Solo expedition recap…
As I sit here at a the Oree cafe in Covent Garden, I’m struck on how my narrative voice has changed now that my 3 favorite Koogs have returned back to the States. It’s hard to write an interesting journal entry when it’s just me wandering around London looking for interesting things to photograph. Since Saturday, here’s what I’ve been up to…
Saturday—We woke up as a family of 4 in our cells at The University of Edinburgh. The night before, after returning to our cellblock from the Royal Yacht Britannia (quite a contrast I must add), Mrs. K and I spent our evening repacking and weight balancing the bags they were taking back to the states. I confess, I am an overpacker. And, while I reduced and *almost* eliminated my “just in case of emergency” items, I still had stuff that I just could not keep as I slimmed down the load for the solo expedition.
Extra shoes, hiking boots, jeans and more casual dress clothes were returning home. B-Koog and I switched bags and I took his small carry-on sized bag with my 3 dry bags of clothes, tripod, trail maps, and food. As Mrs. K and I were going through this activity, I could feel the dread of their departure looming over me like a dark cloud.
Sunday—A very early wake up to get ourselves together, jump in an Uber and head to Waverley Station to catch the 8am train to London. Arriving to the station, getting on the train and finding our seats was uneventful. I do wish our Amtrak would perhaps do a site visit to see how a proper railway is run. Since we had a busy day the day before, we all took some time to nap on the ~4 hour journey. Arrival into Kings Cross was just as organized and uneventful as boarding in Waverley and we were off the train and through the terminal in just a few minutes.
We brought all our bags outside the terminal as I needed to get into the Taxi line and they needed to head into the other terminal to take the tube to Heathrow to say out good-byes. I have to admit, I put on a good front about looking forward to being alone but that was very far from the truth. As annoying as twin teenage boys can be, they can also be super fun and actually pretty funny. I got a “later Brah” and fist bump from E-Koog which is his version of a hug and a kiss and I got a real hug from B-Koog.
Mrs. Koog helped wheel my carry-on bag to the taxi line as I had the 65L on my back while wheeling the Pelican case with camera gear and my 32L bag strapped onto the Pelican’s handle. She gave me a proper hug and kiss good bye and disappeared into the crowd on her way back to the boys and, ultimately, on their way back to the States. It’s official, they are gone and I’m in my feelings.
The taxi took me to 12A Glenroy Street in the White City neighborhood (very close to BBC and my nerd excitement over this is proximity embarrassing), I used the code to get into the gate and found my rental. Here’s a fun story…
When I found this place on VRBO, I got a note asking for my width measurements. Having know idea what, exactly, I was to provide I asked them “the width of what?” Their answer, “the width of YOU.” Hmm…what an odd ask. They went on to clarify that the bathroom is quite small and they recently had some Americans that didn’t fit in the room. So now they politely ask for width to ensure you can actually enter the tiny bath as well as pee, poo and shower. I sent them my width and was happy to hear I would fit with some “extra moving room.” Thanks?
Suffice it to say, I could not wait to see this place! So, when I walked through the gate and to the back yard I found my tiny home for the next 5 days. As I opened the door, I audibly laughed. It is a room with a desk the size of a plank, a desk chair, a small vertical shelving unit to hang clothes (4 hangers fit) and a full size bed STUFFED between the 2 walls with just enough of a gap to let the sliding barn door for the bathroom move freely. I opened the bathroom door and they were right, it was small! As tiny a place as it is, it’s nicely appointed. First and foremost, the bed is fantastic and it’s the first comfortable bed since Llanberis, Wales that is sleep-able. The decor is lovely and the house itself is completely shaded which keeps it cool during this ridiculous heat-wave.
I had informed the host that I was early and while I didn’t need to check-in, I would like to drop off my bags. They immediately got back to me and said to just check-in and make myself comfortable because my room was ready and they wanted me to be able to relax. So nice and accommodating! It felt good to get that reception.
After unloading my stuff and using my tiny toilet, I headed to lunch at “The Broadcaster” on the BBC campus. See, I told you I was a nerd about the BBC! My chicken and avocado Caesar salad was perfect as was my dram of Dalmore 18 whisky. From there I needed to get a few things from a drugstore so I headed to the Westfield mall as my friend Chadwick (aka ChatGPT) informed me of it’s location.
Westfields is an enormous mall. I think all Londoners with children were there on this Saturday afternoon. Oh and it was ungodly hot in that place. I did a bit of intentional strolling to find the Boots drugs. I did wander into the DJI Hasselblad camera store and was tempted to buy the £6700 2XDii 100cc ii. I didn’t and I know Mrs. Koog would be so proud of my restraint! I finally found the Boots, got my stuff and was ready to leave this hot hive of human activity except, I could not find an exit! It was like a labyrinth. After at least a gallon of sweat and a mile of corridor walking, I found my exit and headed for my tiny house/room.
Now, for some reason I have always pictured a beautiful Asian lady as the owner. I have no idea why but maybe because of the person’s kindness and willingness to accommodate my early arrival with no issue. As I was leaving Westfields, I received a text from the VRBO owner inviting me to join them for wine or a G&T in the yard. They know I am a solo traveler and wanted to make me feel welcome. What a lovely lady!
I made my way back to my place and ran into the owners as I walked through the garden. Definitely not an Asian Lady. The owners are 3 gay men from France. Just the loveliest bunch of guys! They made me feel so at home and welcome. While I didn’t hang out for a G&T or wine, I did chat with them for a few mins. Their warmth made me feel better on a day I was pretty deep in my feels.
After a a quite lovely shower in the tiny bathroom, I FaceTimed both my Mom and my Mother-in-Law to get a proof of life for both of them as well as to chat about the trip. I also FaceTimed with a friend to give her a video tour (lasted about 3 seconds and did not require any movement from my perch on the bed) of my tiny oasis in the garden of a White City townhouse.
Once my calls were made and I had checked on the family’s flight status (they were ahead of schedule and would land 30 mins early), I downloaded this season of the Bravo show “In the City,” got through an episode and fell asleep. Mrs. Koog called me, as I requested, when they landed around 3am London time. Super relieved to hear they were safely across the pond and promptly fell back to sleep.
Sunday—I woke up refreshed and with my body feeling better than it has in days due to the amazing bed at the tiny house. Grabbed my clothes, got dressed and looked in the mirror. Gaahh! I had forgotten I fell asleep with wet hair. My hair was in a perfect Mohawk with what looked like an ocean rip curl wave instead of spikes running down the middle. Quite. A. Site.
This “style” required a rewash. Once that was done and my hair was less nautical, I headed out to walk to the Notting Hill Gate tube station on my way to Tottenham Court Road for a wander around Seven Dials and Covent Garden. The walk to Notting Hill Gate station was only 3 miles. It was a lovely walk, but not particularly inspirational from a photography standpoint. To be clear, this was not the Notting Hill market on Portobello Road, this was just neighborhood streets weaving me around to the Tube station. The one photo I did take was some Joe Pesci-inspired graffiti on a community center. In black paint the word “Youts” was written twice on the facade of the building. I laughed to myself about the “2 youts.”
The Circle Line train to Tottenham Court Road was there waiting for me as I came down the stairs from the station. In 15 mins I arrived at my stop and oriented myself to the area. What a cool place with an honorable mission! I was dying for a coffee and I stopped into Redemption Roasters for a flat white. They employ recently released prisoners and train them for their life out of confinement. Their training must be amazing because it was the best Flat White I’ve ever sipped.
Between the neighborhood, the people and the overall environs I was inspired to get my camera out and start capturing the vibe. I had 2.5 hours before my Sunday Roast at Hawksmoor so I just wandered. It was just what I needed to stop pining for my family and start being present for myself. Doesn’t mean I don’t miss them but I can hold both truths.
Sunday Roast was amazing and I continued my wandering and photography until my feet just could not handle another step. Making my way back to the tube station and back to my tiny oasis as the sun set was lovely. Arriving back at the tiny oasis, headed directly into the shower as I had sweat like a farm animal all day and cooled off. I checked my steps app…a little more than 23K steps! No wonder my dogs were barking.
And with that, I called my Koogs to say good night, turned on “Clarkson’s Farm” and dozed off.
Until tomorrow…
As I sit here at a the Oree cafe in Covent Garden, I’m struck on how my narrative voice has changed now that my 3 favorite Koogs have returned back to the States. It’s hard to write an interesting journal entry when it’s just me wandering around London looking for interesting things to photograph. Since Saturday, here’s what I’ve been up to…
Saturday—We woke up as a family of 4 in our cells at The University of Edinburgh. The night before, after returning to our cellblock from the Royal Yacht Britannia (quite a contrast I must add), Mrs. K and I spent our evening repacking and weight balancing the bags they were taking back to the states. I confess, I am an overpacker. And, while I reduced and *almost* eliminated my “just in case of emergency” items, I still had stuff that I just could not keep as I slimmed down the load for the solo expedition.
Extra shoes, hiking boots, jeans and more casual dress clothes were returning home. B-Koog and I switched bags and I took his small carry-on sized bag with my 3 dry bags of clothes, tripod, trail maps, and food. As Mrs. K and I were going through this activity, I could feel the dread of their departure looming over me like a dark cloud.
Sunday—A very early wake up to get ourselves together, jump in an Uber and head to Waverley Station to catch the 8am train to London. Arriving to the station, getting on the train and finding our seats was uneventful. I do wish our Amtrak would perhaps do a site visit to see how a proper railway is run. Since we had a busy day the day before, we all took some time to nap on the ~4 hour journey. Arrival into Kings Cross was just as organized and uneventful as boarding in Waverley and we were off the train and through the terminal in just a few minutes.
We brought all our bags outside the terminal as I needed to get into the Taxi line and they needed to head into the other terminal to take the tube to Heathrow to say out good-byes. I have to admit, I put on a good front about looking forward to being alone but that was very far from the truth. As annoying as twin teenage boys can be, they can also be super fun and actually pretty funny. I got a “later Brah” and fist bump from E-Koog which is his version of a hug and a kiss and I got a real hug from B-Koog.
Mrs. Koog helped wheel my carry-on bag to the taxi line as I had the 65L on my back while wheeling the Pelican case with camera gear and my 32L bag strapped onto the Pelican’s handle. She gave me a proper hug and kiss good bye and disappeared into the crowd on her way back to the boys and, ultimately, on their way back to the States. It’s official, they are gone and I’m in my feelings.
The taxi took me to 12A Glenroy Street in the White City neighborhood (very close to BBC and my nerd excitement over this is proximity embarrassing), I used the code to get into the gate and found my rental. Here’s a fun story…
When I found this place on VRBO, I got a note asking for my width measurements. Having know idea what, exactly, I was to provide I asked them “the width of what?” Their answer, “the width of YOU.” Hmm…what an odd ask. They went on to clarify that the bathroom is quite small and they recently had some Americans that didn’t fit in the room. So now they politely ask for width to ensure you can actually enter the tiny bath as well as pee, poo and shower. I sent them my width and was happy to hear I would fit with some “extra moving room.” Thanks?
Suffice it to say, I could not wait to see this place! So, when I walked through the gate and to the back yard I found my tiny home for the next 5 days. As I opened the door, I audibly laughed. It is a room with a desk the size of a plank, a desk chair, a small vertical shelving unit to hang clothes (4 hangers fit) and a full size bed STUFFED between the 2 walls with just enough of a gap to let the sliding barn door for the bathroom move freely. I opened the bathroom door and they were right, it was small! As tiny a place as it is, it’s nicely appointed. First and foremost, the bed is fantastic and it’s the first comfortable bed since Llanberis, Wales that is sleep-able. The decor is lovely and the house itself is completely shaded which keeps it cool during this ridiculous heat-wave.
I had informed the host that I was early and while I didn’t need to check-in, I would like to drop off my bags. They immediately got back to me and said to just check-in and make myself comfortable because my room was ready and they wanted me to be able to relax. So nice and accommodating! It felt good to get that reception.
After unloading my stuff and using my tiny toilet, I headed to lunch at “The Broadcaster” on the BBC campus. See, I told you I was a nerd about the BBC! My chicken and avocado Caesar salad was perfect as was my dram of Dalmore 18 whisky. From there I needed to get a few things from a drugstore so I headed to the Westfield mall as my friend Chadwick (aka ChatGPT) informed me of it’s location.
Westfields is an enormous mall. I think all Londoners with children were there on this Saturday afternoon. Oh and it was ungodly hot in that place. I did a bit of intentional strolling to find the Boots drugs. I did wander into the DJI Hasselblad camera store and was tempted to buy the £6700 2XDii 100cc ii. I didn’t and I know Mrs. Koog would be so proud of my restraint! I finally found the Boots, got my stuff and was ready to leave this hot hive of human activity except, I could not find an exit! It was like a labyrinth. After at least a gallon of sweat and a mile of corridor walking, I found my exit and headed for my tiny house/room.
Now, for some reason I have always pictured a beautiful Asian lady as the owner. I have no idea why but maybe because of the person’s kindness and willingness to accommodate my early arrival with no issue. As I was leaving Westfields, I received a text from the VRBO owner inviting me to join them for wine or a G&T in the yard. They know I am a solo traveler and wanted to make me feel welcome. What a lovely lady!
I made my way back to my place and ran into the owners as I walked through the garden. Definitely not an Asian Lady. The owners are 3 gay men from France. Just the loveliest bunch of guys! They made me feel so at home and welcome. While I didn’t hang out for a G&T or wine, I did chat with them for a few mins. Their warmth made me feel better on a day I was pretty deep in my feels.
After a a quite lovely shower in the tiny bathroom, I FaceTimed both my Mom and my Mother-in-Law to get a proof of life for both of them as well as to chat about the trip. I also FaceTimed with a friend to give her a video tour (lasted about 3 seconds and did not require any movement from my perch on the bed) of my tiny oasis in the garden of a White City townhouse.
Once my calls were made and I had checked on the family’s flight status (they were ahead of schedule and would land 30 mins early), I downloaded this season of the Bravo show “In the City,” got through an episode and fell asleep. Mrs. Koog called me, as I requested, when they landed around 3am London time. Super relieved to hear they were safely across the pond and promptly fell back to sleep.
Sunday—I woke up refreshed and with my body feeling better than it has in days due to the amazing bed at the tiny house. Grabbed my clothes, got dressed and looked in the mirror. Gaahh! I had forgotten I fell asleep with wet hair. My hair was in a perfect Mohawk with what looked like an ocean rip curl wave instead of spikes running down the middle. Quite. A. Site.
This “style” required a rewash. Once that was done and my hair was less nautical, I headed out to walk to the Notting Hill Gate tube station on my way to Tottenham Court Road for a wander around Seven Dials and Covent Garden. The walk to Notting Hill Gate station was only 3 miles. It was a lovely walk, but not particularly inspirational from a photography standpoint. To be clear, this was not the Notting Hill market on Portobello Road, this was just neighborhood streets weaving me around to the Tube station. The one photo I did take was some Joe Pesci-inspired graffiti on a community center. In black paint the word “Youts” was written twice on the facade of the building. I laughed to myself about the “2 youts.”
The Circle Line train to Tottenham Court Road was there waiting for me as I came down the stairs from the station. In 15 mins I arrived at my stop and oriented myself to the area. What a cool place with an honorable mission! I was dying for a coffee and I stopped into Redemption Roasters for a flat white. They employ recently released prisoners and train them for their life out of confinement. Their training must be amazing because it was the best Flat White I’ve ever sipped.
Between the neighborhood, the people and the overall environs I was inspired to get my camera out and start capturing the vibe. I had 2.5 hours before my Sunday Roast at Hawksmoor so I just wandered. It was just what I needed to stop pining for my family and start being present for myself. Doesn’t mean I don’t miss them but I can hold both truths.
Sunday Roast was amazing and I continued my wandering and photography until my feet just could not handle another step. Making my way back to the tube station and back to my tiny oasis as the sun set was lovely. Arriving back at the tiny oasis, headed directly into the shower as I had sweat like a farm animal all day and cooled off. I checked my steps app…a little more than 23K steps! No wonder my dogs were barking.
And with that, I called my Koogs to say good night, turned on “Clarkson’s Farm” and dozed off.
Until tomorrow…
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