A couple of weeks ago, I took a trip down to London. It was a hectic, non stop week meeting the boyfriend's family, shoulder barging on Oxford Street, tubing on almost every line along with a lot of window shopping. Arriving late on a Friday night, we ventured up to (the somewhat steeper than it looks), Primrose Hill - panting - to watch the London Skyline, whilst sipping on a tepid Strongbow Dark Fruits. Cheap date. I become restless now, reflecting on this memory, wishing I could relive such a genuine moment.
The trip was filled with pockets of excitement; I visited my favourite bookstore in Notting Hill and hopped on and off a Boris Bike just off Sloane Street, going all around London, so my lower legs thought. Cycling to Hyde Park, we arrived in time to bathe on the grass and listen to Marcus Mumford serenade me with 'Awake my Soul'. We managed to cram in a Pedalo sesh on Hyde Park lake along with some drinks at a rooftop party we happened to stumble across, next to the Thames. Roaming the streets aimlessly for five days was both exhilarating and exhausting, as we meandered around cocktail bars late into the early hours most nights.We visited an all day event at the Magic Roundabout, which to my surprise, was literally in the middle of a roundabout - groundbreaking. Finishing off the weekend, I finally got to fulfil a life goal *screams* to visit the Globe and watch 'The Taming of the Shrew'. I was in stitches, and to my surprise totally forgot I'd been standing for three hours - students, phft, anything for a fiver. We finished off a remarkable weekend with drinks in the Bluebird, and bid a (hungover) farewell to London, and to our maxed out Student Loans. Can I just live there already?