Day Two in London

Day four was payday, the long flight and lack of sleep all became worthwhile. I got up early and headed for the British Museum. On the way I stopped into a little cafe for the Full Monty (eggs, bacon, sausage, fried tomatoes, mushrooms, toast, baked beans and a pot of tea). A strange breakfast, but I guess it’s no worse than starting your day with 500 calories of deep-fried, freshly processed McDonald’s. Anyhow, it wasn’t about the food.

rosetta stone, london, england, british museum, museum, photography, photo

rosetta stone, photography, travel, british museum

The Museum was amazing, the highlights were the Parthenon sculptures and the Rosetta Stone. After seeing the later, I’m beginning to think alien life isn’t such a far-fetched fantasy. The intricacy of the lettering looks as if was inscribed with a laser. It is bizarre! The museum took up all of the morning and being that it gets dark around 4pm this time of year I had to hurry to get to Tower Bridge before sundown. It could have been that I was tired, but Tower Bridge didn’t live up to all the hype. Don’t get me wrong it is beautiful, but in London, beautiful architecture is everywhere.

tower bridge, london, england, travel, photography, blog, bridge

I was exhausted when i made it back to the hostel, but I hadn’t been to a pub since my arrival and I had to have a draw of ale. There was a little pub around the corner from the hostel called Queen’s Head, I couldn’t resist. Every place you go to in London seems formal. Most pubs are no exception. A guy living out of a backpack feels a bit apprehensive when dining with linens or having tea out of porcelain, but it’s unavoidable. The place was elegant. It was filled with intricate furniture upholstered in rich gaudy colors and the bartender wore a large black bow-tie. The bar showed it’s age, it had the nicks of a thousand pint glasses being slammed a bit too energetically by enthusiastic football fans and then being smoothed by time and touch. It was the ideal English pub. The only tap I recognized was Stella Artois, it being my absolute favorite beer I couldn’t resist. They even had the proper glass. I got to talking to a Canadian from the B.C., he had been on travels since June and was heading north to Scotland the next day. when I mentioned I was leaving for Paris the next day and I couldn’t get him to stop talking. I had to abandon the situation, but not before acquiring a souvenir. The real challenge will be getting my Stella chalice back to the U.S. in one piece.

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