The First Day Is The Hardest

First impression of London: Brits like to joke and the airport hand soap smells delicious. My hands smell like a spicy vanilla chai. The seven hour British Airways flight flew by. I tried to sleep as much as possible with mixed results.

Follow the signs. This is figuratively as well as literally. Before I arrived in London I had already booked the hostel and mapped out how to get there. I chose YHA St Pancras hostel solely because it was in central London and it was easy to get to from Heathrow airport. All I had to do was follow the signs to the Underground Piccadilly train and get off at Kings St station. Buying the ticket takes a few minutes because 1. I’m tired and 2. The credit card reader confuses my poor American brain. After accidentally canceling the ticket multiple times I sneaked a peek at the gentleman next to me. If you find yourself in a similar situation where the technology is confusing, I recommend taking a few moments to watch, learn, and do as the locals do.

I time my journey perfectly with morning commuters heading into the city. Londoners are mostly dressed in dark colors and are quite fashionable. Many of them are reading a newspaper or a book. I must stand out a bit with my disheveled attire and purple backpack.

Jet lag and fatigue begin to take over and I lean my head against the cool glass pane. It’s 7:30 AM but the sky is only just beginning to lighten. Buildings pass by and all I can see is a dreary fog layer. I close my eyes and count the stops by hearing “Please mind the gap!”

I find the hostel relatively easily to discover that my bed isn’t available until 2 PM. It’s only 9:30 AM and I’m thoroughly exhausted. I stash my stuff in a locker and I’m out attempting to explore. The weather alternates between pouring rain, sun, and wind. After walking aimlessly for a while my emotions get the better of me. I’m tired, lonely, and missing home. While the hostel is convenient, the people are standoffish. The reality suddenly hits me that I am alone on this journey. I chose this, I wanted this challenge, yet the current reality is cold and a bit uninviting.

I’ve heard from multiple people that the first day is the hardest. This comforts me yet also makes the day drag on. I find solace in journaling, blogging, and smiling as much as possible. I start to feel better after a warm cup of tea. I own this challenge, I own this experience, and I will make the best of it.

Determination is a powerful friend.

12 responses to “The First Day Is The Hardest

  1. I understand
    When I start a long passage sailing it’s always been the first night that was the hardest, but after a day or two I get into the grove and towards the end I don’t want it to end.

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  2. You own this. And this journey in the end, you will be a stronger woman then you already are if that is possible πŸ˜‰ Because you are one of the strongest woman I know. I agree with your brother, once you find your groove you won’t want it to stop. Know everyday you are special to so many people and those so many people are with you in spirit thru this journey and are thinking of you everyday. Go get it girl! Grab life and this journey by the horns and ride that SOB!! xoxoxo

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