Did you know I'm living in London this summer?

Thing I've learned about London since I've been here: The London Underground. The London Underground is possibly the most mis-named subway system in the world. On my first "Underground" ride, from the airport to my hotel, 90% of the ride was what I would classify as "Aboveground." Subsequent rides have been more inline with my expectations, but I feel a more universal, all-encompassing name is in order. Also, whenever people say "mind the gap" in reference to the Underground, they're not joking around. They really do say that a lot.

My family left for their cruise this morning, and I don't meet up with my group and move into my flat until tomorrow, so I had a day to myself today. As such, I decided to be the biggest tourist possible. My shoes are lessing than a week old now , but after today I can say with a degree of confidence that I have put more miles (kilometers?) on them than some people do over the entire life of their shoes.

First, a little London geography. The hotel that I'm staying at is in a neighborhood called Bayswater, which is north of Hyde Park (basically London's equivalent to Central Park). It's a pretty quiet, pretty cosmopolitan neighborhood, the kind with tree lined streets full of white row houses, where you wouldn't do a double take seeing an old man in a suit and top hat stepping out at nine p.m. to walk his tiny Yorkshire Terrier. My hotel is the kind that they don't have in the US - the kind where I have to walk up five flights of narrow, haphazard stairs to get to my single room. It's not an exaggeration to say that a queen-sized bed wouldn't fit in my room, even if you got rid of every other piece of furniture. Calling it standing-room only is even being a bit generous. Anyways, from my hotel this morning I walked south through the park to Royal Albert Hall and the Imperial College (this is right near where I'll be staying for the rest of the trip). From here I walked back up north across a different part of the park, next to Kensington Palace. I'm told this is where Princess Diana lived. This left me in Notting Hill, which is the next neighborhood west from Bayswater. You know, like the movie. I've seen the first half of that movie at least five times, but never the ending. If I had seen the whole thing, I might have seen the scene in which they go to Portobello Road market. On most days, I guess Portobello is just a regular neighborhood shopping street. But on Saturdays, it transforms into a ridiculous open-air antique and food market. And I mean ridiculous in the best possible way. Ever wanted antique boxing gloves, tennis rackets, or bicycle horns? This is the place to get them. Fake war memorabilia? Eighteenth century map engravings? Collections of leather bound books from British poets I like to pretend I've read? All here. The people shopping seemed to be mainly tourists, and as such there were a lot of typical tourist stalls selling cheap London-themed junk, but the atmosphere was still wild. Lots of live music and vendors hawking (hocking?) their junk to anyone within shouting distance.

And the record stores! For those who don't know, I'm a big record store geek, and there were lots of great ones either on or around Portobello Road. The kind we certainly don't have in Arizona, where there are entire shelves devoted to Warp Records vinyl, or where they have rare, out-or-print Vashti Bunyan LPs for 125 pounds. You know, the awesome kind. I rarely buy CDs anymore, and buying vinyl seems tricky when I consider how well it's going to travel home, so I showed some restraint today. I came really close to buying a nine-volume Trojan Records Dub boxset (only 14 pounds!), but I guess there's still nine weeks for that.

After exhausting myself at Portobello I took the train to Piccadilly Circus, a few miles west of Notting Hill. Piccadilly Circus is like London's equivalent of Times Square, in that it is a giant clusterfuck of tourists and advertising, with a bunch of theaters scattered around for good measure. I walked down the block from the subway station to the Royal Academy, one of the many art museums in the area. Unlike many, which are free, this one charged admission for most of the exhibitions, so I decided against it for now. It seemed interesting, though, so I'm sure I'll be back at some point. Seeing museums is actually one of the things I'm most excited about on this trip. I had planned to walk up Regent Street and then across Oxford Street (two of the bigger shopping streets) back to my hotel, but my feet were already pretty tired and I decided there was no way that was going to happen. I did make it all the way up Regent Street. I have nothing against shopping per se, but Regent Street in generally is definitely not my scene, I decided. I only found one store that I had any interest in going in - a toy store (I forget the name, but it was huge - 6 storeys). I can always amuse myself by browsing at Legos, and they had hundreds a sets! Awesome. By the time I reached the end of the road I decided I deserved a break, and took the subway to the hotel to crash for a few hours.

After my break, it was evening already, and I was ready to do something again. Considering my options, I realized that I was hopelessly ignorant about what I could do by myself on a Saturday night in London. I considered going to a pub, but I decided it would just seem weird wandering in alone. Instead, I decided a would take the subway back to Piccadilly Circus, and go off in a different direction this time. After wandering aimlessly through the crowds for a little while, I somehow ended up in Trafalgar Square. From across the street, I noticed that there was a large stage set up, and a truly awful Asian hip hop band was on stage. I decided to stay and check it out only after learning two things - a) it was free, and b) (and this is the really important one), the event was sponsored by a bank from Thailand, and there were loads of vendors selling Thai food. After learning this, there was no way I wasn't going to stay for a while. After enjoying some delicious pad thai, I wandered off down a row of government buildings and ended up in front of Buckingham Palace. If there's one aspect of British culture that I'll never understand, it's the obsession with the Royal family. I mean, I can even appreciate cricket for the novelty value, but as for Queen Elizabeth and family (that is the current queen, right?), I will always remain blissfully disinterested. Today was her birthday, by the way. Luckily, I was too late for the madness. From here I backtracked a little and went to see Big Ben, the Parliament Building, and Westminster Abbey. Now here's something I could actually get interested it. The architecture is simply stunning. I also learned that I cannot look and Big Ben without physically picturing Peter Pan flying behind it. Hopefully I can cure myself of this affliction by the time I leave. Speaking of afflictions, I am quite confident that I am going to die crossing the street one day. I mean, I am a fairly seasoned street-crosser, but crossing over here is somewhat akin to playing Russian Roulette. Half of the intersections don't have any sort of signal of crosswalk, and no matter how many times I do it, I cannot drill into my head that you're supposed to look right for oncoming traffic. Usually I end up stopping, physically picturing an American intersection, reversing it in my head, and then proceeding.

After Big Ben, I crossed the river and walked past the Aquarium (by now it's about 8:30, so everything's closed) and London Eye ferris wheel. By now, the feet-tiredness was becoming an issue, and although I hated the idea of retiring to the hotel, I resigned myself to the fact that I actually had had a full day and I could end it early without regret. Besides which, I learned of loads of pubs and bars that looked like they would be considerably more fun if I returned with others rather than drinking alone.

I am exhausted. Good night.

This is a small section of Portobello Road (part of the antiques section). The whole street is 1 1/2 miles.

My favorite stall, devoted completely to bicycle horns.

Speaking a bicycles, bicycles are awesome. If I wasn't so sure I would die, I would be thrilled to ride through the city. This was on Portobello Road, and it wasn't nearly as cool as I hoped it would be, though. Truth be told, I see more awesome, homemade retro bikes per capita in Tucson than I've seen among London bikes so far.