An English Fairy Tale

I watch the tiny bubbles of my champagne race to the top of the delicate glass, the effervescence hypnotizing. I am perched on a stool in a First Class Lounge at the Seattle airport, surrounded by stiff businessman and wealthy middle aged ladies, only minutes away from boarding. I feel drastically out of place, with my oversize Top Gun sweatshirt and unwashed hair, and am reminded of Cinderella. Surely she must have experienced imposter syndrome at such a fancy ball surrounded by the rich and entitled, yet somehow she managed to pull it off. I catch a lady clad almost entirely in Chanel eyeing the holes in my sweatpants.

Well. At least Cinderella looked the part.

I turn to my Prince— I mean, boyfriend– and watch him sip delicately from his champagne flute, the very definition of proper. Jon has been living in the United States for ten years, and yet he’s still as British as they come. It’s one of the things I love most about him. And here we are… after two years of dating, I’m finally going to England with him for Christmas. It doesn’t feel real. And yet, the ticket in front of me doesn’t lie— in big black letters it reads: London. Heathrow. Business Class. I take a quick gulp of bubbles before grabbing my backpack and blurting out, “be right back!” I make a beeline for the bathroom and change into a comfortable yet classy dress, stuffing my dingy sweatpants deep into the bottom of my bag.

I might be imagining this, but while walking past, I could have sworn the Chanel lady gave me a slight nod in approval.

We board the plane moments before the gate closes, and are escorted swiftly (but graciously) into business class. My jaw drops. I’d only ever flown Economy before, with the exception of being upgraded to First class once when I was a teenager, but that was nothing compared to this.

As soon as I‘m shown to my pod, I am immediately offered champagne. As I sip my second glass of bubbles, I take in my surroundings. It honestly feels like we just stepped into a swanky nightclub. Purple, orange, and pink lights illuminate the cabin, creating a mood that’s both luxurious and tranquil. Bored teenagers spawned from multi-millionaire’s scroll lazily on their phones. Red-lipped stewardesses glide from patron to patron, offering more alcohol and actual pajamas to change into. I’m the only one to change into them, determined to not miss out on a single detail of this experience. And what an experience it was. The next twelve hours are filled with cheese plates, warm towels, and lots and lots of booze. We even got told (politely) to quiet down while chatting with another Englishman at the Bar. Yes, this plane had an actual bar you could sit and drink at. So much for getting any sleep!

We arrived at Heathrow Airport tired, hungover, yet utterly excited. After gathering our luggage, we met Jon’s beautiful sister, Claire, who drove us to her home in Marlow, a small, quaint town located on the River Thames, west of London. Alasdair (Claire’s partner) gave us a warm greeting in the driveway, then introduced us to the most elegant house I had ever seen. Absolutely everything, from the luxurious yet tasteful furniture, to the calming paintings of the sea, was sophisticated. As sunlight streamed through big, beautiful windows, the ornaments on the tree seemed to dance to the classical music playing softly in the background. I felt like I had walked into a Christmas movie.

The next few days flew by in a blur of last-minute Christmas shopping, walks in the country with Jon’s family, and feasting. And when I say feasting, I mean it’s an absolute miracle I didn’t come home twenty pounds heavier. Claire and Alasdair were incredible hosts, preparing delicious meals for their home full of houseguests. A typical day would be crumpets and croissants for breakfast, wandering into a pub for salt and pepper squid with chips for lunch, and decadent, delicious meals such as fish pie and chicken and chorizo stew for dinner. And of course, never-ending wine and chocolate. Christmas dinner was heavenly: Yorkshire pudding, roast potatoes, and slow-cooked brisket, followed by a mouthwatering dessert of tarte tatin.

A few days after Christmas, we took the train to London. After stepping off the underground, I found myself smack dab in the middle of Oxford Circus. London was overwhelming, jam-packed with people of every race and culture, all scrambling to take advantage of the post-Christmas sales. The buildings that lined the cobble streets looked like palaces; townhouses brimming with history and grandeur- unlike anything I’d ever seen in the United Sates. My favorite parts of London were the hidden, historic alleyways- some of which seemed almost haunted. If the crowds got to be too much, all you needed to do was take a quick right, and find yourself in a narrow, secretive passageway, teeming with shadows and untold stories. Nobody can argue that London is an absolutely exquisite city.

For New Year’s Eve, we decided to stay in Marlow for the night. After another superb meal with Claire, Alasdair, and their friends, Jon and I walked to a nearby pub about an hour before midnight. Personally, I was grateful to be spending the evening in Marlow- as much as I love London, there’s nothing quite celebrating in a small town, away from the chaos and tourists. We drank flat beer and gin and tonics, sang “We are the Champions” with the locals, and watched the fireworks from the Marlow Bridge. A perfect way to ring in 2024.

On January 4th, Jon, Claire, and Alasdair had a work meeting in London, so I got the opportunity to have the entire day to myself to be a full-on tourist. I took an early morning stroll through Hyde Park, witnessed the Changing of the Guard at Buckingham Palace, and said ‘ello’ to the dinosaurs at the Natural History Museum. On a whim I decided to visit the Victoria and Albert Museum- and immediately fell in love. One moment you could be marveling at the Samurai armor from Japan, and half a minute walk later, analyzing the Baroncelli portraits from 1510. The amount of history and culture was staggering… and unlike the Natural History Museum, had absolutely no line to get in! I could have wandered there for days.

We stayed in an airbnb in Farringdon that night, had a classic take-away sausage roll from Gregg’s for breakfast, then got dressed up for an unforgettable evening: tea and scones at the five star Langham Hotel- renowned as the birth place for afternoon tea- followed by a play at the Barbican produced by the Royal Shakespeare Company. The play was My Neighbor Totoro, an award-winning staging of one of my favorite childhood films, that was so magical it brought Jon and I to tears. I was living my childhood dream.

The next day we took the train to visit Jon’s parents in Lambourn. It was my first time visiting an actual village, and I was grateful for the peace and tranquility that is ubiquitous with the English countryside. After a few hectic days in the city, it was wonderful to take a long walk on a quiet road, have breakfast at the local greasy spoon, and in general, slow down and take a moment to breathe. Jon’s parents are warm, lovely people, and immediately made me feel at home.

There are so many memories that I will forever cherish from this incredible trip- from sharing a roast with Jon’s lovely friends Tom and Caroline and climbing trees with their adorable children, to taking a two night trip to Paris and getting caught in the snow. My first fish and chips, visiting Platform 9 3/4, and my introduction to a Kissing Gate. It’s funny…before visiting England I was so worried that I wasn’t ‘posh’ enough to fit in. However, the memories that stand out the most, aren’t the fancy, five-star restaurants or extravagant tea and scones. The truly unforgettable moments were falling asleep on the settee on Christmas night, surrounded by family, warmth, and laughter. Riding shotgun in Jon’s father’s car, as he told me about the history of the village architucture. And counting down to midnight on a historic bridge, as we toasted strangers that may as well have been lifelong friends. The camaraderie and love I experienced on my first trip to England, the kindness and warm welcome into their magnificent culture, will forever be what I remember most.

And for that, this Cinderella is bloody grateful.