London

I arrived yesterday morning in London, slightly jet lagged and longing for a coffee. As we walked out of the airport we were greeted by surprisingly perfect weather and a bright pink taxi waiting to take us to our hotel. Pink taxi, good start.

After a taxi ride that was equivalent in cost to my budget for a month in Thailand we found ourselves in the heart of London and set off for a tour of the Sunday markets with our personal tour guide Nick. Nick is a very tall friend of mine from college who now lives in London. He is the perfect tour guide becuase not only does he know his way around the “off the beaten path sights” (which is what I am after), but if you ever find yourself lost, you simply look straight up and see this man rising an extra 2 feet out of the endless sea of people.

The markets were full of so much energy and diversity. The items for sale were far less interesting than the people wandering around. We walked through maze after maze of stands selling everything from Etheopian coffee to things that apeared to come out of grandma’s closet. In many cases, you didn’t even need a stand to be a vendor. A simple sheet  layed out on the floor with some old crap you no longer wanted would do the job.

After hours of market wandering the sun began to fall in the sky and we made our way down to the river for the sunset and beers on the London bridge.

Thousands of tourists all attempted to capture the perfect picture of the bridge in the late day light, while I attempted to capture the perfect picture of the thousand tourists.

On our way to dinner, walking through a beautiful mideval tunnel along the South Bank, we came across what I thought was was the best thing I had seen all day. It was not Big Ben, or the bridge, or the London Tower. It was a very small piece of art that hundreds of people pass by every second without ever knowing it’s there. Stenciled on a perfect brick wall in black spray paint it says “All in all, you’re just another brick in the wall….”

We had a great Asian dinner at some place called Wakamama, which is really fun to say over and over and over again until you’re laughing too hard to get the words out. As I walked home along the Thames which was now beautifully reflecting the city lights my mind was stuck on one thought: all I have to do for the next three months is wander around and take it all in. It felt so good. I think I could do this forever…..