As promised: The England Vacation Day 1

Okay! I think you all know how Day Zero went, with me having an escalatingly animous conversation with an airline drone. I made it safe and sound, made my connection and all that jazz, so life was good on that front. The trouble started once I got there.

I had no idea where we were supposed to be meeting.

I was told to meet "outside of the terminal." That sounds all well and good until you realize that Heathrow is set up in a very strange manner. There are three terminals, and it seems as if there's no place for people who aren't buses or taxis to park or do the keep-circling-the-airport thing, at least at Terminal 3, my terminal. I go outside and take a look around, though I don't even know what kind of vehicle will be picking me up. This exercise ends in a predictably futile manner, and I feel like a moron. At this point I'm getting annoyed and slightly worried. Things wouldn't be so bad if my cell phone worked in foreign countries so I could call and figure out what was going on. Alas, my cell phone would continue to search for service that would never arrive. Bummer. I guess that's what I get for having the world's oldest cell phone and a Verizon "Weak-Ass Plan."

Anyway, I figure this would be the time to get some British Pounds, the currency of the realm. That way I can use the incredibly high-priced payphone to call and see what's going on. Of course, I'm forced to buy something so I can get some actual change to use in the phone. I pick up a small little Snickers candy bar (which I later learn cost me almost $2. Yeah, you read that right.) I get change, make the call and finally get a hold of my mom, who's got the rented car and my sister's cell phone. It turns out they've been driving for almost 2 hours already, stuck in traffic. The best part is that they estimate they're still a good 90 minutes from the airport. I've already been here about 90 minutes already. London is seeming like a better and better place by the minute. I sit down, read a magazine, and keep an eye on my bags.

Ninety minutes pass...

I venture forth into the slight drizzle and 40-something-degree (Fahrenheit, never could figure out that Celsius crap) weather outside. I'm looking at random cars like a complete imbecile (or a writer for Joey, not sure which is worse.) I'm hoping to recognize the driver of at least one of them. At this point I notice that there are no SUVs whatsoever. Not a few, not less, none. I'm liking London a little bit more for this fact. They drive some tiny cars around there, though. Extra-tiny. Like enclosed-golf-cart-after-some-kinda-miniaturization-process tiny. I worry for my legs just a little bit. Finally I see some little blue minivan-hatchback-type-thing and recognize my mom and two of her friends in the car. I've never been so happy to see a microscopic car in my life. I was finally free of this wretched airport. I could finally start my vacation. This must be how Andy Dufresne felt after crawling through a sewer, etc., etc. I pile my crap in the car, we park it and then hop on the subway (aka "The Tube") and head down to Trafalgar Square for lunch.

I guess I may as well mention that I've been up for about 26 hours at this point. That's when the picture I posted earlier was taken. Here's just the nice fountain and tall statue, without me blocking the view this time:



We cross the street and go to this church:



It's called St. Martin In The Fields Church. Don't ask me why they added the In The Fields part. I'd think St. Martin's would do just fine. Maybe they had too many St. Martin's churches around and had to differentiate them somehow. I guess I'll never know. Anyway, this one has a crypt beneath where there are actual graves that make up the floor. I know what you're thinking at this point. "Hey, that would make a bitchin' place for a cafeteria-style restaurant!" You'd be right. They made the crypt into a cafeteria-style restaurant. Cause, hey, why the hell not, right? Click that if you want to read tombstones. Creepy.



After lunch we walked down the street to check out Parliament, Big Ben and the other fun stuff. It's interesting that all in that little area you have Trafalgar Square, Leicester Square, Picadilly Circus, Westminster Abbey, Parliament, Big Ben and 10 Downing Street. That's like if Washington DC's major landmarks were all within 4 or 5 blocks of each other. Pretty convenient, if you ask me. You can't get anywhere near 10 Downing Street anymore, though. I guess the terrorists did win. Bummer.



This is The Eye, a giant ferris wheel they built for the whole Year 2000 stuff, but decided to leave up since people will pay $25 to ride it. It's quite big, considering I'm across the River Thames and a few blocks in and it's still living it up that large.



Here's Big Ben. It photographs well, what can I say. It also tells time, which is a hell of a bonus. Looking at this picture, I wonder if the dude with the guidebook down there ever figured out where he was going. Probably not. He looked American, after all.

After this we checked out my sister's school since her class was finally over. Then we hopped on the tube, went back to where we parked the car, paid the $20 in parking charges for 3 hours (you read that right) and all piled into the car and drove up to Bath. Bath is a good, old-fashioned town, with what was probably my favorite pub, a place called "The New Inn." More about Bath tomorrow, though. I've certainly typed enough for one night. If you've read this far, I give you a round of applause...