London Saturday 11/21

Ah yes, the maiden voyage driving into London. I am so impressed by semi-truck drivers here. Fine, lorries, whatever. I don’t know how they make their way down these narrow, pint-sized alleys. Maybe the sides of their trucks are covered in vaseline. As far as our vehicle goes, zipping around London is actually kind of fun, and there's a bit of an out of body mindset you have to embrace so you stop thinking of the 1001 different ways people might smash into you every given second. It's kind of like I'm in a video game - I even end up in the wrong part of town with decrepit slums that all look the same. We meet Rich and Patrick, and they turn out to be stellar promoters. Their flat mate cooked a big pot of chili and a load of baked potatoes and we have a grand old feed. Alas, we have to leave this little womb of comfort and venture back into the labyrinth of London’s one-way streets. We eventually make it to Barfly, and Zach finds a parking spot while I pull the car around. This is easier said than done though, and it takes me 15 minutes to get the car back to where he is. So Zach entertains himself by keeping really pissed-off Italians from parking in the spot he’s holding. The bar’s door is manned by a member of the Amy Winehouse army, and the show is understandably awesome.

While the band is sound checking, I go exploring on the tube. This is kind of a bust for two reasons: 1) the station I want to go to is under construction, and 2) they have posters for Legally Blonde the Musical plastered everywhere. Which obviously wouldn’t be that big of a deal, but the lead actresses’ name is Sheridan. And here I was thinking my name was only a girl’s name in Australia. Maybe I should try a transgendered lifestyle. Sheridan’s definitely a cooler gender neutral name than Pat.

As far as the actual tube experience goes, it's pretty amazing how the train cars are packed with people and yet everyone manages to not look anyone else in the eye or even acknowledge each other’s existence, even if it’s a sniffley nosed grandma pressed up against their back. The girl next to me is crying and has mascara running down her checks. But I still think the tube is pretty cool.

After the show, we make it to the hostel Rich was nice enough to book us. A Russian lets us park in the expensive hotel’s locked carpark down the street (and he even didn’t kill Zach for humping the orange Porche in the Porche only zone), and now the only thing I have to worry about is that I didn’t get shingles or fleas from our one random roommate.