Three days into my London experience and I'm already starting to feel at home.
One of my favorite parts about this city is its rich heritage. It is written in the pages of many great authors, engraved in the walls of buildings, experienced in every conversation. You catch glimpses of it in between buildings, through different people. It lives in unexpected places. You have to find it, search, learn to appreciate. It's there, but not everyone sees it.
The heritage is in the church service at Westminster Abbey when the sun shines through the stained glass as the choir sings acapella filling the wide space with a heavenly melody only experienced by those right then, at that moment. It was as close to an angelic as I could have ever imagined. To walk the steps that so many kings and queens have walked to take on the responsibility to their country and to yet, see a grave of a serviceman buried at the Abbey, nameless and yet honored by all who walk on those marble stone for fulfilling his duty to his God, family and country, was something of a motivator to play my part, to live with integrity and excellence.
The heritage is in sitting in your flat from the 17th century sipping tea with the window wide open listening to people talk on the street while reading British literature.
The heritage is in eating at a pub, where the reason your there becomes less about being hungry, or needing a drink, and more about the relationships you have and the people you love.
The heritage is in waking up to London drizzle.
The heritage is in smelling the roses in the park.
The heritage is in watching the boats float by on the Thames.
The heritage is in noticing the carvings, gold and sculptures on every single building. All of these, hand made, cherished and meant not only for functional use, but for aesthetic pleasure.
The heritage is in riding the tube and remembering the bravery and courage of all the people that sought shelter in this place during World War II.
The heritage is in listening to children talk on the tube.
The heritage is in shopping in tiny antique shops and book sellers while the old man who own the store sips tea and watches you finger through first editions of 100 year old books.
The heritage is in the sudden rain storm and the warm sun after it passes.
The heritage is in the bakeries filled with tasty delights and espresso for the afternoon.
The heritage is in the bagpiper playing his heart out at the National Gallery of Portraits.
The heritage is in the voices of so many cultures all going to one place,...London.
This is the part of London I love. I want to know why so many people before me have loved this city. I want to open my eyes. I want to notice the small, the beautiful, the lovely, the sweet, the true.
This is my goal.
Until next time,
Carry on.
Bethany Berger
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