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July 25th, 2009
I just peed on France, literally. The toilet on my first ever European train goes straight through to the tracks below. This, however, was not my first French experience after departing from the Dover to Calais fairy. First, we didn't have any Euros yet, so we walked to town instead of taking the bus. Second, we got heckled by some Frenchmen, obviously an immediate occurrence in France.Third, we wandered around in attempts to find the train station (on the same street as us). Now, we're on board to Paris, and I couldn't be happier!
I'm happy because these are the sorts of questionable experiences that you are entitled to encounter as a backpacker. In Iceland and London, everything went just a little too perfectly smooth.
In Iceland, our nine hour layover brought us from the airport in Keflavik to an area called the Blue Lagoon. Basically, we swam adjacent to a Geyser. It was glorious! We swam around in silica dense water with temperatures fleeting from hot tub sizzle to lukewarm pool. The water was naturally warm due to Iceland's geothermal activity, but if you braved the surface you had to scramble for shelter in the chilly wind. En route to the Blue Lagoon, we passed through seemingly endless landscape of crazily formatted black rock, presumably volcanic. It was creepy in a beautiful way, like a desolate landscape applied in a Tim Burton film. It was difficult to imagine that anyone could build or farm there, let alone walk. It was like nothing I've seen in my entire 22 years on the planet.
Later that night, we arrived in London and were introduced to the simplest and most glorious mode of transportation that I have ever attempted: the Tube. It was fast; we found ourselves two blocks from our hostel after "tubing" from the airport. It was easy. We took it all over London, and I mean ALL over London, in one day. We even took it to start off our free walking tour during which we were blessed with a splendid guide who took us to a cornucopia of beautiful historical sites; Buckingham Palace, St. James Palace, Parliament, Big Ben (St. Stephen's Clock Tower), Hyde Park, Trafalgar Square, and at least five other awesome places now void from my memory…
We had intended on taking the creepy London tour in the evening, which included the trail of Jack the Ripper, the Tower, and other great guts and gore. We opted out, however, and managed (quite easily with the tube) to create our own tour. First stop: Abbey Road of course. I walked in the footsteps of John, Paul, George, and Ringo! This was of course the accomplishment of one of my life dreams. I also saw firsthand, written in sharpee on the wall of Apple Recording Studios, the tributes of a plethora of dedicated Beatle's fans who made the pilgrimage. Then we went to Notting Hill, where we found Portabella Road, but we were only exposed to about 2/8's of it (alright ¼). It would definitely be something worth seeing in the daytime. Perhaps something besides a pub would be open then…if your interests lie outside of the world of pubs.
Then, of course, we hopped back on the Tube to King's Cross Station. We wanted to find Harry Potter. Well, unfortunately, platform 9 ¾ does not exist, nor platforms 9 or 10. The center section looked like the entrance to the wizard train's platform, however, so we tried to push through the bricks. Sadly, the results were minimal. I'll have to find another way to Hogwarts.
We then took a long walk along the Thames, gawking at London Bridge, The Tower of London (satisfying my obsession with Tudor history, especially as it seemed a little more lethal in the twilight), and Tower Bridge. Tower Bridge viewing was the perfect way to end the night, gazing into its beauty and grandeur with Beatle's music from a royal navy ship turned dance club playing in the background. I could live there and be happy forever, even with the rain parading about five times a day.
My European adventure is already living up to every expectation that I could possibly conjure. The rest is yet to come.
Mind the gap.
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