Insert epic theme music....here!

Ticket to see Coldplay and Jay Z, 85 British pounds. Plane ticket to London, 65 Euro. Hostel in Earls Court for two nights, 60 Euro. Various planes, trains, buses, taxis, tubes etc., approximately 30 Euro. Waiting for 13 hours in the sun standing most of the time, painful. Standing five rows from the front, in the rain during “Yellow” with giant yellow balloons floating above my head… completely and utterly priceless. Lots of pictures in this post, too many good ones to narrow it down. 

This past weekend I went to London with a few Furman and Wake friends to see Coldplay at Wembley Stadium. In retrospect, it was a ridiculous, insane and completely irrational thing to do but SOOOO worth it. We met some British people while waiting at the stadium and their response to our adventure was, “that’s crazy but #@$Q@*& awesome.” I thought so too :)

We left Friday afternoon around four and our journey looked a little something like this.

4 pm Walk to Cortona bus station.

4:30 Bus ride to Camucia (train station in the next town)

5 pm Train to Florence

7 pm Switch trains to Pisa Central Station

8:30 pm Switch trains to Pisa Airport

Wait a really long time in the airport, check in, jump through countless Ryanair hoops that make little to no sense (cheap but SO inconvenient to fly on) find a sweet game that tells us to get awesome (which has since become code for having any kind of fun), eat some bad ice cream, play bananagrams on the floor, etc.

We found some really great chips in the airport. They were 3-D and they even had emotions.

11:20 pm board the plane bound for London

1:20 am arrive in London and get really excited/have a hard time believing we’re actually there and not a.) in America at our houses, b.) in Cortona where we began, c.) at Furman, where we sort of feel like we should be. Go thorugh Customs where when asked, we tell the man that we are in England for the express purpose to see Jay Z and Coldplay. He informs us that our English is terrible and it is pronounced Jay “Zed.” We laugh at him and walk away.

2:00 am Find the buses outside the airport, drop 10 pounds on a bus ticket to a train station that a nice man tells us is close-ish. Relish in the fact that the people in this country speak our language and we don’t know where we are, but at least we can ask! Get on the bus and ride and ride and ride….

3:30 am Arrive at Victoria station. Ask the bus driver how to get to our hostel, he doesn’t know. Walk up the street squinting to try and read our little tiny map (that’s conveniently in Italian). As the words “Let’s just get a taxi” come out of my mouth, I look up and see one. We get in pay the man whatever he asked us. He could have charged me 100 pounds and I would have paid it at that point.

3:35 am Arrive at our Hostel, check in as quickly as possible, get very frustrated at the false advertising upon realizing that breakfast is NOT included and that we will have to pay if we want a towel, locker, or sheet, and go to sleep. But not for long!

The next morning we woke up at 8 and grabbed some breakfast. This is the view from my lovely hostel window!

Most of the breakfast conversation was recounting the sheer number of buses, trains, planes, etc. that we were involved in the day before. Mostly just not believing it. We found a great café around the corner from our hostel and got a “full English Breakfast” for cheap. This is Caitlin and I thrilled to be on the path to caffeinated travel recovery and about to fully eat our full English breakfast. 

We hopped on the tube and eventually made it to Wembley Stadium (after about 3 changes, which was no big deal compared to the previous day. We pretty much laugh in the face of public transportation these days).  Here we are at the tube!

Wembley is HUUUUUGE. Absolutely enormous. Like this big...

When we got there, lines hadn’t really started forming so we walked around for a while looking in the gift shop at all the soccer stuff and just sort of marveling at how unreal it was to be there. We found Katy and Thomas (who traveled separately) while buying very overpriced souvenir shirts and resigned ourselves to waiting in line for the next….nine… hours.

At four pm the let us loose, literally there was a definite risk of being trampled, and we staked our claim on a lovely plod of metal about 15 feet from the center of the stage. Then we stood there. And stood there. 

And then there were 100,000 people surrounding us. The first opening act was White Lies. Think a watered down version of The Killers/Interpol with a little more emo and angst and a little less edge. Not bad. Next came GIRLS ALOUD!!!!1!1! Which was bubblegum euro pop with nausea inducing male dancers in the back wearing oversized tuxedos. These men had facial expressions that made the standing worth it. So seductive, so intense, so completely cheesy I just laughed the entire time they played. Apparently Girls Aloud is bigger than the Spice Girls. 

This is all the people BEHIND us. 99 problems, but amazing seats/places to stand weren't one...

Jay-Z followed, and was unbelievable. For a moment, John and I agreed, we felt like we were back in Atlanta, where the players play. I don’t even like rap but his show was g-reat. I learned to bounce my arm up and down a lot and nod my head like you wouldn’t believe. Regardless of your musical taste, I highly recommend going to see him if the opportunity ever presents itself. First picture... Jay Z, not zoomed in. Second picture, just me and Jay Z, no big deal. 

Next, obviously and epically, was Coldplay. It started raining quite hard as they came on stage which we just embraced and literally soaked up. We got very wet. 

Sort of a refreshing change from the stench and sweat of standing all day with 100,000 of our closest friends. Coldplay was unbelievable. The set list was ideal and they know how to put on a show, visually as well as audibly. Giant yellow balls floated around on top of the crowd during Yellow, Jay Z came out and sang during Lost, the played a song with a harmonica (?!) and had a medley dance mix version of several songs off of Parachutes. SO so so so good. Favorite concert picture and a photo of the aftermath... which looks like the result of a 100,000 person frat house party.

Post concert, our new London friends (which we felt like we knew well after a day of waiting, standing, singing and being wet together) helped us navigate the tube, figure out our trains, taxis etc. to our respectable planes and then took us out for fish and chips. The place was really weird, like a glorified kebab stand with live music in the back? And the ketchup tasted funny but it was all a necessary part of the quintessential 48 hour London experience. 

The next day we trekked home, and trekked really is the most appropriate word. We missed a train somewhere along the way and got home 3 hours later than originally anticipated, where we learned that buses were no longer running. We found a café, as it was closing and got a taxi up to Cortona where we collapsed. Such an adventure, such a hassle, and SO exhausting, but completely worth it in the end. When in my life will I ever do something so ridiculous and crazy and nonsensical again? After that weekend, maybe next week sometime? :)