It was a chilly early morning ferry ride to Caen from London.
The endless lulling of the gray waves on the English Channel fills me with simultaneous anticipation and ease as I cross them into Caen. This seems an inappropriate sentiment as I think about the anticipation and angst of the men of Operation Overlord as they prepared to steer history and direct the course of the future. Leaving London was an odd feeling; it seemed as though I had been there forever, yet everything still felt so different. London seems to advance with pride while running parallel with history and tradition.
London is always a bustling city, even in the late hours of the evening. Much like New York City, London seems to never sleep.
It feels as though—and I mean this with no suggestion of inferiority—that London is rooted in the 20th century. Its contemporary scene is composed of snippets of the past that American society would view as retro or vintage. Men sweep their shop fronts and couples smoke on the door steps. The Tubes are chock full of frantic and sophisticatedly dressed business men and women reading the newspaper. They bolt from their seats at their stops, avoiding eye contact with those around them as they move in the solitary hustle of their morning commute. I juxtapose these images with those of a bustling New York City subway where one is hard-pressed to find a car of people reading the newspaper—or anything in print, for that matter—as they gaze into the lights of their phone screens. If a cigarette were lit, its smoker would be viewed with revulsion and hear an exaggerated cough in demonstrations of disdain.
A quintessential London shot: a look at Big Ben from the Westminster Station of the Tube.
Americans are very focused and proud of their technological achievements. Yet, our devices separate us in ways that were not present in London. While both societies are progressive and consumer-oriented, London is unique in its appreciation of relationships to the past and each other. The 20th century vibe of London exudes a sense of connection with the tangible rather than the virtual. While the busy Tube riders moved in improvised movements though the labyrinthine corridors and escalators, an earthier and human-centered society projects itself to gawking and disoriented tourists. Londoners are not disconnected from each other.
I hesitate to say that the people of London are simpler, because in no way does the hurry and frenzy of the streets tell that story. However, they value aspects that of society that Americans have left behind. Factors of contemporary life that we consider antedated—reading the newspaper, smoking, a classic style—characterize London. As I exit this synergy of histories on the Brittany Ferry, I wonder what place in history and contemporary society Bayeux holds. London advances while valuing something more introspective. I think our home for the next week in rural France will reflect this as well.