I'd never really felt the urge to visit London. It seemed a bit too familiar, and maybe too big, and there was nothing in particular I was dying to see in the city. Once we'd made the journey over the Atlantic, I reasoned, there were plenty more exotic places I'd rather visit. But Todd had a tournament in England, so we decided to give London a chance, beginning and ending our three-week trip in the city.
Usually planning a trip will get me excited about going there, but researching London left me feeling a bit defeated. Even searching many months in advance, apartments were extremely expensive and the selection was sparse. I dug through hundreds of unattractive, overpriced options before finding something in Hampstead, a village-like area a few miles from the city center. I began to compile a map of museums, parks, attractions, and restaurants to see during our stay, but I was overwhelmed by the scope of the city. I was still unsure about London when we stepped off the plane at Heathrow.
It was a rough start. We were all worn out from the flight, so I wanted to cry when we found that the customs line was hours long. Oli quickly got fidgety, Todd started feeling sick, and we miserably wound our way through the line as best we could. When we finally got through, we found the driver of the airport transfer we'd arranged in advance (we weren't about to deal with public transportation after that flight), and he rushed us to his car impatiently—he'd been waiting for hours. After stopping to let Todd puke on the side of the road (something about airplane food, red wine, and jetlag), the driver dropped us off at our Airbnb in Hampstead. I quickly passed out in the bed while Todd took our wide-awake toddler on a walk.
Things improved significantly after a nap. Hampstead was completely charming, and we were in the heart of it. Hampstead Heath, a sprawling park, was just a block from our apartment, with a large playground, woodland trails, and a big hill with views of the city. There was a retail district near our apartment with a perfect little 19th-century pub, coffee shops, and a Marks + Spencer, an upscale grocery that we visited daily. A bit farther away, the Hampstead high street had cute boutiques and cafes, the sidewalks filled with happy people enjoying the warm, sunny weather.
Much as we loved it, we knew we couldn't stay in Hampstead the entire time, so we took the train into the city the next day. Getting into London proper took a long time, and Oli was struggling to get out of his stroller by the time we got out at London Bridge station. We grabbed lunch (and Pimm's Cups to-go) at a little market, then walked along the Thames a bit before finding a little park by the London Eye to have our picnic. We people-watched, then joined the flood of tourists walking along the river.
The crowds thickened as we neared the Palace of Westminster, and I couldn't help but think of the terrorist attack that had happened on the very bridge we were crossing. It was hot, crowded, and Oli didn't want to be in his stroller or carrier—he wanted to walk. We decided to head to St. James's Park for a bit of space. Eventually he got back in his carrier and fell asleep, and we walked by Buckingham Palace before making a quick stop at one of the museums, where we were admonished by a security guard for not having shoes on Oli (he'd lost one in the park). I wanted nothing more than to drop into a pub for a pint, but at that point, our son was officially done, and we started making the long journey back to Hampstead.
The next day was one I'd been dreading: Todd was going to a tournament two hours away, and Oli and I were flying solo for the day. I was nervous to be in an unfamiliar place alone, but determined to get out and make the most of the day. I strapped him into his stroller and we walked toward Hampstead's high street for lunch, taking our time looking at the beautiful houses and gardens along the way. We shared a sandwich at a little tea room, bought a couple of things at a bookshop, and found a farmer's market. Later that afternoon, we walked to the heath together and played in the grass. We missed Todd, but had a lovely little day on our own, and I was proud of us—even if we had kept things fairly simple.
We headed into London again the next day, feeling a bit as if it was our duty to do so. We spent the day checking things off our list: Tower of London, Borough Market, Covent Garden, the Tate Modern. Many of the attractions we wanted to see were spread far apart, and we spent a lot of time walking, trying to keep Oli happy between his stroller, carrier, and his increasing desire to walk (very slowly and rather unsteadily) himself. When we left for Paris the next day, we weren't sad to leave London behind.
We returned a few weeks later, determined to give the city a fair chance. This time, we booked a place near Portobello Road in a converted dairy barn. We were worn out from our travels and mentally preparing for our flight back home, but we made the most of our last day by browsing the stalls at the Portobello Road market and walking around Hyde Park, including the Diana Memorial Playground.
I've found that first visits to big cities are often a bit disappointing. I didn't love Paris the first time I went, and I hated Barcelona. Now, they're two of my favorite cities. I just spend too much time trying to see the must-sees, tire myself out, and miss out on what actually makes those places so special. Maybe London will be like that?