London

Tired, hungry, and euphoric. This is how I arrived in London midday on the 27th of June. The trip got off to a rocky start, thanks to the 4.5 hour delay before the flight even left Montreal (thank you, Canadian Affair!). The flight itself was fairly uneventful; I was pleasantly surprised at the amount of leg room, and unpleasently surprised that they didn't turn off the cabin lights until about 3 hours into my 6 hour journey. The mixture of bright lights swirled with my giddyness at soon seeing my girlfriend for the first time in 2 months created a sleepless elixir I had no choice but to endure.

I arrived in one piece though, settled into the snaking customs line, and sighed as those with British and European passports breezed on past me, without the customs agent even so much as looking at half of their passports. That complete I picked up my bags and proceeded towards the train exit, where I was expecting to settle into a 45 minute train journey to Victoria station to finally meet Jasmine. But lo and behold, as I strained and read the confusing array of signs and arrows, a white-dressed, curly haired, big brown eyed apparition floated into my peripheral vision. It took several seconds for my brain to actually register that Jazzy was now standing right there in front of me, in person. I had been tricked, in the most pleasent way. The next 45 minutes were a backgroundless blur, as the train rumbled and slid along the tracks. It hadn't even registered that I was in London, until we got to the underground, and I passed the accents of passing commuters.

The sun was shining, so we decided to stop at a cafe for a bite to eat, then off to Hyde park to just lounge in the sun.

(to be continued)