I see London, I see France...: I see London . . .

PHRASE OF THE DAY
J'ai tué une araignée dans mon lit avec un coton-tige: I killed a spider in my bed with a q-tip.

It's been a whirlwind couple of weeks. My goodness.

Exams are over. Which means classes are over. Which means I'm a senior now. Which is frightening.

And I've been traveling around the continent like a fiend. Well, not so much a fiend as maybe a casual city hopper.

But nevertheless, it's about time I recounted some of my experiences with you.

We'll start . . . with London. (minus Harry Potter)

Yes, I went to London. I now say things like "ravishing" and "well nice" and "russet potatoes."

This looks familiar to you.

Day 1

I had an early flight out of Nice, arriving in London at about 11. Exhausted and somewhat disoriented, I managed to make it to my hostel in record time. Now, if you know me at all, which I suspect you do as you've no doubt spent countless hours this year reading every detail of my life from the 66 published posts, eagerly awaiting the next entry like that sad dog whose owner died and never came home and he just sits there, waiting--oh please, stop, you're embarrassing me--well, if you know me at all, then you'll know that I have the GPS tracking ability of a tree stump. And even then, I'm pretty sure tree stumps grow moss on the side facing south, so, in retrospect, that probably wasn't a clear metaphor.

But you'll be happy to know that I found my way in and around the London tube system with only a Level 1 difficulty. But I am not perfect. I think I was constantly just a little bit lost. And I managed.

The great thing about London is that they're prepared for people like me. And so, to remedy the hordes of squinting tourists pirouetting in the streets, they put up these maps all over the city! And the great part is: the map is always facing the way you're facing! It's like they knew I was coming. They knew. And they prepared accordingly. And I thank them wholeheartedly.

They know their world is backwards, yet they do nothing.

After checking into the hostel, I decided to visit my taxidermied neighbors in the Natural History Museum which was literally right next door because this was a fancy hostel in a wonderful neighborhood with good schools I'm sure. Unfortunately when I got there, I realized my camera had died before I got the chance to say goodbye. It was really inconsiderate of him.

So I snapped some shots with my phone. But who really wants to look at those anyway?

Just kidding. Of course you do.

I then returned to the hostel to charge my camera but realized all too soon that it is a mistake to lay down on a bed ever if you don't want to sleep.

Day 2

HARRY POTTER DAY!!

But since I woke up at 3 to the sounds of my bunkmates' drunken arrival and subsequent snorefest, I had quite a bit of time (and roommates) to kill before my 1 o'clock tour. So I went "downtown!"

I remember taking this picture. I thought to myself, "By the beard of Zeus! I got some double decker buses in the shot too! I am an awesome photographer. Really the greatest."

However, I soon realized that it was actually significantly more impressive to take a picture that didn't have a double decker bus in it. They are literally everywhere. And they photobomb like pros.

So I challenge you to a little entry-specific game: Count the Double Deckers. (Answer at the bottom)

See? Everywhere.

I also wandered around for about 30 minutes looking for the Piccadilly Circus. I . . . didn't really know what I was looking for. But I certainly didn't find anything that could arguably be called a "Circus." It confused me greatly.

(Turns out a "circus" is English-speak for a roundabout road thing. Far less exciting. Also an "arcade" isn't what you think, and "Debeers" is 100% non-alcoholic jewelry. Sneaky Brits.)

Dear Prince Harry,
I dubbed myself a Lady this week. Just sayin'.

Also apparently my hostel was located on the only street in all of Great Britain that I can't pronounce. I asked the metro guy if I could get a ticket to take me to "Gloooochesterrrrrr Road," and after a lot of seconds of repetition and eye squints and quizzical mouth twitching he responded with "Ohhh Glustah Road." I said yes even though I was pretty sure that was wrong.

Impossible. There were no pelicans.

Everything in England is just a little bit fancier.

[Unfortunately Day 2 ends here. To honor the Harry Potter experience, I will be giving it a post of its very own. I apologize for any inconvenience this may have caused you.]

Day 3

Unfortunate circumstance of the day: the Central Tube line was closed for maintenance. You know, the line that essentially connects all the other lines. This attempt to ruin my plans did not go unnoticed. But I persevered, taking most of the city-wide journey on foot. Which came back to haunt me by about 8 o'clock, or 12 hours of nonstop walking.

IN THE FIRST CORNER (SE), COMING IN AT A WHOPPING 16 POUNDS FOR ENTRY, WE HAVE THE TOWER OF LONDON!

I'd give you some interesting historical facts that you could immediately forget, but I didn't pay to enter. Thus, I learned nothing. But look how pretty!

I am called the Monument.
Because Londoners are sooo creative.

London Bridge = underwhelming

Zee Globe Theatre!

HP bridge :)

Early [this] day, to the steps of St. Paul . . .

IIIIN THE SECOND CORNER (NE), COMING IN AT A WHOPPING 8 MILLION OBJECTS, THEY SAY HE'S CONTROVERSIAL BUT I SAY HE'S JUST OVERRATED, IT'S THE BRITISH MUSEUM!

I think whoever arranged this jewelry had a sense of humor.

By the time I got to the British Museum, my feet were already tuckering out. So I popped in on the mummies, then stopped for lunch, mostly to give my hands something to do while I sat for several moments. I realized I needed to plan my exploration of the museum carefully. So as to avoid prolonged foot travel. My lady feet bottoms were in no mood to wander aimlessly.

On my map it listed "Things to see if you only have an hour." Perfect.

What I didn't realize was that these 9 objects were located very strategically, ultimately forcing the victim to visit every corner of the museum, sometimes searching for several minutes for a teeny tiny African mask that couldn't possibly be the most important thing in the room. See above, re: "sneaky."

#1 of 9: A gift for all my linguist buddies.

In reality, this was the perfect way for me to tackle the museum. Not only did I get massive stairmaster exercise, but I was able to treat it like a puzzle. Like a scavenger hunt. Very Naional Treasure-y. Very fun. Well played, British Museum. Well played.