A London Travelblog

Since Adam did not go with us yesterday, I think it is necessary to relate the tale of Sarah, me, and Lisa's day.

In the morning, we walked along the Thames. Near there is the Marriot hotel. It's huge and really really super fancy, and it has really nice bathrooms. I know this because my mom always likes to go into the fancy, expensive hotels in each city. I mean, these hotels have like doormen and all that crap, and I always feel very insignificant. But the bathrooms were quite lovely to piss in. So after that we crossed back over the river and went into "the most beautiful park ever". That was a quote from my mom. Actually, it was a really nice park. And then we were hungry, so we went to lunch and then we wanted to get some coffee and tarts (oh, this makes us sound so spoiled). But, we had no cash and we did not know where. Well, never mind. The point is, it should not take two hours to find a stupid tart shop thingy! But it wasn't even finding it. We found it, then we had no cash, so we had to go find cash, and then yeah. It's not that interesting. But also, while we were doing all of that we saw Black Eyed Peas ( I don't know how you spell that) and CKY. Those are both bands, in case you did not know. I did not know. But they were just walking down the street with all these camera men and people following them, so we followed them too. It was nifty. And then we went to the Art Museum. It was so awesome. At least I thought so. I really enjoyed the impressionist work. But this is about the point where we met up with Adam and my dad, so Adam has already written about the rest. Except last night, I felt really sick after drinking one glass of wine. And maybe Europeans just have really strong wine, or maybe I'm just a person who can't hold their liquor. I'm opting for the latter. Alrighty! That's all, but I want to put a picture of something up here. Just a moment.

We're safe! I'm at my aunt's house right now, with my exceedingly odd little cousin standing over me. To prove how weird he is, here's a photo of him being a white rapper with a London hat we gave him:



Anyway, last night we saw the Reduced Shakespeare company. They did all of Shakespeare's plays and sonnets in only 97 minutes, and they spent most of the time on Hamlet and Romeo and Juliet. But yeah, it was tres funny. But everyone there was an American. Even the performers were Americans! Except two Canadians in the upper level, who the Americans (of course) made fun of. Because who really like Canadians?

Alex just answered this puzzling question for me: "Canadians like Canadians". Sorry, Alex, reality check. No one likes Canadians. Not even Canadians.

Oh, but of course I kid. I love Canada. Sarah loves Canada. She pretended she was a Canadian throughout the trip. It's easy. Just add "eh" to the end of every sentence, eh?

Alex suggested that one. He's a sharp little white rapper.

Okay, so this morning we left pretty early and went to Heathrow. And then we got on the plane, and the plane left.

Oh, and yesterday, I went to Westminster Abbey (I don't know what the girls did) and saw a bunch of dead British people.

Okay, so back to today, we got on the plane, and arrived at Dulles. The plane ride was quite turbulent, and my dad and I got sick. Ish. And they gave us really bright socks on the plane. I don't know why, but I plan to wear my bright yellow socks. Alex keeps spell-checking my entry. He's so SMART! (notive the sarcasm Alex? I think he does ...).

Okay ... so my point is, those socks will be really sexy. And I'm gonna go now, because Alex wants to see the Anabukin Chan commercial (it's got badgers with big balls ...) here. So I'm at my aunt's now. Soon I'll post all the photos I took, once I get them developed, and I might have a more detailed post about out last day, since Alex is rushing me since he really wants to see those badger balls. Okay, I'm goin'. We're safe!!

Before I start the recap of today's adventure to Rochester, let me tell a little story. When Lara was young, she read those Madeline L'Engel books -- er, a Wrinkle in Time and such. There was apparently a main character in them called Charles Wallace, which she called not Charles (rhymes with snarls) but Char-less. That's my story. Charles Dickens made me think of that.

So anyway, today we took a train out of Rochester, which is famous because Queen Victoria, when still a princess, stayed in the town a night. I'm serious. On their little tour info, they had the hotel where she stayed. A night. I mean, how many hotel's had the woman been in? But hey. It's also the town where Charless Dickens was from, and there's a nifty castle there.

So the first rather interesting thing we did was, mm, we visited this cathedral. I don't remember the name, but it was probably called "Rochester Cathedral" or something similar. Anyway, it was actually pretty cool. I appreciate church architecture a lot more that I've taken an art history class. The crypts were actually open, so we got to see those, and they were working on a mural. A rather ugly mural, since the colors were more appropriate for the Tellytubbies than a church, but hey.

Then we went to the castle, which was tall. And made of rock. Nothing all that interesting happened. While we were there. There were apparently some cool sieges there. But nothing happened while WE were there. It was, I imagine, called "Rochester Castle".

Okay, so then we ate lunch at an Indian place and went to the Rochester museum. Which was actually pretty cool. It had a bunch of artifacts found from around Rochester and such. While I was looking at some shiny things (I don't remember what they are, except that they were shiny) some Scottish guy came to me and was like, "Aiiiggghha eeeeaygha, aiigha?" So logically I was like, "Huh?" So he said again, "Aiiggghha eeeeygha, aigha?" And I was like, "SOrry, one more time?" And he was like, "Aiiggghha eeeeygha, aigha?" And I was like, "Sorry, I don't uinderstand you." And he was like, "Oh, are you French?" Which was weird because I could understand that. And I had to be all stupid-like and say, "Oh, no, I'm American," which is embarrasing because we speak the SAME FREAKIN' LANGUAGE. And he was like, "I like your accent". Which ends that tale.

He was actually trying to say, "Pretty impressive, no?" They sound alike, huh?

So after that, in the museum, my mom was convinced the room was sawying back in fort in an exhibit about prison ships. It wasn't. I guess she's just going through menopause.

Okay, so after that we went to the Charless Dickens museum. Now, I'll be clear: I rather dislike Romantic literature (or I guess he's more Victorian). It's very wordy and unessesarily descriptive. Not a big Dickens fan. But his museum was like a house of horrors! There were these two mannequins of people locked in a cage in a dark little corridor, and Lara was terrified of going by them. So Sarah was like, "I'll do it you pansy freak!" and started walking towards the two. But then a fake bell started to toll, and she turned around and ran back and me and Lara. THen Lara screamed, and the mannequins started to talk. All jolly good fun. We have a funny picture of me pulling Lara towards the kids. The only way Sarah got by them was running ...

Also, we were opening little doors to see Dickens characters, and both me and Sarah got ink drawings, and Lara (of course) got a decapitated head. Ah, fate is kind ...

We went back to London after that, and I went gift shopping. We found out about the Spanish bombings, which is just horrible. Especialyl since now CNN is saying Al-Qaeda might have been involved.

Anyway, we just had dinner at a Turkish place. We've only had one traditional British meal here, which is good, 'cause British food ain't good. But my dad is waiting for me (he wanted to check his e-mail) and like I always say, alcohol is a diuretic and I have to pee like a bitch, so adieu!

Okay, in response to Lara's post, yes, we saw some boobage today. She seems to really be digging these British genetalia ...

So today we went to Dockland and Greenwich, famous (respectively) for being having a name related to what it does (Dockland is a land with docks on it! Brilliant naming job) and for being the place where the prime meridian is located. That's right folks, 0 degrees longitude. Where the eastern and western hemispheres meet. It's also home to a, er, smashing maritime museum, and a smashing planetarium.

But yeah, we left around 10 this morning to go to Dockland. Lara woke me up this morning at about 7:30, which really isn't all THAT early, but I like to whine. Ah, mm, English breakfasts are weird. We had baked beans, an egg, a tomato, some potato concoction, and tea. Did you know the average English family drinks two cups of tea a day? I know that now! We learned that on the Cutty Sark, the cargo ship we took a tour of in Greenwich. It was muy exciting. Not really. That's where all the aforementioned boobs were, on the mantle pieces of various ships. There was even an Abraham Lincoln (though he did have his top on). I didn't quite get that one. I mean, these were British ships ... But yeah, the Cutty Sark herself, a supposadly beautiful witch, had a shirt that was just a little too bit small, so one could inspect her rather highly placed mammery glands, as the girls joyfully pointed out. She wasn't very pretty though. Also, she was made of wood.

My story is rather disjointed. But I've just gotten back from a pub. Manchester United is playing, so it was really crowded, but I like Foster's. Er, Foster's Pale Ale. So back to the chronological order. We took the tube out to Docklands and walked around there. THey have a nice commons with a nice garden that we walked around in, and a petting zoo too. There were some goats there with a type of throat testicle. I would think that having one's testes on the throat could be encumbering, but apparently these little guys do it all the time. And yes, of course my mom has to, er, for lack of a better word, fondle them ... Photos forthcoming after the vacation! (if this excites you, you're a freak).

We then walked under the Thames. See, we're kinda like Jesus, except we sink. Er, well, no, Moses makes more sense. But we walked under the Thames to Greenwhich, where we toured the aforementioned Cutty Whatever. I think Cutty is a rather funny name. It'd make a good gangster name. Cutty Two-Fingers, that'd be me. Or maybe five-fingers. Then we went to the observatory, where we saw the prime meridian and old astronomy tools. Of course, this rather excited me, because I'm a big loser, but you all already knew that. We had lunch, and in the bathroom they had Condomi brand condom, subtitled a skin enhancement. Yeah, that's what a condom does, Condomi, enhances skin.

Mm, then we went to the Maritime Museum. At this point, I wasn't really paying attention, because boats don't excite me. THe Queen's Barge was there, but it was tiny. I guess she's a small woman. Speaking of Queens, what's this you're not allowed to touch them thing? How do they make little princes? Or maybe only other royalty are allowed to touch the Queen. I wonder how she goes to the doctor. Or maybe the doctor is like a "Sir Doctor Ignatius Hypatius Lombard Tudorific IX". Because, you know, that is SUCH a British name.

But yeah, after that, we came back, and they all went off to Covent Garden again, leaving me here. So I went to watch the soccer game for a while and have a pint, and then wandered off to here. I've managed not to get hit by a car yet, which is good, since it seems all of Britain has a conspiracy to hit me. And I have no idea what we're doing tomorrow.

But for Sarah's sake, I challenge you to go to here. Bat Boy: The Musical. See, we made a slap bet on whether it existed, and it did, so I slapped that bia up! Of course, my knowledge of obscure musicals probably makes me seem rather gay. Oh well.

I'm off! Until tomorrow.

Oh Lara...how right you are. what do you mean squiggly?

Love ya, Jamie

I realized that I wasn't specific enough when I just called the dancing guy's penis "squiggly". What I should have said is that it was like a winding river bursting from his crotch? I don't know. That's the best I can do with that. Alright, well, that sounds disgusting. I suppose Adam will write up here about what we did today, but we saw a lot of boobies. I'm sorry, that's so perverted because all I've written about are peni a breasts. They were connected to a ship called the (never mind, the computer just let me know I'm running out of time. It was the something Sark. I'll talk to you guys later. I love you.)

Hey ho! Yesterday, we headed into downtown London, taking a first stop at Westminster Abbey. Except it wasn't actually Westminster Abbey, it was Westminster Church. My dad had a map (of the abbey), and I was trying to find the Poet's corner (I have a thing for old, dead, famous people. Yeah, I'm a freak, I know) with the map and was like, "This map is wrong! There is no transept in this church!" I'm also a loser when it comes to church architecture. Oh, who am I kidding. I'm a loser when it comes to pretty much everything. To make a long story short, there was no transept, because it was the wrong place. Which I totally understand, since the place is called Westminster. If they wanna call the Abbey Westminster Abbey and the Church Westminster Church, more power to them. You know, this story was a lot more interesting in my head...

Speaking of naming things, British signs are a lot more polite than American ones. There aren't "All you can eat" buffets here. That's too crude for ye olde polite britons. They have "Eat as much as you like" buffets. Hell, if I were to make one, it'd probably be like, "Stuff your freakin' face, fatty" buffets. I wouldn't get many customers ... Their signs also use better grammar than ours, which makes me happy, because I'm a loser who actually gets upset when people forget to use the subjunctive.

Anyway, we walked by Parliament. That was exciting. And we walked some more, until we got to the British museum. I walked around with the girls a little, until everyone got tired of the museum except me and left. Once again, I'm a loser. But I walked around Ye Olde British Museum, diggin' in the sights, until the alarms started going off. Now, British alarms are even sickingly polite. They sound like the beginning beep of an airport announcement, except they don't stop. They're so sickeningly polite, they make you want to stab someone through the eye with one of those old statue's marble penises (read Lara's post for more penile information). The alarms kept going off for about 45 minutes. I tried to leave the museum, but the security guards were like, "Oh, you can't leave, we've evacuated that part of the building." Why, that's smart. Evacuate some people and lock the rest in. I never did figure out WHY they evacuated the building. Ah well.

The ancient pornography comes in from a book in the bookstore. I believe it was called "Pornography or Art" or something like that, and had a lot of Greco-Roman erotic images. Porn, I should say, because I don't think you can pass off a statue of a satyr having sex with a she goat ... or in one case a he-goat... as art. Hell, you could SEE the penis in the poor animal! And not to mention all the child-molestation scenes ... Ah, weren't Greeks fun?

I'm gonna skip a few hours 'cause we're running out of time. Er, I am. I don't know who the rest of the we are. So anyway, in the evening, we went to the play Stones in His pocket, which was actually a pretty good play, even though there wereonly two actors. Now, there were about 16 characters. But two actors. ANd some really interesting romance scenes, tell you me (both were guys). But they were really good. The cows part comes in because there were cows in the play.

Okay, that's it, I'm running out of time here, so I'll post again tomorrow. I'll tell my parents about the car, and I can't wait to see your gimpy -- er, handicapped -- cat. I'm sure he's lovvvvaly. Adieu!

Hi, this is Lara. I think Adam is better at typing about what's going on, but, I just don't think that he can describe this aspect quite as well as Sarah and I (even though she's not here [she had to pee really badly]). We were at the British Museum today and looking at the Greek exhibit. At least I think it was the Greek exhibit, oh well, Adam would know. Anyway, it was all these pots and urns and all these penises painted on them (those were attached to people) and Sarah and I thought it was really funny. I guess Adam did too, but I suppose it's funnier when you don't have a penis and you can't see it everyday. And there was this one pot and this guy dancing around and his penis was so squiggly. I am laughing right now actually. I wish you all could have been there. Especially you Aunt Jamie, because you would have found it quite hilarious. And Meredith would have imitated his dancing, I just have a feeling. Well, she (you, depending on who's reading) has already danced like that probably minus the penis and nudity. Alright, fifteen more minutes and they close; that means it's almost eleven and I'm really tired, I think . I don't know. So, I'm going to go and try to pry Adam away from his e-mails to Connie (which are super long by the way, not that I read them. Do not worry.). Alrighty, bye now! And Meredith, I haven't started The Da Vinci Code, and I'll try to take lots of fabulous pictures and not just of my weirdo family. They are weird in a nice way.

Southern Kiwis, to be precise. Named after the dumb, deaf, non-flying birds, not the yummy fruit. But more about that later.

Okay, so London is designed to kill Americans. I'm sure of it. Every street I cross, I think, "This is it. This is the end." Hasn't happened yet, though. See, it SHOULD be really easy. It's just the opposite of America, I tell myself every time. Of course, when I do that, I think, "Huh, WHICH was do we go in America? Left, right, huh?" And then I get really confused. So for a while I was just crossing when British people did, but that almost got me hit by a car, so I decided all the residents of London are involved is this conspiracy to trick Americans to cross when cars are coming. Now I just stand at the side of the road and look left, right, left right, left, right, then wait a little and repeat the process. And all the Brits are thinking, "Fucking American idiots." Which is what Sarah thinks too. She's still pretending we're Canadian.

I'm typing on a British keyboard now, which is pretty much the same as an American, except the @ is where the " should be. So if I screw up, that's why.

So yesterday we visited my dad's cousin Hiam and his wife Joan, and my great aunt Leone yesterday. We ate (drank?) high tea. Sarah has just informed me that it's "had" high tea. It was pretty good. We had a bunch of little sandwhiches and desserts, and tea of course. Anyway, we learned that Hiam works at a Persian rug store just near the place where the Beatles took the photo for the cover of Abbey Road. He was complaining how everyday, he sees crazy Japanese tourists standing in a walking pose of the crosswalk in the middle of a busy street. The sad thing is, that sounds like something that Lara, Sarah, and I would do.

Speaking of crazy Japanese tourists, we saw a gaggle of them torturing a poor British guard yesterday. They went up to him in twos and took photos for about five minutes while he just stood there. And Lara, of course, took out the camera and snapped a series of photos while Sarah and I stood there. She also tried to get poor Sarah to be in a photo with a doorman with a funny hat. Sarah said, "No."

After Leone's, we stopped by the pub that the girl Gina who works at our hotel said was really good. And I had my first legal beer! It really excited me. Sarah's looking at me like I'm an idiot (we both came to the Internet cafe because Lara and my mom are getting really excited by a British grocery store).

According to Sarah, they thought the British shopping carts were the coolest things in the world. "They're so quiet!" Because, you know, EVERYTHING in Britain is better, of course.

But yeah, at the pub, we met these two New Zealand girls. Or should I say Kiwis. For a long time, my mom was just talking to them while my dad, loosened up by two pints, was talking a LOT to Sarah and I about marijuana. Not about how bad marijuana is or anything, just, uh, about smoking it and stuff. Pretty weird. But yeah, I got to talk to the Kiwis some too. It was pretty interesting. We talked a lot about politics, and about how Britons and the world viewed Americans. Of course, I had been up for about 40 hours and had had two pints, but I still made some sense.

Basically, I think they realize that not ALL Americans are idiots. And foreigners know a lot about American politics. Probably more than most Americans. They knew all about the deal with Bush and the 9-11 ads, about Senator Kerry and the latest poll numbers. And Sarah says I should stop typing this.

Anyway, I should be going soon. We're going to go to the British museum today, and then a play at night. Er, I hope it's good; my parents just bought tickets for the cheapest play. So yes, I'm going to go then. Bye!

So the plane didn't blow up, and we've all made it quite safely to London. The plane ride was quite interesting. I must say, Virgin Atlantic can throw a damn good, er, flight. If someone can really THROW a flight. But it's the only airline I've been on where the pilot announced at the end of the flight that two of his passengers had managed to join the mile-high club. I mean, I can understand WHY he would want to congratulate them; it must have been rather hard. The bathrooms are REALLY teensy, and since there was so much turbulence it might be hard to, uh, guide certain organs. But still ... it was an experience.

So the hotel is nice, though it's really slow. We got there by taking the tube. And the drinking age is 18! I'm in an internet cafe now, and we have to leave to go to Leone's soon, so I'll have to make this short. But for the past hour and a half, the girls and I have visited Buckingham palace and the surrounding area.

Okay, I'm gonna be going then. I probably won't post again today. I'm EXHAUSTED. I've only slept one hour today. So yeah, we didn't die!