As anyone who knows me
can tell you, I love to travel. In fact, one of my greatest fears when
considering retirement is not being able to afford to travel.
While I enjoy seeing
the world with my husband, Blue Scream of Jeff (shameless blog plug), there are
countries I want to explore repeatedly, and in detail that he isn’t interested
in revisiting, namely, the British Isles.
He has nothing against
Great Britain and Ireland except his concept of their weather. He’s been there,
so he’d rather go elsewhere. And it’s not his heritage.
While many people I
know consider London the ultimate British destination, for me it’s just a place
I can get a direct flight to from the East Coast. Even traveling to Dublin
a few years ago, the airline with the best price had a layover in London.(I
know; it makes no sense to me, either.)
I don’t hate London.
I’m just not a big city person. That said, I usually wind up spending at least
a day in London before going to another destination. I did that a few years ago
before taking the night train to Edinburgh for a week in Scotland.
I started my day touring
churches I’d never visited. Since most weren’t open, I decided take in a bit of
Dickens’ London.
No, I never expected it
to look as it did in Dickens’ day. I simply wanted to see some of the places
he’d mentioned in his novels. I couldn’t believe, in all of the times I’d been
in London, I’d never been to Covent Garden or The Old Curiosity Shop.
Off I went to Covent
Garden. A cobblestoned square, surrounded by buildings that were mostly
restaurants, and an open air market, I began snapping pictures and looking
everywhere but down.
Suddenly, as I walked
across the square, my foot jolted down unexpectedly, and I fell.
What the hell? What
just happened? My camera!
These were the thoughts
that went through my head as I got off the ground.
The camera was a
relatively new DSLR. I only hoped it hadn’t broken in the fall.
Looking around the
ground, I noticed a curb I hadn’t seen. I had thought I was on the square, and
hadn’t noticed this bizarre peninsula of slightly raised walkway jutting into the
square. Maybe jetlag could be blamed for my not noticing it.
A young man who
appeared to be a waiter from one of the outdoor restaurants dashed over to see
if I was all right. I thought it was sweet that someone cared enough to ask,
but I was embarrassed that it had happened at all.
I assured him I was
fine, and had only hurt my pride and maybe bruised my knee.
He brought over a chair
and called someone else over while he had me sit down, right in the middle of
the square. Now I was embarrassed,
imagining various diners wondering why that woman was just sitting in the
middle of the square.
Enter a gorgeous young
man half my age who looked like a young, slender Russell Crowe. He was the man
the waiter had called over.
He was apparently a
medic. He asked my name, where I was from, when I’d arrived, and what had
happened. He wanted to know how I felt, whether or not I’d hit my head and
whether or not I was hurt anywhere else.
I assured him I’d only
bruised my knee. He offered me ice, but I declined. This was really much ado
about nothing. I just wanted to be on my way, even though the scenery he was
providing wasn’t hard to bear.
We chatted for a while,
although I couldn’t imagine this young man was interested in my touring plans.
Of course, I realized he
was only doing his job. He needed to make sure I really wasn’t injured. It
wouldn’t do to have an injured American wandering around. Everyone knew how
litigious we are.
What I didn’t realize
until, while talking with a friend sometime later, was that his questions were
a subtle attempt to assess if I’d had a stroke.
Me? Well, yes, I was of
an age that it was possible, and I had fallen for seemingly no reason, although
that wonky curb would have caught up anyone, especially someone who was
jet-lagged.
Once I had spent the
requisite amount of time for him to determine I hadn’t had a stroke, he let me
go on my way.
Careful not to trip
over any more curbs, I resumed my explorations.
While I didn’t get to
all of the places I wanted to see, I’m sure I’ll be back again on my next trip to somewhere else.
