Have baggage will travel - Dodging traffic in London

You realize that you have a severely huge packing issue when your luggage is over-weight even before you commence the first leg of your three week multi-country transatlantic journey.  Yikes!!  Did I really need to pack every single one of my picturesque travel books, colour co-ordinated travel journals, my entire scrapbooking collection and reams of blank paper, just in case I ran out?  Like, seriously?  Surely they will have maps, books, paper and pens on the other side of the pond – an enticing plethora of yet to be discovered distinctly European paper products – some of which I would end up purchasing nonetheless, just to add to my ever expanding paper library.  So what if my love of acquiring the latest issues of foreign fashion magazines forced me to plunk extra money down on a new carry-on backpack, consequently heaving me over like a rickety old lady, causing me to throw my back out and subside on pain relief medication for the remainder of my sojourn?  Like, seriously, who does that?  An entire suitcase filled to the brim with over-flowing agendas and journals?  Forget the latest designer duds and handbags in London or Paris – just point me in the direction of a stationary goods emporium, library or bookstore and I’m in seventh heaven!

And so the curse of my cumbersome carry-on bags had officially begun, trailing me around Europe, as I labouriously struggled to heave my unmanageable load onto planes, trains, ferries and buses – all the while enduring excruciatingly evil and loathsome stares from my fellow passengers as I strove to hurl my baggage onto various forms of transport.  My three weeks overseas came close to virtually disrupting the efficiency of national transportation links on the continent and beyond, as trains, planes and automobiles had no choice but to patiently wait until my pink sneaker logoed luggage was safely stored on board.

And thus began my week long sabbatical in merry old England, navigating the roundabouts whilst skillfully dodging oncoming traffic.  Hesitantly placing my pink-sneakered foot onto London ground as I exited the bus, I nearly got sideswiped by a red double-decker trolley, coming at me from the wrong direction! Jet-lagged and in a semi comatose state, I had numerous close calls with vehicles, buses and bikes, all of which seemed to have mischievously conspired to keep me on my guard at all times. Accustomed to dim-witted foreigners not paying attention to rudimentary street signs, the Brits seemed to have hit upon an ingenious idea, and have marked the pavement with precise instructions as to either “look left” or “look right” for oncoming traffic.  I can’t tell you the number of times that this basic set of directions contributed to saving my life and permitted my pink sneakered feet to safely scoot across the street without fear of being taken out by a garbage truck.

And that was just my first hour in London town. Yikes!!

Stay tuned for more London adventures next week.

Come drive on the wrong side of the road and stop traffic with me…enjoy the escapades of my wandering pink-sneakers as they dart around London, from Hyde Park to Oxford Street, all the while staying clear of the overly claustrophobic underground.

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