I love these landmarks, built from stone and soaked in history, juxtaposed against the modern London skyline like two worlds in a standoff.
“We don’t need to go in there,” I insist as Oliver pulls me into the crowded gift shop. “I’m not buying anything.”
“Too bad,” he says, already grabbing a keychain with an axe and a crown and some phrase about losing your head at the Tower of London. “It’s your first time. You need souvenirs. The cringier the better.” He grins and heads over to the checkout before I can stop him.
“But you don’t—”
“Shut up and take it, Addison,” he says, smiling at me.
I take it, and I might be grinning. A little.
Oliver and I walk across Tower Bridge. He plays the part of tour guide perfectly, taking photos for me and peppering our conversation with historical facts. Half of them are probably made up, but he makes them sound believable.
We pick up the Tube again and head over toward Parliament and Big Ben. The clock face glints gold in the sunlight, and the sight stops me in my tracks.
“Alright,” I say. “This is impressive.”
Oliver smiles, looking smug. “See? Greatest city in the world.”
“That’s still one man’s opinion.”
“Still this man,” he shoots back, grinning.
We stop nearby so I can use the bathroom, and when I come back outside, he’s holding something behind his back.
“What now?”
He pulls out a large canvas tote bag with the London Underground logo and the words “Mind The Gap” printed in big red letters.
I roll my eyes. “Are you serious?”
“I told you,” he says, shrugging. “Full tourist experience. Plus, you need a bag to carry all your souvenirs.”
We’re walking along the river when Oliver suddenly stops and looks ahead. “Fancy a ride?”
I follow his gaze, and my eyes go wide with fear. The London Eye spins slowly in the distance.
“Nope. No. Definitely not,” I say immediately. I look over at him, panicked. “You’re not serious, are you?”
“Perfectly serious.” He turns to me, grinning. “You don’t do heights?”
“What gave that away?”
He turns to me, brow raised. “It’s just a big wheel.”
“Glass pods. Swinging in the sky. Nope.” I cross my arms.
“Swinging?” He laughs. “You barely even feel it move.”
“It’s a death trap.”
“It’s slow, Addison. Even slower than walking.”
“Oh, good. More time to plummet to my death.”
He points toward the slowly rotating pods. “But it’s iconic. It’s part of the experience.”
“I’d like to stay alive,” I shoot back."Can staying alive be part of the experience?"
