Friday, 17 June 2011

A London Funk

Here are the reasons you want to travel with Dan and me:

(1) I can read a map like it's a summer beach read, and we don't get lost when I'm on map duty. This seems like an odd thing to be proud of, but a lot of people can't read maps and don't have a very good sense of direction. Also, I can re-fold the damn map when I'm done with it. BOOM, someone award me the Travellin' 4 Life award.

(2) Because of his height, Dan always has a good view of a parade and can get you pictures that would otherwise have just been the backs of people's heads. This means that rather than having to keep jumping up and down to get a glimpse of what's going on, you can lounge by a fountain and listen to the music and look at the pictures later.

(3) We're incredibly easy-going tourists and spend a lot of time sitting down in scenic spots, eating ice cream or drinking beer.

Here are the reasons you don't want to travel with us:

(1) Dan never lets you sleep in.

(2) I make bad footwear decisions and so by necessity we spend a lot of time sitting in scenic spots, eating ice cream or drinking beer.

Okay here's the deal: I hate wearing clumsy ugly running shoes when I'm only exploring a city. And the reason I hate wearing the running shoes is because THEY DON'T MATCH MY OUTFITS.

There, it's out there: I can be as shallow as a kiddy pool.

And no, I'm not fooling myself into thinking that every day is a runway opportunity (puhlease), but when I'm on a city vacation I just like to dress like how I would have when I was home and this means that comfortable and ugly athletic shoes cramp my style. But conversely, and hot damn, and oh-me-oh-my, my style can sure cramp my feet.

As we were packing for this vacation, I eyed up my sensible shoes with the killer arch support and then immediately turned my back on those ugly ducklings. Then by the third day in London, when Dan walked and I hobbled back to the B&B after having been out for fifteen straight hours, I was convinced that the burning pain I felt was an indication my feet had dropped off. I think I'd lost them somewhere around the Globe Theatre.

The next morning Dan asked if I'd brought anything other than the pair of flats that I was lurching around in. So I opened my bag and removed...a pair of wedges. Oh the shame. The shame! There's nothing more humiliating then looking at your husband's comical eye-roll and realizing you really are the most incompetent fool that ever lived.

But I can read maps! I want the Travellin' 4 Life award!

Sorry self, but if you can read a map but can't walk to the destination, you aren't even going to get nominated for that badass prize.

These shoes are now molded to the shape of my feet. That means they're now curled up like a fist.
Also, they're gross because my tourist foot sweated through nylon socks.
Dan and I say that they're our only souvenir that carries a 'London funk' with it.
You are so welcome for the above visuals and descriptions.

It was a great relief to me that on our last day in London, we planned to see the changing of the guards ceremony. This meant that I could sit down while we watched the parade. After touring Westminster Abbey in the morning, we quickly made our way over to Buckingham Palace to try and get a spot on the Queen Victoria memorial to sit down.

There was a lot of people there, but I found a solid spot.


Dan didn't trust sitting down, so he staked a spot out on the sidewalk, and then we waited for forty minutes for the event to begin. Once it started I joined Dan, but I didn't have a great view. After standing for about twenty minutes and seeing a few different troops march by, my burning feet in their London funk shoes needed a break, so I went back to sit at the fountain while we waited for the next half of the ceremony.


It a long time.

Then we saw the Queen's husband. He came on the balcony for 4.5 seconds, waived, and went back inside.

It was really cool.

Then we waited some more.

I took a long time.

Then finally, the cavalry (or whatever they're called) rode by.


The guards did their changing-up thing behind the palace gates while the marching band played some funky music.


The old guards left the palace, and it was all over.


After having stood for almost two hours, Dan comfortably ambled up to me, who had been sitting for almost two hours.

"Well, it's lunch. Where do you want to go?"

"Uh," I said rubbing my still throbbing feet, "Want to grab a picnic and go sit in the park for an hour?"

So that's what we did.

Then we ate ice cream.


T said...

haha, oh Caitie, I laughed out loud at this entry and had to share it with Ben. Who responded with "Well the shoes have to match the purse!" (he wasn't making fun of you, he is actually more into fashion than I am!)...and then I scrolled down and seen the pictures of your shoes and purse (which is really cute!)and had to laugh out loud again.

I would definitely like travelling with you guys!

Habebi said...

LOL When I first saw the title of this post I was thinking you were in a funk about not being in London anymore!! Hahahaha!! You got me there.

I too am prone to making poor shoe decisions. I hate tennis shoes with a passion and like you I feel that they would cramp my style.

So I definitely would love traveling with you!! I'd be rubbing my feet and having Dan take pictures for me. Sounds perfect! ;-)

Ais said...

The changing of the guards looks really cool! Do they do that big production every single day??? That would be so much work!