Visiting Homeland Glories Abroad
18
__________ _
Special and I exchange enthusiastic glances as we step through the doors of the British Museum. He laces his fingers through mine as we make our way through the corridors, immediately greeted by a sense of awe. Ancient sculptures, intricate artifacts, and historical relics are displayed with much care and reverence.
We pause before the Rosetta Stone, marveling at the significance it held in deciphering hieroglyphics. It’s mind-blowing that I’m standing in the presence of an object that played a pivotal role in unlocking the mysteries of the past.
Navigating through the halls, we encounter artifacts from ancient Greece, Egypt, Korea, Mesopotamia, and an exhibit that is close to home—the collection of African art and artifacts. Despite the captivating insights into different eras, it’s disheartening to find our heritage confined behind cold glass walls in a foreign land where we fought tooth and nail to study, visit, and live in. A place most Africans will never have the opportunity visit. Engaged in animated conversations, Special and I share our thoughts and reflections as we explore the diverse exhibits.
Hand in hand, we come across the Egyptian mummies, their serene expressions preserved for centuries. Glances of fascination and reverence pass between us as we take in the ancient echoes of life.
With over 80,000 objects on display, it would take us more than a day’s visit to go through the museum, so we decide to culminate our tour in the museum’s stunning Great Court. The space is filled with natural light, surrounded by towering walls adorned with intricate designs. Finding a quiet corner, we sit and admire our surroundings.
“I’m grateful we could experience this together,” Special says, his voice a soft murmur amid the hum of voices around us, his thumb gently rubbing my palm.
I smile, my heart full. “Me too. Thanks for waiting for me.”
After resting our feet and scrolling through our phones to relive the pictures we took, we rise, ready to step back out into the bustling streets of London. Along with the artifacts we’ve encountered, I carry with me the memories we’ve shared—memories that would keep me smiling on lonely days.
Stepping back out into the bustling streets of London, the city’s energy envelops us—people chattering, cars honking, and the vibrant atmosphere of a city that never sleeps. I take a deep breath, soaking in the pulsating rhythm around me.
Just as I’m about to suggest our next move, Special’s voice breaks the silence. “Hungry? Do you want to grab a bite before we head home?”
Oh, I thought you’d never ask!
At the mention of food, my stomach decides to join the conversation with a subtle growl. Thankfully it is masked by the city’s ambient noise. I glance up at him, offering a playful smile. “Actually, now that you mention it, I could use a little something to eat.”
He chuckles, his eyes sparkling with amusement. Did he catch that subtle growl? “Great! How about we find a nice café nearby? Somewhere we can relax and enjoy a good meal? ”
I nod in agreement, grateful it’s not a takeaway, because I’m fa-mi-ssssh-ed. All that walking around for almost four hours is not for the weak. “That sounds perfect. Lead the way, Mr. Tour Guide.”
“It’s no longer Mr. British Museum?”
“Nope. It’s now, Mr. Tour Guide.”
He grins, taking on the role with a mock seriousness. “Right this way, then.”
We walk side by side, and I find myself reveling in the simple joy of being in his company, taking in the scenery, and having him point out places I’d have never taken note of.
Intrigued, I ask, “Maybe we do Buckingham Palace next?”
“Funny, it’s about fifteen minutes’ drive from here. And if you’re down for it, we could walk it.”
“How many minutes’ walk?”
“Forty minutes, give or take.”
“Not today, abeg.”
“Till your next visit then.”
We soon come across a charming café nestled among picturesque buildings named ‘Café Amicizia.’ The aroma of freshly brewed coffee and delicious pastries wafts through the air, inviting us in.
As we enter, I’m immediately drawn to the soothing ambiance. Soft lighting, comfortable seating, and a display of delectable treats behind the counter creates a welcoming atmosphere.
We take a seat by a window that offers a view of the street. A server brings the menu for us to peruse, and Special looks up from the options, meeting my gaze. “Are you craving something sweet or savory today?”
I lean back in my chair, playfully considering the menu options. “Hmm, how about something savory? Maybe a sandwich or a… quiche?”
He nods in agreement. “I’ll go with the same. Any other thing you like on the menu? Check the doughnut section.”
Any… other… thing…?
I gas p, widening my eyes in pleasant disbelief when I spot “Special’s Surprise” listed under the doughnut section. The description reads, “A delightful assortment of twelve handcrafted mini doughnuts to sweeten your day.”
He catches my expression and grins, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “What do you think?”
Immediately, my mind transports me to that day over a year ago where he said something like… there’s this surprise doughnut I’ve heard about, I think you’ll like it. “Oh, Special…” I exclaim softly.
He glances around the café, then nonchalantly shrugs, flashing me a warm smile. “Ready for a sweet surprise?”
I nod, pressing my lips together. How did I bag such an awesome human being?
We place our orders and wait for our meals, engaging in small talk. Despite the years of being physically apart, it feels like there’s so much left to say, so much left unexplored. The thought of calling G-Ben and sharing our pictures with the family group crosses my mind, but I decide to postpone it, choosing to savor these moments with my man. We dig into our meals, relishing each bite and exchanging easy conversation. The sounds of the café—the clinking of cutlery, the hum of voices—serve as the backdrop to our laughter and discussions. My excitement grows as I anticipate the sweet surprise.
Finally, just as we’re finishing our meals, the server arrives at our table with a cute box of beautifully presented doughnuts. I gasp in delight when I notice from the transparent top of the box, each mini doughnut is adorned with colorful glazes, sprinkles, and artistic designs.
With a hand to my mouth, I gush, “Wow, these look amazing!”
He smiles, clearly pleased with my reaction. “I wanted to surprise you with something sweet.”
“You did. And honestly, I can’t remember the last time I had doughnuts because they make them too sweet here. Anyways, this weekend is my cheat weekend.”
“Good choice.” He chuckles.
Special carries the box of doughnuts as we exit the cozy embrace of Café Amicizia. Crisp air kisses our faces as we begin our journey, the energy of the city surrounding us once again. Our hands find each ot her, with our fingers naturally intertwining.
We head towards the nearest public transport stop—the subway station—and we’re greeted by the signs and sounds of the Underground. The automated announcements echo through the air, guiding us to the platform where we wait for the next tube. Occasionally, I steal glances at Special, reveling in the choices that led me to be with him here and now.