So, I am writing this entry two days into my stay in London, but I think that I should start from the beginning. Departure day was a tough one, and not by one stretch jolly. Tyler, Emily, and the assorted family which had assembled were watery eyed at the gate, and I had convinced myself that staying home watching re-runs of poorly written sitcoms would be an excellent alternative to an all expenses paid six month jaunt in Europe. But somehow, or another, I managed to walk to the security gate, although I didn’t get too far. When I had checked to see if my bag held all of my things, I had apparently forgotten to remove my Swiss Army knife from my day pack, which was to be my carry on. Needless to say, I was sheepishly pulled to the side for an additional search. Once they had confirmed that I was not a cleverly disguised terrorist, I was allowed to board the plane. Despite the poor choice in movies, where one of the cinematic abortions happened to include Nicholas Cage and Cher, the flight was pleasant. The woman who sat beside me, named Ros happened to be very interesting. She was an Egyptologist from Bath who had visited Edmonton for a week to see her friend, and to visit the opera. Her daughters are both involved in the entertainment industry, one being a PA to some famous person, and the other is an agent of sorts. Within a half an hour of meeting me, she offered to put me up and keep me “fed and watered” if I decided to come to Bath. I may take her up on that offer when I head back up to the UK in August. Nine hours later, I arrived in Heathrow airport. After being put through a friendly interrogation, where I had to show nearly every document in my possession at customs, I was allowed to collect my bags and go. I took the Heathrow express to Paddington Station, which was an uneventful voyage, other than the fact that I got on the wrong train; before quickly fixing my error. Once I arrived at the train station, safe, sound, and baggage in tow, I flagged down a cab, and proceeded to my hostel. I think that they call everyone “love” here; they’d probably say it to a 6’4 built man named Bubba. That and “cheers” I had a disillusioned man say that to me when I paid today, but then again if I spent my life working in a stationary store, I would be a little bit miserable too. I paid £16 for the trip to the hostel, which is a little more than $30 dollars, so I wish I had known about the tube then. I managed to haul my bag up the slippery steps, and then checked into my room. The room is quite nice; stainless steel bunkbeds, fluffy white cotton comforters, a wash basin, and a flamboyant green wall. It faces out onto the road where I can see into a row of peoples’ flats, and I can assume that they can see me too; so I best keep those blinds pulled. I am by far the youngest person in my room. Yasmin was 28, but she left this morning to go stay with her friend in her flat. I’m pretty sure that Sonya got replaced too. There’s not really much to say about her, except that she is noisy and that she snores. I should pick up some earplugs at the supermarket that Yasmin showed me. It’s only a couple blocks down and across the bridge. There is also an internet café nearby, as well as an ATM, which makes the location quite convenient. The other room mate that I have is named Corrine, who is amazing. She is from Australia and trying to find and a job up here, but she is in the hostel for at least another ten days. She spent an hour or so last night showing me how to use the tube, and told me of some places to go. I hit the pavement at around 8:30 this morning, and was up at 7:30, mostly due to the fact that I had gone to bed at 7:00 last night. So, I took a walk to the train, got my Oyster card, which is like a seven day pass, and then took it to the Piccadilly station. I had to spend the next hour trying to find the London Tourist Office to get my London Pass, but the stupid streets have no rhyme or reason, so I asked a policeman where to go, he seemed very entertained by the fact that I had walked back and forth past him five times within the span of ten minutes. The first place that I hit was the National Gallery, which is right in front of Trafalgar Square, which is the one that is full of pigeons. Every time someone would antagonize a pack of them, I was afraid that I would end up covered in pigeon crap, as they took to the sky. The museum itself is free, but to get an audio guide it will cost you three pounds as a suggested donation. There are also “suggested donations” to enter or repair the building. I was given a map which listed some of the most important paintings, so I took the time to look at those and to listen to their commentary, as well as whatever caught my interest. My favourite paintings/exhibition was the temporary Van Gough/Monet/Picasso exhibit. They had Van Gough’s sunflowers up on display, as well as an unfinished sketch by DaVinci, both were very interesting. The museum took about 2 hours, after I got a bite to eat at the museum, where I forgot that tortillas are really eggs and potatoes over here, and then headed to Number 10 Downing Street, which was actually quite unimpressive. It was just a gated building with a couple of security guards armed with machine guns putzing around it. After that I took a walk past the parliament buildings and Big Ben where I got a few good shots. Westminster Abbey was conveniently across the street, so I put another few quid down for their audio guide. I saw all the Edwards’ and the James’ tombs as well as Queen Elizabeth and Mary Queen of Scots. Their death masks were quite unsettling. I then saw where all of the knights sat, and one of the churchmen gave me a very informative lecture on the room. The coronation chair itself was a little dodgy, and was covered in graffiti. I wasn’t allowed to take many photos in the Abbey or the Gallery. I lit a candle in the Cathedral and then saw the Grave of the Unnamed Solider, before trudging back in the pouring rain to the supermarket to pick up dinner, and then I caught the tube back to the hostel. I’m not sure what I’ll be doing tomorrow; it all depends on what the weather is like. My jeans are still soaked. Corrine and I may go out tomorrow to the pub for dinner, and catch Soho sometime this week.

Cheers!

Alli