Post #2: ... to Living the Dream!

… to Living the Dream!

Feelings felt: anticipation, wonder, awe, blessed, accomplished

I landed at Heathrow at 6am, bleary-eyed and loaded-down with luggage. (Seriously, I had stuffed things into my jacket sleeves just to carry them, because my suitcases were bursting!) Navigated the train to Paddington, took a black London taxi to my flat... then held my breath as I hobbled over the cobblestones, hoping I had made the right choice for my stay.

Remember how I mentioned securing housing from afar? I had signed an expensive lease, sight unseen, in a semi-co-living property. I would have my own tiny suite in a building with luxurious shared spaces. I never would have considered such an arrangement, if not for the fact that my son had just come out of a true co-living plan in D.C. unscathed! I decided as long as I had my own kitchen and comfy private space, it was worth a try. Thankfully, it exceeded every hope I’d had! I would absolutely recommend this type of setup to other Fulbrighters, digital nomads, researchers, and really anyone who wants access to amenities and social opportunities on more flexible terms.

Our co-working lounges offer hot coffee and quiet jazz, so I was able to pull out my laptop and catch up on emails from the comfort of my new home base. Admittedly, I marveled at the fact that I could work uninterrupted and go to the restroom when needed. Oh, the little things that are out of teachers’ reach in our day-to-day lives! A sauna that evening eased all travel stress away and had me ready to snuggle-in for an early bedtime.

I ventured out the next morning, facing a biting London winter wind and complete bafflement on how to cross the road. (It seems one would just look the opposite way than at home, but it is utterly nervewracking.) A wrong turn and thus a rather long detour became a little adventure. My skin was tingling with anticipation for the bigger adventure awaiting me over the next six months!

I was first searching for the English breakfast standard: beans on toast. But apparently I was still running on U.S. time, because I was informed that I’d missed “brekkie” and would have to settle for a lunch standard instead: chicken & mushroom pasty. For my American friends, that basically translates to Heaven in a Phyllo Pocket. I burned my mouth twice because it was too yummy to allow a cooling-off period! At the corner grocery, I found little glass bottles of Diet Coke and piles of produce and felt like a bonafide local when I pulled my market tote out of my pocket, rather than buying plastic bags.

As I explored my neighborhood that first day, it absorbed me… conversations in mother tongues, unfamiliar spices wafting out of family-run eateries, lovely people just living their daily lives: grandparents pushing carriages, masons & painters on coffee breaks, and shopkeepers sweeping their thresholds. The route home was a meandering one, so I could peek into mews and alleyways and admire buildings older than my home country.

Yes, I’m in my 50s and well-traveled, with plenty of life experience, but it still felt like pretty good headway for settling into this dream!