Spring Break, Part II

The day after Oxford, we went to the British Museum, which was seriously incredible. I was fascinated by the Rosetta Stone, which April and Amanda missed entirely because, I believe, they were too busy trying to "walk like an Egyptian."


Other highlights included:

St. Senan's bell (remember when I went to Jonathan's Christmas party after staying up for two days straight? Those two days had been spent writing about St. Senan. I can't remember a damn thing about his bell, though. Surprised?):

a Viking horde from Ireland:

a reliquary (prettier than most) with a thorn from Christ's crown of thorns (which made up for there having been no thorn in the "Church of the Thorn" in Pisa):

and quite a few decorative tiles, with which I was slightly familiar thanks to A History of Decorative Tiles in the upstairs bathroom at Aunt Nina's house in Rhode Island:

After the British Museum, we went to Trafalger Square and climbed some lions, although some people (coughcoughAndycoughAmandacough) were very afraid of the astonishing heights to which we ascended:


We ate at Pret a Manger, the most amazing restaurant that London has to offer poor college students, took pictures with Big Ben in the background:

Then we saw Westminster Abbey but didn't go inside because it was too expensive, walked across the River Thames singing "Don't Dream It's Over" and every Disney song we could think of. We walked back across a very high and narrow bridge, but Andy survived.

That night, we met Lara and Scott for Indian food, where the whiskey sours are strong and the pina coladas are weak. We went out looking for a bar afterwards, but couldn't find one that had dancing and no cover, until we walked past a place called "Element."

Amanda: "Is there a cover?"
Bouncer: "No. Have you ever been here before?"
Random Guy Who Walked Up Just Then: "I have."
Bouncer: "Okay."

So we all go inside, excited that that random guy probably just got us into some sort of member's only club, right? We go inside, and up the stairs, and realize that we are the only girls there. We've wandered into a gay bar. A big deal? Not for us, but it apparently was for them. We were ushered into a separate room, which was subsequently roped off from the rest of the bar. Just in case heterosexuality is contagious. We ordered a round of drinks, which were mostly absolutely incredible, and asked our waiter if he knew where we could find a place to dance. He thought about it, and said that he mostly just knew gay clubs, but there was this one place he had been. . .

Us: "Did you like it?"
Waiter: "No."
Us: "Did you like the music?"
Waiter: "No."
Us: "Oh."
Waiter: "Maybe if I was on drugs, I would like it. It was very 'boom boom boom.' All the people wore sunglasses."

Make sure to read the part of Waiter in a very heavy, very non-British accent. Instead of going to that club, which he didn't like, we went to the club he recommended, a club called G-A-Y. Are you sensing a theme to our evening? At G-A-Y, though, we weren't the only girls there, probably not the only straight people there, and they didn't quarantine us. We spend a small fortune in pounds, which are worth quite a lot, using the jukebox to choose music that we never heard, and some of us drank quite a bit. I was made aware this afternoon (by Amanda) of the fact that we were not the only (presumably) straight girls to grace the dance floor at G-A-Y last week: Hilary Duff At G-A-Y!

Scott carrying April to G-A-Y, because she was wearing Amanda's shoes

That was a fairly late night, and the next day we got up, got dressed (after each shower in London, I towelled off with a bed sheet, because I'd forgotten my towel), got lunch at Pret a Manger (again, in case I didn't mention all the other times we did), and went to Portobello Rd., which looks remarkably unlike it did in Bedknobs and Broomsticks. They say to go on a Saturday. I'd listen to "them," because Tuesday was a little lackluster. Portobello Rd, by the way, is in/near Notting Hill. Again, it didn't really resemble the movie. You can't believe anything you see on VHS.

Next came Harrods, where we got chased out of the wedding dress department because we weren't actually getting married, and then the Tate Museum of Modern Art, remarkable for the art I don't understand, and the giant slides. Slides I understand. I won't name names, but if I did, you'd notice a theme regarding who was too scared to give it a try. Suffice it to say, April and I went on the slides (and Andy went on the little one), and they were incredible.

April and I with the giant slides at the Tate

Following the Tate, we went got fish and chips for dinner (because you have to, at least once, right?) at a restaurant called Ye Olde London. The fish and chips were alright, but nothing to write home (e.g. blog) about (and yet I find myself doing so anyway). I ordered Strongbow (the drink), because I'd learned about Strongbow (the person) in Medieval Irish History.

At Ye Olde London

We walked home singing "Don't Dream it's Over" and all the Disney songs we could come up with (whenever we go from one place to another and I don't mention the in between, assume it's accompanied by "Don't Dream it's Over" and all the Disney songs we can remember), and decided to stay in and play Trivial Pursuit. After a strong start, April and I choked on questions with answers like "a circle." Andy and Amanda had taken the lead, when we got a little hungry and decided to go on a junk food run. Junk food bought, we headed home.

And then I saw Inga walking down the street towards me. For those of you who didn't go to high school with me. . . Inga did. Once again, I'll have to cue that Disney song I've used once before. . .

It's a small, small, world.

What the hell? Well, Inga is studying abroad in London this year. I forgot. She told us about a bar we should try, and said "It's open late, so you guys can go, if. . .[suspicious look at our convenience store bags]. . .you want to put your stuff down and go out." She totally knew that our bags were full of junk food, and that, though on Spring Break, we weren't going out that night but sitting in our hostel and eating junk food. I'm just glad we weren't singing "Part of Your World" when we ran into her.

When we got back to the hostel, though, we'd been inspired by our encounter with Inga, and decided that, in fact, we did want to go out! We went looking for the bar she'd described, but couldn't find it, so we went to another bar, where the dance music consisted of minute-long clips of songs ranging from the Macarena to "Build Me Up Buttercup." Our brief encounter saved us from wasting our last night in London getting a good night's sleep.

At some point, we also saw the London Bridge from afar, and I post this only because I think it's a pretty picture, and could be a postcard if not for that barge in the foreground.

Still to come: Amsterdam!