A Milk Bottle in One Hand

The gush of hot wind raced across my face as I stepped outside the KL 1701 flight from Amsterdam into the London Heathrow Airport looking exactly as I’ve left it six months ago – lackluster and in much need of a creative spruce. The warm and dry summer air teased out any form of comfort that I’ve enjoyed within the vicinity of the plane. The London tube was worse. Devoid of any means of air conditioning, the tube was packed with people who forgot to put on their deodorant for the day. My long blue jeans were ill suited for the environment that greeted me.

Not a good first impression.

I expected a more spring-like summer – the winds dancing gently on the tip of my skin, bringing the much needed coolness that shields me from the sharp rays of the sun; the leaves flutter gently at the tree ends, as if been slowly rocked by an invisible force that runs through them; the ragging eagerness to hit the London Streets, soaking in its majestic glare without any need to vent, “SHIT! This is freaking hot!”

But as soon as I excited the London tube at Greens Park Station, things started to change. – excitement. Euston Square station was just three stops south on the Victoria Blue Line. Soon it’ll be all the familiar scenes again – the long escalator ride up with its side walls covered with small frames of successful musicals; the same row of shops that peppered the corners of Euston Square station as I made way for the exit and into the street.

“Call me when you get here, ok? I’ll just need five minutes to pick you up.” remarked Zhi Wei.

I needed no five minutes.

The imagines were still fresh in my mind, as though I’ve never left this place. My feet swayed the streets, guided only by the tunes of my memories, as I made my way to his dorm. Soon, it was all coming back to me again. The old fashioned black cab – very Mazda looking – that roamed the streets of London, apparently with a very spacious back; the ubiquitous “Look to your right/left” at the beginning of every crossing that I encountered; the thick British accents that filled the empty spaces between the air as people hurriedly chew their sandwiches with a nice cup of Earl Grey Tea.

“YO!” bellowed at figure from a far. I gently carved out a smile.

For once in 6 months, I felt so at home.

***

Under the silent gaze of the starless sky, we head out for a walk along the streets of London. We went where our hearts and feet took us. First to Tesco to get some root beer, only to detour to King’s Cross Station to find the same when Tesco didn’t have them in stock, and only to head back to Tesco when King’s Cross didn’t have them too. We picked two different beverages.

We laughed. We shared stories. We ate supper at Chinatown. We drank our beverages.

He had an orange isotonic drink.

I had a milk bottle in one hand.

Hello London, and God Save the Queen.

Last 5 posts by Jian Wei

• One Minute to Midnight - January 1st, 2011
• Prophecy - December 31st, 2010
• Footprints We Leave Behind - November 4th, 2010
• Budapest: Contradictions Aplenty - August 15th, 2010
• Istanbul Day 3: Masters of Our Universe - August 11th, 2010

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