Thirty years later, London feels different — and so does being an American abroad: Justice B. Hill

LONDON — I’m not certain this was the best time for me to revisit London. It had been 30 years since I’d been here, and it was at Heathrow Airport that I got the first stamp on my freshly minted passport.

I can’t say I recognized this London, because so much of it surprised me. Nothing, however, surprised me more than the feeling I got about being an American abroad.

One conversation I overheard at a bus terminal might put perspective on it.

Two couples were standing near me inside the station. All of us were awaiting the tour guide for our hourlong trip to Canterbury. While we waited, the four people exchanged small talk.

“Where are you from?” one of the men asked the other couple, his English tinged with a Spanish accent. “The United States?”

“Oh, no!” the woman with the other man answered, almost sounding offended at the notion of being from America. “We’re from Canada.”

The man who asked the question smiled. The woman at his side did, too.

“Nobody wants to be from the United States,” he said, his smile broadening.

He had a point.

They said nothing more about the United States. Others on my visit here did. For I eavesdropped on similar conversations. I felt saddened that America, in some people’s eyes, had turned into what it is.

But I pushed my sadness aside as I explored the culinary scene, which has since taken a sharp turn for the better since 1995. Stodgy Brits in the kitchens moved aside and allowed Indian chefs to remake the menus. The metropolis is now awash in Indian and Asian restaurants that can sate your adventuresome tastebuds.

A friend in Los Angeles, an actor and a traveling reprobate like me, recommended “Dishoom,” an Indian restaurant. He swore its food would make my palate dance the disco. My friend was right: A Gloria Gaynor tune played inside my mouth.

Yeah, London’s changed in three decades. Yet it’s remained as crowded as I remembered, but not nearly as crammed as New York City or Paris. I’d guess part of the reason for that is Brits go the two-wheeler route.

But London isn’t cycle-centric Amsterdam; it’s pure London, and it’s kept that stiff upper-lip thing. Brits here are going places, although not at the hectic pace I run into in The States, which means I didn’t have to stress about drivers plowing through redlights.

Still, for all I enjoyed about London, I left disappointed with how I thought Brits viewed me, the American traveler. Not that they made me feel unwelcomed; it wasn’t that sort of feeling. To me, Brits showed an almost icy indifference.

More than a few times, I stopped to ask a stranger for directions or for some sort of information about a museum and was taken aback at people’s terseness. (I think my voice and the Guardians baseball cap I wear gave my Americanness away immediately.)

I experienced none of this during my first visit as an American abroad. I found London and the surrounding towns back then far warmer, far more inviting.

So, what had 30 years wrought?

I think that’s what people who live abroad are trying to figure out about America. Heck, isn’t that what an American who goes abroad nowadays is trying to figure out as well?

Justice B. Hill graduated from Glenville High School. He spent over 25 years in daily journalism as a reporter, a copy editor and a sports editor. He taught journalism at Ohio University for six years before quitting May 15, 2019, to write and globetrot. He’s doing both.