I told Huff the Hubs when we sat down at Costa Coffee.
“That’s comforting,” he replied.
After the hour drive to our hotel (during which HtH slept) we dropped our bags off and went to Buckingham Palace to see the changing of the guard. We took the Tube and HtH did great! (I was a little worried because he’s super pokey—see yesterday’s post about “Huffman Time”—so I thought he may get trampled in the busy Underground. But he was on top of things!)
By the time we got to Buckingham Palace, my feet and lower back were killing me (an almost 10 hour flight is hard on a preggo) but I didn’t say anything because I wanted the trip to be enjoyable. We got our spots in front of the palace gate, next to a German mother and her angsty teenage son who was in dire need of Chapstick and Proactiv. Normally I like hearing other accents/languages, but after standing there for an hour, I was losing my mind. It was like I had the television on, along with the radio, and trying to listen to a conversation going on all at the same time. It probably didn’t help that I was hungry (which, when you’re pregnant, is basically a constant state of being).
After the guards did their thing, we walked through Hyde Park—me, sans shoes. The grass was SO soft and cold! It felt so good on my feet! We took the Tube to Westminster and saw Big Ben, Parliament, and Westminster Abbey. The Abbey was closed because it was Sunday, which was fine with us.
We walked across Westminster Bridge and ate lunch at a McDonald’s my sister and I frequented when we were in London in ’08. After lunch, we made our way back to the hotel. On the Tube, a pregnant British woman sat down next me with one of the cute buttons they pass out to preggos.
She said she was in town from the Cotswold’s, visiting her “auntie”. She asked me how far along I was and I said: “About 5 1/2 months.”
“Brilliant!” she said. “I’m a few weeks behind you.”
I asked her if she had felt her baby kick yet and she said: “I’ve felt flutters; its lovely, isn’t it?”
We exchanged some more pregnancy stories and then she said, “The thing I wasn’t prepared for was how emotional I can get! A few teenagers ran me down at the Tube station and I started to cry!”
“I would’ve cried too, pregnancy or not!” I said.
“I just don’t care for teenagers,” she said.
I laughed, “Me either!”
We are now best friends.
We chit-chatted until our stop. When Huff the Hubs and I got back to the hotel, we took a 2-hour nap.
We ate fish and chips at a nearby restaurant–HtH fell in love with the fish!
Then, we popped into a small shop to buy water bottles. We also bought a box of little pies called “Jammy Cakes”.
It came with 6 mini pies: (2) apricot, (2) blackberry, and (2) raspberry. We ate the entire box in one sitting. I regret nothing.