This is the view from my hotel room near Kings Cross Station. It’s been a long day or rather, a long half-day.

I arrived in the UK at around 11:30 AM with 2 sore shoulders from carrying my heavy backpack through the Salt Lake Airport and LAX the day before. I’m still pissed at mom for making me walk from Terminal 7 to the International terminal and back. Our flight was out of Terminal 7 but because there was hardly anything good to eat there other than sandwiches and coffee, especially for someone like my mom.

When we arrived at the terminal after a 40-minute walk (through terminal 6, 5, and 4), mom threw a tantrum when I said I need a minute to get online and find a directory of the restaurants available. She stormed off at a speed I couldn’t keep up because of my already sore shoulders.

In my defense, I didn’t ask her to come along. It was why I dropped my backpack with her. I thought I would walk there, get her something, and walk back. I like walking, you see. My knees actually feel better when I’m not stationary but I don’t like walking when I’m carrying a heavy load on my problematic back.

Nope, she insisted she come along.

We ended up buying Starbucks at Terminal 6.

The 10-and-half-hour plane ride was, you know, a 10-and-half-hour plane ride. The Boeing 787 was exactly like any other planes I’ve been on other than a few advanced features like color-changing windows. Thankfully, I was able to sleep – my Fitbit clocked me sleeping for 4 hours – and I was able to eat unlike the past international flights I’ve been on.

Of course, the thing I was looking forward to – getting the stamp on my passport – was a disappointment. There was no stamp. They say I don’t need it carrying US passport. All I had to do was scan my passport into their system and I was good to go.

So then, I led the way to the Underground where we hopped on the Piccadilly Line and rode until we reached Kings Cross Station. Whoever said London is small is lying because for a small city, I don’t think I’ve ever walked so much in my life.

As I’m writing this, it’s 12:45 AM London time on May 15, 5:45 PM at home, still May 14 and I can’t sleep. I managed to sleep for two hours before mom woke me. Now, I’m wide awake, struggling to sleep because of the time difference. Ugh!

At least it’s finally quiet down out there. It’s been scary – loads of police sirens, loud bangs like fireworks or gun fire, and weird crazy people on the streets. I guess it’s just typical city life.