top - a.n.a./JCP
high-waist jeans - Mossimo/Target
scarf - PayHalf
booties - Shoedazzle
Day 2 in London!
I was still adjusting to the time difference (I was hopeful that it wouldn't affect me, but boy, was I wrong) so I didn't do much. It was a Wednesday and I had a concert to attend in Camden Town, which was about an hour's bus ride away. (The tube strike started the evening before and continued for the rest of the week, so I used the bus system a lot.) I got ready and decided I would leave early for Camden Town, in case I got lost or the bus took longer than Google Maps let on, and just explore the area/get some food, etc. First, I stopped off at Starbucks to get caffeinated. I sat my coffee down to use my phone for a moment when a man invited me to sit with him. I politely refused, as I was leaving, but he insisted, so I sat for a moment. He was from Dubai and told me about how much he spent to go to the Doctor (something like £2K) just to get a check-up (shit, I thought US healthcare was expensive) and how he went to the casino and lost all this money but it's OK 'cause if you're not happy what's the point of having money. I agree with the sentiment, but gambling bores me, so it doesn't seem like a good use of money. (Shoe shopping would be more productive.) He insisted that he buy me a sweet treat because "you're sweet", so I had a little caramel-chocolate-shortbread-thing. It was yummy. He wanted me to spend time with him, but I had to go and I'm not interested in fending off your advances for an entire evening. Thanks for the treat, though. ;-)
I take the 27 to Camden Town (without getting lost, because I am awesome and so is Google Maps - shout out!), locate the venue...
...And start looking for a place to eat.
I saw a restaurant called Tennesseeland and took a pic for my BF, 'cause he grew up in TN, but my cell phone takes shit pics of lights, and the sign is all lights. I see a Mexican restaurant and out of curiosity, check out their menu outside. Cheese = Monterey Jack. NOPE! Hey Brits, do you have Chihuahua cheese? Mexican food ain't shit without it. I end up in a pub and pull an "American Tourist" move. (In other words, ignorance that comes off as rudeness - something I didn't want to do while there, or anywhere for that matter.) I ask the bartender if I can order some food. He tells me to find a table, then come back and order. I said, "Can I just order with you and then find a table?" because I was worried about holding a table without putting anything down because I am by myself and I am thinking I will just wait at the bar for my food to come out. He explained why that's not going to work, something about him not being the one that will be bringing out the food. IDK, it was confusing. Apparently this is how it's done here. Lesson learned. I order a burger and ask that it be done medium rare but am told that it can only be cooked well done. Fine. The burger is dry and gross, as to be expected when you COOK THE EVER LIVING FUCK OUT OF IT. (Sorry, I'm deeply offended by well done beef.) My one experience with cooked-to-order burgers at Byron is NOT the norm. Anyway, I suck down my cider, and head out across thestreet road to the concert.
It just so happened that Blackfield was playing during the time I was planning my trip. I am SO GLAD I decided to buy a ticket. I had never seen Blackfield. The one time I had tickets, the concert got canceled due to the death of Steven Wilson's father. Also, Steven Wilson is leaving the group (duo?) and this was his last tour. And it was only in Europe. So, yeah, perfect. (Um... if I haven't mentioned before, I love Steven Wilson. He's my favorite artist. Ever. It's my belief that anything in which he is involved is brilliant.)
I strike up a conversation (about Steven Wilson/Porcupine Tree, etc.) with some dude and we end up hanging during the whole show. I buy a CD from one of the openers - Dave McPherson and get his signature on it, as well.
I learned the day prior that Brits don't tip and I was going along with it, but then I decided, fuck it, I'm going to be myself and myself is a gal who tips a buck a round. I tried to go for £1 per round but the bartenders aren't used to accounting for tips, so they don't purposely give you the right change to tip, like they do in America. Either way, the bartender was thrilled.
The show was brilliant, as expected, EXCEPT for the part where they DIDN'T play Epidemic. I had asked for it via Facebook days earlier.
My buddy, Tony, says goodbye and I go up the stage to try to score a set list. No such luck. Some Swedish dude gets it. I tried the "I traveled the farthest, I deserve it!" play, but he's not buying it. I'm tipsy and in the mood to continue the party so I start asking the group of people if they want to after-party with me. They agree. It's me, the American, the Swedish dude, the guy who just moved to London from some other part of the UK, the girl from Germany, 2 Pakistan men that I believe lived in London, but were new implants, and a Polish gal. It's like the United Colors of Benetton up in this bitch. We go across the road to the pub where I ate, and have a drink or so. The pub closes at 11. WHY SO EARLY?! I'm already starting to miss Chicago and then I feel like a spoiled brat. We attempt to find another bar/pub/club but find nothing. I have to pee and no one will let me use their bathroom. I finally just walk into a Hotel like I own it and use their toilet. We all find ourselves in a Subway. I order a sandwich and find out oil, vinegar & spices are only options in the US. Weird. I take the #27 bus home and crash. Day 2 over.
Day 2 observations:
Everything is expensive in London! Except for drinks. My latte at Starbucks was £3, which is $4.98, which is actually cheaper than in the states.
No oil, vinegar & spices at Subway, but they do have corn, if you want that on your sammich...
Most streets aren't labeled and when they are, the sign is on a building. Also, apparently the word "street" is foreign. I asked a man what street I was on, and he looked at me like I was speaking Chinese before he said, "Oh! This is blah blah blah ROAD!" Really, dude? You really didn't know what I was talking about?
Soy milk is called "soya". I had purchased some earlier, but thought it was just a brand name, like Silk.
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| Here it is! |
I saw a restaurant called Tennesseeland and took a pic for my BF, 'cause he grew up in TN, but my cell phone takes shit pics of lights, and the sign is all lights. I see a Mexican restaurant and out of curiosity, check out their menu outside. Cheese = Monterey Jack. NOPE! Hey Brits, do you have Chihuahua cheese? Mexican food ain't shit without it. I end up in a pub and pull an "American Tourist" move. (In other words, ignorance that comes off as rudeness - something I didn't want to do while there, or anywhere for that matter.) I ask the bartender if I can order some food. He tells me to find a table, then come back and order. I said, "Can I just order with you and then find a table?" because I was worried about holding a table without putting anything down because I am by myself and I am thinking I will just wait at the bar for my food to come out. He explained why that's not going to work, something about him not being the one that will be bringing out the food. IDK, it was confusing. Apparently this is how it's done here. Lesson learned. I order a burger and ask that it be done medium rare but am told that it can only be cooked well done. Fine. The burger is dry and gross, as to be expected when you COOK THE EVER LIVING FUCK OUT OF IT. (Sorry, I'm deeply offended by well done beef.) My one experience with cooked-to-order burgers at Byron is NOT the norm. Anyway, I suck down my cider, and head out across the
It just so happened that Blackfield was playing during the time I was planning my trip. I am SO GLAD I decided to buy a ticket. I had never seen Blackfield. The one time I had tickets, the concert got canceled due to the death of Steven Wilson's father. Also, Steven Wilson is leaving the group (duo?) and this was his last tour. And it was only in Europe. So, yeah, perfect. (Um... if I haven't mentioned before, I love Steven Wilson. He's my favorite artist. Ever. It's my belief that anything in which he is involved is brilliant.)
I learned the day prior that Brits don't tip and I was going along with it, but then I decided, fuck it, I'm going to be myself and myself is a gal who tips a buck a round. I tried to go for £1 per round but the bartenders aren't used to accounting for tips, so they don't purposely give you the right change to tip, like they do in America. Either way, the bartender was thrilled.
My buddy, Tony, says goodbye and I go up the stage to try to score a set list. No such luck. Some Swedish dude gets it. I tried the "I traveled the farthest, I deserve it!" play, but he's not buying it. I'm tipsy and in the mood to continue the party so I start asking the group of people if they want to after-party with me. They agree. It's me, the American, the Swedish dude, the guy who just moved to London from some other part of the UK, the girl from Germany, 2 Pakistan men that I believe lived in London, but were new implants, and a Polish gal. It's like the United Colors of Benetton up in this bitch. We go across the road to the pub where I ate, and have a drink or so. The pub closes at 11. WHY SO EARLY?! I'm already starting to miss Chicago and then I feel like a spoiled brat. We attempt to find another bar/pub/club but find nothing. I have to pee and no one will let me use their bathroom. I finally just walk into a Hotel like I own it and use their toilet. We all find ourselves in a Subway. I order a sandwich and find out oil, vinegar & spices are only options in the US. Weird. I take the #27 bus home and crash. Day 2 over.
Day 2 observations:
Everything is expensive in London! Except for drinks. My latte at Starbucks was £3, which is $4.98, which is actually cheaper than in the states.
No oil, vinegar & spices at Subway, but they do have corn, if you want that on your sammich...
Most streets aren't labeled and when they are, the sign is on a building. Also, apparently the word "street" is foreign. I asked a man what street I was on, and he looked at me like I was speaking Chinese before he said, "Oh! This is blah blah blah ROAD!" Really, dude? You really didn't know what I was talking about?
Soy milk is called "soya". I had purchased some earlier, but thought it was just a brand name, like Silk.
