The $10 Cake Slice and $100 Silence
A Novice in England

Story and photos by Erin Nelson

My first trip to England. I had traveled through Europe, Asia, Oceania, North America, South America, and the Middle East. But, I had never been to England. I never even had a British friend, really. So, it was ironic when I fell in love with a Brit while living in the Middle East. Before long, the time came for us to make a trip to his homeland.

When David and I arrived at Heathrow Airport, we did a brief cost-benefit analysis on what means of transport we should use to get into London. Contemplating our heap of luggage, we opted for a 60 Pound (over $100) taxi ride into central London. Unfortunately, David and I had a little tiff as we boarded the taxi and we now refer to that particular journey as the “$100 Silence.”

Nevertheless, I was excited about the very British-looking taxis, which faintly resembled a Chrysler PT Cruiser. I was slightly less excited when once in the taxi, David started putting a tie on. I asked what he was doing, and he replied that his “Club” where we were staying required men to wear a tie. As I glanced down at the jeans I was wearing, David said similarly formal attire is required for women.

Before we had departed, David had to explain the entire concept of a “Club” to me, as I was completely oblivious. David’s club is for graduates of certain elite universities in England. It is in a large, stately old building in central London, and has a restaurant, bar, library, sports facilities, meeting rooms, and hotel-style rooms. Beware: do not call it a “hotel” as I mistakenly did several times.

David said he deliberately did not tell me about the Club’s dress code in advance, thinking that a) I would freak out about how formal the British are compared to Americans (this might have to do with my reaction when he tried to show me “proper” table manners prior to our trip: “I’m an American and this is how we hold a knife and fork!”), and b) I could probably sneak through the lobby and up to the room without anyone saying anything. Delightful.

Needless to say, once we arrived at the Club, I cowered behind him while we checked in at the front desk.

The Club turned out to be my first introduction to culture shock, one of the running themes of my trip.

Once safely in our room, I quickly unloaded some Club-appropriate attire for our first excursion. Unfortunately, our agenda involved a lot of walking around the area and the high-heeled boots I was wearing were not exactly conducive to massive amounts of foot travel.

I was grateful when we stopped for a bite to eat at Prét-a-Manger, one of London’s healthy fast food alternatives. A salad, two soups, two beverages, and I think David’s wallet was about 20 Pounds ($40) lighter.

Looking out at Nelson’s statue on the famous Trafalgar Square, I recalled fifth grade when I had chosen England as my country for a project and glued photos of the square and Piccadilly Circus on a poster board along with the British flag. Finally, here I was seeing it all with my own eyes.

The Prét -a-Manger lunch was the start of another major theme of the trip for me: sticker shock. It was really difficult for me to remember that prices were not in fact in US Dollars, as would have made for perfectly reasonable prices, but they were in British Pounds, which meant that I had to multiply by two.

Breakfast the next morning in the “Club” was less-than-relaxing for me, as I had defiantly worn black jeans and my walking shoes since we had another day of sightseeing by foot ahead of us. I felt eyes on me from all angles. The dining room was deathly quiet as men in suits and women in dress slacks/skirts ate breakfast in silence. The silence was so well-protected that you actually had to write your order down on a piece of paper, someone would come pick it up, and it would be dispatched to you with virtually no words exchanged whatsoever.

After breakfast, David showed me the similarly quiet library. You could have heard a pin drop. Then, he took me into the “Quiet Library.” Even David chuckled at the thought that anywhere could possibly be quieter than the “un-quiet” library.

The next day we took a mid-afternoon snack break at ritzy British retailer Fortnum and Masons. Our light lunch set us back the equivalent of $70 (I forced the bill out of David’s hands to take a peek in the name of research). It was all entirely worthwhile, however, because our lunch involved the absolute best piece of carrot cake I have ever had in my life. Later in the trip, we stopped in at the Fortnum and Masons again, and I ordered a piece of flourless chocolate cake. The cake was so good that I wanted to ask for a private room in which to eat it. Definitely worth the price tag (which I have already blotted out of my memory. I think it was about ₤5, approximately $10).

The next stop on our trip was the old capital of England -- Winchester. We were staying at a B&B, and it is there where I first acquainted myself with traditional English bathrooms. First off, the bathroom had the dreaded separate taps for hot and cold water. I once lived in a house in Virginia dating to the 1870s that had such a sink. I always wonder, what makes anyone think it’s a good thing to have only two choices for water temperature: scalding hot and ice cold?

Then there were the “shower” facilities. Actually, it was simply a bathtub with a shower attachment. I thought there might be an option to actually stand up with the shower attachment in your hand, but this was in fact not the case.

I had a similar experience at our B&B in Bath, but at least Bath has the name to back it up: Bath.

As a result, I was actually happy when we moved on to our “unique” experience staying in student housing at Cambridge University. As an alumnus, David was able to book us dormitory-style rooms in a student house at Cambridge. The rooms were small and basic, but I was very excited about the proper shower (even if it was shared with half-a-dozen or so other people). I luxuriated in it -- at least until I got out of the shower one day only to realize that I had forgotten to bring my towel with me. Unfortunately my room was a staircase and long hallway away….I left a rather long trail of wet footprints, I’m afraid.

My initial discomfort with the Club was replaced with a certain warm affection when we returned there for one final night at the end of our trip. It had an in-room shower. And one tap for hot and cold water.

By the end of our trip, we had spent sufficiently large sums of money on basic necessities (like that divine chocolate cake) that we elected to take a combination taxi+bus+train ride to the airport. I think for our next trip we’ll go somewhere considerably cheaper. Somewhere more familiar to me. Like Japan.