Its a good thing my Dad wanted us to get to the airport 17 hours early, it is absolutely empty. Barely anyone is flying, yet the security is out in force. We were told by the ubiquitous airport voice that the threat level is orange, and we have to cooperate with airport security as best we can. The airport security outnumbered us about 2 to 1 and were apparently in the middle of some fued. They had fashioned sling shots out of rubber inspection gloves and dust clothes and were catapulting detergent-soaked rags at one-another. I was nearly caught in the cross fire as I walked through the metal detector. Lucky for me, I escaped with my life, and my dirty jacket, intact.
I am sad that the only available internet is through T-Moible, but I guess I can post this when I get to London... at least 13 hours from now...
Over the next few days my family and I will be traveling around southern England. We’ll be staying in London for a few days before we start moving west, seeing as many sights as we can along the way. Armed with my GPS, and my Dad’s new Nikon D200, I’ll try to drop as much as I can on here in the evening when we get back to our hotels. Anyway... I think I’ll read one of my embarrassingly nerdy books until the plane gets here... More when I land! ~>
Internet in the hotel room is 15 pounds... *sigh* I guess we’ll try it once?
The flight was alright. British Airways was decent enough to supply us with two meals and complimentary wine! shazam! I got to watch Shrek the third , read my book, and nap a bit before I was startled awake by an ungodly noise. Ofcourse, a baby was crying, no, screaming, on the airplane, and we were only half way through the flight. Normally I am a fan of live and let live, so I shrugged it off and decided the matter would be best left to a pair of priests, one young and one old, who could devise a way to exercise whatever demon had possesed this poor child. So, only somewhat bothered, I tried to concentrate on my book. About an hour later, I realized that the cries from the infant were actually complete sentences, and that it was not an infant at all, but a child between the ages of 4 and 6, who was upset because their Mum (ooh look at me in England!) wouldn’t let them watch the telly. This was suddenly an in-exusable problem for me, a clear issue of bad parenting. I’m not a parent, so I don’t have to figure out how to shut the kid up, thats their job, one that they were clearly failing at. But if you ask me, some form of capital punishment was quickly beginning to sound like the only option. No I didn’t really want to kill the kid, just somehow render his vocal cords useless. Eventually someone flicked on the TV and wouldn’t you know it, the crying stopped! Before tooooo long (6 hours later), we landed into stuffy London Heathrow and joined the hussle and bussle of happy people with funny accents. The Euro trash is pretty funny. Honestly, I can’t get enough.
We took the Heathrow Express (15 pounds each) to the Paddington Station Underground and from there to Islington (4 pounds each). While my family wandered around like headless chickens trying to figure out the Underground system (is it really so different from Bart), I vacantly stood there until a friendly Londoner approached me and offered me his day pass. I can ride free all day now. As for the fam, they will continue to pay the big bucks. Laura is passed out, my Mom is on the way there. And we are currently having communication problems with the difference between “roll-away bed,” “extra-bed” and “cette.” There was also a pretty funny mix up with the whole smoking/non-smoking thing. My Mom has issues with smelly things. So getting a room where someone once smoked a cigarette anywhere in the hotel, there will likely be an issue. I just can’t get over the money thing. 43 p for $1... We should have gone to South Korea, where $1 will get you 400 WON. Anyway, to end this rant, I look forward to having some good food and get rid of this light headed-ness..
I am sad that the only available internet is through T-Moible, but I guess I can post this when I get to London... at least 13 hours from now...
Over the next few days my family and I will be traveling around southern England. We’ll be staying in London for a few days before we start moving west, seeing as many sights as we can along the way. Armed with my GPS, and my Dad’s new Nikon D200, I’ll try to drop as much as I can on here in the evening when we get back to our hotels. Anyway... I think I’ll read one of my embarrassingly nerdy books until the plane gets here... More when I land! ~>
Internet in the hotel room is 15 pounds... *sigh* I guess we’ll try it once?
The flight was alright. British Airways was decent enough to supply us with two meals and complimentary wine! shazam! I got to watch Shrek the third , read my book, and nap a bit before I was startled awake by an ungodly noise. Ofcourse, a baby was crying, no, screaming, on the airplane, and we were only half way through the flight. Normally I am a fan of live and let live, so I shrugged it off and decided the matter would be best left to a pair of priests, one young and one old, who could devise a way to exercise whatever demon had possesed this poor child. So, only somewhat bothered, I tried to concentrate on my book. About an hour later, I realized that the cries from the infant were actually complete sentences, and that it was not an infant at all, but a child between the ages of 4 and 6, who was upset because their Mum (ooh look at me in England!) wouldn’t let them watch the telly. This was suddenly an in-exusable problem for me, a clear issue of bad parenting. I’m not a parent, so I don’t have to figure out how to shut the kid up, thats their job, one that they were clearly failing at. But if you ask me, some form of capital punishment was quickly beginning to sound like the only option. No I didn’t really want to kill the kid, just somehow render his vocal cords useless. Eventually someone flicked on the TV and wouldn’t you know it, the crying stopped! Before tooooo long (6 hours later), we landed into stuffy London Heathrow and joined the hussle and bussle of happy people with funny accents. The Euro trash is pretty funny. Honestly, I can’t get enough.
We took the Heathrow Express (15 pounds each) to the Paddington Station Underground and from there to Islington (4 pounds each). While my family wandered around like headless chickens trying to figure out the Underground system (is it really so different from Bart), I vacantly stood there until a friendly Londoner approached me and offered me his day pass. I can ride free all day now. As for the fam, they will continue to pay the big bucks. Laura is passed out, my Mom is on the way there. And we are currently having communication problems with the difference between “roll-away bed,” “extra-bed” and “cette.” There was also a pretty funny mix up with the whole smoking/non-smoking thing. My Mom has issues with smelly things. So getting a room where someone once smoked a cigarette anywhere in the hotel, there will likely be an issue. I just can’t get over the money thing. 43 p for $1... We should have gone to South Korea, where $1 will get you 400 WON. Anyway, to end this rant, I look forward to having some good food and get rid of this light headed-ness..
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