I See London, I See France.... (Pt. 1)

I See London, I See France... Pt. 1 - Off to London

Dear friends,

This is the story how Peter did venture forth to wander in early September, and in the process of venturing, found many fascinating, pleasing, and yes folks, even titillating things (I only say this to this to draw in those who are simply perusing their e-mail accounts for racy dialogue).

Once again, this accounting comes with a preambulatory warning, if you have a weak back, are on any medication, or have a heart condition, please close this e-mail any time you start feeling weird/nauseous/really enraged. Just as before, if at any time you feel as if you are stuck to your aunt's plastic covered couch watching a comatose inducing slide show, please close this e-mail.

Sometime earlier this year, I decided that I would do some traveling, and once again fly as high as a kite on that cultural bender known as Europe. I would see all there was to see, and suck the living marrow out of the bones of this intellectually rich continent (please ignore any implications of cannibalism). I know what you're saying, "Peter, with a continent as vast as Europe, how did you expect to suck it all in during the course of two weeks?" And I say exactly, which is why I planned on three weeks (smile).

Plans were made, tickets were purchased, diplomatic immunity was sought after (but not granted), and soon, it was one day before my trip, and I was stomping on my backpack trying to fit everything in.

Since I hadn't traveled with my backpack in three years, I was a bit out of practice. Even after I got the hang of it, I discovered I would only be able to bring that which was necessary.

Regrettably, I had to leave my easel at home, so no recreating Renoirs in the Louvre for me. Likewise, the large block of marble with with I was going to copy the Venus de Milo had to be left home as well.

There was also another problem; somehow I had missed the fact (until a day before) that Travelocity had me changing airports in New York.... with only a two hour buffer.... during the Republican National Convention.... during rush hour. Yes, the people at United thought that this was completely nuts, as did I, but Travelocity didn't want to help me out. Fortunately, United came through eventually and put me on an earlier flight to New York.

So, everything was okay; although, did I ever mention that I don't really sleep on planes? I don't know if it's the noise, the drink carts running into my knees, or simply that fact that I must fold myself in two simply to fit into coach class, but I don't tend to sleep on planes. So, I didn't plan on sleeping during the journey.

The flight went fine, although, in an effort to placate the man in the seat next to me, who thought that the flight attendant was ignoring him and was getting quite agitated, I was forced to make a beer run to the back of the plane. Yes, my first airborne beer run ever. The ensuing conversation with the flight attendant went something like this,

Peter: Hi, can I get a beer please?
Attendant: No, you can't.
Peter: (somewhat shocked expression)
Attendant: Just kidding! You should have seen your face.
Peter: Yeah, I've been told I wear a great expression of shock.
Attendant: What can I get you?
Peter: Miller Lite, please. It's for the guy sitting next to me.
Attendant: Sure it is!
Peter: No, really, it is.
Attendant: How about a Heineken, instead?
Peter: Actually, I'll take one of those too. No, really, I honestly do need the Miller Lite for the guy next to me.
Attendant: Oh, okay then, here you go.

Yes, he was one of the wittiest flight attendants I've ever run into. Regrettably, my attainment of Heineken only ticked off the guy next to me even more, because the attendant who he thought was ignoring him had told him there weren't any.

Alas, I digress.

So, I arrived in London in the morning, found my hotel near Earl's Court, and hit the sack for a few hours, knowing that I would very well get myself lost in the coming days, and that I would simply be more lost if I was tired as well.

Next up: Pt.2, The Coronation Spoon!

Peter