It’s been a minute since I last posted, but if you’ll recall, I ended up flying to London without my travel buddy since she had to wait until the next day for a flight out of DFW. I managed to find my gate, survive the nine-hour flight, disembark with my luggage, get through customs and immigration, and find a train to take me to my hotel. Or that was the plan. Read all about it HERE.

Once I checked in–thanks to the photo Trisha had sent me of her hotel reservation confirmation–my next task was to find the room, LG109. I took the elevator to the first floor (their ground floor is G) and tried my card key in 109’s lock. No go.

Fortunately, there was a staff member in those tiny halls, and I asked him. He told me LG meant below ground, and to take the elevator to -1. Negative one? Never saw that before! And why wasn’t it B109 (for basement) or BG (for below ground) or -109? Anyway, I finally found the lock that fit my key, and I was in my hotel room.

They tell you online NOT to sleep after crossing time zones and to get sunlight to help your body adjust and to minimize jet lag. I’d already gotten plenty of sunshine traipsing through Hyde Park, and the bed looked too inviting, so I set my alarm and took a two-hour nap. I thought I would be in much better shape to find a restaurant after a bit of rest.

It wasn’t a lot, but it was enough for me to feel like searching for a pizza place. After Googling “pizza near me,” I discovered there was a one just down the street at the end of the block, so I headed there.

As the building came into view, I saw windows boarded up with ladders and scaffolds around, and a sign that said, “Closed for renovations.” Botheration. And just as I started walking the other way, it started raining. It was London, after all. Those few drops would be the last rain I experienced while there.

Instead of doing another Google search, I walked back to the hotel to get my raincoat, glad I had brought one, but I only used it this one time. The next Google search had me walking three blocks to Queen Street, a bustling area full of restaurants and shops. Jackpot! I found the Bella Italia restaurant Google had shown me and enjoyed a pepperoni pizza and an Aperol Spritz. Wonderful!

After that I wandered a couple of souvenir shops and headed back to the hotel, finding it all on my own. I had actually become a real solo traveler. That said, I still couldn’t wait for Trisha to get there the next day.

I showered and went to bed after checking in with family, and I fell into blissful slumber.

Suddenly my phone alerted me with a text message. It was Trisha saying she had arrived and was headed to the hotel! I dashed off a quick text saying I would be ready when she got there. I had slept until after 2:00!

I tried to fix myself a cup of coffee, but I couldn’t get the kettle to work, so I called downstairs to tell them. The desk clerk said they had coffee ready downstairs (or upstairs, in my case), so I finished dressing and putting makeup on and headed there.

The lobby was deserted, and the clerk had to turn the lights on in the breakfast area to show me where the coffee was. I just figured they had turned the lights off after breakfast, and that all the hotel guests had gone exploring the city. It should have been my first clue.

I finished my coffee and got another, then prepared to meet Trisha outside. The hotel entrance door was locked. I had read that it was locked after a certain hour at night.

It began to dawn on me what I must have done. Quietly so the clerk wouldn’t hear, I whispered to my phone: “Hey, Siri, is it 2:20 AM or PM?”

My faithful phone said in a cheery not so quiet voice: “It’s 2:20 AM, tomorrow.”

THAT explained why the door was locked. I can’t even think of the right word to describe how ridiculously ignorant I felt. I hurried back up, I mean, down, to my room, kicked off my shoes, removed my jewelry, and climbed back into bed, clothes and all. There was no text from Trisha, either.

The only thing I could figure out later when I was fully awake and more rested is that I had dreamed my phone alert with that text, only to wake up thinking it was real. Who knows?

Later Trisha said: “Did you not notice the windows were dark?”

Duh. . .at least I didn’t drool. Or I don’t think I did. . .

Stay tuned for the next installment of American Tourist in London. Does she fall again? Mebbe. . .