One part London, Two parts Magic

Still reeling from my recent trip to London. That is a difficult city to take in, I imagine, in any amount of time, much less a few days. I was simultaneously overwhelmed by both the 'newness' and 'oldness' of the place.

It got me thinking about the mythology we create, especially as Americans I believe, about foreign places we see on TV and film. Certain locations conjure specific images and experiences in our minds and when we finally get the opportunity to visit those places we can either be deflated by failed expectations or enjoy the true nature of the place. I have had the great privilege now to visit some of the most iconic places in the world: India, Egypt, London (soon, Paris!). I had a set expectation for each of these places in my mind. India would be magically, spices in the air and people doing yoga and living in temples. The vision of the Pyramids at Giza, people in London all being well-dressed and well-spoken. In reality India can be quite dirty, difficult to navigate, people are rightly more concerned about selling goods to tourists to support their families than Ayurvedic medicine. The Great Pyramids are actually located in the center of a very busy Giza City. The view from the pyramid plateau is one of freeways and high-rise buildings, not endless deserts and palm-lined oases. And London...

Im not sure what I expected to find in London. As I said before, a mix of new and old. The well-dressed ancestors of Sherlock Holmes. Thin women drinking tea in Prada. Girls navigating cobblestones streets in mile-high Louboutin heels. And museums. And culture. And history. Add red buses and red phone booth. Sprinkle in some costumed guards, some palaces, a few bridges. Mix. London. In reality, a good deal of this you do actually find in there, but not quite the way you expect.

For me London seems a bit like on of these large cnidarian communities. It appears to be one organism, but in reality it is made up of millions of small ones which have formed this amazing personality. I stayed in an area of South London called Camberwell, known for its thriving African immigrant population. Not considered a great neighborhood by typical standards, but I found the Sierra Leonian immigrants I stayed with to be some of the most welcoming, endearing people I have ever met. A half an hour bus ride from Camberwell put me at Buckingham Palace, surrounded by the Queen's Gardens and guards in fancy dress. 15 minutes away I was at the Portabello Market in Notting Hill, pushing through crowds of tourists and hip Londoners digging through piles of vintage books and clothing. So, this is London. All of it real. All of it 'magical'.