It’s a common opinion that I’m saddled with a certain tunnel vision about social interactions — either that I don’t notice or don’t care — that’s not exactly true, though I can certainly understand how people might get that impression. For instance, on the morning of the 12th, people might have gotten the impression that I skipped breakfast because I was in a crappy mood about my Palm — and skip breakfast I did, but it was mostly because I was in a funk about nothing in particular and I didn’t want to set the mood for the day with my bad one — see? socially considerate, but just too complicated (or I’m too lazy to want to stop and explain it) — it’s easier to just do it and avoid everyone than explain it (also, if I explained it, my friends would feel compelled to help me fix it, and it didn’t want fixing).

Anyway.

Despite having skipped breakfast, I did get a good birthday singing-to when I stopped in to see what the morning’s plans were. That at least made me smile, as did some antics later in the day.

First off, since Jackie was worried about not having good tickets for “my” show that night, we rode up to Leicester Square to check the TKTS booth first thing (and I stopped at a book store in Vic Station to pick up a notebook to write my trip notes in, since I was now sans Palm), but it was still so early that six people sitting next to each other meant sitting in the very front row, so we decided to wait a bit and try again.

I should explain how the TKTS booth works — it’s actually very simple: first come, first served, half-price tickets to shows that show THAT DAY ONLY, and you HAVE to take the closest available seating from the stage, which means it’s basically a crap shoot — get them too early and you’re getting spit on by the actors when they over-emote and can’t see what’s happening at the back of the stage — wait too long and you have to agree to sell programs at the door to get inside.

We opted to kill time at Covent Garden, which is a sort of ‘anything at all’ Market after having one been a produce-oriented place — shopping therapy for one and all, plus we then had to go back through Leicester Square to get to the Tower of London (our planned activity for the afternoon), which would let us check on tickets again… a well-thought-out plan that ACTUALLY worked, at least basically.

We shopped for a bit and then stopped for a bit to much on scones and feed pigeons in the mostly-abandoned main market (early in the day and rainy = fewer shoppers). I picked up some things at a shop associated with Pollock’s Toy Museum, including dominoes for Justin and a fun “chores” dice I intend to keep on my desk at home — it has tasks on five of its and one “Go watch TV” face — I foresee some use for it on those days when Justin can’t think of anything to do. :)

After the scones we wandered into the less-permanent-feeling hay market section of stalls and from there to the adjacent London Transport Museum … well, at least the Gift Shop (where Dave and I spotted the interesting-looking “Abandoned Stations of London’s Underground” that I plan to pick up on Amazon in the future — the gift shop prices were crazy).

We had tea at an Aroma Cafe and walked back to Leicester Square to check on tickets. Six people? Hmm… Second balcony? Oh. How about 4 and 2? Fourth and sixth row in the stalls? Great. Set us up. Ate lunch at Bella’s — a nice little Italian place a block southeast of Leicester Square and I started breaking in my notebook.

Notice the frequent stops for tea and rest? Helped us get through the day more successfully and better rested — at least that was the plan. Good thing we were walking all over the place in London to combat the frequent snacking, but it certainly seemed to work, both for us and everyone else. The image of a pudgy Englishman is a myth, ladies and gentlemen — obesity is by FAR and away more prevalent when you look around a (any) public place in the U.S., and the only people I saw in London with a real gut on them were Taxi Drivers — go figure — and in the U.S., we’re all Taxi Drivers of one kind or another.
It’s been said that London is not a city that was built to accomodate cars — I’m going to take that a step further (paraphrasing Neil Gaiman for about the fourth time this week) and say it isn’t really built to accomodate people in general — certainly not in any sort of group. For one thing, it wasn’t designed in any sense of the word; it grew. I think it’s only a city like London that will ever really have a decent mass transportation system — one in which the only real solution to moving lots of people around is to tunnel under the massive living thing on the surface (or build above it) and construct (or dig) new, straighter lanes of travel. Thus, you have Paris, London, New York, etc. with good subway systems, lots of pedestrians, and so forth.
Then look at towns like Denver, where only the very center of town wasn’t laid out on a regular grid with nice wide streets and four-lane super-streets every half-mile or so, either north-south or east-west — the roads ARE the mass-transit system in a place like this — just a horribly fuel-inefficient one — that’s the mindset of places like Denver. If you don’t believe me, look at the amount of money we spent to expand the Light Rail system last year, versus the amount we’re putting into adding another lane for traffic on the I-25 corridor through the center of town. The city fathers might say they want people to use more efficient means of commuting, but where is the money going?
It’s a foolish line of thought, but here we go: raise the fuel taxes high enough to pay for serious upgrades to mass transit and don’t expand the highway system past it’s current capacity. Higher fuel costs = more car-pooling = less cars = less need for highway expansions and more people interested in the mass transit solutions.
Of course, if you try it, the SUV drivers would vote you out of office. We saw less than 15 SUV’s in London the whole time we were there… about the same number in rural Wales.

Thence to Tower Bridge Station and the guided tour of the Tower (really more of a fortress). Colin Smith was the fellow conducting the tour — an elderly chap and member of the Royal Yeomen or “Beefeaters” who was quite the charmer and very funny. Of note was the chapel within the grounds where over a thousand people (mostly victimns of execution) have been buried without any sort of marker, so as to prevent their becoming martyrs. The gift shop near the crown jewels was crap, but we spent just enough time there that we had to rush through the White Tower’s exhibits of weapons and armor (pictures forthcoming) and missed the giftshop therein. By this point, the weather — which had been cold and become colder, had been misty and became mistier — now got properly organized and became both bloody cold and piss-on-your-head drizzling. It was very… authentic-feeling February London weather.

All the Yeoman must have served in the British Armed Forces for at least 15 years and been awarded a number of medals in that time, then pass a lengthy interview process. They are stationed as wardens at several key historical sites, but at the Tower of London they actually live within the grounds themselves — there are 50 Yeomen stationed there and 45 families live on the grounds. No women or Navy personnel have passed the interview process yet — women rarely apply and Navy folks have only been allowed to apply for the last five years — they were officially considered ‘too untrustworthy’ prior to that point.

We tubed back to the B&B, some of us changing clothes quickly, and headed out for dinner before the show, meeting up with Margie at Vic Station where she’d opted to wait. We’d planned to eat at Bella’s again, since they gave discounts if you were headed to the Theatre afterwards but the place was considerably more smoke-filled than before, so it was across the street to Wagamama, one of a very very good chain of restaurants modeled after Japanese ramen bars. Huge, tasty portions and very interesting desserts. (For instance, white chocolate/ginger cheesecake). I rather hope they make the jump across the Atlantic in the future. They are a very high-tech group, using Ipaq handhelds and wireless network cards to take orders. The (large) place had plenty of seating room when we got there, but filled up so quickly that we had to walk past a queue on the way out.

Les Miserables started up at 7.30p at the Palace Theatre. Lemme sum up: THE CAST WAS AMAZING. Of particular note was the olive-skinned, long-haired Eponine, Javert, and a hugely versatile Jean Valjean. Fantine was also great, and the whole cast was absolutely superb. Easily the best performance of the show I’ve seen. I called Dad during the intermission to wish him happy birthday, but got the answering machine. Again, the show was amazing. I think the only problems I really had with the show were the death scenes, which were good but not great (with the exception of Fantine, who was really good throughout).

Everyone seemed to be thouroughly entertained by the show and energized, so we all got off at Westminster station instead of Victoria and walked back in the direction of the B&B, acting like Loons and Loud Americans the whole way, just generally enjoying ourselves (although I’d say Lori’s reverberating monkey-calls in the Westerminster Tube Station tunnels, echoed by Dave’s ostrich calls in reply was probably the highlight).

I don’t write it, people; I just report it.

We also found out that the reason the Westminster Station public loos are in such good shape is that they are only kept open during something like Banker’s hours — this kept us moving toward home fairly quickly.

Finished up the evening at the Internet Cafe, where Lori and Dave got a sandwich at the connected Subway (yes, the U.S. sub shop, which wasn’t in London or anywhere at all the last time I was here) and the four of us got connected to the rest of the world (while Dave and Margie showed some internet self-control and went home early :).

Oh no...

You set Eellee loose in a tube station...

It was one of those situations when even Justin would have been saying "Jeez, quiet down a little." I'm trying to look nonchalant, nodding to passerby and whispering "quit scaring the Straights" under my breath.

Hope the book you're looking for is avaialable on Amazon. The one I was eyeing (A Logo for London) was only available on Amazon.co.uk (and through the LTM's online gift shop, at ruinous shipping rates).

From USAtoday

Concerned about being a magnet for anti-Americanism during your next trip abroad? Bruce McIndoe, CEO of iJet Travel Intelligence, offers his tips for staying under the radar:
*Avoid American fast-food restaurants and chains.
*Keep discussions of politics to private places, not rowdy bars.
*Take a rain check on wearing clothes featuring American flags or sports team logos.
*Keep your passport out of sight.
*Keep cameras, video equipment and maps tucked away.
*Soften your speech; Americans typically overshadow their hosts in the volume department.

That last bit doesn't sound like anybody we know does it?

One of the things I noticed after my Palm fried and I had to resort to a nifty little flip-out mapbook -- I suddenly had parasites people moving in on me as soon as that damn map made an appearance.

It wasn't that I was checking my directions any more than I had been, but when I was using my Palm to do it, I didn't LOOK like I was checking a map, which is obviously a bit tourist 'tell'.

I say that having to rely on a visible map was one of the big problems with losing the Palm during the trip -- it was certainly a source of hassle.

I agree.

On the other hand, the paper maps were faster and, ah, less prone to failure.

***Dave

What no plug in problems or current/voltage problems.

*grin*

odd.

Speaking of which...have FedEx and Palm figured out where Doyce's palm is?

Somewhere on the London Underground, being carried off by an obnoxious monkey ...

*giggle...Snort*

ahh...I have heard tales of Monkey's that possess ceramic poo-stick's of much flinging…

Actually, they emailed me yesterday to (finally) confirm that they had received the Palm (which had actually been delivered last Friday).

At this rate, their 7 to 10 days should be roughly a month.