Well, I’m here. I’ve heard about this place my entire life. I’ve read about it, seen the pictures, watched the movies, played the sports, and witnessed the other members of my family traipse across the pond, leaving me behind. Until now. Now, I’m in England, and I’ll be able to experience the country in a way they never did.
For the next few weeks, I’ll be covering the London Olympics, as a journalist, while staying in and traveling around the country. We’ve already hit Brighton and Oxford. Stonehenge is next on our list. The Opening Ceremony is Friday.
Four days ago, when I first set foot on European soil, I was jet-lagged, dazed, and a little cranky. I never sleep well on planes. But after riding a double decker bus through London and recording a protest on London Bridge, I’m getting into the groove. The journalistic groove. I will be learning how to navigate the trains, tube, and other forms of transportation (i.e. my own two feet) until I can weave through London like a local.
This trip is equal parts work and wish fulfillment. I can’t wait for that torch to arrive in London, to the cheers of millions of people from around the globe. To experience a once in a lifetime opportunity in the field I want to work in, this is the stuff that dreams are made of.