The UK ... Episode 1

Alrighty Then…

I’ve suffered through the first and extremely chaotic week back at work so I’ll take the time reminisce about my trip. It’s mainly for my benefit but I’ll throw Terry a bone too.

First things first, British Airways was a different flying experience and in a good way. It’s still an airplane, you’re still stuck in it for an ungodly amount of time but you are considered a human being. They serve you free drinks and meals (all included in the ticket price) and will gladly try to accommodate any request you have. The entertainment system is updated to the individual touch screens that allow you watch whatever selection you wish, unlike some other airlines (cough… !$#@!&* AMERICAN…cough). To top it off, the seat is actually comfortable.
Even more shocking than a somewhat pleasant flying experience was the immigration and customs process. I was not, I repeat not, treated like a criminal. I showed them my passport, told them I was a tourist, said I had nothing to declare and then simply walked out into the arrival area.

Ok, so that’s it for the mundane travelling portion. I arrived in London at 10:00 AM local time. I grabbed a train, transferred to The Tube and checked into the Radisson Kenilworth Hotel. I spent the next four days exploring the city, museums and the nightlife. I spent over four hours in the British National Museum. The one where they house all of the Egyptian artifacts including the Rosetta Stone. I also made a point of visiting the RAF museum which was incredible, and incredibly haunting.

The nightlife was wild.

I’m not going to incriminate myself online but I had a great time. I met tons of people and found that in London there’s somebody willing to drink to excess no matter what night of the week it is (This worked greatly to my benefit). Oddly enough, there were more people from around the world than there were from the UK. I met American servicemen from Germany, Aussies, Chileans, French, Fellow Canadians and actual Germans.

I have to comment on the way they dress in London. I’ll give you a hint; they don’t dress like me (like a country bumpkin that is). Everyone, men and women, seem to make it a point to dress somewhat more…upscale. I walked down Oxford Street (sort of like Robson Street in Vancouver) and the sheer amount of people shopping for ridiculously priced clothing was overwhelming. Suffice to say I became hopelessly irritated by the crowd within two minutes, despite while to breathe deep and not snap the necks of the idiots standing still in the middle of the %@!%! sidewalk. Crowd and irritation aside, it was obvious they take their clothes seriously in London.

Well, that’s all for now folks. Tune in next time to hear about my Adventures in Scotland.