When I was in London, I made time for a very important stop.
Not Buckingham Palace.
Not Westminster Abbey.
Not a fancy afternoon tea.
The Bridget Jones doorstep.
Yes, that doorstep.
The one from Bridget Jones’s Diary.
I was staying in Kensington, so this was not exactly around the corner. It meant getting on the train and making my way over to Southwark for what some people might consider a silly little detour.
But to me, it wasn’t silly.
It was playful. It was fun. It meant something to me. And honestly, those are the exact kinds of travel moments I think we should make more room for.
I had allowed enough time in my itinerary to make the little jaunt over. No rushing. No guilt. No telling myself, “That’s not important enough.” I simply made space for something that made me happy.
Nearby, there were a lot of women standing in line at Borough Market waiting for paella, and there I was, standing in front of this door, trying to take a selfie like it was a major landmark.
Because to me, in that moment, it kind of was.
I was holding up my phone, trying to get the angle right, probably looking like every woman who has ever attempted a solo selfie while pretending it’s effortless.
Then a woman nearby noticed me.
She asked if I wanted her to take the photo.
Of course I said yes.
We started chatting, and she took the camera from me. Then she looked at the door, looked back at me, and said, “And we’re taking a picture of what exactly?”
So I told her.
“This is Bridget Jones’s front doorstep from the movie.”
And once I said it, it made sense. This wasn’t just some random door I had decided to admire on a Tuesday. This was Bridget’s door.
The woman took several pictures of me, which I appreciated because she clearly understood the assignment. She wanted to make sure I got a good one.
Then the best thing happened.
After she took my pictures, she asked if I would take a picture of her in front of the door too.
Now the women standing in line for paella started turning around, wondering what was going on. They had watched this whole little scene unfold — me posing, this woman helping, both of us laughing, the camera going back and forth.
And without even knowing what the door was at first, some of them started taking pictures of themselves in front of it too.
That made me laugh.
One minute I was just trying to get my own little Bridget Jones photo, and the next minute this regular-looking doorway had become a tiny attraction for the women in the paella line.
But that’s travel, isn’t it?
Sometimes curiosity catches on.
Sometimes one person’s silly little stop makes someone else pause and wonder, “Wait, what is that?”
Sometimes the thing that means something to you will not make sense to everyone else right away.
That does not make it less special.
Afterward, I went into the Globe Tavern and sat down with a beer.
I wasn’t rushing off to the next attraction. I wasn’t checking a box and moving on. I just sat there for a little while and let myself enjoy the fact that I had actually made it there.
I thought about my trip. I thought about London. And, of course, I replayed a few Bridget Jones scenes in my head — the ones outside that very door that I knew so well because I had watched the movie so many times.
I knew the dialogue.
I knew the pauses.
I knew the songs playing in the background.
I knew the feeling of those scenes.
And now I was sitting right there, close enough to that doorway, letting a little piece of movie magic mix with my own real-life travel moment.
That is what made it special.
I didn’t go there because it was the biggest attraction in London. I went because it was on my own little list. A mini bucket list moment. A small, happy thing I wanted to do just because I wanted to do it.
And I’m so glad I did.
Because now I have the photo.
Not just a photo of a door.
A photo of me allowing myself the time.
A photo of me not brushing off my own little travel wish.
A photo of me making the detour.
A photo that reminds me that some travel memories are not about grand plans. Sometimes they are about standing in front of a movie doorway, accepting help from a kind stranger, laughing with someone you just met, accidentally creating curiosity in a paella line, and then sitting with a beer while you replay the scenes that made you want to go there in the first place.
That is one of the things I love about travel.
Yes, see the big sights. Take the tours. Eat the famous food. Walk through the museums.
But also leave room for the small personal stops.
The movie location.
The bookshop.
The café you saw once in a photo.
The street from a favorite scene. |
The place that would mean absolutely nothing to someone else but makes you smile.
Those moments count too.
Sometimes the best parts of a trip are not the ones everyone tells you to see.
Sometimes they are the ones you quietly make time for because they belong to you.
And for me, on that day in London, it was a train ride to Southwark, a kind woman taking my picture, a few curious strangers, a line of women waiting for paella, a beer at the Globe Tavern, and the Bridget Jones doorstep.
Worth it.
— Blanche Carroll
Founder, Window Seat Therapist™
© 2026 Window Seat Therapist™ This original story may not be reproduced or republished without permission.
What’s your Bridget Jones doorstep?
The place that might seem silly to someone else but would mean something to you.
Put it on the list.
Make the detour.
Take the picture.
Those little moments count too.
Buy the ice cream. Make the detour. Take the trip.