We were driving in the car, in the backseat, on the way to catch a flight to London out of JFK airport. We were losing our innocence—just not quite the way that Addison Rae describes. We had hailed this ride-share taxi off one of the numerous apps, hoping to avoid the mess that can be taking a commuter train all the way there. And it was vacation time—we wanted to relax.
But this was a ride from hell. The car was a Tesla and if you’ve never ridden in an electric vehicle, especially a Tesla, be forewarned: it is not for those who quicken to motion sickness. These cars come equipped with a ‘regenerative braking’ feature, also known as ‘single-pedal’ driving. As soon as the driver releases pressure on the gas pedal, the car begins its deceleration. Combine this feature with a bunch of drivers who have spent all their lives driving gas-powered vehicles that require two pedals, and it’s a recipe for disaster. Start, stop. Start, stop.
I’ve never felt more motion sick in my life. I looked over to my left and could see my boyfriend, Rocco, struggling just as much. It didn’t help that the driver seemed oblivious to what he was doing altogether. Flipping through his phone, leaving too much space between our car and the one ahead of us, then quickly accelerating to catch up. We could never seem to get enough cool air circulating no matter how many times we tried to ask for it.
This wasn’t exactly what either of us had in mind for starting out our first vacation together, our first time going to Europe, our first romantic getaway to celebrate a year of being with one another. By time we reached the airport, we both nearly vomited as we finally stepped out of the car and met with the Earth once again. It was a messy start to the trip but I knew in that moment, if we survived this, we can survive anything London might have in store for us.
Once we were on the flight and through a couple of the meal services we seemed to calm down and settle into a proper vacation-mode. The only real advance plan we had for our week stay was seeing Lana del Rey perform at Wembley Stadium. On our first date, back in June 2024, we connected quite easily on our shared adoration of Lana and her music. While I had seen her live a couple times, Rocco had not yet seen the magic in person. What better way to experience it than going to Wembley Stadium to see her perform for the largest audience of her career to date?
While that night was set up to be a spectacular experience together, in a city neither of us had stepped foot in, it was booked for the tail end of the week-long adventure. Instead of building a rigorous schedule of tourist attraction after tourist attraction to fill our time, I had simply bookmarked, in Google Maps, a bunch of different restaurants, pubs, bookstores, record stores, and other unique places throughout the city for us to naturally stumble upon as we set out each day. We didn’t plan much at all. Didn’t need to. Fresh out of fucks forever, as Lana put it—we let the city carry us.
It gave the space needed for the trip to feel carefree and spontaneous. It allowed us to relish in the simple gestures of walking and discovering together, without the hassle of feeling like we had to see everything London had to offer. In fact, there was a lot we did not see on this trip but it gave us ever more reason to return in the future.
I didn’t expect London to feel familiar. But I suppose love has a way of softening even the sharpest new corners. It was truly remarkable how at-home and at ease I felt throughout the trip. Yes, of course there was a deal of comfort in visiting a city in which the native language is the same as mine. That was never going to be the challenge. But there are cultural differences; the way restaurants feel more laid back than in America, the way people pour out into the streets at the pubs after work, the lack of rushing to get somewhere else and instead basking in the moments of the here and now.
One of the best walks we took was through St. James Park. It was vast and incredibly lush, including a lake in the center with tons of ducks and birds that were comfortable walking up on the paths and commingling with all the passerby’s. Around all the bends were plenty of benches and vast fields perfect for sunbathing or enjoying company with your friends. It took us all of about three minutes to quickly lock into the fact that the park was clean. We’re not used to this in NYC. This one park in London kind of ended all NYC parks in one fell swoop.
For two days there was a heatwave that took over the city and it was challenging for us Americans that are used to having air conditioning in nearly all places. You just can’t really escape it in London. That first day of the heat we attempted to visit the British Museum, thinking, “well I’m sure the museum has air conditioning to protect the works of art!” No ma’am. The British Museum simply did not give a fuck. It was packed with what felt like hundreds of school children on tours and we barely lasted an hour in the place before retreating to the comfort of the hotel room.
The advantage of the heatwave, however, was that it occurred almost directly in the middle of the trip and we certainly needed a slight break from all the activities at that point. We had been stomping around much of Soho, and its surrounding neighborhoods, for a few days and it was comforting to relax on the hotel bed in the air conditioned room together for a bit of a reprieve. On the following day, before the heat fully broke, we shopped at bookstores and clothing stores to keep our cool. We found restaurants and pubs with semi-tolerable air flow. We cooled down with cocktails and sweet treats.
In total, we spent most of our days moseying through the streets of London, finding delicious food and drinks wherever we went. We had guinea fowl, pork neck fillet, afternoon tea, English Breakfast, and also dined at Italian and Mexican restaurants that would give a lot of places in New York City a run for their money. Between Aperol spritzes, gin cocktails, espresso martinis, and even some British beers, we found the most delight in simply sitting at those tables being together.
Much like how people often will warn you about the challenges that can arise when moving in with a partner for the first time, I think you often hear warnings about what taking a trip together can truly entail. In fact, with traveling, you could be with your best friend, not a lover, and the anxiety that can be generated can itself be a pressure cooker for disaster. And certainly, that taxi ride to the airport at the start of the trip seemed to be an omen of what could possibly be in store for us.
Thankfully, however, that feeling of nausea and anxiety from the motion sickness never did stick. We left that at JFK airport before we boarded the plane and we never looked back. Our week in London was dreamy, filled with lots of love and little quips with each other; a tenderness we often carry day-to-day in our lives.
Looking back, I think I’m writing this mostly so I won’t forget. So I can remember it all, just the way it felt, and maybe share it with the one who made it matter. London pulsed with warmth—sometimes too much, sometimes just enough. But we learned how to find shade in each other. We crossed oceans, and now we keep crossing smaller distances every day. Into each other. Into the life we’re continuing to build together. And it feels great.
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