If you’re wondering if that title is correct, it is. We had only spent an hour in London together before she left me. Well, she may not have left me the way you might be thinking. Shockingly, we’re still together. Let me explain…
We came to London to attend the Eagles/Jaguars game at Wembley Stadium that was to be held on October 28th. We landed at Heathrow airport around 11am on Sunday, October 21st, a week prior to the game. In the meantime we were ready for a week in London.
We had several transportation options to get to the hotel; we chose to use the transit, the London Underground. The Piccadilly Line would take us straight to our stop at Green Park Station. From there it would be about a five minute walk to the hotel.
The London Underground
Being the final stop on the line, the train sat at Heathrow for a few moments before departing. Very few people boarded to that point so there was plenty of room on board. Kathie took a seat on the train; I stood by the doors with the luggage. It would be about a 45-minute ride with several stops in between.
With each passing stop, more and more riders boarded the train. Before long there were a handful of people between Kathie and myself. As we approached our stop, I looked over to get her attention. She was sleeping! How was I going to get her attention? The idea of calling or texting crossed my mind but of course there is no cell service in the tunnel. Eventually she opened her eyes and I gestured for her to get up; the next stop was ours. She nodded in recognition, however, she remained seated until the train came to a complete stop.
There I stood with two suitcases; the doors about to open. There would be people streaming in and out so I knew I had to jump out as soon as they opened. I was hoping she would make her way over to help me out with the luggage, but it wasn’t to be. As the doors opened she was only just beginning to get up. I immediately hopped off and stood on the platform waiting for her to emerge from the crowd. Sure enough, as she came into view, bam! The doors closed. There she stood on the other side of the glass looking out with her hands in the air. Then…off she went.
Lost in London
Now What? I thought to myself. This was not good. She was off to another part of London, a place she is not familiar with. Who knows where she was going to end up. I had been planning a majority of the trip; I wasn’t even sure if she knew the name of the hotel we were staying at. I thought, what if her phone is dead? There were so many elements of this situation spelled a recipe for disaster. The big question: what was my next move? Should I wait on the platform? Surface to ground level and wait there? What if I couldn’t get a hold of her? Should I go right to the hotel? Does she even know where we’re staying? Oh, and by the way, I was stuck with two large suitcases so any move I made was less than ideal.
Unfamiliar with the Underground system, I wasn’t sure how any of it worked. When using the subway back home in Philly, it’s necessary to find a sign indicating which side of the platform the next train will be arriving on. They use both sides to go both directions. If you’re not paying attention you could find yourself going the wrong way. Here in London there was only one track. The platform was long and narrow with walls on both sides. I wondered if the train would come back on the same track. Within a few moments the next train arrived at the station; it was going the same direction as the one I just got off. So there was my answer, these trains were all going the same direction. She wouldn’t be coming back on that one.
Leaving the platform I discovered a tunnel through the wall led to the opposing track. Ah ha, I thought. All she has to do is walk over to the other side and hop a train back. Simple! However, would she realize that? I wasn’t convinced. So I stood there for a bit waiting to see if she would magically appear in the crowd of a disembarking train. One problem … tons of people on a very long platform. I watched swarms of people jumping on and off the trains; she could have made her way out without ever noticing. With no cell service underground, I felt my only chance was to make my way up to the surface and send out a text.
Making my way out
The trip up to the surface was an adventure in itself. I ventured along the tunnel through thick crowds with two massive suitcases. Fun! Upon entering the elevator I was quickly confused as to which button to hit. All options were negative numbers. Did I need -1, -2, or -3? Nothing indicated a way out. Wow—I though going to an English speaking country would be easy—I was wrong. So I went with -1 as it was the top button, knowing I needed to go up. There was a 33% chance of getting this correct but I felt my reasoning significantly increased my percentages.
I expected the doors to open and find myself on the main level. Nope! I was led into another tunnel. I didn’t even know if I was supposed to be there or not. So I just kept rolling along. This tunnel was much longer. Perhaps a full city block, maybe two. With two suitcases it felt I walked to the next Underground stop. This led me to another elevator (properly referred to as the lift). This took me to the main lobby of Green Park Station. Now I had to get through the ticket barrier gates … with two suitcases. Picture if you will, a flow of passengers swiftly making their way through these gates as quickly as possible, one after the other. Needless to say there was a stream of people behind me hoping to get through with the utmost efficiency. Me and my bags threw a wrench in that monkey—but I got through.
Green Park
I made my way out of the station up a ramp that led me to, believe it or not, Green Park. This was actually very pleasant. I had been on an airplane all night, made my way through the airport, then on a train from the airport to my current location. This was the first time I had been outside since the previous day when I was back in the colonies. I couldn’t have asked for a better day. It was sunny with temps in the 60’s. There were people lounging in the park. It was the perfect welcome to London. Obviously it would have been more ideal to have Kathie with me, but I must admit, if you’re going to lose someone in London, this was the spot to wait.
I planted myself along the fence in the park and began reaching out to Kathie. I figured it would only be a matter of time before I received a response to my texts. Now I just had to wait. So I enjoyed my time in the park and did what anyone in my situation would do: start texting people back home. Mental note however, try to mind the time difference. My apologies to anyone that received a pre-7AM text that Sunday morning.
I stood in the park for the better part of a half-hour before I really started to become concerned. I figured her phone was either dead or wasn’t working. There was a third scenario in which she was still underground. If this was the case she was probably halfway to Scotland by now. Either way, I wasn’t sure what to do. I was anchored down with baggage, literally. I was starting to think I would be spending my whole day in the park. The primary question running through my head was not what should I do, rather did she know what she should do? Would she try to go to the hotel? Did she even know the name of the hotel? Would she try to get back to this station? Did she know the name of this station? So many questions—and with no response and a fear she was unable to even use her phone—I felt it all came down to me trying to figure out what her game plan was and having the same game plan myself. What did we do before cell phones?!? What if she got off the next stop and was hoping I’d come there and get her? Should I try to go there? I didn’t really know, so I banked on her showing up where I was and I stayed put—a decision easily made out of pure laziness. I wasn’t about to go hauling luggage all over London.
I stood and watched streams of people exiting the station into the park. There was another element to this, however; there were several exits leading out of the station. Even if she came back, she could have easily surfaced on the other side of street. What were the odds she’d come out on the park side? Well, to my surprise there she emerged. She came walking up the ramp waiving—like nothing had ever happened. Voila, we were reunited.
So where did she go, you may ask? She got off at the next stop and made her way to street level—unencumbered by baggage I might add. As I had feared, her cell phone wasn’t working. She had power; the phone just wasn’t connecting to a server. She tracked down a policeman in hopes that he would help steer her in the right direction. Fortunately, she remembered the name of the hotel. Unfortunately, he never heard of it. So she made her way back to the Underground (without baggage) and got herself back on the train the opposite direction.
She was excited about her little adventure—much different than mine. She said it was like Times Square at the next stop. I knew exactly where she was. I asked, you were at Piccadilly Circus, weren’t you? She quickly replied, yes! It was her first taste of London and she like what she saw. It set the tone for the upcoming week.
I’m sure it seems like this was an easily resolvable situation. But under the circumstances—in an unfamiliar town, unable to communicate with each other—I have to tell you, I expected our reunification to be a bit more challenging than it was. I had mentally written the day off in preparation of resolving that situation. With that behind us we were now ready for our vacation to begin. The day was early, it was gorgeous out, and we were in London. I was pleased to return the luggage which had anchored me down to it’s rightful owner. It was time to make our way to our hotel. All was good!