OK, I’m sure you get tired of hearing it because I know I get tired of the thoughts that are on repeat in my brain about one thousand and seventy-two times a day, but I have a basically constant “missing” feeling for Hampstead Heath. It’s one of my most favorite spots I’ve ever been, on this whole entire planet. One morning during our study abroad semester my friend Lizzi and I decided to go exploring. It turned into an all day affair. We hiked, and climbed trees. We took about nine million photos. She brought her “death packet” (this project for a class where you learn about grief and coping with death and in the process you’re supposed to plan the arrangements for your own funeral – morbid sounding, I know.) I brought homework, and a book of course. We spread out blankets by the pond and watched the ducks, and loads of people gallivanting. Later when we got lost traipsing through the woods, we waited quietly listening for the sounds of passing cars, and eventually made it back up near the street where we found an ice-cream cart! (Re-reading captions on Facebook I’m reminded that the man at the ice-cream cart sang “God Bless America!” when we ordered.) We explored more and eventually ended the afternoon with hot crepes. It’s honestly one of my favorite days, I can remember. Pictures don’t even do the vast expanse of greenery justice but I’ll share with you a few. Also, I think our album titles are pretty indicative of this location’s magical powers “The Wilderness with Ice Cream,” “Heavenly Hampstead Continued” and “700 Acres of Bliss.” (PS: my favorite leopard print 2 pound sunglasses from Primark that got crushed at a Blink 182 concert make an appearance in this post!)
Almost every single Saturday, without fail, I wake up and wish I could take a little jog in the park and a picnic to this breath-taking spot.
If I had a teleporting machine, it would probably be exhausted from the number of trips I’d take to this place.