Magical Mystery Tour

April 27
I concluded my first week in London with an absolutely magical Sunday. I think I can look back and say that this day was one of the best days of the trip and maybe one of the best days of my life.
I started with a full English breakfast, which consists of eggs, bacon, sausage, toast, tea, and baked beans. Around London you see many signs advertising “Full Breakfast All Day.” It actually doesn’t look too different from many American breakfasts, except for the baked beans. You can get these breakfasts at one of many thousands of little greasy diners on every street.
I then went on a Beatles tour. I had gone on one of these tours my first time in London, but I still wanted to go again. A rather barmy man named Richard operates these walking tours. You meet him at a particular Underground station entrance at a specific time, and he takes you walking around to Beatles sites around London. Richard has horrible teeth, a horrible haircut, and carries around a photo of himself and Paul McCartney like some kind of talisman. This magical mystery tour took in the Beatles’ offices at Savile Row, where they performed their last show on the roof; Paul McCartney’s offices at Soho Square; the “birthplace of Beatlmania,” a particular theater, Trident Studios, where the group recorded “Hey Jude;” Carnaby Street, the center of Swinging London; and of course, as the piece de resistance of the tour, Abbey Road.
I love how these tours show the camaraderie and understanding that exists between fellow Beatle fans. For example, crossing Abbey Road is extremely difficult, but Beatle fans gladly exchange cameras and take patient pictures while you cross and recross the zebra stripes. We Beatle fans kindly take each other’s pictures on the steps of the actual studio building, because we know how important it is. I exchanged cameras with a young Indian man, and though we came from vastly different places and didn’t know each other’s names or anything else, we shared our love for the Beatles.
Abbey Road is located in a leafy suburban neighborhood, and the studio buildings themselves stand between ordinary houses. Despite the neighborhood, the road itself is quite busy, and no stoplights or stop signs give any kind of guard to the crosswalk. And while the photographer of the official cover got to stop traffic and stand on a ladder in the middle of the street, fans today must stand on a traffic island slightly off-center from the road. All these things make an effective photograph rather hard to take.
But nevertheless, Abbey Road truly feels like a special place. You can walk behind the gates into a small carpark; a set of steps leads up to the entrance. And I just thought about if I had lived in the 60s—would I have waited here for them to come out? I kept thinking of the magical room just beyond those doors where they created the songs that have meant so much to me. A wall separates the courtyard from the sidewalk, and on this wall visitors have written the most wonderful messages—messages of thanks and of peace and of love to the Beatles. Some simply draw flowers, while others say that someone “was here.” The managers of the studios have to paint over this wall every few months because so many well-wishers have expressed their feelings. It truly warms my heart to see so much love and gratitude. Paul was definitely right about love: what you make will equal what you take. Thousands of people come to Abbey Road to return the love that they have taken from the Beatles.
After the Beatles tour I spent an enlightening and entertaining afternoon at Speaker’s Corner. On Sundays, any individual can come to a corner of Hyde Park and speak his or her mind on any subject without threat from authorities. Both Karl Marx and George Orwell made use of this free speech landmark. Some of the speakers I saw spoke about legitimate things—the Iraq War—while some just babbled incoherently. I saw a younger man holding up signs that read “Free Hugs” and “I Am An Attention Whore. Look at Me.” I made for this man.
No one was taking the offer of the free hug, so I decided to be the first. Yes, I got a free hug from a total stranger on Speaker’s Corner in London. And it was a very nice hug. I spent the next hour talking to Phil, for that was the man’s name. I had an absolutely terrific time talking to Phil, and I honestly felt that I had a genuine conversation with him. At one point, a rather drunken old little man with missing teeth joined our conversation and said that I looked “dangerous.” He told Phil, “she looks dangerous.” I took this as a compliment. I actually had an intelligent, somewhat philosophical conversation with Phil, with some joking and flirting mixed in. He wanted my opinion, as an American, on Britain. I told him how much I loved Britain and how seeing people picnicking had restored my faith in humanity. He seemed to like my points and responded well to my comments. Talking with Phil was truly a wonderful experience and one of the high points of my time in London. I just loved the fact that I could approach a complete stranger and yet within an hour, just through friendly talking and conversing, come to a true understanding and connection. I don’t know where I could have that experience in America. I truly loved it, and I would love to talk to Phil again.
I then spent two hours watching the incredibly gorgeous sunset over Parliament. I walked and sat on the walkway on the other side of the river, listening to the Beatles while the sun slowly sank behind the spires. I listened to the second side of Abbey Road and most of the Beatles’ 1 CD. The songs sounded simply amazing. With Parliament and Westminster Bridge as my backdrop, I don’t know if those songs ever sounded better. It felt, in a word, magical. Something in the light and the way the light moved, the pink cotton candy clouds, and the way the sky slowly deepened from blue to purple to gray to black just felt magical. I took photos all the while, documenting the changing contrast of the towers against the fire-lit sky. I tried to recreate the look of that painting by Monet.
And so romantic! I thought longingly of a certain someone and wished he could be there with me. I thought about walking across the bridge with him watching the sun set. I took a photo for a French couple and wished it was him and I there. I was wearing a black overcoat over a pair of shorts, and I felt so stylish and sexy, with the breeze blowing up the edges of my belted overcoat. Standing on the bridge in my sexy outfit, I felt like a model in a photoshoot or an actress in a movie. I felt, in a word, like a star. With the twinkling lights and pink clouds, I felt glamorous and romantic enough for magazines and movies. It may just be the most glamorous and sexy I’ve ever felt.
When the sun’s light dies down enough, Parliament becomes lighted from beneath—somewhere down around its base, lights come up to illuminate it from below. And this is just as beautiful as when the sunset lights it from behind. I do believe that it must be the most beautiful urban skyline I’ve ever seen. I am so glad I took the time to watch this gorgeous sunset. It made me very, very happy.