London

"Sailing downstairs to the Northern line
watching the shine of his shoes"
-Nick Drake

Managed to make it into London ok yesterday, albeit a little (make that a lot) tired. Heathrow was surprisingly hassle-free, considering I'm made of approximately 70% liquid. Took the udnerground from the airport to the hotel, which is quite large (number of rooms-wise). The room I'm in, however is the approximate dimensions of a shoebox. Maybe two. Three at most. It's well located though - right in front of the Savoy Theatre...very central for sightseeing. Speaking of which...

When I first came to this internet cafe several hours ago, I was going to lead off by saying that London's a terriffic town, provided you're willing to not eat. I've since changed my mind after an awesome meal over in Greenwich. I love this town...not as much as, say, Madrid, but I'm hoping we can still be friends. I admit it...I've always had a soft spot for the English; their skill with backhanded compliments, the way they get all uppity when you accuse them of having an accent, even the way they insist on re-arranging these damn keyboards so I can't find any of the f***ing symbols that I need. Despite that last one, they're altogether my kind of people (reverse not necessarily true).

When I first got into the city, I noticed that they've painted "look left" or "look right" on the roead in front of all the pedestrian crossings. I thought to myself "what kind of idiot would need those instructions?". Turns out they put them there just for me. Yup, even after a couple of close encounters, first with a bus (that would have hurt), and then with a mini (hah - I outweighed that thing by like 20 pounds), I still always manage to instinctively look the wrong direction. Story of my life I guess

Not that this was much of an update, but I might have another tomorrow - not sure. Heading to the British Mueseum to look over the stolen goods, and then to the Tower of London to do some Raven-chasing.

Oh, by popular demand, I'm turning comments on, but keeping them moderated. Don't need for my family to see what kind of clowns (trying to be nice) some of my friends are. I'm looking at you, Sheldon, Gord and Kevin