Lady Quixote
Blog: A Lady in London - 7 November 2009
I have had a five-weekend hiatus from traveling outside of England. That's not to say that I haven't been busy with moving into a new flat, winning a modeling competition, and exploring more of the English countryside. But. It still feels a little strange to have been in town for such a long time.
In an attempt to combat cabin fever, my boyfriend and I decided to check out a new neighborhood on Sunday. One of our good friends in Hampstead sent us a recent Washington Post article entitled "A Londoner's London," which detailed several neighborhoods that Soho-weary London dwellers could explore on their weekends at home. The #1 neighborhood was Hampstead (done!), so we looked further down the list for somewhere we had not yet visited. The winner was Muswell Hill, a land not far from home.
Our journey to Muswell Hill was a quixotic adventure. I, of course, played the role of Lady Quixote, while my trusty partner took the role of Sancho Boyfriend. (Hey, at least I didn't cast him as Rocinante.)
We began our journey on foot, then quickly employed the use of several modes of public transport. We meandered through the hauntingly beautiful Highgate Wood and passed some pointy-roofed houses before we reached the Hill.
From there we strolled down a set of old forgotten train tracks and over an ancient aqueduct. Eventually we found ourselves in a huge park where we availed ourselves of some gelato and got caught in a freak downpour in the middle of a Cypriot kebab festival (whether Greek or Turkish we couldn't determine).
Damp but not discouraged, we walked past a palace housing an ice rink, a corral housing some spotted deer and a lake chock-full of paddle boats. We saw a skate park being used for parkour and a spray paint "artist" completing a mural on a concrete slab.
Lady Quixote and Sancho Boyfriend continued on the journey into the colorful world of Muswell Hill, heading up up up to the high street and down down down to a farmer's market. Too late to sample the produce, we opted instead for some tapas at the local pub. Falafel and sweet potato wedges stood in for windmills, but we were no less vigorous than Don Q in skewering them.
Our bellies full and our energy flagging, we hailed a bus to take us home. Our Steinbeckian Rocinante faithfully transported us back to Hampstead and reality all at once, and we spent the rest of the evening planning the next of our adventures.
Tomorrow we hit the road once again, but this time we're traveling a bit further afield. Ryanair, our trusty steed of the sky, will whisk us up to Scotland, and after that we'll be traveling every weekend save two between now and September!
In an attempt to combat cabin fever, my boyfriend and I decided to check out a new neighborhood on Sunday. One of our good friends in Hampstead sent us a recent Washington Post article entitled "A Londoner's London," which detailed several neighborhoods that Soho-weary London dwellers could explore on their weekends at home. The #1 neighborhood was Hampstead (done!), so we looked further down the list for somewhere we had not yet visited. The winner was Muswell Hill, a land not far from home.
Our journey to Muswell Hill was a quixotic adventure. I, of course, played the role of Lady Quixote, while my trusty partner took the role of Sancho Boyfriend. (Hey, at least I didn't cast him as Rocinante.)
We began our journey on foot, then quickly employed the use of several modes of public transport. We meandered through the hauntingly beautiful Highgate Wood and passed some pointy-roofed houses before we reached the Hill.
From there we strolled down a set of old forgotten train tracks and over an ancient aqueduct. Eventually we found ourselves in a huge park where we availed ourselves of some gelato and got caught in a freak downpour in the middle of a Cypriot kebab festival (whether Greek or Turkish we couldn't determine).
Damp but not discouraged, we walked past a palace housing an ice rink, a corral housing some spotted deer and a lake chock-full of paddle boats. We saw a skate park being used for parkour and a spray paint "artist" completing a mural on a concrete slab.
Lady Quixote and Sancho Boyfriend continued on the journey into the colorful world of Muswell Hill, heading up up up to the high street and down down down to a farmer's market. Too late to sample the produce, we opted instead for some tapas at the local pub. Falafel and sweet potato wedges stood in for windmills, but we were no less vigorous than Don Q in skewering them.
Our bellies full and our energy flagging, we hailed a bus to take us home. Our Steinbeckian Rocinante faithfully transported us back to Hampstead and reality all at once, and we spent the rest of the evening planning the next of our adventures.
Tomorrow we hit the road once again, but this time we're traveling a bit further afield. Ryanair, our trusty steed of the sky, will whisk us up to Scotland, and after that we'll be traveling every weekend save two between now and September!
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