I had been putting off blogging for a while because I was having very exciting adventures in Iceland, and because the next day I was scheduled to write about was a bit of a downer.
It started with saying goodbye to Harriet and Adam, and catching a bus to Oxford railway station.
I wasn’t exactly sure if I had boarded the correct train because there was neither an announcement when the train left nor a guard checking tickets. Needless to say, I was a little stressed until we arrived in Reading, which is closer to London than Oxford, so I relaxed for the rest of the journey.
I ended up in Paddington and I felt a bit lost and alone. Luckily, I ran into an old childhood friend, Paddington!
Paddington agreed to accompany me on the remainder of my adventures and so we tubed to Nottinghill Gate and the British Museum.
I had most of my essential belongings in my backpack and it was really exacerbating my pain, so I headed to the cloak room to try to have a break from it for a while.
I put my purse (my tiny change purse) on the counter while I was instructed to weigh my backpack. While I was doing this, the other cloakroom attendant swooped on the “unattended” purse as a potential terror threat and I watched it leave with a security guard, despite my protests. I had just enough change in my pocket to pay to leave my bag to go to reclaim my purse.
It was at the information desk that my purse was returned to me, with a stern lecture about how central London is a horrible place and how stupid I was and that I didn’t belong here if I couldn’t be more careful, delivered by a horrible woman who had once had her iPod stolen while she was listening to it (as an example of how truly horrible central London is!).
So I wasn’t feeling overly happy about The British Museum or its staff. But things started to pick up a little after that. I had some lunch on some beautiful China, while listening to some American tourists complaining about the food prices and how the Denver museum had better artefacts.
The British Museum is huge, so I picked Asia and Medieval Europe as my focus areas.
Unfortunately, my camera battery had died again, so all of my photos had to be taken on my phone.
I saw lots of amazing things!
I was surprisingly drawn to this Japanese figurine of Long Arms and Long Legs.
Of all the marvellous items in the museum, my favourites were the beautiful tiles, collected from various cultures.
I also found the tiny, sample, blue willow pattern plates quite fascinating, particularly as my grandmother is a keen willow ware collector.
And I was able to see the rest of the chess set that Adam and I saw last year at the roaming Medieval Power exhibition that visited the Queensland Museum!
As I’d become a little weary from walking around so much, I stopped at the cafe for some carrot cake and a drawing break.
After drawing for a while, I caught the tube to East Putney, where I was staying with Huggies that night. I stopped in at a pub called The Railway while I waited, and watched the model train go round the ceiling.
Huggies cooked an AMAZING chicken pie for dinner and although it was supposed to be “Wine Wednesday”, I actually had quite an early night.
On Thursday morning, I tried to catch the tube to the airport, but the line was out due to strike action. I eventually managed to get to the airport after a bit of a panic, and it cost me much more than I was hoping.
I celebrated my arrival at the airport with a full English breakfast. However, I didn’t realise that my gate was a 20-minute walk from where I’d stopped for breakfast, so I had to jog to make the plane on time.
I loved the way Iceland Air’s cabin lights are the Northern Lights!
I had also made another major mistake, confusing Reykjavik Airport (RVN) (just 6 minutes from my hotel) with Keflavik Reykjavik Airport (KEF) (50 minutes from my hotel). This wouldn’t have been a problem if I hadn’t been trying to meet my tour group at 6pm and if I hadn’t selected the bus company to the city that waited at the airport for an extra half hour after I bought my ticket and got on the bus to depart.
I sat (not so patiently) on my bus, waiting to leave the airport, taking selfies, and watching the snow and three other bus company’s buses depart.
Regrettably, I ended up missing the whole introduction to the Northern Lights Escape, but our tour leader, Dora “the Original Explorer”, gave me a run down over dinner (which was fish and chocolate soufflés), at which I managed to lose all my itinerary paperwork.
But at least I had made it to Iceland!