London Life

Alright, I've got two to write today, I was writing one last night, but unfortunately I lost it....soooo back to square one.



So far, London is a pretty cool city, I met up with a friend yesterday, Sandy, who I first met last summer in Ecuador. Sandy, besides living in and around London, has spent time all over the world, already having visited every continent except Antarctica.



Sandy and I walked around London yesterday, starting in downton, and making our way over a huge spread that covered the affluent banking district, the much pooerer Indian district, the touristy areas, along the Thames, up to the top of a skyscraper to have a look over the city and watch a storm come directly at us, and finally, to a pub, where we met up with Sandy's friend, Mary, from Ireland. For my beer followers, I've got a new one, and several ciders for you today: John Smith's Extra Cold, a creamy, smooth bitter with a strong pull on each sip. Not normally a cider fan, Sandy and Mary decided to change that about me, and I had my own cider tasting. Magner's Irish Cider has a light, tingling finish, which was quite pleasant. Strongbow, an English cider reminded me more of the cider we are familiar with back home, Woodchuck, which I've never cared much for. Each pull brought a dry bite that makes your mouth recoil. Mary and Sandy insisted I try this one, even though neither of them like it, and, go figure, baby Bry makes three! Finally, I tried Bulmers, another Irish Cider with a sweet, not overpowering and crisp finish.

The touristy stuff was exactly that: touristy. Buckingham Palace was packed to the hilt with a thousand or more tourists standing on any available pavement within 300 yards of the gates. On top of that, most of them had umbrellas out....dangerous for anyone not wearing protective glasses. Westminister Abbey was more of the same, a beautiful building, with way too many people around, and a £15 admission fee ($27 roughly) that this soul didn't feel like shelling out.
Both Big Ben and the Houses of Parliament were incredible, the architecture is just unreal and their size is, at the risk of sounding redundant, big. Be forewarned, dear friends and followers, when I get back, I will have pictures, but probably not good ones, as it is extremely hard to get a good picture without some obstruction (traffic signals, poles, pushy tourists) sneaking into the photo. After the madness around Big Ben, we walked up to and around St. Paul's Cathedral (if you're not familiar with it, look up pictures of it, it's incredible!).

Getting around in London is some kind of easy, with the Tube and busses running every couple of minutes. All it takes is a moment or two to familiarize yourself with the route maps, know your stop, and you're good as gold. The Tube is a blessing for me, as the nearest tube station is only a half block from my hostel, which is on the outskirts of town, in a pretty plain and boring neighborhood. The Tube, I should explain, is London's underground, or subway system. Riding on the doubledecker busses is quite an experience as well, when sitting on the top deck near the front, you get an unprecedented view of the buildings and city. The drawback is that I find myself slamming down where the brake pedal in my truck should be though, as cars, pedestrians and other things disappear in front of the bus and I brace myself for a sickening crunch. We haven't hit anything yet, it just looks like we are about to. The other fun thing to do from the bus is a game I like to call ''Count the Starbucks Shops.'' With three or four stores on nearly every street, I'm here to report that Starbucks is alive and well in London and will probably be getting their own embassy in the city centre soon. This of course will lead to world domination by our friendly Seattle coffee chain, so beware.

Yesterday morning was a laundry day for me, and early in the morning, with clouds, rain, and 55 degree weather, I set out from my hostel in my sleeveless sleeping shirt, ratty old athletic shorts, and a backpack full of clothes with the distinct odor of Travel. If you've ever been camping, or traveled without the aid of a hotel, you'll know what I'm talking about, but if not, let me break it down. Imagine dirty socks, underwear, wet clothes, and wet and dirty socks all compacted in a growing lump over the course of a week or more, odors multiplying and spreading like a virus. It sounds awful doesn't it? The fact of the matter, it's really not, it's the smell of a trip done right, but the problem comes when you are in a hostel room with others also carrying their own strain of Travel. My room for instance, has 16 others in it. If you have 17 people with three pairs of dirty socks apiece, thats 51 pair of dirty, wet socks, or 102 individual dirty wet socks. No offense ladies, but those big bags you pack? They might help you prolong laundry day and save a couple pounds, euros, dollars, yen in the short run, but those big ol' bags harbor extra special versions of Travel, collectors editions if you will. These bags almost always smell worse than all but the dirtiest, earthiest male travellers....I'm sorry to break it to you this way. Laundry day is a refreshing day, a day to smell clean again, because not just you, but your clothes, all of them, are clean. It's truly a day to be treasured, and the added bonus if you're backpacking is no folding! Just roll it all up and stuff it in however it fits the best!

I'll be going into London again today, in just a few short hours, to meet up with two other friends I met in Ecuador last summer, Laura and Emily, and then tomorrow, one last trip before its on to Edinburgh, Scotland (I changed up my itenerary, but I'll write about that on the next one).
Also in my later post, I'll run down a couple new dishes I've tried between yesterday and today.

That's it for now,
Peace, Love, and Bacon Grease,
Bryan, the Lonely (but not in London) Traveller