Hi. Recently I went on a rather interesting trip to London on the 15th with a friend and some classmates, I have not been in a while and not without my parents, and this was an interesting trip anyway.
I set off, equipped with the usual stuff (phone, keys, wallet, clothes, etc…) a packed lunch (the first one I’ve had in years), a mostly used up pad of paper (which I didn’t find a use for) and my copy of “Friends Like These” by Danny Wallace (at the time of writing I am about half way though and it is very good, also, I should start reading more, I missed out on his book “Yes Man” which I promised myself on this very blog that I would read ages ago). I headed off to my friend’s house and went to knock on the door. Half way through this action the door was opened and I was told that he was getting his iPod and would be down shortly, leaving my fist hanging in the air, ready to knock.
We then set off on our journey, walking across the road to the bus stop, we waited and waited, thinking the bus was late, naturally assuming the driver had started dancing to Rick Astley’s “Never Gonna Give you up” further up the route. It turns out our logical deduction was wrong and we were actually about 30 minutes early for the bus to arrive. When it did finally arrive on time, I dropped the bus fare I had been holding perfectly well for the last 40 minutes and obviously had to pick it up, no big deal. We made it to the train station without any more hassle, with no sign of the talking old bus guy (basically an old guy we sometimes see on the bus who talks to people about random stuff, pretty much what I’m doing now, except not on a bus, that guy should probably have his own blog or something, it would be updated more than this one).
The train journey went well, I read my book, my mate and I repeatedly quoted the IT crowd whenever we were “nearly at the station” (yes, we are very mature) and we laughed at the train driver and his announcements about the buffet cart, sounding like he was licking his lips and was about to tuck into whatever food he was talking about, we got a free half a bag of haribo as someone couldn’t be bothered to finish them (not a random stranger, I’m not an idiot).
We arrived in London, I stepped out of the train in wonder at the St Pancras station, a more amazing thing than any building in Nottingham, I was interested in the station as I had watched a documentary about it being built and it was probably the first time I had gone to personally visit something which the television had introduced me to, which made it all the more fascinating. As we were leaving I made a comment about the lack of bins being “probably to stop terrorists” a little too loudly and was told off by my friend for it. It was around this point that I probably first stepped on the back of his shoe, totally by accident, but they were already torn and I just made them worse as his better shoes were stolen by a friend who is currently away in South America somewhere digging holes to use as toilets… probably. I ended up stepping on the back of his shoe at least 5 times over that day, either by accident, or my shoe really doesn’t like his converse, or maybe my shoes liked his converse a little too much…. and by the end of the day his right shoe looked like a converse flip-flop.
The first destination was the Natural History Museum, which I have been to as a child but have no proper memories about it. I was pretty cool, I looked at the creatures and animals shown in the museum in a different way than I would have normally, as I have tried to do for other things, such as architecture and landscapes, I tried to view it from an alien perspective. I really think it helps as I think many things such as the natural and man-made beauty of our planet is often overlooked and taken for granted, I was inspired, strangely, by the Doctor Who Christmas special, Voyage of the Damned, and how the character of Astrid reacted to seeing Earth shops as an alien thing, like you might an alien market place in a movie shown from a human perspective, I try to think of things like that more, and it helps me enjoy an appreciate them more. I noticed how truly different and a amazing the creatures of the planet used to be, and how they are now, still amazing, but in a different way. It also made me realise how truly alien and actual alien race would be, in fiction we usually class them into our own different types, insects, reptiles, mammals, and so on, because they are so different to us, but all that diversity has all being made on one single planet, it is almost impossible to imagine how immensely diverse and different life would be on another planet, it’s mind boggling.
Anyway, more important than this insightful discovery, was the discovery of the perfect smell! In the museum we found a cafe, which was baking something, probably a cake, and the smell wafting from it was simply amazing, it made us hungry, yet also satisfied us, it is difficult to describe, and we ended up spending about 5 minutes just standing smelling it.
After the museum, we moved on to the Tate modern art gallery, nowhere near as astounding as the museum, but reasonably enjoyable nether the less, my buddies shoe flapping away as we walked, his soul (sole) almost torn away from him.
After this we headed to the underground near Saint Paul’s cathedral near which a man shouted out in the middle of the street “would anyone like some of my mother’s fruitcake?”, no one replied and and he just shrugged and began eating. I however misheard him initially and thought he said “would anyone like some homeless fruitcake?”, not that I would want any either way.
We spent the rest of the day looking for new shoes for my friend, and failed, we then had dinner at a nice restaurant called “Giraffe” and I ate a burger with a knife and fork for the first time in recent memory. My friend claimed his meal was the best thing he has eaten in a long time, so I guess that we will be going to restaurants more often in the future.
We then left and got the train back home, with the same driver again, providing us with a few chuckles on the way home.
