still. time to pull on my tube socks,
sling on the backpack and head out the door.
we took a cab to paddington station as we were using the heathrow express this time instead of a private car. (we are so spoiled. private car. (no, we didn't hire it. we just tagged along. (thanks again, kev!))
i know that some of you are going to think that another cab was extravagant but, honey, even though leff and i pack light, i am NOT taking luggage on the tube if i can help it.
anyway, the heathrow express! take this to the airport! highly recommend! it's quick, clean, quiet! just, you know, if you order in advance, make sure to get the right ticket. we didn't. oops.
funny story though, we only had to pay half fare for the correct express tickets. (leff to me: "did that ticket guy just wink at you?!" me: "yes. *rapidly changing subject*")
security was quick at heathrow. (even though i was majorly out of it and unnecessarily walked through empty queue barriers 'cause i couldn't walk and take off my belt at the same time at this point. (it's a good skill to have. don't judge, emulate. it will make security screening faster for all of us.)
it's a good thing that security didn't take long as i was really in need of cough syrup. (and a sandwich for the plane.)
lemme tell you about this cough syrup from boots. it's very effective, oh my yes. it works well and it's inexpensive but it will try to kill you. i had to take a swig of it from the bottle at the cash register so it could be properly bagged (as i was heading through another possible security screening in iceland) and, god, i almost puked it back up.
the first hit was like ammonia which lingered in the background making the second vaguely herbal flavor taste rubbing alcoholish. this was then followed by an iodine kick right as the ammonia came back into itself. and, shiiiiit, did that taste linger.
i only managed to take it once more in icleand before admitting defeat and chucking it in a bin. blargh.
so heathrow. i hate concourse 1, i really do. it's not heathrow's fault, there's plenty to do there. it's just at this point i always start feeling like someone's ripped my heart out of my chest, stomped on it, rubbed it with rough grit sandpaper and then jammed it back in. ow.
cafe nerd coffee doesn't help either. (although, thanks for trying, leff!)
ok, look. i had planned on telling you about the flights back. about how we met a nice british university student who is going to be studying for a year in portland (poor thing!). how i only tell friendly ladies about the secret women's loo at keflavik. how leff drew a seated stick figure with pain marks around its butt on the barf bag and i added the phrase"butt hurt". how, at one point on the shuttle home, i horror whispered "why can't she piss at the airport like a fucking civilized person?!?! *COUGHcoughcough*" but no. it's making me too sad.
instead, i will talk about incidentals and trinkets and such and not how much i miss my brits.(GOD, i miss my brits!!)
look at me, i'm an icelandic pony, i'm so emo and mopey and unimpressed by volcanoes.
anyway, this. this is bare bones what it takes to survive in london.
thank you 800 MILLION TIMES OVER AND OVER to shed for the mobile. i think i'm the only person in the states with an orange blackberry. (so much fruit with that phone!!)
speaking of shed, not only did he shuttle us around wales, organize dinner and just, you know, manage to be incredibly awesome (no surprises there) he also got us OTLEY PINT GLASSES!!!!
legit! i didn't nick these! THANK YOU, SHED!
also, thanks for remembering that i LOOOOOOVE the xxx mints!
i will remain a tea geek for life in non hetero normative colors. heh.
let's see, what else? oh, i'll just bullet point some things for you.
- near caerphilly castle there's a store that i kept reading as "s'updogz". i'd look over the walls after doing a hadrian's wall pose and see "s'updogz". i have no idea what they sold.
- tower hill tube stop on the circle line has an elevator to the platform, right? riding in this elevator reminded me of that scene early in "raw meat/death line" and i felt like i was going to get cannibaled.
- i miss the british pronunciation of "twitter". "twit*ter" not "twidder". sigh...
- i am not talking enough about how much i love pret a manger. PRET!!! sandwiches! apple cider vinegar crisps! SO MANY SANDWICHES!! SO DELICIOUS!!
- my norman jacket is exceptionally haunted at this point and it still smells like airport.
i am making plans to get back to the uk as soon as possible this time through cardiff international instead of heathrow. because, who are we kidding? cymru am byth!!
programming note: regularly scheduled posts will resume on monday.