Sleepless in London... Or just sleepless in General!

The man wearing a (high-lighter yellow) motorcycle helmet gestures for me to go ahead of him in line... he was very soon regretting this, I would imagine, as I struggled vainly to seperate the American coins from the UK and from the several random sets of keys I'm keeping in my change purse... I do this, but it has been more than three years since I've been in England, and my grasp of British currency has never been particulary strong (am I the only one who gets confused by this? there seem to be endless numbers of no longer circulating coins regularily circulating!).

I am back in London. The thing that always astounds me about London is that no matter how long since I've been here, or how long I'm staying, or if I'm in an area I know or not, coming here always feels like coming home. This is perhaps even more striking considering that some of my worst naviagational crisis ever have taken place here (I don't think I was on Blogger 4 years ago when I arrived off a bus from Scotland at 6 AM and spent nearly 5 hours wandering around with all my luggage because --not only was I too stubborn to call a cab, but-- I genuinely believed that I was on the right track... tracks...

It's been a year since my last "hardcore" trip, and stepping off the plane today --once again at 6 AM-- completely lacking in sleep and disoriented (due to lack of sleep?) and praying I make it onto the tube before rush hour and that the bottle of Coke Light I accidently left in the side pocket of my backpack has not exploded (it hadn't!), I am fascinated how natural it all feels.

Natural, I should point out, does not mean it feels smooth or easy. Before I'd even left the airport I managed to break one of the keys to the lock on my backpack --get this-- in the lock, which is on my backpack! So... how exactly am I going to deal with that one, do you figure? Then there is also the fact that I managed to take the wrong exit to the subway station not once but 3 times (there was no sign! this one was not my fault!), and once I did find it, and hunt down my hostel I learn that the check in time is not until 2, which is... a rather disheartening number of hours away, considering that I HAVEN'T SLEPT...

So where am I now? God alone knows. I mean... I hope he does, I don't really know. All I know is I set out in a direction and the buildings have gotten taller and from time to time I pass a subway station. To tell the truth it doesn't matter to me right now. It's all about being out, being "about". Perhaps it will matter to me when I try to get back? But one thing at a time.

I am afraid this is coming out like a complaint, and it really isn't. In fact, that's actually my point-- I'm in a remarkably good mood. There is something about the strain and the chaos and ridiculous only-me mishaps that agrees with me. It's like it's become automatic, so something in me senses it, from the first curious wandering step I take outside my own backyard... is this a guardian angel's "Uh oh-- there she goes, better keep an ironic eye on her!" Maybe. Though I tend to picture it somewhere amidst the cogs and whistles of my being: here-- breathe, here-- think, here-- get lost, get back... Perhaps that makes no sense?

After all, I am very tired!

Ta.

N.