Big Ben, Westminster Abbey, the Thames, Buckingham Palace, the Tate Modern, Hyde Park, the West End, Soho, the Tower Bridge and Trafalgar Square. These are just a few of the attractions on any London tourist's must-see list.

I have to admit: When I visited London for an international LGBTQ+ swim meet, all I could think about were the cute guys in tiny, tight swimsuits, perfectly coifed and with tart British accents, standing in front of me.

We had all been gathered for the IGLA swim competition in sweltering Palm Springs last April. I'd been swimming with the local Queer team, the Seattle Orcas, since the late 1990s and loved the camaraderie, especially at the Gay Games, held every four years in various glam destinations, like New York City, Amsterdam, Sydney, Paris, or even my own hometown of Cleveland (which I wouldn't call glam but rolled out the red carpet and beautiful August weather in 2014 to offer a memorable snapshot of Midwestern hospitality).

Several swimmers from the Out to Swim London team had traveled to that desert destination to announce that their team would host the annual IGLA swim meet, where elite and not-so-elite (i.e., like me) LGBTQ+ swimmers, divers, water polo players, and others gather to compete.

I couldn't resist those accents and friendly invitations. So my best friend — also on the swim team — and I boarded a Virgin Atlantic flight on June 21 and headed to merry old England.

I hadn't touched down in the UK since my twenties, when I began a backpacking adventure with a Eurail Pass and visited nine countries in six weeks. That first visit, I arrived in May during a heat wave, with an unwieldy Rick Steves pack and a woolen sweater glued to my back, because I'd expected cooler weather. Not completely out of the closet at that time, I met a girl who developed a crush on me. So my memories of the place were colored by discomfort and a general feeling that London wasn't a Gay-friendly destination.

My, how times change! Over 30 years later, we encountered a London as Queer as a three-dollar bill! We arrived at our hotel in Piccadilly Circus and saw the Regent Street shopping district decked out in Pride banners as far as the eye could see. I guess we've been identified as a demographic with deep pockets, but I'd like to think it was a way of welcoming and celebrating our community.

I've always loved the romance of Paris but will admit that the ease of not having to think in a different language before I spoke gave me a sense of belonging and calm. Not that you can always understand British dialects, which I discovered after watching four seasons of The Crown. I still struggle with comprehension, but at least the language is my own.

My friend and I took a cruise along the Thames, soaked up the historical sites as we pounded the pavement, rested at outdoor cafés, listened to jazz at a former speakeasy housed within a brasserie, and grabbed last-minute tickets to a show — with the provocative title I F*cked You in My Spaceship — at the Soho Theatre-Dean Street, which seemed like a proper introduction to a revival of the famed musical Cabaret we saw later that week.

After a jam-packed weekend in central London, we hopped the Tube and traveled to Stratford in East London, where we took up residence on the edge of Queen Elizabeth Olympic Park, home to the 2012 London Olympics stadium and pool, where we'd compete. We stayed in an award-winning hotel converted from shipping containers called The Snoozebox: inexpensive and snug.

The swim meet feels like a blur. I'd registered for five events: the 50-meter back and breaststroke, 100-meter IM, 200-meter freestyle, and several relays with my teammates. Still overcoming the residue of jet lag and a bout with COVID prior to the trip, I did the best I could and saw my swim mates take home medals for first, second, and third place in their respective heats. Go team!

We returned to the city after the meet ended and marched with Out to Swim London in the July 1 Pride Parade, which began in Kensington and stretched through the heart of London to Piccadilly Circus and beyond. It was a bright, sunny afternoon, and the crowds lining the parade route cheered and whooped for us and the other marchers. We carried our makeshift Seattle Orca Swim Team sign for the majority of the parade route, flirting and fraternizing with other participants from the US, Europe, Australia, and elsewhere. We even learned a choreographed number set to Kylie Minogue's latest hit, "Padam Padam," replete with blue hand fans flapping in unison.

After landing back in Seattle one week ago, it all seems a bit like a mirage. For many, traveling is a luxury; for some, a necessity. The gift is allowing yourself to get lost, loosening the reins of your must-see list, and instead discovering a fluid approach to encountering a new place, new people, new ways of seeing things.

Seattle is so busy in the summertime, as we try to squeeze every moment out of the warm, long, sunny days we are given. But I returned home with a desire to relinquish whatever frenetic pace I had set for summer and instead find more moments to exhale, rest, and dream.

Sometimes slowing down and getting lost leads you to new places. I'm looking forward to seeing what I may have missed in the rush of life and sinking into the depths of it.