When I got to London, I was still in 'foreign land' mode. I kind of forgot that people speak English here. Every now and then I still feel like I have to speak slowly so people can understand what I'm saying. Then again, there are words and phrases that I use here that amuse and confuse people. Ex. It's flatmates, not roommates. It's the boot in the reat of the car, not a trunk. And it's vodka with ice, not vodka on the rocks (yelling 'vodka rocks' may get you a bottle of Corona in a loud bar)
The next morning we had croissants, scrambled eggs, and juice before heading out to Bromley to drop off the car. We grabbed lunch at Miso where I had some yummy Udon and duck. I'm so glad I set up FeedTony.com before I left. London's hideously expensive. Imagine all of the prices being comparable to the United States. That is, A plate of noodles is priced at say, 7£ which is fine here. In reality, it's $14 US dollars. That 6£ drink, not bad... except that it's $12 in the US. HUGE thanks to my brothers and Y for helping me stay fed this past week in London and Paris.
London's a great city with a cool mixture of modern architecture and buildings that are centuries old. Again, everywhere I pass through is like being in a film, from lush green countrysides to the posh streets of London. It's a transportation of mind and body that doesn't always register. I find myself spacing out sometimes. I keep thinking 'where am I, what am I doing here?'
The five of us strolled along the river Thames for a bit before finding a pub that served up some great steak and stilton pie. I amazed my British buddies by polishing off every bit of the heavy meal. We wandered around the streets a bit, hunting for a particular night club that we didn't know the name of. We finally found it and after a few drinks hit the crowded dance floor. Lots of bootie shaking going on.
A few lovely ladies caught my attention on the dance floor but I still wasn't ballsy enough to say hello even though Simon claimed my American accent would get me somewhere. I was having enough fun with our own ladies and couldn't be bothered anyhow. Besides, what's a Tony adventure somewhere without a ten minute crush that goes nowhere?
After we'd sweat ourselves out enough it was time to head to an Arab joint for some tea and late night eats. I snacked on an Egyptian dessert while the others passed around the Shisha and gobbled up lamb shawarma. It was a smoky atmosphere of Arab Londoners sobering up after clubbing or celebrating their birthdays with a five minute serenade blasting from the restaurant's PA system.
Finally, we rode the infamous 'night bus' back to Bromley. It was a quieter night on the double-decker bus, with only one fight below us, but I was fine not having to witness anyone vomiting in the aisles.
I was told stories of the unpredictability of the London night bus. The Tube stops running around midnight so intoxicated revellers have to hop a night bus to get back home. The rides can be filled with angry drunks, fist fights, and vomiting. Or you may end up dropped off far from your intended destination and having to hoof it home. Whatever the case, it beats drinking and driving!