Battling London’s frigid air, I began the hike back to my flat. I buttoned my jacket to hide my Sunkist Florida skin from the Arctic climate I decided to spend three months in. At 17:00, the sun had already set, something I was not used to having traveled directly from the Sunshine State. I took a few steps before impulsively joining the queue at the bus stop and hopped on the first one that arrived, 10 to Hammersmith.
It has become one of my favorite activities in London, sitting on a bus and riding around the top portion until the double decker cliché arrives at its final destination. Sometimes I wander around the area or jump off at a stop that looks interesting, or cross the street and ride the return bus back to the location of my departure.
Serendipity. Serendipity is not only the name of a delicious restaurant in New York or the title of a speech which won me a trophy taller than myself but also the way in which I try to live each day. As organized and scheduled as my life generally is, I love those moments of spontaneity, of doing something just because at that moment it’s what I want.
So as I stumbled to the top of this mysterious number 10, I was fortunate enough to acquire a bench to myself in the front, allowing a nearly 360-degree view of London. Street lamps illuminated the historic roads winding through the city without rhyme or reason, drops of rain reflecting their light, making the street look magical at this hour.
I had just expressed to a friend the joy in independently discovering a city. I wasn’t entirely convinced that I liked the solitude that accompanies a large city such as London, especially when your flat is at best 20 minutes from anyone. But gazing out the window and rediscovering Oxford Street, Harrods, and Hyde Park, something strange happened.
Maybe it was a muscle twitch, but when my reflection appeared in the window, I noticed a corner of my mouth had inched up, forming a half smile. Had I finally convinced myself what I had been preaching? After speaking to a friend in September who seemed so glad to get away and be independent, to appreciate the beauty of the city she was in, I aspired to emulate that confident, assured disposition.
During my previous summers in New York, I loved independently exploring the city. What was it about London that made me question my secure independence after what always seemed like the perfect afternoon? Perhaps it was the constant streaming of peer activity on my mobile or the knowledge that nearly 50 classmates inhabited the same city.
I’ve spent the past month making new friends, strengthening previous relationships, and taking time for myself to truly embrace the study-abroad experience. I’ll admit that the half smile surprised me because I didn’t realize the extent to which my personal exploration had satisfied a desire I had possessed.
Our obsession with social media has made us feel like if we are alone then we are lonely. The problem with this thinking is that being alone has negative connotations. In fact, books and movies express the exact opposite message – The other night, I was watching Eat, Pray, Love, which explores a woman’s journey across the globe in search of herself. Sure she makes friends along the way, but what she doesn’t forget is to separate herself and eat a plate of spaghetti alone. And enjoy every bite.
If we all put down our phones or stopped sending thousands of signals a day that other people’s presence is the key to satisfaction, we might actually get to enjoy that plate of spaghetti, or fish and chips, or tapas. Without worrying about what others are doing, we have more time to jump on a bus or book a flight to Oslo. The world is enormous – we don’t have time to wait around for that perfect photo of our friends in front of it. Frankly, the world is pretty freaking photogenic on its own.
The next time you begin your travels back after meeting with a friend, try doing something on your own. Jump on your own bus number 10 headed toward Hammersmith. You might be pleasantly surprised by the plate of spaghetti waiting for you at the bus station.
