London Reflections (and a Flock of Hope)

Today is my second (or maybe third?) day with a sore throat and strep infection. I’m having a hard time swallowing and speaking. I had meant to study and make progress on my collaborative projects or coursework—but then I remembered I still needed to write my London reflections.

Before we get to London, though, I should share something closer to home: we now have a flock of parakeets. A total of five babies have hatched, and there are more eggs being kept warm under their mama. Their names so far are Pamuk (Cotton), Şeker (Candy), Bulut (Cloud), Umut (Hope), and—hmm—I seem to be blanking on the fifth name.

Watching parakeet eggs hatch and seeing how those fragile, unformed bodies turn into delicate, pretty birds has been unexpectedly moving. Human babies are also most vulnerable as newborns—yet somehow, also the cutest. There’s something timeless about the merhamet (compassion) that arises from vulnerability.

I’ll let you think a bit more about birds and compassion, while I return to my London reflections.

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We stayed in London for five days, in a hotel that—later we learned—was near a hub where many Turkish people live. My first impression of London was that rules are taken very seriously. Everyone seemed careful, cautious—even slightly afraid—of tickets, rules, and maybe even undercover police.

My second impression was how cosmopolitan it felt. I kept wondering, Where are the original Londoners? Maybe they moved out, or maybe they came to the U.S.? I saw more visibly Muslim women (in full hijab) than I was used to seeing even in Antalya. Later, we learned that many immigrant communities have their own sections: Pakistani, Turkish, Arab, and so on.

The iconic double-decker bus ride was fun, and seeing the city from the London Eye was also pleasing—although my eyes kept searching for the blue-green waters of Istanbul. Instead, the Thames was a muddy brown. As we were rushing to make to our London Eye ticket time, we walked by the Big Bang and quickly snapped some photos. We did not have a chance to get to the Buckingham Palace.

Londoners, I noticed, weren’t particularly into fashion or looking chic, but they were definitely into musicals and shows. On a boat tour, we were told there’s even a “stand-up” show where you literally stand to watch. Every corner seemed to be a theater—unlike Paris, where every corner was a boulangerie. Londoners also seemed less fit than Parisians. You can easily spot “American-like” people in London, too. Maybe one culprit is the widespread fish and chips culture. Even our hotel check-in came with a massive chocolate chip cookie. The label said “2000 calories are recommended for adults.” I’m sorry—but if I eat 2000 calories every day, I’ll get very chunky.

We explored Oxford Street, and found a TK Maxx (which is the UK version of TJ Maxx). My daughter was thrilled to find two dresses. My husband met up with his friends, and one of them took us to a fancy restaurant called Mantl. Afterwards, we had desserts at Hafiz Mustafa 1864, a Turkish sweet shop with a long family history—and the flavors to prove it. Normally I wouldn’t go to such places, but since my husband’s friend paid, I was more than okay :)

We visited Hyde Park and a few famous museums. But toward the end of our trip, we all started getting sick—one by one. It’s hard to enjoy a vacation when someone is always feeling unwell. That said, the boat tour gave us lovely views of the Tower Bridge, which turned out to be far more impressive than the London Bridge (yes, the one from the nursery rhyme).

We also went up to the Sky Garden to see the city from above and enjoy the greenery—but by then, I was very tired and sick.

One small highlight that brought me genuine joy: I found a lemon squeezer made in Turkey. The shop was full of colorful plastic items I remembered from my childhood. Shopping with my mom in Antalya’s open bazaars, I loved seeing the legen (wide basins), the gırgır (crumb sweepers), and the colorful tuzluk (salt shakers). My version of window shopping as a child was watching my mom ask the seller, “How much is this?” and hoping we’d bring something home.

On our last night, we walked by a Canal near our hotel and discovered the boathouses—homes floating right on the water. That was a first for me. There was also a splashing water park at the end of the walk, where the water danced as if dancing to music in bursts and sprays.

London probably has much more to offer, but we aren’t yet the type of family to sit through a full musical with three kids in tow. Still, it was a special trip.

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And back at home, our parakeet named Hope (Umut) is doing well. I think I named it that way because I needed hope myself. Maybe I was hoping the bird would give me some.

After a whole month of celebrating Maybes, June has become a ride of Hope.

How has your June been?

Did your hydrangeas bloom?

Did you get a chance to take some photos?