'Arrival in London, England. Check into your hotel. In the afternoon you may want to start exploring the lively British capital. Uniformed Cosmos hosts are available to help you make the most of your stay.'

6 a.m. English time

OK, since I can't sleep (and I really haven't been able to sleep AT ALL for a number of reasons no matter how hard I tried), I may as well go ahead and register several complaints about international flights. Well, first of all, there's no way to sleep in a sitting position in an uncomfortable chair. I mean, give me a wooden floor, let me get horizontal, and I'm out like a light. But not when I have to sit. There's nowhere to lean your head without getting a crick in your neck, there's nowhere to rest your feet, and if your legs are not long they get pulled at the knee joints trying to reach the floor. If you're seated by the window, the cold leaks in. The captain dude keeps dinging bells and buzzing buzzers and making stupid announcements all night. Plus they turn these infernally bright overhead lights on at an ungodly hour. Lisa and I have the added comfort of having two ~totally~ old dudes behind us who, when they weren't pulling our hair holding onto our seats standing up to go to the bathroom or making absolutely vile noises clearing their throats, were fighting with each other over the stupidest stuff like a couple of bratty little kids, back and forth, back and forth all night long. They were like some married couple that hates each other but ends up staying together because neither one wants to be alone. I wonder what they're going to England for? Anyhow, I was ready to crawl up over the back of my seat and tell them to knock it off and just be nice to each other because they were upsetting me. This concludes my diatribe about our flight. On a positive note, our stewards just delivered fruit and croissants for breakfast. We had salad, chicken cacciatori, noodles, vegetables, rolls, butter, cheese, crackers, carrot cake, and a mint for dinner. We didn't starve after all!

6:10 a.m.

OK, we're right in the middle of a bunch of really big clouds now. We are soon to be released from this tedium, thank heavens. My nostrils and lungs feel like they've been sucking smog. It's sick. Like Lisa says - what makes some people think they can pollute other people's air? Why should I get cancer from their disgusting habit? Why should I stink and feel sick because of their stupidity? It's totally unfair. I was mentioning the temperature earlier - I can see FROST on my window. Now that's cold!

9:30 p.m.

Well! What a day! When we got off the plane we had to go through customs (~SO~ rude!) and then look like total tourists trying to find our COSMOS TOURAMA (oh, lord!) tour guide. She was supposed to be dressed in a red suit, and she ~was~, only so were the other 4 women I accosted ~before~ her who ~weren't~ with Cosmos! I felt like such a dork. Before we even left the airport it became ~very~ evident to us that England is FULL of ~really~ cute boys. I mean ~swarming~. Our Cosmos rep took us over to our driver who was already waiting with some old couple from New Jersey - get the picture?! Our driver gives us a luggage trolley, puts our stuff on it, and then tells us to push it and follow him. What?! Wrong, homey! Lisa pulled a perfect helpless Southern female routine (I couldn't have done it better myself!) which shortly corrected the situation. In other words, Sir Driver pushed the luggage to the car for us like a good little gentleman. (~What~ was he thinking to even ~try~ and have us push it in the first place?!) We were soon a little trio ambling to the car as we basically left the New Jersey pair in the dust. The driver would look back every couple of minutes just to make sure they were still on the horizon trudging after us. The driver kept asking us questions trying to make small talk. When we got to the car, the driver and the husband sat in the front, and I got wedged in the backseat between Lisa and that New Jersey haus frau. Well, it was a very tight ride, and you ~know~ how I hate having my personal space invaded. I get hot way too easily to be comfortable. As soon as I heard the N.J. couple was staying in a separate hotel, I ~knew~ the driver would drop them off first to make time with us, as gross even as we looked, felt, and smelled at that point!

Let me backtrack a little to the flight. As the plane began its descent we could see murky shapes beneath us and then nothing but wisps of fog and clouds. I felt very strange. I felt like Merlin traveling backwards through time - like I was going somewhere magical, somewhere I had a connection to. I guess that's a result of my obsessive lifelong Anglophilism! Either that or I am totally full of it! But I'm serious. As we got lower it was ~very~ green - a patchwork of green fields and woods. Very pretty. And it was raining - what a surprise!

But anyhow, this driver was supposed to take us directly to our hotel from the airport. People in England are ~lunatics~ on the road. They are the craziest drivers I have ever seen - much worse than in Washington, D.C. They go 80 m.p.h. on the highway, they tailgate, they switch lanes haphazardly - I was a nervous wreck in the back seat! I was convinced that this time it was going to be reconstructive plastic surgery for me for sure. As we got closer to London we started driving through the suburbs. They were ~so~ pretty. The houses are all so quaint and attractive. They are all different, unlike boring American cookie cutter houses that are all identical in a neighborhood, yet most of them were variations on a themeSasymmetrical, leaded irregular windows and ~beautiful~ flowers. Flowers are ~everywhere~. No matter how modest the house or small the yard, flowers are blooming all over - they overflow the window boxes, climb up and over the fences and hedges, and crowd around the walkways. Absolutely beautiful. Why can't Americans appreciate things like that? It would be so easy to have window boxes, even in cities. I need to plant some when I get back. It makes you happier just to see color and prettiness around you like that.

When we finally got into the city, it was way crowded with traffic. I feared for my life (and/or face!) once again. They don't have two full lanes - they have like one and P, and you kind of pull in and out with a wish and a prayer. It is ~scary~. Our driver was especially reckless. I think he was showing off, trying to impress us. We passed some school kids, looking very depressed, walking to school. They have to go until the end of July. Then they only get 6 weeks off. What a drag! So we finally drop off the N.J. couple (thank god - it was getting painful listening to the driver correct the wife after she misquoted her junior high history lessons), and then homeboy broke loose and started to bust a move. For one thing, he took off his coat, then he loosened his tie, told us his name is Anthony (his name has been changed to put this on the internet - I don't want to get sued!), and asked us who we are. It seems Anthony is a Cockney. He asked us if we'd want to go out dancing Friday night with him and a buddy of his, so we said sure because we:

1. didn't have any other plans,
2. don't know anyone else in London,
3. don't know where to go on our own,
4. are stupid, and
5. all of the above.

(The answer is number 5, by the way.) However, homeboy has a ring on the third finger of his left hand and received a call on the car phone ~allegedly~ from his dad while he was carting us around - likely story - oh, yeah, my dad calls me at work all the time to check up on me - not! But anyhow, he drove us in circles all over London trying to find our hotel - I think he was pulling a guy maneuver just trying to extend his time with us by deliberately not taking us straight to it since we didn't know our way around and therefore wouldn't notice, he hoped - by the time we finally got to our hotel it was like 9:30, and we were ready to ~drop~. Anthony carted all our bags in for us, got our room number, and said he'd call us up about tomorrow night. We figure he can entertain us and show us around - whatever! Lisa crashed immediately, but I had to take a shower I felt so vile. Much to my dismay I discovered that my conditioner had leaked all over one suitcase, and rubbing alcohol had spilled in my makeup case - lovely. !@#$%^&*!!!!!

Shortly after midnight

All right, now to finish writing about Thursday's activities. Lisa and I slept until 5 p.m. and then got up and got ready. Very much to our dismay (word of the day!), we discovered that the adapter Lisa brought with her ~doesn't work~ in the plugs here. Good lord - what are we going to do? No blowdrier, no iron, no curlers. We must rectify this situation immediately. Lisa suggested that we tell Anthony he has to bring us a proper adapter if he wants to go out with us!!! Let me just say here a little more on that topic. He seems like a nice enough guy, and I'm ~not~ the type of girl to totally use some guy, so mostly we're just playing around referring to him as our boyfriend and boy toy and stuff when we discuss him. But at the same time, we are concerned that he may have misconceptions about American girls and see us as easy prey. However, as Ted said in the ~Bogus Journey~, "Our babes are most chaste," so Anthony may have to learn that "Homey don't play that!"

So anyhow, after we're ready we get directions and a map from the desk clerk and then go across the street to a fish 'n' chips place for dinner. I had a beef and kidney pie (looked mass produced but tasted great), chips (fries), and what they call lemonade (it turned out to be some nasty lemon lime soda which quickly turned warm as they didn't give me any ice). Lisa got some kind of fried fish, chips, and a coke. Then Lisa had apple pie, and I got a strawberry tart with cream for dessert. Lisa's dessert was OK, but I like American apple pie (especially mine - I'm ~SO~ modest!) much better. My tart was really delicious - really, really, really delectable. The whole dinner came to 9 pounds, 7 p, so I tipped her 2 pounds, 3 p. I'm basically considering a pound to be equal
to $2.

Next we walked down Central, right on Old, and left on Goswell to get to the Underground. We found another boyfriend to help us figure out the train schedule and how to pay. He wanted to know if we'd be back to the station by 11 o'clock - guess we could've had another date if we'd wanted! So we went down to wait for the train, and OH*MY*GOD!!!!!!!!! There were just SOOOOOO many cute boys. It blows my mind. I can't really explain it - they are everywhere. That's the main difference between here and home so far - just the sheer number of good looking guys. And there is something else about the guys here, too - by no means do they all look the same, but they all ~do~ seem to have more ~style~ than most American boys. Especially their hair - they have the neatest hair cuts. Really nice hair. Really cool styles. But not like they spend girly amounts of time on it. And they dress really cute, too. Even the totally slobby, poor type boys have style. Even the TRASHMEN here are cute!!! And their yuppies aren't repulsive like ours - they look interesting instead of vapid and self-absorbed and all the same.

We were heading for the departure spot of one of the walking tours done by 'The Original London Walks' company which my father highly recommended to me. So we rode the subway to the Embankment stop and got off. This subway station is beside the River Thames. It's built on land reclaimed from the River, or so our tour guide, Graham, told us. Graham was a very amusing, very nice older man. We went on a tour with him called 'Ghosts of the West End'. It cost 4 pounds for ~both~ of us to go on the tour. I think that's a great deal. The tour started at 7:30. We tramped all over the place while Graham told us little anecdotes and ghost stories about the city. We walked through a ~gorgeous~ garden by the Thames that I'd like to go back and take pictures of. Gardens here are gorgeous because they ~look~ very informal - varying heights and types of flowers with splotches of all different colors spaced out here and there. We learned a little about architecture in some area called the Delphi after some pair of brothers named Adams, we walked through the Covent Garden area which is SUPER COOL and that we must investigate further (really bohemian - the Ghent or Little 5 Points of London - cute boys ~everywhere~ - a Punch and Judy theater - a little Fellini's-like eatery), we went through the theater district, and we finished up by seeing some old gentlemen's clubs and some historic sights. Lisa and I took pictures of some club called the Athenian which was like a literary gentlemen's club that Dickens and Thackery belonged to. Again, the window boxes were spectacular - ivy and flowers cascading, perrenials, philodendron, and small evergreens standing, and vines climbing. And like Philadelphia, there is ~beautiful~ stonecarving everywhere and stunning wrought iron work on the windows, fences, and entries. Two streets had little gargoyle faces in rows on all the houses - funny! So pretty. I can't imagine what it must be like to live in the midst of all this - to be surrounded by such beauty and history. Cobbled streets and gaslights - the coolest. It's even cooler than Atlanta, the highest praise I am capable of thus far regarding cities! I'm ready to teach
abroad now!

After the tour, Graham suggested a little pub called the 2 Chairmen. It was quiet and nice. We got 2 half pints of Foster's for about 1 pound, 6 p. Graham came over and sat with us for a bit. Then we went to the bar and talked to an ~adorable~ little bartender for a while. We learned from him when we bought 2 more half pints that you ~don't~ tip bartenders in England. Interesting. You can offer to buy them a drink, but you can't leave them money.

Next we rode the subway back to where we were staying. We were talking about our hair the whole way - bad haircuts and dye and stuff - and we must've impressed the dude across from us as being supremely superficial, stupid, capitalist American pigs because as he is getting off the train he spits out snidely at us, "Is that what's considered culture in your country???" He seemed quite caustic and angry. I don't know what the hell his problem was. Like does he typically sit around discussing Newtonian physics on the subway? I don't think so. What a jerk. But then a nice English man apologized for that loser's bad behavior and talked to us.

We walked back from the subway to the hotel, and there was a message waiting for us from our boyfriend Anthony about picking us up tomorrow night. Right now we're hanging out in the lobby drinking coffee (Lisa) and mineral H2O (me) [1 pound and some change, and I gave the rest to the bartender as evidently one ~does~ tip in hotel bars], finishing up our journals for the day so we can go to sleep.