Hey hey! I’m here! I’m sorry I’ve abandoned personal writing in public since I took off to Edinburgh — for the trip you helped make possible. I’ll have a full report. But here’s what Mike and I managed to write down about the first part of that trip. This is our oral history of my 35th birthday trip to London!

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Megan: Somewhere between LA and London, hovering between 34 and 35-years-old, as most of the plane slept, a flight attendant noticed that I was awake and excited told me to run up past first class (“tell ’em Selina sent you”) and look out the window to see the Northern Lights.

With my heart pounding, I raced past the un-aware passengers, blew through curtains, avoided the feet of the lay-flat first class, and pressed my face up against the tiny window in an emergency exit door. Sure enough, there they were: Pale and bright green lights, shimmering in the sky.

Northern Lights

Kind of like this, but imagine the trees and water as clouds. (Photo by CC BY 2.0

I debated not waking up Mike for a second — boy needs his sleep — but then I was like, “I’d murder him if he kept this from me.” So I rushed back and shook him awake, “You need to get up right now and come with me to see the Northern Lights.” He was up in a flash and rushing back to the tiny window with me.

It was the first (and maybe only) time we’ve seen them. And I cried from happiness, and relief, and full-body-tingling awe, as we watched the towering green lights dancing above the clouds.

I thanked Selina, the flight attendant, for the incredible birthday present, and she poured us two glasses of champagne (I drank them both of course). I believe the moment I turned 35, I was standing above the northern hemisphere, glass of champagne in one hand, Mike’s hand in my other, the aurora borealis shining behind me, and the rest of my life, looking just as bright and wondrous, in front of me.

After that excitement, and a few more glasses of champagne, I slept surprisingly soundly. I can’t say the same for Mike.

I was still riding the Northern Lights high as we deplaned and zoomed through customs (as much as you can zoom while standing in a long queue). I got a “happy birthday” from the customs agent, we snagged our bags, and were off to Mike’s college friend Pete’s flat in Richmond, with a cab driver that managed to annoy us with his personality as well as the fact that he took speed bumps like he was trying to launch his black cab to the moon.

Pete and his place. You can see some of the cool sky lights in the kitchen from the angle!

Pete and his place. You can see some of the cool sky lights in the kitchen from this angle!

Pete’s flat was charming and not without its quirks — steep staircases, tiny hallways, and… creative access points to let light in (aka. a terrifying grate in the bedroom floor!?). Since his sister, Soph, was in town, and his son, Leo, was staying with him the next day, we were given a blow up mattress in his office, and was told that it may have a slow leak. Although, to our delight, he assured us that he ran his moist face over every inch of the mattress and couldn’t find/feel a leak. But, at 4am the next morning — when we found ourselves practically sleeping on the hardwood floor with air mattress all around us — we had, indeed, confirmed a leak.

Mike: The taco bed!!

Megan: Anyway… around noon, after a quick pub lunch in the garden (they have gardens and children’s playgrounds in the bars in England!), and a birthday Guinness for me, that blowup mattress in a cramped space looked and felt like absolute heaven as we napped.

tactical-nap

Then it was up and time to rapidly get dressed all fancy-like for my Special Michelin-Starred Birthday Dinner in London. But first… busses, and trains, and subway rides galore, as we wound our way from Richmond into my favorite city in the world.

Mike: Two Michelin stars!

Harrod's in the background!

Harrod’s in the background!

Megan: Once properly ensconced in the city — Harrod’s to the left of us, “the most expensive condo in the world” to our right, and crowds, double-decker busses, and useless red phone booths all around us — we blindly followed Pete around, wildly guessing at which direction the restaurant was.

We eventually found it, but not before Mike and I squabbled about whether or not I was going to be hit by that bus. (I think I was totally safe.)

Mike: Megan is still alive, thanks to me.

Mike, Megan, and Pete looking all fancy and shit.

Mike, Megan, and Pete looking all fancy and shit.

Megan: Dinner was such a freaking treat! First of all, it was in a super-nice hotel. Our table had a gorgeous view of the trees in the park next door. And everyone was so very posh and British. I was in proper English heaven. Adolescent Megan, who dreamed of eating fancy meals in London, was just squirming with delight. Okay, Adult Megan was doing the same thing. Although as good as the food was, it wasn’t my favorite…

dinner-by-heston-menu

Everything was a bit challenging for me, and I still feel bad that I ate and hated that frog leg, knowing now that Pete would have loved it… as he loved ALL the things.

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Our starters of “meat fruit,” “rice and flesh,” and savory porridge with frog legs.

Pete’s pure enjoyment of the food was one of my favorite parts of the meal. Well, that and the meat fruit (chicken liver paté that looked EXACTLY like a tangerine from the outside. Except, surprise! It’s meat inside. Apparently it’s an OLD British practical joke, and now an inside joke, as it supplied endless conversations, between the three of us, about our German metal band called “Meat Früt.”). I also loved the little portable liquid nitrogen ice cream cart they push around the restaurant.

After dinner we walked to the original Soho House, in fucking Soho! It was awesome — very different from LA’s. It was an old sprawling brownstone-type building, with tons of tiny little drawing rooms filled with tables, or couches and cozy chairs, or small bars. But, due to all the quaint tiny spaces, it was crowded beyond comfortable. So we sweated profusely as we waited for our drinks (once again Pete reminded me of the joys of the espresso martini when you’re starting to really feel the late hours and previous cocktails catch up to you) and then journeyed downstairs to sit at their lovely (but small) outdoor patio. So small that we were forced to share a table for a while with Tobias Menzies (of Outlander and Game of Thrones fame!!!). Of course, I didn’t realize it was him, until we were happily seated at our own table a couple of steps away. But another unexpected birthday sighting to close the night? I’ll take it!

Mike and Pete on the bridge.

Mike and Pete on the bridge.

We ended the evening with a late-night stroll around London. We checked out statues and took selfies on bridges… until Pete remembered that he’d left his cell phone back at Soho House. So we Black Cab-ed back to Soho House and then all the way back to Pete’s, where we crashed on our Leaking Air Mattress Taco Bed.

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The next day we ate a breakfast of avocado toast and tea in Pete’s sunny shared garden space, and worked out our plans which included drinks, walks, and the thing that I think I loved the most on this trip…

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