Stuck on the London Eye

When you are stuck 443 feet up in a glass pod, in a foreign country, it’s hard to keep a positive attitude even when the view before you is breathtaking. After I graduated from high school, my mom and grandma took me on a girls' trip to visit London and Paris as a huge graduation gift. We went to Paris first for three days to see the Eiffel Tower and other landmarks, such as Montmartre and the Louvre. The thing I miss the most about Paris wasn’t the cozy street near the place we stayed that stayed busy until late. It also wasn’t looking at the Eiffel Tower and going to the top. It was the mouthwatering food like crepes and pasta. After Paris, we boarded the Eurostar for London, where we stayed for the next two days. When we arrived, my grandma had booked a ride on the London Eye for later that evening. The London Eye is the world’s largest cantilever observation wheel, standing at 443 feet tall, or 135 meters. You ride up in a pod with glass on all four sides, and the ride usually takes about 30 minutes. From this incredible viewpoint, you can see breathtaking views of famous landmarks like the Houses of Parliament, Big Ben, and the winding River Thames, glimmering in the fading light.

My grandma booked our ride so we could watch the sunset from the pod. We arrived at the London Eye, where a long line of tourists stretched ahead of us, each of us growing more excited as we got closer to the front. Finally, we were ushered into one of the pods, which resembled a giant glass spaceship. Inside, we shuffled past a group of four young women in their mid-twenties and a family of five: a little girl about eight years old, two boys around ten and twelve, and their parents. The pod was large enough to fit 28 people, but there were only 12 of us inside, so we had plenty of space to spread out. As the ride began, we slowly lifted off the ground, watching everything grow small beneath us. The city seemed small below us, slowly becoming similar to a snow globe as we rose higher. We glided upward, looking down at the Houses of Parliament, Big Ben, and Buckingham Palace, all covered in a soft orange glow from the setting sun. The quiet hum of the ride mixed with the faint murmur of conversations, but the awe of the view left everyone speechless. For a moment, all I could hear was the faint music playing and nothing else. But then, without warning, the ride stopped. The pod jerked slightly and the glass pod suddenly seemed very unsafe.. A collective gasp was let out from the group, before silence. I looked around, trying to make sense of what was happening. We weren’t supposed to stop yet. The view was still incredible, but my mind began to race as I realized we were 443 in the air in something so fragile.

The confusion deepened when the speakers overhead played the same repetitive message instead of the music: "We are experiencing temporary difficulties. Please remain calm as we fix the issue." I stared out at the city below, unsure if I should be panicking or not. The stunning painting-like view of London was still there, but it seemed a lot more ominous now. Five minutes passed, then ten. The other riders began to pace and shift around anxiously. The group of young women started to complain, their impatience spreading into the atmosphere. I overheard their conversations about having other plans after the ride, and if this took much longer they wouldn’t make it. Even the family with the children with the children seemed to grow antsy. I pulled out my phone, trying to distract myself from the feeling of being stuck in there. The little girl from the family came up beside me and peered out the window. "At least we're stuck somewhere so pretty," she said, her voice full of innocence and wonder. I put my phone down and looked out the window over her shoulder. The sun had created a beautiful pink and orange glow hugging the buildings. After what felt like forever, the ride gave another slight jerk and started moving again. The rest of the ride went smooth, and I could go back to fully appreciating the moment without fearing for my life. As we slowly descended, my mom and grandma exchanged a glance, and we shared a quiet understanding. The little girl had been right all along. We'd spent so much time focusing on the frustration of being stuck that we had missed the breathtaking sights right in front of us.

When we finally reached the ground, I became more grateful and appreciative of my trip. I wondered how I could've spent so much time complaining when I was surrounded by something so incredible? I promised myself then that I wouldn't take any part of this trip for granted no matter how big or small the moment seemed. I was incredibly grateful and lucky to be here, experiencing the trip of a lifetime with two people I love, celebrating a milestone. From now on, I would focus on looking at things with a "glass half full" perspective.