Yesterday, 9:20, got on train for airport.
Today, 7:30, got off plane at Heathrowe.
I took a hobo shower in the station, changed my stinky clothes, and got off the train at Picadilly Circus Station at about 8:30. Dunno why I picked Picadilly - guess I liked the name.
I ended up wandering the city a good bit, not really stopping except to eat in parks, finally meeting up with Elizabeths friend at 1pm, Camden Station. It's an interesting area of town: lower middle class housing, and an outdoor food market that's being slowly replaced by the UK's version of Harajuku. Swarms of hollow eyed goth kids emerge from the station, shopping for bondage pants, handkercheifs emblazoned with the anarchy symbol, and cheap ethnic food. A few punks are sprinkled through the crowds selling drugs (no one offered me anything besides weed).
We shared a long lunch in the park, than wandered through the alleys of Camden Town. Elizabeths friend turned out to be a dancer with bad balance. She's studying modern dance, "the legitimate way to work naked".
Nose continues to throb, but not so much.
After seeing the gal off, I took the 4pm train to Oxford, arriving an hour and 20 minutes later. I tried to imagine Thomas Hardy's England, but I couldn't quite see it through my seat window. The hills roll, but something's changed, I think.
Today, 7:30, got off plane at Heathrowe.
I took a hobo shower in the station, changed my stinky clothes, and got off the train at Picadilly Circus Station at about 8:30. Dunno why I picked Picadilly - guess I liked the name.
I ended up wandering the city a good bit, not really stopping except to eat in parks, finally meeting up with Elizabeths friend at 1pm, Camden Station. It's an interesting area of town: lower middle class housing, and an outdoor food market that's being slowly replaced by the UK's version of Harajuku. Swarms of hollow eyed goth kids emerge from the station, shopping for bondage pants, handkercheifs emblazoned with the anarchy symbol, and cheap ethnic food. A few punks are sprinkled through the crowds selling drugs (no one offered me anything besides weed).
We shared a long lunch in the park, than wandered through the alleys of Camden Town. Elizabeths friend turned out to be a dancer with bad balance. She's studying modern dance, "the legitimate way to work naked".
Nose continues to throb, but not so much.
After seeing the gal off, I took the 4pm train to Oxford, arriving an hour and 20 minutes later. I tried to imagine Thomas Hardy's England, but I couldn't quite see it through my seat window. The hills roll, but something's changed, I think.
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