A chronicle of movement aimed at synchronizing thoughts and keyboards with said movement.


Requesting Entry

Flying through the night and into the light was a very cool experience. Aside from the torturous jet lag, I recommend it wholeheartedly.

Then we arrived in London and went through all those laborious and generally boring details of moving in: unpacking, pleasantries, grabbing a pint (Fuller's Special...very warm and pleasant with unexpectedly bold hops) buying beer, etc.

And upon first glimpse (and final impression, I presume) of Londoners, all stereotypes are true. After sitting next to a sweet Irish lady on the plane, who discussed politics, postmodernism and Houston, Tx. with me, I was prepared for a group of people who already aren't too keen on conversation -- especially with American devils. And we are American devils, especially William, a colossal Asian man with a voice like a volcanic eruption and a hatred of Russians. London waitresses don't serve you; they wait for you to leave so they can continue their conversations while their tiny and silver-haired male accomplices waltz around your table and stare at you with eyes that demand your attention and annoyance. And their food is terrible. Just such basic mistakes made in cooking: what should be hot is cold (and vice-a-versa) and sauces are choked by an abundance of mince meat that renders the product some sort of bland, tomato-sauce-resembling mush. Delicacy here, apparently

But today will be mega tourism day. I'll check back in with pictures soon, I promise.


Post a Comment

<< Home