So it begins...

So, the journey has officially begun! On the plane I was thinking about kicking off this first post with some poetic reference to the explorer Magellan and his voyage around the world, but then I remembered that Magellan did not actually survive that little boat trip, a little known fact that makes for an unfortunate metaphor.

We arrived at Gatwick airport at 6 in the a.m., in the midst of a “security incident”, which translated into us standing in the custom’s “queue” for a couple of hours. The queue is something of a British art form; no other culture in the world can match the enthusiasm with which Britons wait in line. Today’s particular queue was nothing less than a masterpiece. It consisted of no less than 10 switchbacks and, on occasion, looped back around the entire group. I half seriously/half jokingly think that this obsession with lines has something to do with the fact that the British spent the better part of the last century waiting in rations lines (rationing from WWII didn’t end until the 1950s). In any case, the “security incident” ended in a guy being lead away in handcuffs and a female security officer admonishing him, “We don’t take kindly to people causing disturbances in our customs area.” No wonder we beat the Revolutionary crap out of them. I can just hear King George saying, “We don’t take kindly to people seceding in our colony areas.”

The mere fact that we arrived at Gatwick caused some problems in itself. For some reason, up until about 30 min. before we boarded our flight, I was convinced that we were flying into Heathrow. Gatwick is about twelve miles further out of the city than Heathrow and not connected to the tube system. This left us to choose between a $160 taxi ride, a mythical bus, or train. We chose the train and it cost us $36 and one of Erica’s shoes to get into the city (I’ll leave that part of the story to her). Another hour or two of frantic train and subway swapping wandering around looking for the hotel, and we finally arrived at our hostel. We were still 4 hours too early for check-in, so we tossed our stuff in the luggage room and walked a block to Hyde Park. We wandered over to the fountain area and took short naps in shifts on a park bench. A very peaceful contrast to airports and train stations.

From Hyde Park, we crossed the Thames and went over to Southwark to see Shakespeare’s Globe Theatre. We didn’t go inside because we could only afford standing room only tickets, and by this point the prospect of standing for a 3.5 hour play was less than appealing.

From the Globe we walked to the Imperial War Museum. Best. Museum. Ever. And completely free. They have everything from Monty’s WWII tank to a WWI trench warfare simulation (along with amazing artifacts from pretty much every war ever fought. Two hours of the museum later and our two hours of plane sleep had caught up with us. We ate cheap by stopping at a grocery store and getting some pre-prepared falafel stuff and a carton of orange juice. We took it to a playground in a little rundown housing complex and ate while trying not to get hit by soccer balls.

After eating, we came back to the hostel and crashed. The hostel is ok. Kind of like summer camp with more hippies and alcohol. Aside from that description, I’ll say it would be a lot more fun if we were 19 or 20. At 25.5 I feel I a little old for this place.

Well, I’m going to doze off again to the soothing sounds of Euro techno thumping through the wall from the bar two rooms away. Tomorrow night, Venice.