London...You Know, It's Kind of a Fog

You gotta love London...the place is filled with more freaks than the Orange County Fair on wristband day. Our trip began with an unbelievably annoying group of Scottish women who were neatly tucked behind us on our flight from Budapest (and yes, this is us saying this). Apparently, the ringleader of the group has been living under a rock for, oh, say, five years, and didn't understand the issue with screaming "I hate Americans!" on a plane. In any event, we made sure she knew we were Americans the first chance we had. She even tried on a smart mouth for a second and asked if I'd ever been to Scotland; I shut her up promptly and we were soon her best friends.

All that aside, we'd safely made it to one of the greatest cities in the world. We hopped a train to the city centre and began the search for our hostel in West Kensington. We seriously stumbled upon a gold mine! It was the cutest and cleanest place, complete with convenient on-site bar and even a garden with a hot tub! Although we didn't use it, the weather was surprisingly friendly this time around so I think we could have if we wanted.

Anyway, we'd seen a pub on our way in and all of us were starving! KT wanted a proper fish and chips meal, so it was the perfect place to settle in. The place was really fun...and had great music, until we realized that it was about five songs that were looping continuously. Hey, it kept us entertained! We hit the hay pretty early that night so we could get up refreshed the next day and see the entire city. We did the requisite tourist thing and hopped a double-decker bus, but it really was the best way to see the sites and the massive city. We caught a glimpse of the changing of the guards (holy mother of a crowd that thing draws!), meandered around the entire city, and ended the day with a trip to Harrods, where we got lost looking for the bathroom. That place is a labyrinth. We even saw two people getting in trouble by the cops for sleeping on the side of the road- and they weren't bums!

That night, we decided we wanted to indulge in a new dining experience, so we made reservations at a Moroccan restaurant in Covent Garden. It's too bad we didn't read the fine print on the website-- we were shocked that there were no belly dancers in sight when we arrived! Apparently, they don't dance on Sunday nights, and the waiter wasn't catching our drift that he'd make a dandy fill-in. The food was surprisingly good though, and we managed to drag along a Yankee friend... Mr. Greg Strezlo.

I think we scared the crap out of him... between our ability to down more than our fair share of wine and beer and our incessant shrieks of laughter and talking over one another, we managed to keep him with us for the evening. When we got home, Colleen and Kevy hadn't had enough so unbeknown to the sleeping KT and myself, they went downstairs and talked the front desk agent at the hostel into opening the bar and serving them. This wasn't before he gave them a sobriety test, which they claim they passed with flying colors. There are pictures of this that can be furnished upon request! Additionally, there are numerous pictures of Kevy and her handstands that she attempted to perfect all throughout our hostel, and only at the most odd times of the night. How her and Colleen did not wake the entire place up, and/or get us kicked out b/c of the security cameras that were EVERYWHERE, I'll never know!

Strelz apparently hadn't had enough, and decided to come back for seconds the next night. The one thing we couldn't convince him to do, however, was attend the Anthony King "Michael Jackson" dance class with us at Pineapple Studios. We're "thrilled" to report that for a brief moment in time, we knew about three steps to Smooth Criminal! Our teacher, on the other hand (who did remember Colleen and I from a previous class), was so disturbed by our unabashed lack of coordination and our complete disregard for everything he was trying to show us, that he just laughed and shook his head, sweat helicoptering off and onto all of us. What could he do? We were tangling ourselves around the other people in the class, including one particularly cheeky a-hole who was wearing WAY too much makeup. And it looked awful. And she sucked at dancing too.

Right then-- dance class over, and my God were we sweating! So, it was time to grab Greg and hit the town for our last night. We chose Indian for the meal, and our roommate, (mind you, earlier in the day was the 1st time we'd seen her since we arrived) a Swedish model, decided to join us. We were really a mockery in this tiny restaurant, so we left and hit up the 1st club we saw. It sucked...short of Colleen break dancing on the floor to show-up this one guy. Honestly, the place looked like Saturday Night at the Apollo, so we hightailed it out of there, but not before I became verbally abusive to the bouncer who didn't watch the Kingfisher beer glass we had helped ourselves to in the Indian restaurant. I kindly asked the guy to hand me back the babysitting fee I'd paid him upon entrance...he wasn't going for it.

Confused on where to go next, the Swede stepped in and started rattling off some clubs. She was kinda pissed that none of us were submitting to paying 15 pounds to get into what she dubbed "one of the best clubs in London," but let's face it...we're bar people. So we grabbed some cabs and headed home for a hostel party. It was our last night, and it was rapidly coming to an end. "Hmmm... you should definitely go out with a bang on your last night." Here are a few ways you might achieve that:

A) On suggestion from a cabby, talk a liquor store into serving you well past when they should
B) Lose a bottle of wine in the 5-minute transit
C) Bring back a friend to the hostel and try to sneak him in
D) Pay for your friend to stay in the hostel for the night b/c you can't sneak him in
E) Pass out with a glass of wine in your hand and your clothes on
F) Have your best friend change you into your pajamas
G) Finish your hand-held salami
H) Have another go at talking a different liquor store into serving you during the wee hours of the morning
I) Get the minimum amount of sleep required to get you to the airport for the dreadful 11-hour flight home

Anyway, just some suggestions. That pretty much rounds out our trip! We can't wait to get back there next year, and I've already started pre-plotting where our travels might take us post-Oktoberfest. In the meantime, thx for checking in and sorry this is about a week late. I figured, we have roughly 350 days until the next time I write, so what the hell is the rush? Now, get off my back. Thank you!