England: Logan Hanson (Dérive)

Dérive

The ceremonial county of Greater London, comprised of roughly 9 million inhabitants, 1,572 square kilometers of land, and over 95,000 streets, all divided among its 32 boroughs and the City, is expectedly enormous. Yet, between arrival and departure, I’ll likely only uncover a small percentage of this great city. London is home to so much culture and history that I find it hard to avoid the unassuming avenues and quaint little mews; it is as intriguing as relaxing. I favor taking the less-traveled path, even if it’s while going to class or getting coffee.

Now, I love central London; there are plenty of places to go and always something to do. But, as someone who grew up in a town of 1,500 people, city life has just been dragging on me after these last couple of weeks. So, one afternoon, I just decided to “get lost” and go as far as possible (for free, of course). I had wanted to visit this coffee shop for a while now, and I knew it was a good way North, six miles or so. Yes, this would be the perfect excuse for a getaway. Sure, the shop would’ve been closed when I arrived, but I didn’t care. I knew getting out of the dorms, and Kensington altogether, would benefit me. Plus, I knew I’d eventually be coming for a coffee anyhow, so getting a lay of the land seemed like a grand idea.

The Victoria Line took me as far as Finsbury Park Station. From then on, the trek was on foot. I let myself wander, still making my way towards the cafe, but barely. I let my frantic mind enjoy the park and take whichever path seemed the most appealing. Finsbury Park is no rival to the likes of Hyde Park nor the Royal Kensington Gardens, with their plethora of paved paths and wonderful waterways, but Finsbury felt more homely. Indeed, it could’ve been the lack of tourists, but I full-heartedly believe that the half-dead grass, cracked pavement, and mangled trees all added to the mystique: less pretentious and more inviting. The people there were real; they had character. You could hear the yells and cries from children’s baseball practice. A myriad of different people could be seen jogging, biking, exercising, and trying to improve themselves. Some couples smiled through whispered discussions and others sat through calm silence. A family sat around a bonfire, roasting marshmallows. Dogs disobeyed their owners and were chasing pigeons. It was a microcosm of the human condition: imperfect yet comforting.

Outside the park, the town was more of the same. Weary houses that would’ve looked quite nice tens of years ago but now show heavy signs of use. Businesses looked equally worn, but the shops and restaurants still bustled with character. After some hundreds of feet, I found myself on a footbridge, crossing over a dozen or so train lines, and on the other side, there was a somewhat jarring contrast.

Nestled in neat, little rows sat hundreds of houses and shops made from the same clean, red brick and neat paneling. Compared to the other side, this was a model town. You could smell the affluence in the air. Sure, occasionally, you could pick out a house that didn’t fit, that hasn’t had the same upkeep, but the overall aesthetic was unwavering.

Heading towards the setting sun, I finally reached the peak of a hill and saw, sprawled out before me, the town of Hornsey. But something else captivated my attention. Not the beautiful sunset nor any part of the town, but somewhere caught in between, on a hill in the distance, was an enormous palace shimmering in the sunlight. Completely rapt, like a moth to a flame, I started drifting towards it. It could’ve been a mile away or five, and I still would’ve tried to get there.

Making my way through Hornsey, I eventually lost sight of the palace. Luckily, the downtown was still attractive in its own right. Promising little shops were plentiful. Restaurants and their cuisine filled the air. The sole customers of one shared a laugh between bites of food. I passed the cafe that had sparked this adventure and made a mental note to return because it did look so promising.

Finally, I made my way to a park promisingly near that place on the hill. Before me lay swaths of grassy fields with dogs and their owners frolicking about. On my right was Hornsey and perhaps the towns beyond it, and on my left, up several hundred feet and partially obscured by trees, there it was, that palace. I drew nearer without even knowing it, up the hill without care, just to take it all in. It was immaculate—immensely detailed in architecture, stained glass reflecting every color, and an imposing presence looming over the landscape.

But nobody present paid any attention to it; they were all gazing behind me. I turned around and sat down in stunned silence. There it was, London, the city I had tried to catch a break from. All of it. It truly was breathtaking, inexpressible with a photograph. Little patches of skyscrapers rose between the urban sprawl, isolated from the other patches. Lights danced as millions of people and thousands upon thousands of cars, trains, and airplanes busied themselves in the fading light.

I could have stayed on top of that hill all night, waiting for every light to dim. But, home comforts and my aching feet beckoned me to return. So, with a final farewell, I forced myself up off the ground, ensuring to take in the waning moments, and started the long journey back. Back to the noise. Back to the pompousness. And back to my comfortable bed in the place I now call home.

 

Logan Hanson

Major: Physics

Hometown: Wittenberg, Wisconsin

One goal of mine is to develop my ability to communicate and work with others from all walks of life. I hope that learning about our history and experiencing a variety of diverse cultures will broaden my views and increase my understanding. Communication is exceedingly more important in our age and integral to success in the STEM field.

What do you most look forward to learning about in London?

What intrigues me most about London is its vast history. London and the UK have been at the forefront of history for centuries, but especially in terms of coffee; London and coffee go back further than even London and tea. As someone heavily invested in the beverage, I look forward to exploring London’s fascinating relationship with coffee and its history.