A Rainy Day Café

I spent yesterday walking to a mart for food, unpacking my clothes, setting up WhatsApp, and mapping out pubs before falling into a cozy, jet-lagged sleep. I woke up this morning, therefore, without any plans…unless I really wanted to start with a heavy list of pubs on day one. I did not.

I also spent yesterday in a comfortable panic. I say comfortable because of two things. One, I knew what I was panicking about and it was that I was actually here - about 50% of me was sure I wouldn’t make it to London. Two, it was comfortable because all I had to do on day one was the upkeep stuff. Unpack, find food, sleep. I didn’t feel the need to begin running around town, it was “o.k.” if I took a moment to settle in.

This morning, day two and full-day number one in London, my panic went from comfortable to uncomfortably noticeable. I was here, like for real for real here, and now I needed to do something.

Now, I know, I don’t “need to do” a damn thing. I am (a) here for six months and have so much time to do or not do whatever I want and, (b) am here for myself and no one else. I do not “need” to go out and make memories for others…and if I don’t want to feel rushed into this experience, then by gosh I will not be rushed! That is the logical conclusion to this spell of anxiety. That should be it, I should feel comforted now. No more panic, right?

I was messaging my brother yesterday and this exact topic was brought up in conversation. He mentioned that he was proud of my move, that he saw it as a “brave thing to do”. To which I responded, rather honestly but also as a way to quickly steer away from the compliment, that “brave” felt undeserving. What I was doing, from a different point of view - my point of view - was reckless. I thought of this move as a potential disappointment to anyone who thought it a brave act. My brother, Brandon, a very forward person, used a few expletives to respond and, in summation, told me that the only person I should worry about disappointing was me. “If all that comes of this trip is a love of warm beer and a slight accent, but you had a good time, then the trip was a success”. I said thanks and went along with my day. It was a reassuring notion, but not one I’d entirely embraced yet.

O.k., so back to the panic. This morning, my first full-day in London. I woke up at about 7:30 am. I looked at my phone - email notifications, the weather, WhatsApp, Instagram - all to avoid making a decision about what I was going to do today. Finally, by 8am, I decided to at least get up and get dressed. I also chose to dress well - pretty and simple clothes to give myself confidence and comfort. An oversized sweater, some tight jeans, some steady boots and a favored pair of earrings for that extra pizazz! Nothing too overstated, nothing too flashy. Surprisingly, the outfit choice did help, but the panic returned as the final jacket came on. That was it, I was dressed, all the stalling had run its course - what on earth was I going to do today? What was I going to do to make this an impactful, glamorous, start-the-trip-with-a-bang kind of day?

To be honest, I don’t know when I made the decision to finally listen to my brother about not giving a damn about expectations, but at some point after the jacket was on but before I opened the front door, I decided…fuck it! I wanted coffee and breakfast. That’s it. I am a simple woman with simple needs and hadn’t had coffee in 24 hours so damn it, I was going to find coffee. Maybe it was just hunger that motivated me, but that was enough to get me out the door, blissfully, without a full day's plan.

I took a walk. 8 minutes, one earbud in, half-listening to an episode of The Daily about post-Roe America. I walked in a brisk but pleasant morning air, taking note of the sound of seagulls mixed with park birds - that was new. I played a game on my walk - try to walk on the left side of the road to get used to the traffic direction. I went at a saunter, a leisurely pace opposite to that of my normal hurried, head-down scurry.

I made it to the coffee shop, ordered a cinnamon bun (surprisingly but pleasantly salty, like a chocolate chip cookie with flakes of sea salt on top to hold back an overpowering sweetness) and a cappuccino. I took up residence at an outside table with an overhang and a heat lamp above me - warm but not stuffy. I took out a journal, num. 2 pencil (I’m old fashioned), a gum eraser (old fashioned or not, those pencil erasers suck) and began to sketch a building a few yards away just as the morning clouds let loose a small drizzle, then a light rain.

Writing this now, I realize just how perfect that moment was, how like a daydream it felt. Sitting at a sleepy cafe, no more earbud in my head, roughly sketching an understated but fair pub facade while watching locals walk in the rain without hat,umbrella, or complaint. I got to listen to the music choices of the cafe workers and silently laugh as they berated a co-worker over not knowing a very recognizable Joji song that was playing.

This is the Europe I had pictured in my mind when I decided to come. This was the London I wanted to take home with me when I left. When people ask that timeworn, harmless but sometimes rankling question, “what is your safe place or favorite place to be in the whole wide world?”, this was genuinely what I always pictured. A small cafe, journal open, light rain, conversational ambience, the occasional pup prancing past. I didn’t realize I had so aptly pictured my favorite place without having experienced it. Kudos to me.

The wind picked-up after 30 minutes or so, and so did the rain. I took my cappuccino with me, went the long way home, walked a bit around a local park and got back to the Airbnb just before I started shaking from the cold. It truly is a bone-chilling cold that just settles in over time. I checked my weather app immediately to see when I could escape back outdoors - 90% chance of rain all day. Guess I should’ve seen that coming. But I wasn’t deterred.

I took off the wet boots and jacket, made a cup of tea and started journaling, with the full intent that I wouldn’t get another chance to journal today. I’m too excited. Sounds dumb, but once I’m done here, I’m going to google “how to get an oyster card” and “things to do in London in the rain”. I’ll bet staying in the rain, without catching cold, is how I’ll learn to live around here. Hell, as I pranced home around the park, I was surprised to see the number of people just going about their day in the rain, enjoying the park as I would on a 70 degree summer day. So, when in Rome…

Gonna need a few more layers. Should probably work that out now.

Cheers - until next time.

e