Our first activity on the docket, in London, was a walking tour of the “old town”; the rest of the night didn’t necessarily go as planned. When we got to the meeting point for our walking tour, there seemed to be one thing missing. The tour guide. I saw the pure furry in sweet Mie’s eyes, as if the most catastrophic wrongdoing had occurred. I’ve picked up on Danish punctuality throughout my time in Cope; and Mie certainly did not seem happy with the situation. What was funny was the juxtaposition of our entire class standing around wide-eyed, mesmerized by the whacky street performers, next to our teacher red in the face covering her mouth against the phone tightly pressed to her rosy cheek and squishing her ear, clearly trying to hide the fact that the person on the other end was probably scared out of their skin. What ended up happening was Mie excusing us and giving us free time to explore on our own until dinner.
Then. Oh then. Funny stuff.
I was walking with a big group from my class; we went to get macaroons and enjoy this one street performer that seemed to be monopolizing the audience. So, as we’re watching this amazing magician stand on top of four plastic platforms divided by cylinder balls. I can’t paint a perfect picture of what he was doing, but just picture a sea of people all with their eyes glued to this man juggle femur-length knives about thirty five feet in the air. It was bloody mad as the brits would say. Anyways, I too was intently watching, as he attempted to add another level onto his crazy platform performance. He got wobbly, then wobblier, then wobblier, than BAM he did it. I whipped my head around and yelled “WOAH, did you guys see that?!?!?” … “Guys?” … Crickets. They had disappeared. I later learned that it was an innocent mistake, but yes, I lost my classmates and was standing there all alone with 10% battery on my phone. Awesome.
To make a long story short, the restaurant was approximately 3.5 miles away and I had a few hours to kill, so I decided to walk it. Luckily, not much from first grade resonated with me and I felt perfectly comfortable talking to strangers to ask for directions. PLUS, it happened to be the night of the annual Sunday Night Football game in London, so there were lots of Seattle Eagles floating walking around. And a frick ton of other teams as well, more than I would’ve expected that’s for darn sure! I was doing well and dandy with directions, and felt safe, but my phone was in fact dying a quick death. Now, all I have to say is BEAR DOWN because right when my phone died and I wasn’t quite sure if I needed to go straight or take a left to get to the pub where my class was meeting for dinner, I spotted a loyal fan in a Chicago Bears jersey. Anyone sporting the rookie superstar BEAST Kaleal Mack was a trustworthy individual; “Go Bears,” I shouted. Yea, I know, what a clever attention grabber. But it worked! The kind man turned around and reciprocated the team spirit by yelling "Go Bears mate" back at me. That was my chance. I needed directions! That was when I admitted my ignorance to not knowing my way around the city and asked for help. He told me not to worry and gave me perfectly clear instructions on how to get near the pub for which I was looking. We walked a few blocks together, exchanging favorite Bears memories, and before I knew it, I was sitting in The Minories Pub with my whole class enjoying a burger and watching the game.
Remember kids, never talk to strangers... Unless the stranger is a fellow * insert home city * sports fan. Then it's ok.