London Done
Dec. 6th, 2010 05:15 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
brightrosefoxSo.
Hm.
London.
Yeah.
I can't remember all the details, but I will do my best to record everything I recall. This will take a bit.
Thursday:
Charlotte drove us to Dulles International in the afternoon. Checking in was extremely quick. None of us got pat down or put through the new scanners. We walked onto the plane shortly before six-thirty. It was a huge jet, but it was cramped and crowded. I did my best to sleep. The in-flight meals were amazing, the attendants were incredibly sweet, and the flight was smooth. Nearly eight hours later, we landed at Heathrow and suddenly we were in the future: It was Friday morning.
Friday
Everything at the airport went smoothly. I was fatigued and sore and exhausted, so I don't remember much. I remember getting food. We got on the tube to Camden Town. We found the Holiday Inn. We found our room. I collapsed on one of the queen size beds. We all unpacked and settled in, and we decided to go exploring. My memory is honestly fuzzy at this point. I know we visited Trafalgar Square. I know we ate at a fantastic diner that served breakfast all day and I had incredible blueberry-smothered pancakes. I decided to not go on the Jack The Ripper tour; I was too tired. I stayed in the hotel room while the others went to the first New Model Army show in Kentish Town. I watched a bit of television, had a shower, and fell asleep. Adam, Beca, and James returned after midnight. James had a lie down, and Adam and Beca went to a nearby nightclub. They returned a couple of hours later. We all slept well.
Saturday:
We woke up early. I felt much, much better. We were in Camden Town. There was shopping to be done! We went to Camden Market.
Camden Market is... almost indescribable. It is long, and large, and sprawling, and powerful, and full of things. Food everywhere. Breakfast was varied. I had a strawberry chocolate crepe while Adam had fish and chips. Beca had a Mexican meal that smelled more like Indian food. James found a chicken stand. We wondered for what seemed like forever. I got a matcha latte at a fantastic coffee stand.
We walked for a bit, and then it was time for lunch. Beca recommended a little shop called King Of Falafel and that she'd had the best falafel she'd ever had there on Friday night. My falafel was my very first, and it was amazing. We then decided to shop for a bit. I'd seen a Boots and a Holland & Barrett. At Boots, I found a box of paracetamol plus codeine, and at Holland & Barrett, I found some Dr. Organics products, which I knew I wouldn't find in America. Face cleanser, shampoo, deodorant, lip balm. I found an acai juice and a goji juice made by a UK company. Bags of dried goji berries. It was lovely. I met the others at the World's End pub.
We decided to go back to Camden Market. Along the way, I found a street stand selling knockoff LeSportsac handbags. I bought a shoulder bag with rainbow zippers and a psychedelic pattern for ten pounds. In the Market itself, I bought a cup of Jamaican Blue Mountain coffee, while Beca tried a shot of civet coffee. Civet coffee is absolutely worth trying. Yes, the way it's made seems gross, but the results are unbelievable. I bought a Turkish wrap with spinach and cheese and yogurt sauce and it was one of the most delicious things I have ever eaten.
We went back to the hotel and got ready for that night's New Model Army show. We were going to sit up in the balcony benches, away from the main floor which would hold at least two thousand thrashing New Model Army fans. From what I understand New Model Army is very famous and popular in the UK, while in the US it doesn't even get radio play. So the fanbase in London would dwarf the fanbase from New York and DC together. We took the tube into Kentish Town and found a pub near the HMV Forum, where almost every single patron was wearing a New Model Army t-shirt. The band's drummer, Michael, was there chatting with fans. Adam, Beca, and James joked about asking Michael if he still had Mini Boing, which Adam had given to him after the Brooklyn show back in October. Mini Boing had been the stand-in for everyone who couldn't make the New York show. I piped up, "I'll do it!" They stared at me, impressed. I went right up to the man, who I'd never met before, quietly got his attention, and smiled brightly. "Hi!" I said. "At your last New York show, my husband gave you a little toy lemur on a keychain. Do you still have it?" Michael burst out laughing. "Yes, absolutely!" he said. "Great, great!" I said. "Just wanted to know!" I waved goodbye, and as I walked away I saw him grin widely and shake his head; those crazy Americans followed the band all the way to London after all. My friends were very amused that I had done that.
The line to get into the venue was already well around the corner by the time we got there. We took our seats at eight, and when Justin Sullivan came on stage, the roar from the crowds was intense. He launched directly into the set, sang three songs, chatted for a bit, and then the rest of the band came out and went full swing. When the band began playing "The Ballad Of Bodmin Pil," I cried, and Adam made sure to swing his video camera at me to catch my knowing smile. That song is a personal anthem and I always cry.
Two hours into the show, around ten, I began feeling strange. I told Adam I was going to step out for a bit. He asked me if I was okay. I said I didn't know. He nodded and kissed me. I sat just outside the balcony doors, on a comfy bench near the bar. The music could be easily heard and felt there. I just stayed there, breathing slowly and making sure I wouldn't have a seizure or flare. The lights and sounds were overwhelming and I'm glad I'd stepped out. Just after eleven, it ended. Adam found me and we went downstairs and met Beca and James outside. A man with a camera and microphone was going through the crowd, interviewing fans about the band's 30th anniversary tour. He came to us. So we will probably be in the DVD.
We hopped back on the tube toward Camden. Adam and I went back to the Holiday Inn, while James and Beca went to that local nightclub. Our flight out was at eleven-thirty Sunday morning, so Adam and I showered and went to bed quickly. James and Beca came back from the club, and we woke up at six-thirty.
Sunday:
The tube ride to Heathrow Terminal was long but comfortable. We got through checks and security easily. The plane was slightly roomier and I had an easier time. I wound up watching "Toy Story 3" and "Despicable Me" and I ate a Moroccan chicken dish followed up by a chocolate raspberry compote dessert. The landing was a little bumpy, and I was developing a migraine by the time we got into Dulles. By the time Adam got his checked duffel bag I was dragging severely. But everything went smoothly, and we were standing outside for only five minutes before Charlotte arrived.
When Adam and I got home, Luna jumped into Adam's arms and Rose jumped into mine.
I was on the verge of collapse, experiencing violent vertigo and fatigue. I couldn't walk straight. I couldn't sit up for more than a few minutes. I lay down on the bed and Rose climbed onto me, kneading and nuzzling and kissing and purring. I lay there for half an hour and tried to meditate.
Eventually, I managed to limp downstairs to scoop the litter boxes. I crawled back upstairs to stretch and have a shower, functioning on sheer force of will.
I actually didn't fall asleep until almost midnight. But I slept like the dead. I didn't even wake up to go to the bathroom.
Adam and I both woke up at ten on Monday. I got some caffeine, vitamins, and antioxidants in me. We ran errands, and my body finished adjusting. I made lunch: Chicken breasts smothered in olive oil and spices, baked on a cookie sheet at four hundred for twenty minutes. Garlic, turmeric, annatto, oregano. The best remedy dry dry chicken I've ever tried.
Adam is currently working on a couple of projects. Life is the way it always is, except now I have memories of London.
Hm.
London.
Yeah.
I can't remember all the details, but I will do my best to record everything I recall. This will take a bit.
Thursday:
Charlotte drove us to Dulles International in the afternoon. Checking in was extremely quick. None of us got pat down or put through the new scanners. We walked onto the plane shortly before six-thirty. It was a huge jet, but it was cramped and crowded. I did my best to sleep. The in-flight meals were amazing, the attendants were incredibly sweet, and the flight was smooth. Nearly eight hours later, we landed at Heathrow and suddenly we were in the future: It was Friday morning.
Friday
Everything at the airport went smoothly. I was fatigued and sore and exhausted, so I don't remember much. I remember getting food. We got on the tube to Camden Town. We found the Holiday Inn. We found our room. I collapsed on one of the queen size beds. We all unpacked and settled in, and we decided to go exploring. My memory is honestly fuzzy at this point. I know we visited Trafalgar Square. I know we ate at a fantastic diner that served breakfast all day and I had incredible blueberry-smothered pancakes. I decided to not go on the Jack The Ripper tour; I was too tired. I stayed in the hotel room while the others went to the first New Model Army show in Kentish Town. I watched a bit of television, had a shower, and fell asleep. Adam, Beca, and James returned after midnight. James had a lie down, and Adam and Beca went to a nearby nightclub. They returned a couple of hours later. We all slept well.
Saturday:
We woke up early. I felt much, much better. We were in Camden Town. There was shopping to be done! We went to Camden Market.
Camden Market is... almost indescribable. It is long, and large, and sprawling, and powerful, and full of things. Food everywhere. Breakfast was varied. I had a strawberry chocolate crepe while Adam had fish and chips. Beca had a Mexican meal that smelled more like Indian food. James found a chicken stand. We wondered for what seemed like forever. I got a matcha latte at a fantastic coffee stand.
We walked for a bit, and then it was time for lunch. Beca recommended a little shop called King Of Falafel and that she'd had the best falafel she'd ever had there on Friday night. My falafel was my very first, and it was amazing. We then decided to shop for a bit. I'd seen a Boots and a Holland & Barrett. At Boots, I found a box of paracetamol plus codeine, and at Holland & Barrett, I found some Dr. Organics products, which I knew I wouldn't find in America. Face cleanser, shampoo, deodorant, lip balm. I found an acai juice and a goji juice made by a UK company. Bags of dried goji berries. It was lovely. I met the others at the World's End pub.
We decided to go back to Camden Market. Along the way, I found a street stand selling knockoff LeSportsac handbags. I bought a shoulder bag with rainbow zippers and a psychedelic pattern for ten pounds. In the Market itself, I bought a cup of Jamaican Blue Mountain coffee, while Beca tried a shot of civet coffee. Civet coffee is absolutely worth trying. Yes, the way it's made seems gross, but the results are unbelievable. I bought a Turkish wrap with spinach and cheese and yogurt sauce and it was one of the most delicious things I have ever eaten.
We went back to the hotel and got ready for that night's New Model Army show. We were going to sit up in the balcony benches, away from the main floor which would hold at least two thousand thrashing New Model Army fans. From what I understand New Model Army is very famous and popular in the UK, while in the US it doesn't even get radio play. So the fanbase in London would dwarf the fanbase from New York and DC together. We took the tube into Kentish Town and found a pub near the HMV Forum, where almost every single patron was wearing a New Model Army t-shirt. The band's drummer, Michael, was there chatting with fans. Adam, Beca, and James joked about asking Michael if he still had Mini Boing, which Adam had given to him after the Brooklyn show back in October. Mini Boing had been the stand-in for everyone who couldn't make the New York show. I piped up, "I'll do it!" They stared at me, impressed. I went right up to the man, who I'd never met before, quietly got his attention, and smiled brightly. "Hi!" I said. "At your last New York show, my husband gave you a little toy lemur on a keychain. Do you still have it?" Michael burst out laughing. "Yes, absolutely!" he said. "Great, great!" I said. "Just wanted to know!" I waved goodbye, and as I walked away I saw him grin widely and shake his head; those crazy Americans followed the band all the way to London after all. My friends were very amused that I had done that.
The line to get into the venue was already well around the corner by the time we got there. We took our seats at eight, and when Justin Sullivan came on stage, the roar from the crowds was intense. He launched directly into the set, sang three songs, chatted for a bit, and then the rest of the band came out and went full swing. When the band began playing "The Ballad Of Bodmin Pil," I cried, and Adam made sure to swing his video camera at me to catch my knowing smile. That song is a personal anthem and I always cry.
Two hours into the show, around ten, I began feeling strange. I told Adam I was going to step out for a bit. He asked me if I was okay. I said I didn't know. He nodded and kissed me. I sat just outside the balcony doors, on a comfy bench near the bar. The music could be easily heard and felt there. I just stayed there, breathing slowly and making sure I wouldn't have a seizure or flare. The lights and sounds were overwhelming and I'm glad I'd stepped out. Just after eleven, it ended. Adam found me and we went downstairs and met Beca and James outside. A man with a camera and microphone was going through the crowd, interviewing fans about the band's 30th anniversary tour. He came to us. So we will probably be in the DVD.
We hopped back on the tube toward Camden. Adam and I went back to the Holiday Inn, while James and Beca went to that local nightclub. Our flight out was at eleven-thirty Sunday morning, so Adam and I showered and went to bed quickly. James and Beca came back from the club, and we woke up at six-thirty.
Sunday:
The tube ride to Heathrow Terminal was long but comfortable. We got through checks and security easily. The plane was slightly roomier and I had an easier time. I wound up watching "Toy Story 3" and "Despicable Me" and I ate a Moroccan chicken dish followed up by a chocolate raspberry compote dessert. The landing was a little bumpy, and I was developing a migraine by the time we got into Dulles. By the time Adam got his checked duffel bag I was dragging severely. But everything went smoothly, and we were standing outside for only five minutes before Charlotte arrived.
When Adam and I got home, Luna jumped into Adam's arms and Rose jumped into mine.
I was on the verge of collapse, experiencing violent vertigo and fatigue. I couldn't walk straight. I couldn't sit up for more than a few minutes. I lay down on the bed and Rose climbed onto me, kneading and nuzzling and kissing and purring. I lay there for half an hour and tried to meditate.
Eventually, I managed to limp downstairs to scoop the litter boxes. I crawled back upstairs to stretch and have a shower, functioning on sheer force of will.
I actually didn't fall asleep until almost midnight. But I slept like the dead. I didn't even wake up to go to the bathroom.
Adam and I both woke up at ten on Monday. I got some caffeine, vitamins, and antioxidants in me. We ran errands, and my body finished adjusting. I made lunch: Chicken breasts smothered in olive oil and spices, baked on a cookie sheet at four hundred for twenty minutes. Garlic, turmeric, annatto, oregano. The best remedy dry dry chicken I've ever tried.
Adam is currently working on a couple of projects. Life is the way it always is, except now I have memories of London.
