Where the history comes from

Friday, April 25, 2008

History drips off this place. You walk in it and it gets on your shoes, on the cuffs of your pantlegs. It's almost overwhelming.

Yesterday I wandered around Brick Lane and Whitechapel (where the infamous Jack the Ripper killed some hookers). I like brick buildings. I liked Brick Lane immensely. I took lots of pictures of the buildings.

After that we went to the Tower of London. It's probably one of my new favorite places. We caught a tour with the coolest Yeoman Warder ever. He yelled a lot and was probably the funniest tour guide on the planet. We got him to dip Jaime. She's got the pic up as her main right now. It's hilarious. He was actually saying something about boogers in her nose, that's why she has her hand over her face. She's going to kill me when she reads this.

Ends up the area I'm staying in is a big party district. I got like 2 hours of sleep. Apparently breaking bottles in the street is the second national sport of England behind Soccer. I wished many times that I had brought a pellet gun. Oh, the sweet, stinging revenge I would've had!

This morning was kind of a blur. Sleep deprivation is more fun than hallucinogens. We went to a swanky shopping district to buy some presents for the baby shower of one of Jaime's friends. We went to Selfridge's which is like Harrod's, but closer. I have a picture of Jaime wearing a $300 hat. Then I got yelled at for taking pictures. Like I was going to go sell the pictures in Taiwan or something. Highlight: a neoprene (the stuff wetsuits are made of) jacket that cost $2000.

Jaime wasn't feeling well later, so I nutted up (haha, Mike!) and struck out solo on the tube. Compared to the Munich U-bahn it's very confusing, but it falls into place quite quickly. It's very hard to tell which direction the train is going, since the maps don't say E or W anywhere. Apparently it's faster to get from East London to the city center by going E on the Circle line. I think there might be a time paradox in there somewhere.

The initial view of the Houses of Parliament reminded me of Munich. You walk up out of the subway and BAM there it is, right across the street. I really can't describe how massive it is. Pictures really don't do it justice at all. The thing is friggen huge. Big Ben has a ton of gold leaf on the top that never really shows up in pictures, either. I was just awe-struck by the whole thing. I guess they don't let you go inside though. Kind of a bummer.

I felt the same way about Westminster Abbey. The thing is just gigantic. You can't really appreciate it's size from a picture. I even took pics with people in them so maybe you could gauge the size in comparison, but it doesn't do it justice at all.

Then I walked down to Trafalgar Square and almost got hit by a cab. It's hard to tell yourself to look the wrong way before you cross the street when you've been looking the other way all your life. I don't think I could drive here.

The stuff in Trafalgar was impressive, but I didn't know what any of it was other than the big column... and then I thought that was Trafalgar. It's Lord Nelson, actually. I had the right guy in mind, just the wrong name. Battle of Trafalgar. I'm good with history, really.

The trip continued to get exciting on the way back. I had to use some creative mass-transit skills since the train that stops in Trafalgar is on a different line than the one that would take me home. Good thing I picked that specific route because there were some loud and obnoxious drunk teenage girls on the platform and one of them barfed on the floor just as we pulled out. Did I mention they drink a lot here? Like all the time. Everywhere. People walk down the street with beers in their hand. I'm not used to that at all.

Wait! There's more! Just as I was walking towards the exit in Liverpool Street station a bunch of bobbies swarmed in and chased down a guy. They had dogs and everything. I never did figure out what the guy did. Trist said he was probably a donut thief. Wacky British humor.

That's it. I'm exhausted. Tomorrow we go to Madrid. Neither of us speak a single word of spanish. Wish us luck!