{"id":500,"date":"2011-10-18T16:07:00","date_gmt":"2011-10-18T16:07:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/elitemporaryblog.wordpress.com\/2011\/10\/18\/october-14"},"modified":"2015-12-24T17:08:43","modified_gmt":"2015-12-24T22:08:43","slug":"october-14","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/orangette.net\/2011\/10\/october-14\/","title":{"rendered":"October 14"},"content":{"rendered":"
When I was eighteen, I took my first big trip without my parents, and before I left, my mother suggested that I pack a nice notebook to use as a journal. In my normal life, I\u2019ve never been a journal-keeper, but I took her advice, and for roughly fifteen years now, every time I\u2019ve taken a substantial trip, I\u2019ve kept a record of my days. Sometimes I\u2019m a real champ, and I\u2019ll write down every detail: what I overheard in line at the museum, how much I paid for such-and-such, which subway station I was leaving when that handsome man smiled at me and my heinous pink-and-white polka dot umbrella, or, tragically, which subway line I was on when I forgot my heinous pink-and-white polka dot umbrella under the seat. Sometimes I\u2019m less of a champ, and I\u2019ll only write down what I ate. Sometimes I don\u2019t write much at all, and instead I take pictures. I\u2019m not sure how my mother feels, but I think that counts. I take a lot<\/span> of pictures.<\/p>\n I want to thank you for your comments last week<\/a>. I hope this doesn\u2019t sound weird, or what the heck, it probably will, but: you made me feel so taken care of<\/i>. Thank you for that. I\u2019ve been thinking about what you wrote, and I\u2019ve decided that I am<\/i> going to Edinburgh. With a day trip into the Scottish countryside, too, unless the weather puts up a fight. But before that, I\u2019m taking the train to Paris for a few days, because I had my heart set on it. And then, if I can work out the details, I\u2019ll go visit my dad\u2019s best friend Michael and his wife Becky, who now live in France. I only get to see them every few years, and I think of them all the time. When I was fourteen, or maybe I was sixteen, Michael gave me Adrienne Rich<\/a>\u2019s Diving into the Wreck<\/span>, and it was the first book of poetry that I ever really loved. I wonder what he\u2019ll introduce me to next. We\u2019re overdue for a visit.<\/p>\n It hasn\u2019t always come naturally to me, but I\u2019m getting used to this seat-of-the-pants thing.<\/p>\n I\u2019m very glad I came.<\/p>\n October 14 was my first full day in London, and I took the pictures in this post that day.<\/p>\n That morning, I walked along the Regent\u2019s Canal<\/a>, and in the sun, it was almost hot. I stopped for a ginger beer at Towpath<\/a>, and not long after, I saw a barge called The Spirit of Marmalade<\/span>, which made my year.<\/p>\n My friends<\/a> who live in Edinburgh had booked tickets to come to London for the weekend, and they arrived in the early afternoon. We got lunch at Song Que<\/a> and shared some spicy squid, and then, that night, we went for a celebratory dinner at St. John Bread and Wine<\/a>.<\/p>\n I have a piece of advice to pass on: order a dozen madeleines.<\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n
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