The Living Places

Its day five of our whirlwind tour of England and since waking up we’ve seen the Apollo Victoria Theatre, which we’ve learned is not the same as the Old Vic; both Westminster Cathedral and Abbey, which it seems are not the same thing; and Big Ben of which, luckily, there was only one.
We’re hungry, tired, and one girl has developed a noticeable limp.

Across the bridge we’re huddled together outside the London Eye when it strikes: traveller’s luck. There’s been a mix-up, and our tickets aren’t for another hour. Us girls see it for what it is – an opportunity to improvise.

Without discussion we have our plan: distract the chaperones, while the rest of us to take our sandwich supplies (purchased at the Tesco outside Westminster tube station) to Jubilee Garden just a few feet away.

The plan is a success, and one ‘accidentally’ ripped Tesco bag later we’ve got the chaperones seated on the grass and food being passed around. And most importantly? A whole hour where no adults can boss us around about where to go and how fast to get there. Brilliant. We’re absolute geniuses.

I’m halfway through lunch when I notice the quiet. Absolute silence. Not in the park – kids are laughing, cars are honking, the Top 40 is playing - but our little group has fallen completely silent, something I didn’t think we could do. For the first time in nearly a week, no one is bickering or fighting with a map. We’re all just sitting there, watching, soaking things in. Experiencing.

Up until this point everything has been a tourist attraction, a scene from a fashion magazine, or the latest movie. It’s been make-believe. But sitting here in this park, everything has slowed down, has become more real. The people aren’t extras in a film.

Julia Roberts isn’t about to come around the corner, covered in Orange Juice with a travel book in hand.

The silence only manages to last a few minutes (what more do you expect with a group of teenagers), but the point has been made. We finish our sandwiches, and jostle our way to the London Eye - complete with fear of heights, a public proposal, and a lost bag. Two days later in a town no one knows the name of we stop for another picnic.

Seven years down the line, and I still going looking for those little parks - the spots where you get to see the places you go for who they really are.