As you can see, I managed to grab some computer time today, but I've decided not to upload any pictures till I get back from Dublin on Monday, so I can just do one mass upload at that time. So those of you who are eagerly awaiting pictures, you'll have to wait a couple more days, but then (hopefully) you'll be amply rewarded.

I still have a cold, but I no longer feel like crap (now I just sound like crap, because my voice is gone). Sleeping for 14 hours, partly induced by cold medicine, makes you feel better than almost anything else, or at least it does for me.

The cat hunt continues, but remains unsuccessful.

Next post, from Dublin!

Speed-blogging again today, because I feel like complete crap (I've decided that our flat is essentially a petri dish), and I just want to put down a couple of essential points before I go collapse into bed. First of all, I've got the pictures developed and most of them look good, but I'm not going to be able to put them up today. I also may not be able to get to the internet cafe tomorrow before it closes, in which case my next post will be either from Dublin this weekend or not till sometime on Monday. So if you check this religiously and don't see anything from me till Monday, I'm not dead.

I also wanted to announce my mission for the rest of the semester, which is to go on a cat hunt (Josh, if you read this, it's not what you're thinking.) I've mentioned recently that it seems like nobody in this city owns a cat, so from now on I'm going to keep my eyes open and hunt for evidence of cats. So far, the closest thing I've found is a half-nibbled pot of catgrass in somebody's window.

I should probably spend less time on this and more time on my law school applications, but I'm currently waiting for the Guelph prelaw advisor to write me back about a couple of essential points before I do much more. Besides, with the way I feel right now, my plan for the evening is to call Ian while I still have some voice left, get looped on Nyquil-equivalent, and read some more of A Short History Of Nearly Everything before hopefully falling asleep. I have to rest up for Dublin this weekend!

I'm heading to Boots to get those pictures from last week developed, so they should be up very soon. No V&A today as it turns out... everyone in my house is sick with a rotten cold, and I woke up with it this morning, so I decided to sleep in. (The art class was going to the V&A today, so I was going to tag along, but that would have required getting up at 9. It would have been worth it if I didn't feel like crap.)

I remember the other observation about London that I was going to make yesterday. London has often been described as a collection of villages, and I have to say that from my limited experience, I feel like that's very true. Different parts of the city have a very different feel to them, and the old tradition of shopping districts is still very much in evidence. When I went to a shop on Tottenham Court Road to buy my new camera, I came out of the Tube station intending to head straight there. Instead, I found myself stopping into a camera/electronics shop every couple of doors to compare prices... apparently TCR's the modern centre of electronics shopping. In the same way, Portobello Road Market and Camden Market are very different. Portobello's the centre for antiques and overpriced souvenirs, whereas if you want hippie clothes, goth clothes, body piercings, or illegal drug paraphernalia, you go to Camden. (In my humble opinion, Camden beats the hell out of Portobello, although I must admit I didn't see any panties with David Beckham's face on them at Camden.) Those of you who've visited London or will be visiting, I'd be interested to hear whether you agree (about the villages, that is, not the markets).

It's been a productive but expensive afternoon. I've finalized plans for my trip during our week off, so from Oct. 23-27 I'll be in Paris, then to Venice via Milan until the 1st of November. I actually got a damn good deal on the whole trip (it was about £250 less than I thought it would be), but still, I think it's the most money I've ever spent in one go apart from my surgery. It's a little nerve-racking to just slap down a credit card for something of that amount, but I've attempted to soothe my usual qualms about spending money for this trip by telling myself that it doesn't matter if I come home bankrupt as long as all the essentials (i.e., rent) are paid for. After all, how many times in my life am I going to get to do this?

Some further observations about London:

The spirit of petty crime is alive and well. I've been lucky, and so have my friends and housemates, but I've seen signs in lots of different places to beware of pickpockets and petty thieves. Not to mention, I was out dancing with friends on Thursday night (holy crap, are there ever a lot of skeevy ugly guys in this city who think I'm beautiful), and one of said skeevy ugly guys came up behind me and put his hands on my waist to dance with me. I thought it was one of our housemates at first (that'll teach me not to look), and I didn't mind until a hand started sliding into the pocket where I had my money and tube pass. That's not cool. I turned around and yelled at him, and I think I scared him more than he scared me. I still haven't figured out whether he was just trying to be sexy or genuinely after my money, but either way, ewwww.

I have seen surprisingly few pets in this city. I don't know if that's just because I haven't been in people's homes or what, but I haven't seen nearly as many people walking dogs as I do in Guelph, and the only cat I've seen in three weeks has been the one at Westminster Abbey. (Yes, I know, people don't generally walk their cats outside, but usually you see them sitting in windows.) At the same time, though, there are tons of animal protective leagues and shelters in addition to the RSPCA, the biggie. (Did you know that the Society for the Protection of Children, or whatever the official name is here, formed something like a hundred years after the RSPCA, and as an offshoot of it?) It's a strange contradiction, at least to me.

I had another observation, but I'm a bit braindead today (didn't sleep well last night, bloody buses outside my window), and I've forgotten it. I should really start writing these down.

Due to my class schedule, I always have Tuesdays free, so that's when I've been doing most of my touristy things. I'm not sure yet what the plan for tomorrow is, but it may involve the V & A Museum. I'll let you know.

Technical difficulties resolved... the first London photos, including a couple of our neighbourhood, are up!

By popular demand (hey Tony! You're popular demand!), I will tell you a little bit about my camera. It's a Nikon Coolpix 4200, and it is really, really nice. My Buckingham Palace pictures turned out pretty well, and I'm looking forward to doing some more experimenting with it. Also, I will not be uploading today due to technical difficulties, but the friendly Internet cafe guy (who used to live in our flat, by the way) has informed me that this cafe is actually a wireless access point! Not free, unfortunately, but not much is in this city. So with any luck and without further technical difficulties, I'm going to be able to upload stuff more often and have more access to all my usual sites. Yay!

No further travel news. It's been a nice quiet weekend, and I actually have managed to make some progress on the application front. I don't want to jinx anything, but I may have figured out a way to approach the personal statement thing. I have to check with the prelaw advisor (yes, there is one) at Guelph, though, to make sure it's OK.

So basically, things are coming together.

First things first. I got a new camera! It's very nice, if a bit more complicated than my last one, so there will be uploads very soon, possibly tomorrow. I went to Buckingham Palace with the girls today, and unfortunately you're not allowed to take pictures inside, but I got some decent shots of the outside and the gardens. I also want to take a couple of pics of our neighbourhood and my housemates so you all can see where I'm living and who I'm living with. It's just so nice to be photo-enabled again!

Still no progress on the personal statement front, and that's starting to bug me (well, in the interests of accuracy, it's been bugging me for a while, but it's really bugging me now). The non-personal parts of the law school applications are easy-peasy, and mostly done, but again, how do you encapsulate yourself, your career ambitions, and your philosophy of life in two pages without either sounding completely boring or too weird for law school? I have to strike the perfect balance of quirkiness ("This girl will definitely enrich our student body!") and stability ("This girl won't drop out before Thanksgiving with a nervous breakdown!"). In short, aaargh.

Buckingham Palace, as you all might guess, is really lovely, although if I woke up as the Queen tomorrow I'd preserve the most historic bits and redecorate the hell out of the rest. Regal opulence is just not my style, to say the least. However, it was very cool to do something most people don't get to do (since the palace is only open to the public eight weeks out of the year, and tomorrow's the last day for this year), and I've always loved the idea of living in a home where you have tangible evidence of your forebears (skeletons in the closet not included). The Queen's a lucky lady.

I think it's going to continue to be a quiet weekend. I have some travel plans to make, some homework to do, and those law school applications to work on. Then, of course, next weekend is the Dublin trip! I'm looking forward to a pint of real Guinness.

I'm speed-blogging today, since I have a concert (the London Philharmonia) to attend for music class tonight, and food must be eaten and clothes must be changed before I go. So, on that note:

Ian brings up an excellent point in the chatterbox, which, for posterity, is that different religious buildings have different architectural mandates, so to speak. This is true. However, it is my personal opinion that a good religious building, whatever the religion, should somehow reinforce or support that religion's beliefs in some way. Just for example, mosques have a niche (the mihrab) that indicates the direction of Mecca. The mihrab is often ornately decorated, so that it's the first thing your eye is drawn to, and if you're a devout Muslim, it shows you which way to face during prayer. Maybe not a good example, but as I said, I'm speed-blogging.

I'm going to Dublin next weekend, as I mentioned before, and I just booked tickets to Amsterdam for the weekend after that. The weekend after that is when Ian arrives for his visit, and the weekend after that is when I'm (hopefully; nothing is booked yet) leaving for Paris and perhaps Venice. The semester is rapidly disappearing in terms of travel opportunities, and I haven't even finished my law school applications yet! If I post on Monday that I still haven't, someone yell at me.

I still owe the blog-readers a post on the rest of my Tuesday trip, including the river cruise and what little I saw of Greenwich. That's coming soon, never fear. For now, I just have to get my homework and applications together before I take off for parts unknown.

I went out to price some digital cameras today, so I should be getting a new one within the next week or so. I'm itching to take some pictures!

Yesterday's visit to Westminster Abbey was really interesting, mainly because a) I love history (especially British history) and so I recognized more names than your average tourist would, and b) because I have a thing for cathedrals and I've been to a couple for comparison purposes. The main thing I noticed when I first walked in is that your eye isn't immediately drawn upward as it is in most Gothic cathedrals, because there is just so much to look at on eye level. The whole cathedral is just absolutely crowded with tombs, monuments, statues, plaques, and every kind of memorial you could possibly think of. It's a huge building, but with so many monuments crammed in, it actually feels quite cramped.

The second thing I noticed is that it doesn't feel like a church. In the other cathedrals I've visited (Toledo and Sevilla, both in Spain), the architecture creates a sense of vertical space so that your first impulse is to look up, towards the heavens. Most cathedrals (and all good religious buildings, in my opinion) give you this overwhelming feeling of human insignificance and the glory of God. Westminster Abbey is certainly glorious, but my impression was of a museum celebrating the glory of man, not of a church celebrating the glory of God. The Gothic architecture is there, but as I said, your eye isn't drawn to it in the same way that it is in other places (even in Our Lady in Guelph, which you should visit if you have no clue what I'm talking about). Westminster Abbey definitely feels more like a museum of history, not a living church. We're all required to attend a service there as part of our Music in London class, so maybe my opinion will change after seeing an actual religious service held there.

The third thing that surprised me is that although it feels like a museum, Westminster Abbey is still very much a living community. There's a boarding school on the grounds for the choirboys, and the monks' cells in the cloisters have been transformed into offices and apartments for the clergy and staff. The apartments face onto a small garden and have a larger one in back, and there's a low wall separating the private space from the public. There's a friendly orange and white cat that clearly lives in one of the apartments, but considers the cloister gardens his as well, and he's obviously used to tourists. Even with the tourists, it's a part of the Abbey that feels private and peaceful, and it would be a wonderful place to live. I thought my 1841 apartment building was historic, but how many places in the world can you live in a building that dates back to 12-something?

Some of the above sounds like I'm criticizing the Abbey or that I didn't like my visit. It was a wonderful place to spend the afternoon and I haven't even written about some of the most impressive things (mainly because what's impressive to medieval history buffs is boring as hell to everyone else). There were some things about my visit that surprised me, but in a good way. So, if you have the means and the opportunity, I highly recommend a visit. It's pretty cool.

Crap. I was in the middle of writing a whole long post about my grand day out today, and the computer burped and it's gone. In a nutshell, I went to Westminster Abbey and took a river cruise from Westminster to Greenwich (but unfortunately, arrived too late to get into any museums or anything, but I saw enough to make me want to go back soon). I was already planning to think about the Abbey before I wrote much about it, so that plan hasn't changed, and you can expect a nice long post about Westminster and the river one of these days when I haven't been doing much to blog about.

I took a lot of pictures today, and one thing that is absolutely driving me nuts is that I can't see how the picture looks before I can decide what to do with it. With my digital camera, I could shoot a picture and immediately delete it if it was unsatisfactory, so there wasn't any of this getting pictures developed and realizing your thumb's in all of them. Fortunately, my wonderful grandpa has offered to buy me a new digital camera! Yay! Good pictures soon, and today's pictures whenever I can get to Boots to get them developed.

All the housemates are out at a play tonight (drama class, I'm not taking it so I'm not invited, sniff), so I'll be having a nice quiet night to make travel plans, think about what I saw today, and get working on my personal statement for law school applications. That's bothering me, because really, how do you encapsulate yourself in two pages? Obviously, since I'm applying to schools with a major international focus, I'm going to write about my travel experiences, but it's not easy to do that without sounding banal. I wish I could just send them my blog.

The hairbrush has reappeared (behind my bed), so maybe I don't have poltergeists after all. I am also camera-enabled once again, since Boots had a special on, three disposable cameras for the price of two. Hopefully there will be pictures soon!

I have another free day tomorrow, so I'm going to drag my butt out of bed early and go visit Westminster (and finally do that river cruise to Greenwich, weather cooperating). This afternoon I braved the crowds to shop on Oxford Street, but I still haven't made the pilgrimage to Harrods. Oh well... I have to keep reminding myself that I've only been here for two weeks today, and I have a lot more time to see the touristy things. My favourite parts of London so far have been the non-traditional touristy things; Trafalgar Square may be a popular tourist sight, but after dark it turns into the world's best free bar, and the banks of the Thames are wonderful places to park on a bench and watch the world pass. (They also make a fabulous viewing platform for fireworks launched from a riverboat, as I learned last night.)

Dublin in less than two weeks. I'm excited, and surprisingly, not a bit nervous about going on my own. One thing I've learned since being in London is that I really am completely comfortable in my own company, and for seeing the sights, I actually prefer it. I love my housemates, and they're a lot of fun to go out with, but when I'm at a museum or the like, I want to go at my own pace and see what I want to see without worrying about leaving someone behind.

We'll see how I feel about that when I start traveling to non-English-speaking countries, though.

Not much to report, other than that the girly weekend has been quite a lot of fun. Last night we all got drunk and spent a couple of hours cutting pictures of cute shirtless men out of Cosmo and the like so that we can tape them all up on the bathroom wall to piss off the boys when they come home. Yes, we are mature women.

This weekend's been notable for Open House London, which we were supposed to attend as part of our Urban Geography class, but the lines for all the cool things were miles long (some literally), so instead the Thames Festival was attended. We're going back later tonight to see the fireworks, and then tomorrow it's back to the daily grind.

Yesterday I went with the girls to Portobello Road Market, which was literally wall-to-wall people (by the end of it I seriously wanted to start elbowing strangers... I'm not good with crowds). I saw a lot of stuff I would have liked to buy if I'd had any money on me, but since I only had five pounds, I bought an antique print of two cats. It's very nice and will be framed when I get it home.

Really, nothing out of the ordinary's been happening, other than that things keep disappearing from my room (this time it's my hairbrush). Since no thief in their right mind would take someone's used hairbrush, I'm chalking it up to poltergeists.

I was going to write all about going to a Soho gay bar last night, except I never actually got there. What happened was that Emma, Julie, Kirsti, and I decided to go over to see our friends at International Students House (we're having a girly weekend, since the boys are all in Amsterdam smoking themselves stupid), and head to the gay bars from there. So we got all dolled up including the sky-high heels that I'd unearthed in the back of my closet when packing and wondered "Why don't I ever wear these? These are adorable!" During the five-minute walk from our flat to the tube station, I began to realize just why it is I never wear those shoes when I'm going to be doing more walking than to my car and back. In retrospect, I really should have gone back to change, but a lot of London clubs have really strict dress codes, and I was worried that my comfy walking shoes wouldn't pass the bouncer. Stupid, I know, but I was in a rare party mood.

Anyway, we managed to make it to ISH after getting lost for a bit (it turns out that none of us actually knew how to get there), and at some point in the half-mile walk I gave up and took my shoes off. I must note here that the pavements of Marylebone are quite foot-friendly, being made of nice smooth slate or some similar stone. Upon arrival at ISH, we drank a brew or two with our buddy Myles, went into the boys' bathroom because Myles didn't know where the girls' was (and met a cute Aussie boy in there to boot), and headed off for Soho.

Now, here's where I give some advice to those of you who ever might be going to a gay bar in Soho. First of all, wear shoes you can walk a few miles in (this goes for trips to London in general, really), second of all, if you're trying to get there before 11 PM for the cheap cover, leave before 10:30, and third of all, find out where the hell your chosen bar is before you leave. As you can guess, all of these important rules were broken last night, and we found ourselves wandering around Soho aimlessly asking every remotely gay-looking person if they knew where this particular club was. No luck. Finally, Emma rounded a corner and got mobbed by cute dykes who gave us free passes to the club we were looking for, with a little map to the club on the back! Score! By this point in the walk, I'd taken off my shoes again, and even gone into Tesco Metro to see if they had any cheapo flip-flops for sale (no luck). I figure it was another half-mile or so from where we were to where the club was, and when I tripped on a stone and wrenched my knee a quarter-mile or so into it, I decided I'd had enough and headed for home.

I assured the gang that I'd be just fine, and caught the bus to Trafalgar Square. Unfortunately, during that short ride, I had a strange conversation with a creepy guy (sample - Guy: Would you like me to show you where the other bus stop is? Me: No, I'll stay here. Guy: That sounded suspicious, didn't it? Me: Yes. Yes, it did.) and realized that I didn't have my keys with me and that nobody was likely to be home. Eek. Fortunately, I managed to lose the creepy guy and get on the bus for home with no problem, and during that ride, I remembered that although none of the Guelph group was home, the Aussie couple living upstairs would be. So in the end, I got home, Steve and Isabella let me in, and I had a peaceful evening resting my poor abused feet (which are just fine this morning, by the way). Next time I decide to go to the gay bar, I'm wearing comfortable shoes, and to hell with what the gay fashionistas think.

Some observations about London:

There are security cameras everywhere, including one right outside my bedroom window (fortunately not facing into it). It's a little unnerving to think that I'm literally being watched everywhere I go.

I think this is related, but there are almost no public trash receptacles. I know this is because the IRA used to put bombs in them back in the 80s, but it's annoying.

There are almost no fat people. I've seen a few fat guys, but the biggest woman I've seen is about my size (which, if you're not a regular reader of this blog, is not very big). Again, I think this is related, the snack section of grocery stores is a lot smaller than those in North America. It's really hitting home how different most of the world is when it comes to food and fatness.

There are weird potato chip flavours, like roasted lamb with mint sauce (no, I haven't tried these) and spicy chutney (surprisingly good).

Everyone, and I mean everyone, has a cell phone, called mobiles over here. Cell phone etiquette seems to be surprisingly restrained, however. I haven't heard anyone talking loudly or inappropriately in a public place.

People have no qualms about saying interesting things or arguing on public transit, though. Last night on the bus, I heard a woman get very pissed off at a man for something he'd done (I never figured out what) and proclaim very loudly "Don't touch me. That's harassment, what you just did to me! H-A-R-R-A-S-S-M-A-N-T." It seems she's had a good grounding in feminism, but maybe not so good in spelling.

Other than these latest observations, not too much has been going on. I went to the Canadian bar in Covent Garden last night to see a bit of the World Cup final (Canada won!), and it was a lot of fun. It was completely packed, everyone was screaming and singing the national anthem, and it was just a great experience. Unfortunately, I had class at 9 this morning, so I only stayed through the first period (they air the games at 7 PM EST, which is midnight over here).

My camera also hasn't turned up. I let the management company know, and they essentially told me "It's someone you're living with. Lock your door." That's complete crap, since I trust everyone in my flat and they've all been helping me look. I guess it's gone for good, so at some point in the next few days I'll buy a little disposable camera and then I can post some pictures.

This has been an eventful couple of days!

First of all, I woke up in one of those inexplicable rotten moods yesterday. I made my way grumpily to the internet cafe to check my e-mail, where I found an e-mail from my mother giving the excellent news that Sasha had come home! Apparently, my mom just happened to be looking out the front door when she saw Sasha walking across the front porch. She opened the door, called to Sasha, and Sasha walked right into the house. Little bugger. If cats could talk, I'd be interrogating that one to find out what the hell she's been doing for the last week. Still, everyone's glad to have her home.

The e-mail from my mom said that she'd given me all the details about Sasha's return in a voicemail, so when I went home and checked my voicemails, I not only heard all about Sasha, but I also had a voicemail from Ian. His wonderful dad gave him enough money to come and visit me in London, so we just have to figure out when he can come over now. Talk about a surprise!

My mood much improved, I hung out at home until the housemates returned from shopping, at which point we headed out for what I thought was a Pet Shop Boys concert. It turned out to be a lot more than that; it was this. In a nutshell, for those too lazy or unable to follow my link, the Pet Shop Boys wrote and performed the score to a 1925 silent film, Battleship Potemkin. The juxtaposition of the vintage film with a modern techno-esque soundtrack was oddly fitting, and since the movie (which I highly recommend, by the way) is about a mutiny and battle at sea, it was appropriate to be watching it in Trafalgar Square. The only real problem was that it was a little difficult for us short people to read the subtitles, but our taller friends kindly whispered them to us.

I love that this is a city where on the spur of the moment, I can see history being made (correct me if I'm wrong, but I believe this might have been the first British public screening of Potemkin), and/or the premiere of a major artistic event. I know a few people at home who are probably drooling with jealousy. Stop that, you're going to make your keyboards all wet.

Today I attended class and then visited the British Museum, which I'm not going to say much about because I can already tell I need to go back. It was amazing and overwhelming, and I figure I only saw about a quarter to a third of the collection. Fortunately, it's really close (15 minutes' walk - see how London is warping my mind already?) to our classroom space, so I can easily go back again.

That's all the news from here, other than that I still haven't taken that river cruise because I still can't find my damn camera. I'm seriously starting to think our landlady stole it, but then why wouldn't anyone else's stuff have gone missing? Bizarre. If I solve the mystery, I'll let you know.

A quick note: I think I'll take that river cruise today, but for some reason I can't find my camera, so unfortunately there will be no pictures. I have no clue where the damn thing's gone... I know it hasn't been stolen or lost, because I haven't taken it out of the flat yet, so it must be in one of my roommates' rooms, and none of them are home. So anyway, no pictures from this particular river cruise, but I will attempt to find it and take another one before the weather gets too bad to do it.

The post below was actually written on Wednesday, but for some reason Blogger and Hotmail were both bizarrely non-functional on that day, and I couldn't get to the internet cafe yesterday, so I sincerely apologize for being out of touch for so long. Rest assured that I am safe in London, and doing fine! We're also getting our phone hooked up today, so I'll be able to phone and be phoned from now on, and if you want the number shoot me an e-mail. (Unfortunately there's no voicemail capacity, so I'll probably be doing most of the phoning, as opposed to being phoned.)

I have now had two out of three of my classes, and they promise to be interesting and entertaining, although last night's concert for Music in London left a little to be desired (I'm not generally a fan of really avant-garde compositions, but at least they didn't play any John Cage). Today's a free day, and most of my roommates have headed off to a fruit and veg market in Soho. I was planning to take a boat trip on the Thames, but it's icky and cloudy and rainy off and on, so I am going to check out some little funky shops and cafes in Covent Garden instead. We're going to reconvene in West Hampstead (I've really got to think of some kind of shorthand for our neighbourhood/flat, as West Hampstead is a pain in the ass to type out repeatedly) around dinnertime, and then find somewhere to watch the sun set over the Thames. You can all be jealous now.

I've finally had that quintessential "oh-my-god-I'm-really-in-London" moment, and it was Wednesday night. Our resident party animals (Geoff and Jeff, who are off to Dublin this weekend, lucky sods) discovered a bar off Trafalgar Square called the Maple Leaf... as you can guess from the name, it's the Canadian bar mentioned in the previous post. We decided to engage in the traditional Canadian pastime of pre-drinking, since the hockey game didn't start till midnight, and why pre-drink at home when you can pre-drink in Trafalgar Square? One of the bus routes that goes to Trafalgar stops directly outside our flat and runs back and forth all night, which we considered to be a sign from God that this is what we were meant to do. We set up shop on the base of Nelson's Column, and here's where I'll reassure the parents and law-abiding figures that read this. Technically, drinking in public is illegal in Britain, but Trafalgar Square is continually patrolled by friendly policemen who keep an eye out for trouble. They don't mind if you drink as long as you're not being rowdy or causing trouble, so we were in good shape. We sat there for several hours, watching the traffic and meeting the locals, including a very sweet guy named Alan who gave us a lot of good info and watched out for the drunker ones among us (not me, I learned my lesson on Monday!). It was a great London night.

Yesterday I got to do a bit of exploring on my own, since we had a concert scheduled at 7:30 and didn't get out of class in the East End until 5. A lot of us, me among them, elected to stay in the area rather than tube for an hour all the way home and then turn right back around and come back. I took the tube to Embankment station, which is right south of Trafalgar Square on the north bank of the Thames, and crossed the footbridge to the Royal Festival Hall on the south bank.

It was my first glimpse of the Thames, and it was amazing. From the footbridge in the middle of the river, you can see a lot of the landmarks on both sides, including St. Paul's dome, and a lot of the church spires in the City. A railway bridge blocked my view of Westminster, although I've now seen the top of Big Ben and heard his famous bells. After crossing the bridge, I grabbed a sandwich, a copy of Hello!, and watched the river traffic for a while. I still had some time to kill before the concert, so I visited the South Bank Book Market, picked up a Paul Theroux book for two pounds, and watched the people passing by. I can see now why people love London life so much... it's a great city for parking yourself somewhere and just observing.

Now that I've reassured you that everything is good here, I'm going to find a nice cafe, get some food, and head over to Covent Garden. Expect some phone calls tonight!

So, I'm in London.

You'll have to forgive me if this post rambles a bit or seems a little disjointed... I'm still a little jet-lagged (note to self: alcohol is not a cure for jet lag, in fact it makes it worse). I have a lot of impressions about London and they're all mixed up and jumbled in my head, so I'll try and make things make as much sense as possible.

First of all, I want to reassure all of you that both my flights (Cleveland-Boston and Boston-London) were completely uneventful and even managed to depart on time. I also want to state for the record that in the future, when flying back and forth to the UK, I will always, always fly Virgin Atlantic. That is the nicest flight experience I have ever had, by far... there are little screens in each seat back where you can play video games, watch TV, watch movies, and listen to music, and the seats are comfy. I had three seats to myself so I even managed to stretch out and sleep a little. Also, when did airline food become not even edible, but good? Virgin's food service beats the pants off everything I've ever had before (helped along by the fact that they hire lots of adorable British boys to be their flight attendants).

I got into Heathrow about 7 AM London time, waited around till 9:30 for the rest of the West Hampstead group (British customs surprised me... they gave me less hassle there than they do at the Canadian border, and those of you who have traveled cross-border with me know that's saying quite a lot), and arrived at the West Hampstead flat around 10-something. Here's where things get mixed up, because at that point I was about ready to collapse and/or eat, but I had to unpack and go grocery shopping with the rest of the group.

The flat is two floors above a newsagent's shop, and from my window I have a lovely scene of London street life, double-decker buses and all. There are tons of little shops and cafes on our street, it's a short walk to the tube station, and everything I could possibly want is right nearby. The downsides are that the flat is kind of a dump (the girls next door not only have to share a room, they have to share a bed, but we're working on fixing that), and that the travel time to anywhere in London takes longer than you think. I've walked more in the last three days than I probably ever have in my life. On the plus side, the trip coordinators said that people always lose weight from all the walking around. This is a good thing, in my opinion.

All the people I'm living with are great. There are three other girls (Emma, Julie, and Kirsti), and four guys (Jeff, Geoff, Derek, and Cam). They're all fun, and they all like to have a good time. Most if not all of us are probably heading to Amsterdam two weekends from now, and tonight we're going to a Canadian bar near Trafalgar Square to watch Canada play in the quarterfinals of the hockey World Cup. Should be fun.

We had our introductory lecture today, met most of the teachers, went over our course schedule, and learned a bit about Hoxton Hall, the oldest music hall in Britain. Tomorrow we have a concert at the Purcell Room on the South Bank for our music course, then next week the normal class schedule starts up. I'm not sure how much work it's going to be just yet, but it's going to be a fun semester.

I don't have a lot to report about the touristy sights of London yet, because Monday I got settled in, Tuesday I was jet-lagged and hung over and only managed to stumble down the street to the library to use the Internet, and today I didn't hear my alarm clock and woke up ten minutes before we had to leave for class. I think Emma and Julie and I are going out to do touristy things in a little while, though, so I'm excited to get my first sights of London beyond our neighbourhood and where we had our class today.

I'm still working on getting a phone hooked up in our flat, so as soon as I have a number I'll let you know what it is.

I have no expletives foul enough to describe this evening (and those who know me well know how rare it is that I'm at such a loss for expletives).

This evening, my last one at home, I invited my friend James over for burgers on the grill and good conversation. During the grilling of said burgers, Sasha slipped out the back door and took off for parts unknown, namely the weed-infested ass end of our back yard, where the fungus grows to disturbing proportions. I managed to corner her and scoop her up, but being terrified, she nearly took my arm off and fled. She headed southeast in the company of Leo, the giant white cat next door.

Before you begin to wonder, let me explain that although Sasha was a stray (and undoubtedly streetwise) before we got her, she's been in the shelter since April and she's only been home with us for less than two weeks, during which time she's never been outdoors. She's not familiar with these surroundings at all, so I was worried she wouldn't be able to find her way home.

About a half hour ago, Sasha and Leo were spotted in the back yard racing around, though, so obviously she can find her way home. We have her litterbox and cat condo out on the back patio to help her find the scent, and we've baited a Havahart trap with her favourite cat food. Here's hoping that we catch a Sasha and not a Leo or a Skunk or a Raccoon.

Any positive thoughts and/or catloaves would be very much appreciated. (Don't laugh. I believe in the mystical powers of the catloaf.)

In other news, I leave for London tomorrow. I'm all packed, I've said (most of) my goodbyes, and unless there's Sasha-news, my next update will be from across the pond.

See you over there!