A weekend in London

For those of you who have never been to London, here’s a quick wrap up of our trip last weekend: We’re bloody broke....but we had a good time anyway.

My friend and St. Mary’s county native who we visited there, Adam, told us the exchange rate was about 2:1. What does this mean? Well, for a stingy chap like me, it means my heart stopped for a second when the waitress at our first pub stop said the total for three drinks was “13 pounds 20, love.”

For those bad at math, that’s about $26. For three drinks. Three.

Anyway, my miserly ways aside, London was good. Kate had not been there before, but I had– albeit for a very short trip. Either way, we were both ready and willing to see the town. Luckily, Adam was willing to help me maintain a good wallet weight by providing not only free boarding, but also a free walking tour. Cheers, Adam!We started by heading through the eternal foggy drizzle to Buckingham Palace – also known colloquially as “Buck House,” – which is the official residence of the royal family, including the Queen, King, Ace, Jack, and sometimes 9 (if you’re playing pinochle).

Then we took a walk through a very green park known as “Green Park,” and made our way through the city and into Chinatown, where we had a buffet lunch for some blood-pressure-raising price of $82 per person or something. To calm myself down, I’m going to post a happy Green Park picture here. After my blood pressure rose some more from the General Tso’s, we headed for Trafalgar Square – home of the famous 12-foot statue of a naked, pregnant, disabled woman.

Some, like the British Disability Rights Commission, call this sculpture of London native Allison Napper powerful and arresting. I think it’s kind of creepy. The artist, an apparent friend of Ms. Napper, said disabled people are underrepresented in art. Um, hello? What about all those statues from Greek times that are missing arms and legs. Duh.

We then left the creepy statue and the apparently permanent protest against war going on at Trafalgar Square and headed for London’s most classic structure, the “What, Not Butter!” container.

Actually, we noticed many oddly named foods, such as these “Traditional Pork Scratchings,” which actually say they come from “Authentic Black Country” and are stamped with the state postal symbol for Mississippi. Now, I’m now professor of decorum, but that didn’t strike me as being as sophisticated and cultured as I hoped the London-ites would be.

Speaking of food, here’s a snappy snap I couldn’t help but post. This one actually says this chunk of meat is “Savoury Duck or Faggot.” Now, this strikes me as weird for two reasons. One, Faggot? WTF? What else do I have to say about that? Two, they use the word “or.” Like they bought it from a forgetful butcher who couldn’t remember what he just chopped up. OK, enough about that.

On another random rant, I have to give you my two cents about British English. For those not in the know, the Brits use a lot of what we’d consider baby talk in their vernacular. The term “snappy snap” I took from a film developer’s sign. After eating “brekkie” they may turn on the “telly” or perhaps go outside and protect themselves from the rain by using their “brellies.” Seriously, Guvnah. That’s a little babyish.

Anyway, back to the tour.

Here’s the London Eye – and apparent “Eye sore” to many in the city as it is mammoth, ugly, and blocks the view of lots of things for lots of people. Currently, it’s the largest Ferris wheel in the world. And then there’s the view over the Thames and the Tower Bridge, which sits in front of the Tower of London (obscured by Kate’s head). The Tower, which we didn’t visit as it’s $9,442,070.20 to get in, is the home of the Crown Jewels, some scary ghost stories, and a bunch of ravens who, if they ever leave, will cause the Tower to crumble and a great disaster to befall England. Let’s hope the bird flu doesn’t head that way.Then, there was Harrod’s for – oddly enough – a little taste of home: some hot, freshly made Krispy Kreme doughnuts.

Here’s Adam and I in front of Westminster Abbey doing the obviously cool thing to do: Signing in our gang language “W” and “A” (for Westminster Abbey, of course).

And then, there’s St. Paul’s, a church only rivaled in size and presence by St. Peter’s Basilica in the Vatican. Unfortunately for St. Paul’s, I was just recently impressed in person by the latter.

And I’ll leave you with one final snappy snap of Adam and Kate riding the tube. In this picture, Kate is being her usual organized self and counting how many stops it will be until we disembark and Adam is expectantly nodding to ask if we’ve had a good tour. Thanks, Adam. We certainly did.

(And for you nosy Parkers out there, we made sure to remunerate Adam with five pounds of cheese. Five pounds as in money, that is, because five actual pounds of cheese would probably kill Adam and thereby depriving us of free future lodging.)