Laurie's light travel travel tips

When I arrived at Heathrow in October, I was two weeks late to the start of my course at King's College. Frazzled, cat-in-tow, I was a picture of what a middle-aged woman who thinks she can pull off acting like a 22-year-old again would look like on too little sleep and too much bluster. Luckily, I had and have enough of the latter to propel me along as I maneuver the challenges of London housing, grad school (including the protracted instructors' strike in the UK), and missing friends and family back home. It would have helped if I had understood the following before I arrived: 1. When people tell you it's impossible to find a cat-friendly flat in London , they mean it. If you are planning to bring your cat (as I was), start searching in advance for a place. Put down a deposit before getting on that plane. God, I wish I'd done that. It's been a nightmare and I'm not done yet. Fingers crossed for something to come up in Ealing this April. 2. Everything you...

I want to tell these two little stories before I forget. About a month ago, when I was coming back to London from the U.S., I had a smart, sociable cabbie (Black Cab). He told me about how the cyclists were making it a living nightmare for drivers in the city, and sure enough, as we maneuvered our way from Waterloo to Ealing, more than a handful of cyclists were in our lane. They were trying to ride as fast as cars, but it forced the cars behind them, i.e. us, to slow down a bit to avoid killing them. "Really annoying," I said. "I'm all for environmentalism, but it's not sensible for people on bikes to think they are in cars." Somehow, the conversation turned to other topics, like film and television, and the driver told me he had picked up Carrie Fisher "when she was in town a few weeks ago." "Shortly before she died? Wow. I know she was here to film Graham Norton." "She told me three cabs had already passed her by when I picked...

I'm finally in London (yahhh!) for my master's course in 18th century studies at King's College, a dream of place I've long wanted to be. Yet, I cannot help but wince a bit when I think of the awkward journey that got me here, one which both amuses and infuriates me if I dwell too hard on it. First, when travelling alone, ladies do appreciate a man's help in lugging our bags, i.e. putting them overhead on the airplane. However, this unfortunately seems to be a dying art with men complaining of things like "back injuries" and "sore hamstring". These are the same men who think nothing of lifting what appears to be a five-pound sandwich into their mouths with their fat fingers and throwing back a pint of beer during a football match. Second, these same men make travel painful because of both their girth and sense of entitlement, the latter of which is the infuriating part (I'm not skinny, so forgive them their extra poundage). I am talking a...