by Patricia Parker

Created on: October 31, 2010   Last Updated: November 02, 2010

I wasn't much of a traveler in those days. I had been to a few neighboring states a few times but other than myriad trips to the pediatrician, the discount store and my daughter's school, my travel dreams were definitely on hold. Several years after my divorce, I met and married a wonderful man, a connoisseur of foreign travel. He suggested a trip to England, Ireland and Scotland to celebrate our first anniversary.

It was a dream come true. I never had a passport before so even the long wait at the post office, the lengthy application process and the degrading passport photo thrilled me. Since we began planning for our trip in early March and weren't scheduled to leave until early June, I enjoyed three blissful months bragging about our trip, how much I was looking forward to it, all the different experiences I'd have, and how many cultural and historical memories I'd share when we got home. I sensed a certain boredom among our friends sometime in early April.

We had a dear friend who worked at a major downtown Chicago bank. When we told him we were going to England, he suggested getting some English pounds stateside before our departure from O'Hare Airport. He said it would make it easier for us once we got to the airport in London as we wouldn't have to go to a money converter kiosk. It would save time and probably much aggravation. We gave him $500 in U.S. dollars and he brought us back from his bank  the equivalent sum in English pounds. It was a huge wad of bills. Now our trip was a reality. I had cash in hand and I was on my way.

We arrived at the airport in plenty of time to grab a magazine or two, a bite to eat and a beer. I paid for the magazines, the lunches and the beers.

After a long but uneventful overnight trip across the Atlantic Ocean, we landed at Heathrow Airport in London. It was early morning there and neither my husband nor myself had slept much on the plane. Already our biological clocks were a bit confused. We cleared customs, got our luggage and proceeded to the taxi stand. All we wanted at that moment was a few hours of sleep before we hit the London streets. Buckingham Palace, the Tower of London, Big Ben, and Hyde Park all swirled around in my head as the taxi headed out toward our hotel.

We arrived at the hotel about 45 minutes later. It was a small boutique hotel on a quiet residential street. There were no shops or restaurants or pubs nearby. It would be a perfectly wonderful place to rest for a few hours.

The taxi driver

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