I need to write this now before I forget important details.
On Wednesday morning, August 23, L..and I set off at about 8 AM to the Westminster Underground station to take the tube to the St. John's Wood station, a trip of about 20 minutes (about ten minutes to walk to the station and ten minutes on the train).
When we disembarked at St. John's Wood, I was immediately reminded of the Rolling Stones song "Play With Fire," with its heiress who owns a block in St. John's Wood. As it turns out, much of St. John's Wood--or at least Acacia Road--is a rather toney and quiet neighborhood of large (by London standards) houses.
We made our way down leafy, quiet Acacia Road until we reached the intersection of Abbey Road, at which point we turned and continued walking for a few blocks into an area that bore no resemblance whatsoever to the Beatles' Abbey Road album cover. As Google Maps on our phones indicated we were getting further and further away from our destination, we discovered we'd headed in the wrong direction. We turned around and headed north rather than south.
As the map on my phone finally told me I was getting closer and closer, my excitement level built. Once we saw a crowd of people on the east side of Abbey Road, it was clear we were almost there. I truly felt like I was floating.
The crowd turned out to be a group of--I am guessing--Beatles fans from Central or South America: perhaps Argentina or Brazil. At one point, like a flash mob, they all gathered together on the zebra stripes and someone took a photograph of them enthusiastically whooping and waving at the camera. It was quite amusing and touching.
I peered through the gates surrounding the studio, which from the front is a modest-looking structure. Honestly, I've read enough Beatles books and seen enough photos of the studio that I pretty much knew what to expect. Still, seeing the place in reality is quite another experience. The visuals in your head don't always match reality, and that can be jarring. It's like you need to re-orient yourself, do mental re-calibrations. Does that make sense? I felt that not only at Abbey Road, but elsewhere in London. (As much as I have read about London over the years, my image of it was jumbled. Seeing the place "in the flesh" recontextualized the entire city, or maybe more accurately the parts of the city I saw with my own eyes).
So back to Abbey Road. I knew the the wall/gates/signs surrounding the place were full of scribbling and graffiti, but I was a bit unprepared for how much. It's a lot. At least the actual building is pristine. Fans have a need to "prove they were there," and leave a little piece of themselves in the location, even though I doubt anybody reads the graffiti or cares about the scribbles of some Joe Blow from Columbus, Ohio or Brisbane, Australia, or wherever. (I did not leave any graffiti behind, if you're wondering).
It was enough for me to soak in the environment, walk/jog across the zebra stripes a few times, have L. snap a few pictures of my silly self waving at the camera without (I hope) annoying the absolute hell out of any drivers.
There is an Abbey Road Store adjacent to the studio, but it didn't open until 10 AM and it was only about 9:40 when I felt that I'd exhausted all I could get out of the Abbey Road experience. I didn't feel like waiting around for the store to open and, at this point, I don't think I really need any more Beatles "stuff," and my luggage had already essentially reached maximum density.
We headed back towards the train station, going a little out of our way at one point to see Lord's cricket grounds (mainly because my brother is an enormous cricket aficionado and I wanted to snap some pictures for him).
And THAT, my friends, was my Beatles/Abbey Road pilgrimage experience.
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