



It's not every morning that you wake up beaming with the thought of what to do during the day. But the prospect of doing one of my most favourite activities of all was hard not to be excited about: Exploring the markets that have been established in London for so many years
that it would be criminal not to enjoy this bustling tradition. After downing a
quick breakfast in the dark hall of the hostel with only bits of new light breaking
its way into the room, I pushed down that inevitable early morning fatigue to
find the infamous markets. The antique stalls in the Portobello Market area lay
jagged by the road, some selling cheap glass while others sold expensive copper
scales and cutlery. The best part of seeing these beautiful gems was being able to watch curiously as they got sold: People haggled and bantered in a cheeky and playful way before parting with smiles on their
faces. The crisp but light filled air around made my cheeks turn a
frost-bitten, rosy hue. It gave it a feel of realism and urged me to continue
walking, allowing me to see a whole host of artistic oil paintings and
colourful scarves that stood out as spots of brightness against the neutral
colouring of the road. But as much as I enjoyed looking and staring and
thinking about how these pieces of art were made, I will be honest in saying I
was thinking about my next destination towards the end already. The way to
Borough Markets made my tummy rumble and groan, as if secretly relishing at the
prospect of being treated to food from the oldest food markets in England but
also as if grumbling that it took me so long to get there. No market I had ever
visited compared to this one, with a high interior that bounced off sounds of
excited people, edging along to get to their favourite stores for a deluxe and
unique lunch. Exotic smells would hit me occasionally as I headed down a new
path, ones that smelt like fresh seafood and fragrant jams and creamy cheeses
all looking just as mouth watering as they smelt. After I fought my way through
a gathering crowd to buy a dish of calamari with chilli sauce, I picked a free
spot, bit into the soft meat wrapped inside a crunchy crust and felt my body
relish from the introduction of such deliciously satisfying food. The cafe in
front of me worked like an oil machine, chugging out cups upon cups of steaming
caffeinated drinks, yet the line outside still stretched and wrapped around the
corner of the street.
I edged my way out of the
crowds to approach the one and only London Bridge, but not before stopping in a
huge glass dome right next to the busy market to hear a choir of young teens
singing holiday carols. Their voices carried through the wind as I eased out to
the bridge, clutching my coat and scarf tightly around me. With the Thames
running underneath it and the Tower Bridge just in the distance standing in its
gothic manner, I walked across it and back whilst braving the wind and the
subtle chill that nearly knocked me off my feet. On my way back, it was the
funniest thing watching a bunch of festive drinkers chugging down booze whilst
wearing sunglasses on a massive cart powered by one poor man peddling to move it
across this historic bridge. It made me realise that London was just full of
fun and spontaneity, completely opposite to what Paris represented but had
another level of attraction and lure. I could not compare these two cities with
the same standard because it is their differences that make them so charming.
The historical aspect of
London with all its tradition and value, or anywhere else for that matter, was
an aspect that I could not say I was always interested in. Perhaps it's the
fact that history as a subject had never been a big part of my education, but
arriving in Europe has given me a whole new perspective of how enriching and
engaging history can be. While I find myself appreciating some aspects more
than others, arriving at St Paul's Cathedral opened my eyes to how important
the past is; Despite the majestic grandiose of the building before me as I
rounded the corner to take it at face view, what made it even more impressive
was the courage and bravery of the firemen who sacrificed their lives to save
it so we could preserve it for today and many years to come. The cathedral itself
was much bigger than I had imagined, and trust me when I say I had big in mind.
Even as I walked far from it across a bridge to the Christmas festivities in
the distance, I could still see the building with all its angles and curves,
accentuated further by the slow setting of the sun. It was one of those moments
that could be captured on camera one hundred times and never be satisfying, and
standing there to admire it from far away felt also like a privilege that
needed to be savoured. But of course after those few special moments, you have
to move on. There is simply no logic in waiting around - not in London anyway.
It almost feels like wasting time when you could discover so much more.
In saying that, it wouldn't be
hard to imagine my impatience and frustration when walking up to the biggest
Christmas festivity that I have ever laid eyes on to find a line which seemed
as long as the Thames itself. Standing amongst the crowd of excited people who
yearned to become a part of the glowing lights and the musical celebrations
happening inside the gates, all I could do was watch the lit up amusement rides
repeat the same motion over and over again; Falling and rising, spinning and
swinging, all with fresh laughter and screams that resonated through the
unoccupied and dark areas of Hyde Park. Travelling alone had certain perks but
waiting in that line was almost torturous without anybody to share the excitement
with and to pass time. It moved ever the more slower with knowing that I was
literally so close to being inside every holiday lover's dream. And when I
finally got through under the large 'Winter Wonderland' sign, I breathed in a
sharp gasp of air. If you could imagine any sort of town, overrun by some
extravagant, extensive Christmas explosion, you wouldn't be too far from what I
saw in front of me. People where smiling and laughing all around me, some
looking relaxed as they lounged around wooden tables while some had a slightly
more frantic look in their eyes as they glanced around for their friends.
Everybody had a hot drink in their hand and the steam from all these cheap
styrofoam cups rose slowly, only to disappear into the masses of piercing
lights that glowed against the pitch dark sky. Walking away from the initial
entrance, I followed the flow of the crowd onto a street that had an endless
array of festive stalls. I couldn't say until this point that I had experienced
anything that was so infused with Christmas spirit and holiday joy, it was just
not something that can come by easily back at home. Snow globes, lights,
ornaments, candles, wooden fruit bowls, soft toys... These are only a small
list of the things that I saw there, sitting on the tops of the stalls so
delicately in contrast to the unruly sight in front of them, waiting to be
picked up and bought by curious children and fascinated adults. Holding an
obligatory hot chocolate and trying not to spill it on anybody as I shuffled
down was more difficult than it seems, but that didn't stop me poking my head
every now and then into a stall where the lights above softly illuminated my
face. It allowed me to get the occasional whiff of rich caramel fudge or hear
the sounds of a candy floss machine churning and buzzing to stop the Christmas
haze from being so completely overwhelming.
The scene that remains the
most vivid memory in my mind however was watching the joys of the holidays
unfold before my eyes in the carnival games area of the park. As I clutched some freshly bought hot French fries in one hand, trying to balance it so that none
of them would fall on the cold ground, I watched groups and couples both young
and old, attempting to win and take home one of the prizes that hung down from
the elaborately decorated ceiling. Darts were thrown, balls were tossed, goals
were scored and amongst the yelling and cheering and laughing, I found myself
enjoying that scene for the better part of my night. I could only think: This is what holidays are all about. I
needed to see this, to be immersed in it to understand how truly happy and
enjoyable life can and should be. Nobody had any worries in there, or stress or
frustration. It was an unreal place blooming with positivity and optimism that
melted everything else away.
And when I finally left,
walking away from the brightness and into the chilly darkness of the park to
reach the metro stop on the other side, I couldn't think of any better build-up
to perhaps one of the most special Christmas holidays of my entire life.
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