Lock Down

Hello all from the Harry Potter capitol of the world…London, England!  My first couple days of adventure have been quite a breeze, which probably wasn’t helped by the long 16-hour coma that we all took on the first night or the 10 hours of travel time before we even got to London.  However, that’s all behind me now, and I’ve finally gotten around to writing my first European blog entry.

 It’s amazing how many little stories can occur in such a small time period, but I guess pulling a Jack Bauer and staying up for around 24 hours probably helps.  The journey started off with a couple of scares right away.  These were highlighted by my acquired skill of forgetting where I place things, namely the lock to my backpack.  On the first plane from Minneapolis to Iceland, I somehow lost the small lock on my backpack while sitting at my seat.  After initiating a code red lockdown, I searched fruitlessly for about 15 seconds and then decided to give up and try and sleep. But between love ballads by my dream girl, I kept waking up and checking my bag to make sure that nothing had been stolen (We’ve been told that pickpockets in Europe are more prevalent than wizards, so I naturally thought that everyone surrounding me was adept at thievery).  This continued for the remainder of the six-hour flight, which needless to say means that I didn’t sleep very well.  Now, remember this story, because I am going to skillfully segue into more amusing anecdotes (or change stories for those who aren’t gifted with the same knowledge of grammar as me…Mom).

 The next plane ride was comparatively short to the first, seeing as it was only two and a half hours.  The Three Caballeros and I slept for most of the ride, but by the time the plane was about to land, we were all awake and getting excited.  One Caballero was so excited that he couldn’t fully contain “it”, and he soon filled an airplane courtesy bag with “it” (Scott on the Rocks is above naming names, but this person’s name doesn’t start with a S, B, or R).

Once on the ground, we meandered towards our hostel.  But since our hostel was off Piccadilly Circus, this of course meant that there were no road signs (because who doesn’t know the street names near Piccadilly Circus?).  We were forced to ask a random Londoner for directions, but he seemed about as lost as us.  After an educated guess (which was of course correct…it was educated), we found our hostel and settled in.  Our room was about half the size of a St. John’s dorm room with twice as many beds.  With all of this body heat in such close quarters, the room was very hot.  Now, anyone who knows me may know that I need a fan to sleep.  In fact, if you exchange the word “fan” for a certain other f-word in this clip, you’ll see just how necessary a fan is to my life.  Without a fan, I stayed awake for about 2 hours at 1 AM BST and read a book.  I was going to blog to all you who care right then, but unfortunately the internet costs money in Europe and one thing I don’t have is lots of money.  If you all remember about two minutes ago, I already had had some troubles staying asleep (I told you I’d get back to the lock story…look at me not being forgetful anymore).  But, I eventually fell back asleep only to wake up with everyone else at the wee morning hour of 12 PM.  Oops.

Our day-and-a-half in London probably qualifies us as experts of the tourist business, because we somehow ran around and saw almost everything.  As if those 10-15 total miles wasn’t enough, we are planning to wake up at 3 AM tomorrow and hop on a train to Paris.  Whoopie.  So, for now I guess wish me and the Caballeros luck, and I’ll write again soon.

Also, I’ve decided to start a tally of all the times that the Caballeros accidentally offend someone in Europe (or purposefully I guess).  So far we have…

Bill: Not only did he have trouble understanding the Iceland customs officer (Customs Officer: “How long are you staying in Europe?  Bill’s response: “Thank you.”), but he also asked, “They have stairs in Iceland?” immediately after getting off the plane.

Me: When walking past a large crowd of people standing and taking pictures, I severely insulted a member of the Prime Minister’s security outside the Prime Minister’s office when I asked him what everyone was looking at.

Special Shout out of the Day: Steve Twelves, because it’s his birthday…or was his birthday, depending on when you read this.  He is another year older and now looks like this.  Just kidding.

Ya digg?

 Your friend or family member (or random acquaintance)

Scott Twelves