There's the Gherkin and I need to be on the other side of it..
Day three in London.
Look how well I'm keeping up with this; I deserve a prize!
Following last night's shenanigans with the girls, I woke up with a number of thoughts going through my head.
"Why is this bed so cramped? Oh that's right, because there's three people in it. I really hope Izi hasn't died on the floor."
"Oh God. Last night. WAS. SO. AWSOME."
"I need to move to London and do this every week."
"Oh God. I'm meant to be meeting David at my apartment at 8 and I AM ON THE WRONG SIDE OF LONDON."
"OH GOD. DAVID DOESN'T HAVE A PHONE. I HAVE NO MEANS OF CONTACTING HIM. HE'S NEVER BEEN IN LONDON BEFORE, HE'LL BE DISORIENTATED FROM THE FLIGHT, WHAT IF HE GET'S LOST OR IS WAITING FOR ME AND I AM ON THE WRONG SIDE OF LONDON."
There had been a plan. A good, simple plan where David takes the tube from the airport to my apartment. Turns out this worked out quite miserably. Mostly because someone forgot to write down the address of my apartment or mark it out on any sort of map. Someone also decided to buy a sim card from a vending machine, which turned out to be useless since it had no credit on it. So I guess that left someone in a foreign country with no means of communication with anyone. Real brilliant Da-someone. Since David and I are engineers, we came up with a really awesome Plan B, where David called me using a crappy payphone and I yelled MEET YOU AT BOROUGH STATION and hoped he heard me over all the static. I got to Borough Station (which, by the way, props to me for actually making it to the other side of London with only half my head on) where I hoped that a) he hadn't arrived early and wasn't currently wondering around, b) he hadn't gotten lost on the tube, and c) he hadn't been mugged and wasn't currently lying helpless beside a road somewhere. Needless to say, due to our amazing backup plan, I found David (eventually)!
I took David back to my apartment and tried to cook him breakfast, but that plan failed due to the simple fact that I can't cook. Instead, in his jet-lagged haze, David cooked me breakfast before proceeding to clean my apartment, which is something he will hang over my head for the rest of my life, while I will maintain that I never insisted he do any cleaning.
Then David stole my iPhone because it was our only map and David is a man and likes being in control of the directions. In the meantime, I admired London's pretty brick buildings and cobblestone streets.
We found Platform 9 and 3/4 at Kings Cross station, but..my heart, my tears.
Kings Cross station is under renovations so they've moved Platform 9 and 3/4 out of the station. The sign now hangs next a wall, along with a poster of a brick wall. It was honestly the most depressing thing I have ever seen in my entire life. J.K Rowling would be outraged. I was only pacified when we found Diagon Alley.
After browsing through Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes (totally glimpsed George coming out of the backroom), we stumbled across Convent Garden Markets. I ate my way through everything. First there was a buffulo mozzarella and parma ham toasted sandwich, which I couldn't resist because they were carving up that ham in front of me. I'd also like to point out the gentleman in the dapper suit behind me, because half the men in London dress in well-tailored suits and I miss seeing this. I also miss seeing people skipping down the subway because they're proud of the fact that it's 5pm and they're drunk. Life in London is glorious.
Then there was icecream from Icecreamists. All their staff wore berets and their icecream had names like Glastonberry, Expresso Yourself, Vanilla Monologues and Sex, Drugs and Choc' & Roll. Naturally, I was sucked in.
There was also Spanish paella, but I was too busy stuffing that into my face to get any photos. Sadly there wasn't any cake. Not because I didn't see any, but because I was too full. Regret.
Before we both died from sleep-deprivation, we rambled through multiple bookstores full of tiny winding staircases and nineteen and early twentieth century books. It was heaven. Regret at not buying something, but honestly, the only thing I really wanted was the first edition copies of the Lord of the Rings trilogy that I spied behind a glass case. Unfortuantely I couldn't afford the ten thousand dollar asking price.
To cap off the day, David's sister invited us for dinner at her house. This turned out to be a massive eye-opener, not just because I met her roommate who was high and showed me his air rifle, but also because it's always nice to see how people actually live. Obviously not everyone lives in tiny, narrow houses, but I'd have zero qualms with living in anything similar. Hint hint.
Look how well I'm keeping up with this; I deserve a prize!
Following last night's shenanigans with the girls, I woke up with a number of thoughts going through my head.
"Why is this bed so cramped? Oh that's right, because there's three people in it. I really hope Izi hasn't died on the floor."
"Oh God. Last night. WAS. SO. AWSOME."
"I need to move to London and do this every week."
"Oh God. I'm meant to be meeting David at my apartment at 8 and I AM ON THE WRONG SIDE OF LONDON."
"OH GOD. DAVID DOESN'T HAVE A PHONE. I HAVE NO MEANS OF CONTACTING HIM. HE'S NEVER BEEN IN LONDON BEFORE, HE'LL BE DISORIENTATED FROM THE FLIGHT, WHAT IF HE GET'S LOST OR IS WAITING FOR ME AND I AM ON THE WRONG SIDE OF LONDON."
There had been a plan. A good, simple plan where David takes the tube from the airport to my apartment. Turns out this worked out quite miserably. Mostly because someone forgot to write down the address of my apartment or mark it out on any sort of map. Someone also decided to buy a sim card from a vending machine, which turned out to be useless since it had no credit on it. So I guess that left someone in a foreign country with no means of communication with anyone. Real brilliant Da-someone. Since David and I are engineers, we came up with a really awesome Plan B, where David called me using a crappy payphone and I yelled MEET YOU AT BOROUGH STATION and hoped he heard me over all the static. I got to Borough Station (which, by the way, props to me for actually making it to the other side of London with only half my head on) where I hoped that a) he hadn't arrived early and wasn't currently wondering around, b) he hadn't gotten lost on the tube, and c) he hadn't been mugged and wasn't currently lying helpless beside a road somewhere. Needless to say, due to our amazing backup plan, I found David (eventually)!
I took David back to my apartment and tried to cook him breakfast, but that plan failed due to the simple fact that I can't cook. Instead, in his jet-lagged haze, David cooked me breakfast before proceeding to clean my apartment, which is something he will hang over my head for the rest of my life, while I will maintain that I never insisted he do any cleaning.
Then David stole my iPhone because it was our only map and David is a man and likes being in control of the directions. In the meantime, I admired London's pretty brick buildings and cobblestone streets.
We found Platform 9 and 3/4 at Kings Cross station, but..my heart, my tears.
Kings Cross station is under renovations so they've moved Platform 9 and 3/4 out of the station. The sign now hangs next a wall, along with a poster of a brick wall. It was honestly the most depressing thing I have ever seen in my entire life. J.K Rowling would be outraged. I was only pacified when we found Diagon Alley.
After browsing through Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes (totally glimpsed George coming out of the backroom), we stumbled across Convent Garden Markets. I ate my way through everything. First there was a buffulo mozzarella and parma ham toasted sandwich, which I couldn't resist because they were carving up that ham in front of me. I'd also like to point out the gentleman in the dapper suit behind me, because half the men in London dress in well-tailored suits and I miss seeing this. I also miss seeing people skipping down the subway because they're proud of the fact that it's 5pm and they're drunk. Life in London is glorious.
Then there was icecream from Icecreamists. All their staff wore berets and their icecream had names like Glastonberry, Expresso Yourself, Vanilla Monologues and Sex, Drugs and Choc' & Roll. Naturally, I was sucked in.
There was also Spanish paella, but I was too busy stuffing that into my face to get any photos. Sadly there wasn't any cake. Not because I didn't see any, but because I was too full. Regret.
Before we both died from sleep-deprivation, we rambled through multiple bookstores full of tiny winding staircases and nineteen and early twentieth century books. It was heaven. Regret at not buying something, but honestly, the only thing I really wanted was the first edition copies of the Lord of the Rings trilogy that I spied behind a glass case. Unfortuantely I couldn't afford the ten thousand dollar asking price.
To cap off the day, David's sister invited us for dinner at her house. This turned out to be a massive eye-opener, not just because I met her roommate who was high and showed me his air rifle, but also because it's always nice to see how people actually live. Obviously not everyone lives in tiny, narrow houses, but I'd have zero qualms with living in anything similar. Hint hint.