Ninth Stop: London

I know, I know - I said I wasn't going to go to the UK. The arguments against traveling to London are numerous: my Eurail pass isn't valid, London is the most expensive city in the world, moving North is actually moving the opposite direction from my next destination, I will have less time in Spain, and so on and so on. Now why am I here again?

I just couldn't pass up the opportunity. A trip to Europe without London just seemed incomplete to me. And Wimbledon. It really was just Wimbledon that brought me here and, dammit, I'm glad that it did. Although the last few days have been way over budget, they have been some of my best in Europe.

From Paris, I boarded a train en route to Calais, a seaside port city in France and the closest point to the England. In Calais, I met two girls from Switzerland who were getting ready to board the ferry as I was. There was some down time before the ferry departed, so the Swiss and I joked around and told stories. They were camping all throughout the Southeast coast of Britain and then making their way up to Ireland to do more of the same. I guess you could say they are the outdoorsy type.

The ferry was nothing like I had imagined. My mental picture was a run-down little passenger vessel that chugged along, barely maintaining a crawl as we progressed slowly closer to Dover. I could not have been more wrong. The ferry was state of the art - it had a ritzy restaurant and completely furnished interior. There were duty free shops and casinos and cafes. And it was enormous in size; it reminded me of a cruise liner.

The hour and 15 minutes flew by as I chatted with the Swiss, but when we got close to Dover the real show began. I never understood the song reference, but the Cliffs of Dover are actually the White Cliffs of Dover, an stunning geographical anomaly on the coast of England. The landscape is green until it reaches the ocean at which point the land drops straight down hundreds of feet. The white earth beneath the surface reveals itself as huge porcelain-colored rock. The view was worth the ferry ride.

I parted with the Swiss girls and boarded a bus to London. I notice the "Drive on the Left" signs for international car traffic and I realize that we too are driving on the left. I still haven't got used to it and I really am not convinced that the Brits have either. The bus ride gives me a nice introduction to the landscape, which is verdant and sprawling. It was a clear day, so you could see the hills roll into the horizon.

I arrived in London at Victoria Station as lost as ever. Luckily, speak in this country speak English, enabling me to finally comprehend written language. I find an Underground station that takes me to where I want to go in no time. The hostel at which I stayed is called the Ace Hostel. It's a part hotel, part hostel with a nice garden in the center and a bar/cafe on the first floor. The linens were clean and the showers were hot, so I was content.

The real reason I chose this hostel is its proximity to the All England Club. In reality, it was much closer than I thought. The tube is one block away and it runs directly to Wimbledon. I was tired from my day of travel and recognized the need to go to bed early for the next day, but I decided to go out and grab some food and beer with two Aussie girls in the hostel. After a meat pie and some ale, I went home and hit the hay at around 11 PM.

I still didn't get nearly enough sleep because my alarm was set for 5 AM. I showered, grabbed my backpack, and hopped on the tube toward the All England Club. On the ride I met a man named Lester, a Canadian of Singaporean descent. Les and I became acquainted and were Wimbledon buddies for the day. He had been before, to the French, Australian, and U.S. Opens as well. He was a funny little man, always telling jokes and keeping things light-hearted. I needed someone like him, because we were about the find our place in a Wimbledon institution, The Queue.

We reached The Queue at about 5:45 and were promptly given an official queue numbered card. I was number 2383. That means that there were 2382 people in front of me in line. The spectacle was amazing - pitched tents all about and people laying around, eating and chatting. The Wimbledon staff did an fantastic job organizing this event. It was perfectly orchestrated and orderly. I have never seen thousands of people behave in such a ruly manner. I guess the Brits are just used to queuing up.

The Queue took about four hours. Les and I spent this type talking tennis and making our predictions. Les attends the Nick Bollitieri tennis camp, so he had got the opportunity to speak with some of the pros. He had some good stories to tell, but I won't dwell on them here.

At around 10:30 AM we reached the ticket stand. I was fortunate enough to grab a reserved seat for Court 2 in addition to my grounds pass. Because it was labeled as obstructed view, it only cost me an extra £2. The atmosphere at Wimbledon was electric. The grounds were packed full of people although the first match didn't begin until 1 PM. I get the chills just thinking about those first moments at Wimbledon. The grass courts, the vines, the schedule of play, the strawberries and cream, Henman Hill (or Murray Mound) and its large television screen. I had made it.

I had already eaten all of the food I have purchased the day before and I was still starving, so Les and I went right for the fish and chips. I can't turn down fried anything. We wandered about the grounds for a while, taking pictures and hanging out.

Federer was the first match on, but because I didn't camp out 24 hours before, I didn't have tickets. The first match I saw was the next best thing, James Blake and Andreas Seppi. One thing about tennis matches that I didn't know before. People are constantly moving in and out of their seats. Every side change there is 100 people that leave and 100 more that come; no one has any patience. Blake lost, but that didn't come close to ruining my day.

I watched bits of matches here and there, a little doubles, maybe a few qualifiers there. I couldn't believe how close the spectators are to the courts. On the higher numbered courts and even on the show courts, the experience is incredibly intimate. You could see and hear everything that happens. I was like a little kid on Christmas.

I went to my seats at Court 2 to watch Tsonga take out a qualifier. The view was hardly obstructed - I felt like I got the better of the deal on that ticket. Later I watched a little of Dementieva, but women are not nearly as fun to watch as the men, so I made my way over the watch "Doctor" Ivo Karlovic serve his way through the first round.

After a full day of tennis after barely any sleep, I was exhausted. I went to Henman Hill with some tea and Thai noodles to watch the end of his match on the big screen. He pulled through and the Londoners were behind him the whole way.

It was a fantastic day and I didn't want it to ever end. I never thought I would actually attend Wimbledon. It is an experience I will have with me my whole life, even if it did end up costing me an arm and a leg. I'll never forget the smell of the grass...

I returned to the hostel as tired as ever and wanted nothing more than to go to sleep. Jeff, a Canadian who was my dorm mate, had other plans. He was preaching about Canadian whisky and was so adamant that I was willed into drinking some. We passed around that bottle for entirely too long, and eventually I feel right asleep with ease - I really didn't need that nightcap.

Rather than going to Wimbledon again (Murray was playing and the Brits were going nuts), I decided to do a little sight seeing. The two Aussie girls had the same plan, so we went out together to hit the big spots. We saw the Parliament, Big Ben, and went inside Westminster Abbey. Sadly, I lost them somewhere in the abbey and wasn't able to meet up with them again. This was alright, because I wanted to cover a lot of ground anyway and I couldn't do it with stragglers.

I walked about an hour along the Thames to the Tower of London. The walk was beautiful and really gave me a good feel for London. The Crown Jewels and the Tower Bridge were the highlights here, both totally blew me away. All I want for Christmas is the sceptre with the 530.2 karat diamond Star of Africa in it. Not too much to ask I don't think.

I walked back to the Tate Modern, one of London's most beloved museums. The museums are free in London (to make up for the hellishly high prices everywhere else), so I thought this would be easy, cheap option. I was actually blown away by this museum. It had some serious works but some of the world's most widely known contemporary artists from Picasso and Matisse and Dali to Warhol and Koons. For anyone who travels to London, I couldn't recommend this place more.

For dinner I ate some top notch Indian food at a place the Lonely Planet guide recommended. They say the best Indian food is in London and while I am not travelled enough to second the statement, I know my food was delicious.

Tomorrow I back track to Paris along the same multi-step route then hop aboard an overnight train to Barcelona. Talk to everyone from there!