One night in London

I wanted to make sure I'd make all of my connections into Norway, so I booked my tickets to leave an overnight in London, hopefully giving me a chance to see a few things. My trip was not without its complications. I fell asleep before my plane even took off from China and I awoke hours later in the middle of the meal service. Everyone seemed to be finishing up, so I went right back to sleep, waking just before landing in Moscow. I sleepily went through customs and hunted down a cup of coffee and walked around admiring the beauty of Russian women. My gate was on the opposite end of the airport, but I didn't know that until shortly before my flight boarded. Right as I was entering the gate area, I had one of my strange anxiety moments where something didn't seem right. I mostly fight these checking obsessions, but this time, I really thought my backpack felt too light. So I stripped it off and realized that my laptop was not there. I could have only left at the x-ray machine. Therefore, I had to run all the way back across the airport (couldn't you just get a shuttle service Moscow airport) and found my customs entry point. Thankfully, the woman had set it aside for me. I was so happy, I forgot to say “thank you” for one-second, which the customs lady pointed out. “Thank you!” I yelled and ran all the way back, just making the boarding.

The second flight was nearly as long as the first, but I stayed awake for the duration; I had to conform to Europe time. I landed at noon and easily found the subway system, purchasing an “Oyster Card” a frequent rider program which paid for itself on my ride to the hostel. It was located in the Northeast part of the city. I noticed right away that every building looked the same, just an endless row of town houses as far as I could see. It was oddly charming though.

My hostel didn't take cards, so I hunted down a money exchange for my Norwegian kroner. What I got was just enough to pay for my room that night, hardly enough for food or anything else. And no place cheap enough for my budget took cards. So I stayed on a constant hunt for card only establishments. I was knackered when I arrived, but I ignored this, dropped my bag and caught a subway to the main part of town. I didn't even take a shower; there was no time. I had to see everything that day.

I don't know why I always adopt these mindsets, this never works out for me, but somehow in London it worked. Everything was so expensive, I could only see the sights from the outside. Very few thing are worth thirty dollar admission. My first stop was Buckingham Palace, where I jumped a fence, slipped and fell over. I could hear Elisabeth laughing. There was a lovely park on the way to Westminster Abbey. The cathedral itself was quite incredible; I would have loved to see the inside. The parliament house was also pompous and beautiful, but Big Ben was a letdown; it was so much smaller than I expected. The London Eye just across the river was not a draw since I couldn't afford to ride it, but the view from that side of the river was great. The bridge was packed shoulder to shoulder with sausage and caramel corn vendors; the parliament member must love these snacks. Sadly, they only accepted cash.

I continued walking along the river, admiring all the sight.s. London is a very characterful city. I loved how such old buildings sat with all the new. Like a western version of Kolkata. I walked all the way to the tower bridge, passing Christopher Wren's great St. Paul's cathedral and other popular sights. I got some decent photos and saw most of the things on the postcards that afternoon, so that was nice. It was obvious that I was not just burned out on Asia, but tourism in general.

I headed home around the same time as the city was leaving work. The subway was packed with quiet, tired people, strung out from work. The women wore a mask of makeup and didn't know where to stop with the eyeliner. Most of the people were fat and lifeless; they seemed so dead compared to the Chinese, who can be quite cold and lifeless themselves sometimes.

I had a traditional London dinner of Polish food, the only restaurant in the area that took cards. It was lovely but pricey. This is only a lead-up to the outrageously expensive Norway. There were no more dollar dinners in my future.