On the Road to London: The Journey Begins

A Road Trip to London: Arrival, Doubt and Purpose

The flight from Brnik went smoothly, and the pilot treated us to a truly beautiful view by flying over the Alps in clear, sunny weather. Judging by the language spoken on board, it felt like roughly half of the passengers were Slovenians.

The entire journey to Stansted Airport was accompanied by a mix of nervousness and uncertainty. Fittingly, I had a folder with me that read “I know why”. Seeing those words triggered an immediate shift — my thoughts cleared, and the purpose returned. I was heading to London with a mission. This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, one that required hard work and plenty of sacrifices. My responsibility was to make the most of it.

The easyJet flight landed at Stansted at around 12:15 pm local time. The airport lies about 40 kilometres from central London. After a minor hiccup — a ticket machine failing to recognise my bank card — I eventually managed to buy a train ticket to Liverpool Street.

As the train rolled through the English countryside, my thoughts drifted toward the rest of the day and the meeting with the person who was supposed to hand over the keys to my accommodation in Shoreditch. The journey seemed to drag on, and it took me a while to fully grasp the logic of the railway system — only to realise I had travelled too far west. I turned back east toward the station closest to Charlotte Road. From there, it was about a kilometre-long walk to the pub called Bricklayers Arms.

That’s where the next “cold shower” followed: there was no sign of the pub at the address mentioned in the email. I eventually found it about 300 metres away with the help of a phone app — but that didn’t solve much. The pub owner clearly wasn’t expecting me and knew nothing about any key handover. The only remaining option seemed to be a visit to the embassy, which once again meant several kilometres on foot.

Just before 5 pm, I finally reached the street with the address I was looking for — unfortunately outside of office hours. I tried calling, but without success. Then, in a moment of uncertainty, the embassy doors opened. I immediately recognised the face of the person I’d been corresponding with by email. At last, everything fell into place. I received the spare keys, said goodbye for the next half day, and continued on to Shoreditch with my thoughts already drifting toward the days ahead in this vibrant and energetic part of London.