Bon Voyage: A Winter Abroad: London Trip Heathrow Arrival to Borough Market

Our family yearned for a London/Paris trip as long as I can remember, but there’s something about being outside, sitting in quiet, listening to waves, stargazing, and dreaming that made it happen. We were home, planning, gathered round a roaring fire with crisp winter evening’s faint bite of cold brushing our cheeks. Voices carried our dreams across our back yard, across the water to London Bridge, The Eiffel Tower and beyond as tides moved gently under fading sky to make magic happen. 

Inside, we continued our exploration, determining what landmarks were must-see as we searched with laptops, phones, iPads, all working to make it happen. Bowls of chili steamed on the table, filling the room with an aroma and glimpse of a European Winter Abroad. It was the kind of night where stories and laughter tucked itself into every crevice, and anticipation of our adventure ahead felt supercharged. As embers glowed, savoring it all, we could feel it, from historic London’s grandeur and glow to Parisian romantic boulevards and architecture, our stories and tales would pass down generations of shared chapters in our family’s grand adventure forever. We were off, Bon Voyage!

Itinerary:

Monday, December 30 — Departure from Bush Intercontinental (Houston)

Traveling with my family felt like a holiday ritual that morning: last-minute suitcase checks, a peek into carry-ons, and smiles over whose XL bag was packed so tight they had to sit on it to make it close. OK, I admit it, I was never one to pack light. I had enough sweaters, coats, wraps, leggings and shoes to choke a horse. On arrival to the airport, the scale they sat it on went too heavy, off the deep end. One of the nice ladies told me to get my credit card out and just leave it out the whole trip, letting it wrack up charges faster than a monkey’s uncle. Oh no, I was just getting started. Heaven help me, guilty as charged. 

At Bush Intercontinental, the airport bustle was a backdrop to us, the Flying Wallendas, one person shepherding bags, another double-checking passports, kids juggling stuffed animals and enough devices to open our own Apple store. Not only that, everywhere we looked, travelers packed and piled on winter coats like an ad for an end-of-year Nordstrom’s sale. Later, the crisp announcing voice calling our gate, when I was in the bathroom the fifth time before take-off, I’ll have to admit, was a bit discombobulating. 

United’s 4:25 pm departure meant an afternoon of airport rules: check-in, security lines, countdown to boarding where everyone put on headphones and read or daydreamed, not us. Our family headed straight for the United Lounge. There were snacks, appetizers, Prosecco, did I say Prosecco? We got little plates and refilled them five times, grazing like untethered horses. We were like the Beverly Hillbillies, and I’m not Elly May, as you can tell. Some whispered, others stared. The mood was excited but calm, but not for all of us. We had a fright flyer in our family with enough Benadryl onboard to open a pharmacy. One of us, (me) had been in a plane crash years before, and anxiety still reared its ugly head at times. Flying wasn’t that bad, surely

Well, let’s see, for nine hours, cruising at 35,000 feet, and traveling 4,834 miles (but, who’s counting), some of us sweated like pigs, but I can’t exactly identify who that was. Eventually calm overtook somewhere along the way. Once up and flying, it was a tad bit dicey though. You know how anxiety can make you need the facilities, well that happened, I can’t deny it. By the fourth time my seatmates had to move for me, they must have been planning an intervention and a takedown. I thought I saw someone stick out their tongue as I got up again, but I was never sure.  

The afternoon departure gave us golden-hour views of the runway and a soft sunset as we climbed toward the Atlantic and crossed time zones. We whispered plans for London and as flight attendants dimmed cabin lights, I had high hope for some shut eye, taking me to lullaby land. Nada never happened. I was told that evening departures made it easier to fall asleep on the plane, nope again, that was just horse hockey. What was undeniable was that none of us could contain the buzz and hum on the plane that our long anticipated journey was unfolding as we stepped into another world, our adventure together was upon us, and we would never, ever be the same.

Bush Intercontinental Airport (IAH), Houston, Texas, USA, departing for London LHR, Western Europe.

Itinerary:

Tuesday, December 31 — Arrival in London; Borough Market; New Year’s Eve fireworks

Just before we landed at LHR, outside our plane, the most wondrous sunrise greeted us. We landed at London Heathrow at 7:30 AM, and as Europe’s second busiest airport, it was moving and shaking on this very special New Year’s Eve, our first day in London. With clamoring excitement, we were sleep-deprived and filled with energy that helped carry us through it all. With the whole day ahead, our family made the deliberate choice: Do Not Nap when we got to our bed and breakfast. We were hoping to reset our internal clocks (for real) and soak in London’s historic charm and vibe. Although I hadn’t slept hardly a wink, I felt good, like a kid in a candy store, ready to explore every nook and cranny.

We stepped into frigid London air, while the sky was still awaking with early light. Calling a huge van for our luggage, a great deal of it mine, as we headed to our bed and breakfast at 30 Vestry Street, a cozy and well-located destination that was perfect for our first days in London. It took nearly an hour to reach our B&B, but I was mesmerized by European Plane trees in stark relief with their winter’s dress, leafless and beautiful in their showy living museum backdrop.

On the way there, I snapped London’s exquisite architecture, which amazed and astounded me. Our destination on Vestry Street sat near London’s creative design district and was a convenient home base in Greater London giving us quick Tube and taxi access to central sights. Dropping our bags there early helped us maximize the day, without wasted time or energy. I will say, the B&B was beautiful and bright with expansive windows, but it had no elevator, and the steep and narrow stairs were vicious. I was openly saying “Dear Gussie, what were they thinking,” in my loud and slightly obnoxious Texas twang. As I turtled my way up, a head popped out of one of the other units, and a young girl could be heard asking who “Dear Gussie” was.

Near faceplanting, I wormed my way up to 3^rd floor. One of the kids finally came and fetched my gargantuan suitcase, whistling merrily like it was light; but I assure you, it was almost on United’s illegal no fly status. Once we got to our rooms, it had breathtaking views, a huge living area, an adorable complete kitchen, with full appliances and was perfect for viewing fireworks.

After fighting over which bed was the softest and putting out family fires, we got suitcases unloaded and settled about, then headed out, visiting Borough Market 10 am-3 pm. Its carnival-like atmosphere (I almost felt like I was home), was delightful but packed to the rafters: chock full of people, cheeses, charcuterie, pastries, and stalls where our family tasted and shared. It was just right for a family gathering, and as we were wandering, we lost a couple of our members, (oh well) but finally reconnecting with them in the gloriously holiday packed market.

Borough Market was a blast of energy. It was literally alive with food on an end-of-year day. Traveling together made every food stall feel like a simple pleasure; one we relished. Sampling breads, butter, preserves, cheeses and deserts amongst other goods, we bought handcrafted goods and soaked in the centuries-old charm of London’s most iconic marketplace. It dates back to at least the 12th century and is one of London's oldest food markets, appearing frequently in films. We window shopped at boutiques, tasting pastries, and snapping photos of unbelievable beauty and a history as impressive as one could imagine.

Later in the evening, our family went back to our B&B; we needed provisions for breakfast and snacks. Going across the street to a charming store for essentials, you’d think we were going to be there marooned in London for months instead of days: We snapped up French bread, European Butter, farm ham, local cheeses, dairy, eggs, fresh fruit-raspberries, blueberries, still and bubbly water, coffee, dairy-milk, half and half, fresh squeezed orange juice, hot chocolate makings, tea and coke. We bought hamburger meat and fat little sausages for a sumptuous breakfast. The kitchen had complete service for dishes, pots and pans, condiments, spices, and seasoned salt, and a cooking we did go.

We sometimes loitered in the little store, charmed by the locals and their fresh fruit, meats and dairy. The sheer number of teas amazed all, drawing us in like moths to flame. Surprisingly, we went back there every day to pick up a little of this or that, finding something we couldn’t live without. It was actually one of our favorite things to do every day. It made the cooks in us happy to see what we could make, what we could create with their delightful bounty. The little local market carried a simple black tea, becoming one of my favorite teas of all time; I’m such a cheap date.

I played it back in my mind, where had we been that day, a little map in my head drew it all out: London Heathrow arrival, then to Greater London (30 Vestry Street, N1 7RE); then to Borough Market (Southwark), and back to our B&B on Vestry Street. Now, how cool is that.

Losing steam, we decided to unpack our groceries and forgo New Year’s Eve fireworks there along the Thames. At the center of it, the London Eye is the tallest cantilevered observation wheel in Europe, delivering 12,000 fireworks. It’s just across the river there as Londoners and visitor’s anticipation for New Year’s fireworks grows every year. (londoneye.com).

When midnight struck, we were all fast asleep, when an explosion woke everyone, rousting us from deep slumber as the sky erupted and welcomed 2025 in spectacular fashion! We were delighted and pleased as punch. It seems like there were fireworks for hours, as London hosted more than 30 major New Year’s Eve celebrations.

Awake, I laid back, thinking that I was dreaming, starting the New Year in a foreign destination, one that took hold of my heart and gobbled me up, making me feel alive and passionate about the people, the sights, the wonder of this unspeakably beautiful land. Everywhere I looked made me pinch myself, my first day in London wasn’t just amazing, it was an impressive stunner, a diamond in this crown jewel of a place. It was the cat’s meow, and we hadn’t even been there twenty-four hours. With a nod to God, I turned over, thanking Him for rescuing me, sending me parents, a family, and love all those years ago before I was in the Galveston Orphanage, when I was starving, when I didn’t know up from down, when I almost gave up. Who would have thought it. And oh, the places I would go. This is for you.