Going Home via London

Once I gave my goodbyes to Saidi, Betty & Abdhula I had a brief wait before being allowed through security. After Rwanda Air Authority x-ray scanned my two black trunks, looked in one of them and stickered them cleared, I duct taped them shut with the last of my roll of black tape. (the tape was still intact when I arrived home). Of course I was overweight on one of the trunks and had to pay extra. I'm carrying one bag about the size of a purse, my backpack (with all the clothes I need for the next four days, my pillow and the wire moto.

Inside, I've got a couple of hours before departure. In the lounge area I meet a group of Indian military officers. They are on their way home for a few weeks of leave. They've been assigned to the United Nations peace keeping force in Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC). A very nice group of men who offer to share their lunch (I decline because I'm still stuffed from KBC). It's a delight to be able to visit with them about their observations concerning DRC and mine in Rwanda. Individually and as a group they are the kind of guys with whom I could become instant friends. They like the wire moto.

The Ethiopian Air flight is on time and we walk across the tarmac and up the stairs. First class enters through the front set of stairs, economy through the rear. The plane looks new and I've lucked out and gotten the seat by the emergency exit (lots of leg room) and the man assigned to the seat next to me decides to move to an empty row further back. There is a movie screen that shows our current location and flight information. I'm reminded just how small Rwanda is , , , in less than 45 minutes we've left Kigali (in the center of the country) and we're out of the country. The meal was delicious and soon we arrive in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia.

I've got a 3 hour wait and take the time to get a accommodation reservations for London using hostelworld.com . I find a Queen Victoria hostel which has good reviews except for the location which is "Superbly located only 20 minutes from the world's most famous and historical bridge 'LONDON BRIDGE'". It's okay by me especially since I can't find anything else that's available for a price I'm willing to pay on a Saturday night. I book the reservation and write out the information as there is no printer. As I wander around with my two bags and moto, I find a cafe selling tiny cups of coffee and giving away popcorn. I'm not interested in the coffee but as I sit I see they have a juicer and I can get fresh squeezed orange juice @ $1 US per large glass. I'm on my 3rd glass when a couple of the Indian military guys join me. They want the coffee and had some from this place on their way in to DRC. They claim it is pure nitroglycerin, super charged. I'm not surprised to find that one of the doctors is a psychiatrist. Some of the things that the UN peacekeepers are forced to do (or not allowed to do) as part of their "Mandate" would really be disturbing to rational people. Things like: burying your left over food so that no one gets it and starts a riot (and then allowing the little boys to slip in at night to dig through the dirt down to where the food is).

At a bit before midnight we are allowed through security. Even though I have my boarding pass I have to go to the counter and get a special sticker. What's happened is that there are enough seats but many of us are assigned to the same seats and have to be re-assigned. Down to waiting buses that take us across the tarmac, out to the plane to climb the stairs. I'm at the back of the line and get a few minutes to enjoy the cool night air. The flight is good, stewardesses accommodating, food is great, plane is clean and new, I'm holding the moto in my lap, electronics all work and my digestive system chooses to have bout #2 of purging. I should have just switched with the man in the aisle seat next to me. He didn't get his full nights sleep as he was large and would have to get up to let me out of my window seat. My anti-diarrhea meds are in my trunks. Just after the sun comes up we arrive in Rome and the plane loses 2/3rds of the passengers while it picks up some fuel. A couple of hours later we're landing @ Heathrow.

I expected that as soon as I arrived in London I'd be able to understand all of the conversations but London is a cosmopolitan city and Heathrow a major international airport. I'm still hearing many tongues I'm not able to decipher. It's pretty quick through customs and I've got my trunks. I spend a couple of hours exploring my options with my 110 pounds of luggage. I end up using the obvious solution of storing them with Excess Baggage. As I'm getting ready to leave I realize I've almost forgotten the moto sitting on the counter.

Down to the "tube" I start the 1.5 hour trip into London. Someone in Kigali had told me to get an "Oyster Pass" and the helpful worker down in the Tube area confirmed I'd get the best rates and have the easiest time of traveling if I used the pass. I have to remind myself repeatedly that although I'm on a grand adventure the people around me are doing their everyday lives. The moto gets quite a few looks as it is quite unique. I have to change once to get to the London Bridge station where I'm to board a train which is to get me to Woolwhich/Arsenal.

It takes a while but soon I'm on the platform and 15 minutes later I'm leaving central London and on my way to my accommodations. Twenty five minutes and I'm off the station and walking through the suburb of Woolwhich. Five minutes later I'm standing outside the Hostel but the doors are all locked. I can see that the upper floor windows are all open so I stand on the street hollering "Hallooo" until a head pops out and says they'll let me in to wait for the proprietor. It's taken almost 3 hours to get here from Heathrow. The owner wants to know about the moto.

I'm given fresh linen for my bed but there are no towels provided. Once in my room I find that the bottom of one of the four sets of bunk beds doesn't have a backpack on it so I assume it's the one I'm supposed to sleep in tonight. My seven roommates are no where to be found. I stash the moto under my pillow and sort through my stuff. I've got no shampoo and head down the street to purchase some and get some food. Once back at the hostel I find the shower and all the warm water I care to enjoy (I could really get used to warm showers). It's 3 pm and I'm clean, I've made my bed I'm full and I want to see London.

Back to the train station where I enjoy the 25 minute ride back into London. At London Bridge I get off to explore the River Thames. I recognize some of the sights and although the area is packed with pale skinned people I hear only a few conversations that I can understand (lots of French, German and a smattering of Asian dialects). Lots of couples holding hands and getting their pictures taken in front of the sights and I'm suddenly very homesick for Shaloy's company. She is spending the weekend with our daughter who lives near Chicago and will be at her family re-union in Midland, Michigan tomorrow. Wander to the Tower bridge, wander to the castle, wander to some of the modern architectures and get some pictures, wander to the memorial to merchant marines who've been lost @ sea. As evening approaches the streets are filling more with couples and groups of friends. I get some food and find an Internet cafe. A search for Irish music and I find a place that has music in the room upstairs from a pub every Saturday night. I get directions and catch an evening bus in the right direction. I'm able to find my location on the map and walk to the pub. It's at the end of a dark street in an area I'd call "Little India" based on the number of hole in the wall Indian restaurants. The streets smelled of curry. As I approach the address an alarm starts to go off. The pub is dark and there is no on around. The alarm is coming from the business next door whose plate glass window was recently shattered by a heavy object. I can hear sirens approaching and decide to stroll away as the London police arrive to investigate. By now it's after 9:30 and I decide to go to the hostel. I'm starting to consider catching an early flight home.

My main issue is that Woolwhich/Arsenal is so far out that it is not on any of the maps that I have or find. I head in the general direction of Southeast London by train. At the end of the line I ask which street bus to take and I'm directed to the bus station down the street. Down the street is a 25 minute walk. The driver suggest I take bus #40, , , , , no bus #38 , , , , no actually you can take my bus to , , , , no , , , really you should walk back to the street and take bus #45 and let the driver know where you want to go and he'll tell you which connector will get you there. Back to the street I see the bus but it won't stop except at a bus stop. I follow it down the street and come to a corner where pedestrians are not allowed to cross. Instead of crossing, I enter a well lit "pedestrian subway" which takes me under the street (to avoid mixing vehicles and pedestrians) but under the street there are 5 options of tunnels. I take my best guess but when I pop up on a street I don't recognize it as being the opposite side of the street I entered. Now I'm really turned around and start to ask directions but the only guy I can find is from Brazil, is also lost and has been looking for the Chinese restaurant and his friends for the past hour (Do I have a cell phone I can lend as his is now dead?). I eventually find a parked bus and ask the driver who tells me to take bus #30 across the river and the driver will tell me where to get the connection. However, he doesn't know which stop #30 will stop at but there are lots of bus stops around the corner and just look at each one until I find one that says #30. I don't find #30 but do find the tube and decide that at least on the tube I can navigate back to London Bridge and catch the train home.

I arrive @ London Bridge station and the first thing I hear over the public address system in the tubes is "Last car on North Line is leaving in 2 minutes!" Great!#$! the tube is closing for the evening. Lucky for me I'm not riding the tube anymore, I'm catching a train. Up the stairs and I quickly see that the entrance to the trains is dark, quiet and obviously has been closed for a while. I'm not in despair as I know there is a system of night buses but which one?? Woolwwich Arsenal is off all the bus maps in central London. I decide #48 will get me in the general direction but where is a bus stop for that bus?? I see the bus and where it stops and dash the two blocks to jump on. "Yes, , , If I ride this bus to where #53 crosses I can get a bus to Woolwhich" It's now well after midnight and the ride takes almost an hour until we reach the crossing where I switch. We've picked up and dropped off many of the revellers who stagger onto and off the bus. They are loud, obnoxious and uncoordinated but they seem to find their way. Thirty five minutes later I recognize that we've just passed the hostel, ask to be let off and walk the few minutes back up the street.

It's close to 2 am and I'm happy to find my bed as I left it. Only four other sleeping bodies are occupying bunks. I assume the rest are the young people I passed on the way to my room. I'm done with London. In the morning I'll take a shower, grab my moto and head to Heathrow first thing and standby until I can catch a flight home.

Link to all of my London Pictures