Arrival in London

The journey to Dhaka started on September 1, 2005. But I figured I would take my time getting there… My trip includes 3 days in London, Denmark for a week, Sri Lanka for two weeks, then a stop over in Bangkok before arriving in Dhaka September 27.

I left the U.S. September 1, 2005. Mother (who will sometimes be referred to as “Mor,” the Danish for mother, which is what I call her), father (aka papa) and I all took different flights to London. It was a bit of a mess meeting at Heathrow because different flights got late at different times, my bag took an age to get there, then once I met up with mor and pop, it took another hour and a half to get the cab, waiting in painful jetlag at 8 in the morning. But alas, we all made it…

My first time to London. I have family there, but they used to live in Wakefield, which is where we’ve visited them. I’d been to the moors and countryside of the Bronte sisters, but my fist time to London. Surprisingly good weather… almost disappointingly good. I’d heard London was nothing but rain and fog, and we had nothing but 75 and sunny… almost felt like I didn’t see the real London…

Nefular Maami and Iqbal Maama (my father’s brother) have a great place… great feng shui. Nelufar Maami had lunch prepared for us. We all took a nap, then went for a nice walk around the neighborhood.

Traveling is intoxicating… traveling is a drug. Drugs stimulate the senses… traveling stimulates all the senses… new sounds, smells, tastes, sights… when we live our everyday lives we become immune to the routine, immune to the nuisances… our senses are actually numbed a bit. But when you go somewhere new you become more aware of the minuscule, of the insignificant. Traveling helps you to live more in the now. Because you can’t help being “drugged” you are physically more alive, more aware of every moment. Traveling is a zen-like experience. It reminds you a bit about how you should really live at all times… mindfully…

For example, the supermarket. Shopping in London with my aunt was great! Such a simple, menial task was a blast. All new products, funny sounding names, different prices… it’s funny how because we associate the Brits with snobbishness and pretentiousness, that things that sounds British, sound pretentious… for example… a building called The Gloucester. I mean, it just sounds old fashion, white-bred, nose high up in the air pretentious... right... anyway.

That night actually made it out to see Chloe, a good friend from Penn, near Kings Cross tube station, at a hookah bar called Sahara Nights. It was of course wonderful to see her. She lives in Manhattan, but was in town for a bachelorette party for a friend from high school… apparently the Brits call it a Hen Party. Traditionally, the bride is tied up in a straight jacket, and has things written on her back, then taken to various bars, etc… good times…

The Fam