I wrote a blog earlier when we got into London which never made it to post because the internets here are so poor on the third floor of the George Hotel on Cartwright Gardens, just minutes away from St. Pancras Station. The room on the third floor was tiny; uneven floor, dipped ceiling, furniture that slid when you touched it. There is no lift to make your way up the steep, narrow, harrowingly uneven stairs. The shower is shared. The loo is as well. The room is also 56 pounds a day which makes it a total win in my book. So much so we decided to stay here another night.
They moved us downstairs to the first floor and even moved our bags for us while we took the double decker tour bus around the cool sights today. The internets have greatly improved (hence the blog tonight). And we get our own shower! (the size of a small closet, but still...)
London is kinda awesome. I kinda want to live here. I kinda want to get a work visa and stay here for four months during the summer instead of the states. Scratch that... I kinda want to stay here forever and not come back. I am glad we decided to come here last. The food is so fatty mcfatty good. I even ate some black pudding today. It tastes like sausage. I kinda thought it was really good.
Last night we spent the night walking around the East End on a Jack the Ripper tour which was really really cool. Today we hit the sights. The day before, we shopped. A lot.
Sorry I'm being a little short right now. I'm a tad bit ill and it's hard to formulate thoughts as coherently as I'm sure you're used to from me. All-in-all, there are no words to explain how much I love it here. The weather is as fickle as it is in Portland: sunny and warm one second, rain and gray the very next. The pubs are quiet, quaint, full of good food and families sharing time together (yes, kids too). The shopping is shamefully good. The scene is very cool. There are so many people from everywhere here. The area we're in has everything I could ever want in life: pubs, grocery stores, convenience stores, a noir-only cinema, three bookstores, and a shopping strip for clothes and stuff. Russel Square station is a whopping 5 minutes away. The city opens up with the London Underground and no corner is too far away.
In 6 days, at this time, I will be in Portland again. That's a little hard to bear. To think: it's already been three months and change of living out of a backpack. I've seen enough of the inside of airplanes and train coaches and buses and metro rail stations to last me a while. I'm ready to go home. There is no doubt about that. But this trip has been one of a lifetime. I will have these stories to share forever and ever.
I'm sure I could have blogged more specifically or been more expressive in my experiences. But the truth is it's very hard to describe what passes for the mundane when you're out here. We begin our drive through the rural parts of the UK tomorrow, on our way to the destination of Glasgow where we fly out to the States. I am assuming that the internets may be few and far between here and there and that I will be spending most of my free time in the car. I promise I will blog again to wrap it all up once I get a chance, even if that means it'll be from the comfort of my own borrowed bed (yes, it's true... we won't have a place to live when we get back. The hunt for a home starts the day after we get in).
This is how the story of travel ends.... not with a bang but with a very tired, slightly ill, spaced out rant on a blog that could've been longer but probably couldn't be better. I hope you have enjoyed reading along. I will have a lot to say when I get home. I have memories of things that have happened to me that cannot ever be forgotten. I hope you'll still be interested to listen.
For now, I'm going to watch "Mock the Week", take some Sudafed, and hope I can think again tomorrow.
Cheers!
-d@n
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