hull in my head

…I did recognize him. He got off the plane wearing what he deems his “travel hat” which is this cool Kermit-the-frog-colored thing. We said our hellos and then I went directly into “entertaining guest mode” and laid out several options for how to spend the afternoon. We settled on the one I believed to be most logical and headed off on our way.

Seeing how it was New Years Day and many shops or attractions would be closed, I thought it be a perfect day to go to Bethel. True, it may have been strange that we showed up with our luggage and had to change in the bathroom, but such couldn’t be avoided. While there we met up with two German lads, Ollie and Xun. No, you dolt, Xun is not a traditional German name, he is really Chinese but has been living in Germany for the past 10 years. Anyway, they seemed like pretty cool guys and were visiting London for almost the exact time frame that we were so we exchanged digits and made plans to meet up at the British Museum the next morning. Then Tony and I made our way to the Hostel we were staying at just outside of Hyde Park. We had the option of either taking a quick nap or pretending to be in the New Year’s Day parade until somebody noticed and arrested us. The latter seemed like it would be difficult to sell to Tony so I dismissed the whimsical idea and opted to sleep for a bit.

We awoke a bit groggy, me from the lack of sleep and Tony from the jet lag, and tried to wash this away with a Moroccan dinner with limited results. Then we set off to a local meeting that we were given the address of. Besides going just to go, I had an ulterior motive for going. I only booked the hostel for one night in the event that at the meeting we could hint at, pout our lips a bit, and hope that someone would take pity on us and let us crash on a couch in their house. Besides being a cheaper way to travel I prefer staying with people because it’s so much more fun, and you make random new friends. Wherever I go, people dictate place, and it’s a great way to meet cool people. However, as so frequently seems to happen, my plan didn’t work and we ended staying at the hostel the whole time.

This might have something to do with the fact that we somehow managed to go to a Portuguese meeting and neither Tony nor I speak a word of Portuguese. It may also have something to do with the fact that Tony kept scowling at everyone and would sometimes foam at the mouth…. awkward.

The next day we kept our appointment with the German guys from the day before and walked around the British Museum. It was funny how quickly we all felt comfortable enough with each other to joke around. Evidence of such can be seen in the accompanying pictures. Ollie and Xun had planned to meet some acquaintances for lunch in the nearby China Town and invited us along. All in all there were like 16 of us who went. Tony and I were at a table occupied by 4 lovely girls who’s names sadly I can’t actually remember, a young mother and her really adorable daughter Michelle, and a father and his almost equally cute young girl who’s name I can’t remember either. That one is really bad actually because he talked to me for like half an hour…. AND bought the whole table lunch! Greg… George…?
I now feel guilty in my recollections. They were all nice people. At least I remembered Tony’s name right? …

After lunch a fellow by the name of Andrew (he was sitting at the other table with Xun, Ollie, and others who by now you can expect I don’t remember names to) agreed to take us to Greenwich. Andrew was a great tour guide because although being born he Scotland, he has lived in London almost all his life. He also works on the Underground so he is full of interesting tidbits. On the way to Greenwich he dictated in his almost subtle brogue the history and points of interest in and around the city. At this point we all became very touristy (as if we hadn’t been before) and took lots of cheesy postcard like pictures.

By the time we arrived in Greenwich darkness was beginning to draw in and it was freezing cold. Still we pressed on to get up the hill and go to Edmund Halley (as in Halley’s comment) ol’ workplace, the Royal Observatory. This is famous as being the source of the Prime Meridian (longitude 0° 0′ 0”). It’s actually really cool because they have a very high-powered (insert Dr. Evil inflection) “laser” that cuts through the night sky to show the exact line that cuts the globe in two.

Unfortunately by the time we got there they had closed. We missed getting in side by something like 2 minutes. I thought to dispute that his watch was fast but seeing how he was using the atomic clock I figured I wouldn’t get very far. So instead we just looked at the laser, spent a few minutes jumping from the Eastern half of the world to the Western, and tried to see all that we could from the outside of the building. Things like the time ball on the roof that rises halfway up its pole at 12.55pm daily, throughout the year, and reaches the top at 12.58pm and drops at exactly 1pm. In 1833 this ball provided a way for ships to check their time.

As fascinating as time balls and lasers are, we were quickly more cold than interested, and opted to go get something warm to drink. And after one of the most gourmet cups of hot chocolate ever, and Andrew foolishly answering all my many questions on how to cross the underground tracks without being killed, we parted ways again for Tony and I had date with the theater!

Earlier in the day we had bought cheap tickets for Spamalot, the Monty Python musical.
Upon arrival into the theater we realized just why they were so cheap. You literally could not have worse seats. It was a joke to be sitting that high and at the most awkward of angles. Sadly, the joke was on us.

Feeling cheated, I quickly opted to move to some empty seats closer and with a better view, and after a few minutes’ seats that were closer still. In doing so I became somewhat of a revolutionary, preaching my ideas of the shows worth being incumbent on actually being able to see. This was a foreign idea to our English fellow audience members who are used to having assigned seats even in a movie theater (a notion I still can’t get used to) but they quickly responded and soon we saw the trickle of them making their was down as well. I felt like Che in the smallest sense of what his name has come to represent.

From our new vantage point we were treated to a fantastic show. The singing was spot on, and the jokes and gags, though admittedly recycled, were hilarious. By the time the tickertape finale was upon us we were pumped up with excitement and high spirits. It was a mood that carried with us for the rest of the night as we wandered around Soho for a bit, had a hand pulled pint in a small pub, and made our way home.

The next morning we again planned to meet up with our German counterparts minus one. Ollie wanted to go Covenant Gardens but we just laughed and made fun of him for being ponce (English for girly) while Xun, Tony, and I, set off to do much more manly things like go to art galleries.

It ended up being one of the artiest days of my life. From the Tate, The National Gallery, The National Portrait Gallery, The Tate Modern, the Museum of London, etc. we definitely crossed the sea and got some culture. After a while Tony and I were inspired to wax artistic ourselves and we began to take pictures of that effect. In keeping with being Bohemian we went to a Jazz club that evening.

It wasn’t just some Jazz club though, it was the 606 club, perhaps one of the coolest clubs in the world. Exclusive and moody, the club offers music every night in it’s tiny basement. To get in you must have made reservations in advance (Tony and I getting tickets from friends who canceled at the last minute) and have to actually buzz the door guard who comes out to greet you. It was very very cool. Once inside they are serious about the music. There isn’t supposed to be any talking or getting up done during the songs, only in between. Which was just fine for the night because we had the amazing Liane Carroll and her band filling the room with her wonderfully smoky Nina Simone like voice and quick fingered piano licks. http://www.lianecarroll.co.uk/

She worked that small crowd with her quick wit and charming persona. Not to mention her sheer ability and vocal resonance. It was beautiful. Were I a lesser man, I might have even become teary-eyed at her delicate cover of Tom Wait’s Take it With Me. Afterwards I couldn’t resist purchasing a CD and having it signed. By this time she was feeling a bit silly from the show and her drinks so I also got a kiss on the cheek at no extra cost.

Tony and I bid our hasty farewells to our German travel buddies promising to write them. We also said goodbye to the pretty girl from the day before whose name I still don’t quite remember. I meant to get her email deeming her a great London contact for girl friends of mine, but felt like one of the lads fancied her so I didn’t want him to think I was up to something. Ah, the social politics between guy and girls…. Also present was the mini cooper driving Ed who lives in London (Ollie and Xun were staying with him) who promised to invite me down for jazz again some time. Though I doubt he actually will it was nice of him to say.

As we ran back to try to catch the last Tube line of the night we contemplated our fantastic few days in London. Upon missing the last tram for the evening and having to take the bus instead, contemplated what tomorrow would hold for us in Dublin. The adventure was really only beginning.