For British Eyes Only

A picture of Bristol from the top of St. Michael's Hill.

So I am back from London after making the almost hour long trek from the coach station to my apartment. This will mean nothing to anyone who does not come to Bristol, but St. Michael's Hill is a stupid whore of a hill. Also it was raining and I hadn't a hood.

London was fun. On Saturday we saw Cabaret on the West End. (I don't really know how you are supposed to say you saw a West End show. Like, if I saw something on Broadway I would say exactly that: "I saw it on Broadway." So I'm just using that terminology whether or not it is correct.) It was very good; there was a lot of nudity. Those two points are mostly unrelated.

Two things about London theatre, or at least the production we saw. Numbero uno: No free programs. Not even a playbill or something comparable. Jerks! It cost three pounds to just get a regular program for the specific performance, and it wasn't nearly as neat and special as the ones you can buy on Broadway (I think). Numbero dos: During intermission they sold tiny things of Häagen-Dazs from a cart in the actual theatre. Not even the hallway. I got strawberry and it was delicious.



After Times Square, Leicester Square is my least favorite place to walk.

Other than that we didn't do anything too special. We ate some Chinese food on Saturday before the show, and today Joe and I went to Buckingham Palace after we dropped Ashley off at her bus. More impressive than the palace itself was the hoard of identically dressed Asians we saw. The women were wearing long, white, puffy down coats and black leather boots. The men were wearing navy blue anorak-type jackets with yellow lining, jeans, and black leather shoes. They were like the Asian Duggars. It was weird. They were everywhere.

Hanging out with Joe and Ashley was fun. It was sort of like being home again, except instead of bickering in a movie theater or at Harris Teeter, we bickered on the banks of the Thames and in the shadow of Big Ben.

Right now I have a very specific craving. It is to order a Papa John's pizza, sit on my couch, and watch television. Instead I will probably plan my schedule. UNC apparently did post their course listings on Friday, but they posted them at around 8 p.m. Eastern, which, with the time difference, translates to Way Past My Bedtime o'clock.