A Girl’s Guide to Surviving a Solo Trip to London in January, The Final Chapter
I’d been away 16 days when I woke up one morning sure that it was time to go home. I had made plans with three different friends throughout the week, all who apologetically had to cancel for one reason or another, and I was more than ready for someone else to have to hang out with me. Despite really wanting this solo trip to London, I was starting to feel never more alone in my life. So, I changed my flight to the next afternoon and made one last date with myself to Borough Market—a food lover’s paradise.
I was greeted by this darling little garden shop, where I bought yet another breakable gift.
The market was overflowing with cheese, and of course I would have to choose this trip to become rather lactose intolerant, the worst possible diagnosis for a Southern girl.
So, I left my drool by the quince paste, and made my way over to the charcuterie stand instead.
Cannon & Cannon is owned by two brothers from North Norfolk that specialize in local and artisan cured meats.
I sampled everything except the Blood Sausage. I’m going to be two years old about it. Gross.
But, it’s possible I brought back some Kentish fennel sausage and chorizo that the owner vacuum sealed for me with a cheeky note that read “From London with Love.” He clearly knows the way to my heart.
The full market is only open Wednesday-Saturday so you’ll want to plan accordingly. I hear it gets quite busy on the weekends, but that Wednesday afternoon was pretty tame.
Except for this Wild Mix.
And a gorgeous vegetable display that could put the LA markets to shame.
I paid no attention to the hanging pheasants, as there was no way those were going home in my suitcase.
But, these miiiiight have fit. It’s possible I need a ceramic intervention. Aren’t these so cute by Richard Bramble?!
Chomping on a dried “Beer Stick,” I hurried out and back to my hotel before it was time for a little farewell drink with my new friend Sangeeta.
We made fast friends with the new manager of the hotel’s Reform Social & Grill, who so graciously kept our thirst quenched on the house for reasons I cannot explain.
After one Ramonas Rose Fizz and a special off the menu concoction, Sangeeta and I said a final farewell, or rather an “until next time” and I took the Tube one last time back to South Kensington.
I spent my last morning rushing and packing and stressing over the Uber driver that I wasn’t sure knew the way to the airport. It wasn’t until I was making my way through the terminal at Heathrow and saw this sign with the simple words “Goodbye” that I got a lump in my throat. This journey was over and I’d managed to miss the last few hours dreading the flight home rather than enjoying the time I had left. Was I leaving too soon? Did I get what I came for? I was genuinely terrified that I hadn’t yet figured out all the answers.
Ten long hours later my husband met me at LAX with open arms and most importantly an open mind to the fact that we are all very much works in progress…
And that was the biggest lesson of all.