Creative Writing about A Holiday in London

Authors Avatar

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                        As I leave my sparse but adequately furnished hotel room to head off to meet my family I feel a buzz of excitement and nervous energy shoots through my body. I press the lift button and hear it shrieking and grinding as it approaches my floor. This does not seem safe but it is still more appealing than a descent down eight flights of stairs. I enter the lift, nervously press the ground floor button and after a moments hesitation it begins to sink sluggishly to the ground floor where I emerge into a warm, vibrant reception area. As I leave through the slowly rotating door I am instantly hit by a wave of noisy traffic and a haze of pollution. I hurry to the bus stop to meet my parents. I inquisitively ask what our plans are for the day and am shown a well-thumbed tourist guide of London proudly displaying the Monument. At the sound of high-pitched squeaking brakes I turn around sharply to see a bright red bus approaching with a cloud of black smoke belching out of its exhaust. The bus seems not to notice and lazily pulls up regardless. Hurriedly the crowd of people that has hastily gathered step onto the bus and search frantically for seats before the bus lurches forward and continues its usual journey towards the underground tube station.

        On arrival at our stop we almost fall out of the bus and spill into the station. We slot our tickets into the machine, push through the barrier and begin our descent down some steps that look as if they are the original ones built in . The walls however are adorned with enticing posters of the latest London shows. I am dragged down the steps by a huge wave of people frantically dashing to get their train. Everyone seems intent on catching the rapidly approaching tube. Will there be no other one today?  The noise of the crowds sounds like a swarm of angry bees rushing around my head. The train comes to a halt and people push and shove showing no concern for their neighbour. People are struggling terribly to get off and in the chaos I fear I may lose sight of my family. Eventually we squeeze on but as the train pulls off I begin to feel sick amongst the fat, sweaty, middle-aged men that I am sandwiched between. I am relieved and delighted when I my mum signals that the next stop is ours. I escape as quickly as the crowds allow and breathe a sigh of relief. I, along with my family, dash up the escalator, through security and out into the open.

Join now!

        As we finally see the natural light of the sun again burning consistently in the pale blue sky, .pounding on each and every head shuffling through the hectic crowds, I think to myself that maybe walking is preferable to the underground. Our station is called The Monument so as I expect we have to travel only about a 100 metres to reach it. It still takes longer than I imagine though because the only way to reach it is to barge through the crowds of people. Everything in London seems to be speeded up. It is like Nottingham city centre ...

This is a preview of the whole essay