Going Home for a While 

Well, friends, over 50 blog posts later and it may be close to an end for this blog and the beginning of a new one.

This blog is called “Life in Lagos” and in a few hours, I will leave Lagos for a while. I’m not sure for how long, but at least over the summer months.

So, what should I do? Keep posting about my life elsewhere? Change the name of the blog to “My Life”? I’m still mulling it over.

I am currently sitting in the Lagos airport, wanting for my flight that leaves in about three hours. I am sitting in a lounge, gorging myself on finger sandwiches, small diced fruit, Coca-Cola, water, free air conditioning, free Wi-Fi, plantain chips, and cashews.  God how I love cashews. 

I’m drinking all the water that I can while I am only a few feet away from a bathroom. Flying dries me out like a 200 lb bag of sand. It’s awful. So I’m trying to stay hydrated. 

I took a company sponsored bus to get here today. We went into an estate, which is like a gated neighborhood, that I have never been to before. The houses were like mini mansions, but it was odd because many of them were boarded up. But it was still very nice.

Several of the houses were pastel colors and one was pepto bismol pink. Can you imagine a mansion sized, concrete house the color of pepto? I wish I had gotten a photo of it because it’s almost unbelievable. 

This is a photo of one of the huge houses.  

The guy that we picked up from this estate was a seemingly important business man. He listened to videos aloud on the bus and even tried to  take a conference call while on the bus but eventually gave up (THANK GOD) when he couldn’t hear his co-workers over all the loud honking.  It took over an hour to get to the airport, but that’s about normal.

Believe it or not, I dozed off on the bus. It was a cramped bus, and even as a short person, my knees were hitting the back of the chair in front of me. But I have been feeling very anxious and I think my body just gave me a big F U and decided it needed a nap before entering the chaos of the Lagos airport.

I hate the airport. I never know exactly which line to stand in, or what “procedures” will be in place. I have had a different experience every time I have flown into or out of Lagos and the uncertainty is awful to me.

But, today was a relatively smooth venture, aside from my shoes taking a curiously long time for them to come out of the X Ray machine.

The bags are searched three times. Upon entering, they go through an unmonitored x-ray machine. Don’t ask, I have no idea. Then, they’re searched BY HAND, by an official. Depending on the person, day, your luck, and / or the lunar cycle, your panties end up disheveled and your stripper heels are ridiculed  (not kidding , I have seen both of these things happen) OR the official casually thumbs through your belongings.  Lucky for me, today I had the casual thumb through but I have experienced the panty unpacking search before as well. Lastly, they are put through a monitored x-ray machine before you’re allowed to go to your gate. This security check is where I once had a mug taken from me by a woman who informed me that she was going to use it. The mug was for a friend and I was sad for her to take it, but I was headed  home and just wanted to be allowed to board the plane. I would have given her the drawers off my own ass to be allowed to board the plane and get the hell outta here.

This is kind of a rambling blog post today, but it’s kind of just me writing about my day, in a tired and anxious state of mind, sitting here enjoying the free tea sandwiches.

The main photo was taken before these other losers showed up and started making noise in the lounge.

Perhaps I will write at least a few more posts over the summer. Would you be interested in reading about my life OUTSIDE of Lagos?

Until tomorrow, my friends…

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Visit to IMAX, Part 2

Ah, Saturday in Lagos!

Saturdays are my favorite days because I get to go out with R and we usually have a little adventure.  I think he enjoys going out on Saturdays, too.

We don’t get to go out during the week very often because the driver works 9-4 unless it’s a special request and the company states that we should not stay out alone, unescorted, after 7:00 pm.

So, today, we decided to go eat pizza at Pizza Riah and see “The Guardians of the Galaxy ” at the IMAX theater. 

It’s the rainy season, so today was very wet! Lots of rain, thundering, lightning, and even worse than usual drivers, if that’s somehow possible. 

Today, our car was actually bumped from the guy behind us but it wasn’t enough to jolt us around so no one got out to say anything.  Our driver yelled “this idiot, this idiot” twice and we continued on our way. 

Lunch at Pizza Riah was good, but we got there when a big group of expat brats were sitting at a large table behind us. They were screaming for some reason until one of the workers hushed them, in absence of their parents doing so.

One of the workers even called them “complaining little shits ” under his breath.  I couldn’t have agreed more. I have heard lots of horror stories about how absolutely awful expat children are, at least the ones who grow up with maids and drivers and hands off parents.

I wouldn’t be so judgemental if they had been a little quieter. Ha!

One of the workers admired my peace sign shaped earrings and said, “You have a taste for expensive things.” Then, he smiled. I asked him to repeat himself twice and then never understanding, I just smiled and nodded. R informed me of what he had actually said and I informed R of the actual coat of the earrings, which was about $4.99 at Wal-Mart.

After eating, we went to the IMAX theater.  We were in time to see the 2D version of “The Guardians of the Galaxy ” . Man, the 2D screen was very disappointing.  It was like the size of a large home theatre screen.  It was a big screen but not as big as a regular movie screen in the States. The theater was intimate which is fancy talk for I could hear people around me eating their popcorn.

Also, we were close enough to see people’s phones. So, when there was a pop culture reference to David Hasselhoff during the movie, R noticed that the Nigerians in front of us had taken out their phone and Googled him. That was quite funny to us.

Before we saw the movie, we sat in the lobby for an hour and ate gelato.  There was a worker who walked by no less than six times, dragging the dust pan along the floor very loudly.  I made a face and when he passed by the second time, I said to R: “he’s dragging the damn thing like we have to HEAR him cleaning! And look at that big ass kernel he left on the floor even after all that damn noise be made!” R said: “He’s dragging it along the floor like it’s a vacuum cleaner!” We were both amused and annoyed. 

I cannot say I was impressed with the young man’s cleaning abilities. 

The movie was great; I won’t ruin it for anyone but I highly recommend you go see it.

But, don’t go see it in Lagos because I guess the folks here don’t know about after credit scenes, which are especially prevalent in the newer Marvel movies. The movie had FIVE after credit scenes, which we had to watch in the light and with the workers cleaning around us because we were very close to being rushed out! I would have been damned to leave without watching the after credit scenes, damn it!

All in all, it was an interesting and good day. 

Until tomorrow my friends…

51st Post and My 5 Minute Gratitude List

Tonight I tried to brainstorm lots of things to write about, but I came up empty handed.

The truth is, like I wrote before, every day isn’t an amazing, crazy adventure, whether you’re living in the town you grew up in or in a very foreign place. Life is what you make of it, but I don’t think we should obligate ourselves to make every day amazing or crazy.

The past year or so has thrown me for a loop; there have been lots of good news and bad news, change, stress, and adjustment for me. To be honest, nowadays, I quite enjoy simple, low stress, no excitement kind of days. Life has given me enough excitement and stress to last me a good long while.

Perhaps, I’m also just getting older. Even though I almost constantly obsess about what I should be doing, my mind and body have grown into a kind of peaceful tiredness. I am rejecting some of the worry that I used to embrace with open arms. I thought worrying was a part of doing. I now understand that it isn’t.

So on days like today, when the most interesting thing I did was iron three shirts (which is totally out of character for me, which is why it was quite interesting), I have learned to be deeply thankful for the nothingness.

But, no one wants to read about nothingness, so I struggled to know what to write about today, until I came across a writing exercise. The writing exercise was to write a list of the things for which you are thankful for 5 minutes. The instructions said to just write and don’t worry about putting the things in an order, or getting to a number. The purpose is simply to be mindful of your gratitude for 5 whole minutes.

So, for today’s post, I will share my 5 Minute Gratitude List and some photos, taken this year, as I peacefully strolled down a street in the Museum District of Houston, Texas. Enjoy!

 

My Gratitude List

Being alive

Being mostly healthy

My hair is growing back

Electricity

Internet access

Medical insurance

Food

Opportunity to learn how to cook different kinds of food over time

Resources to buy tools that make cooking easier, more fun

Sharing my knowledge of cooking and baking with other people

Tea

Soy milk

Air conditioning

Socks for my cold feet at night

Clean drinking water

Always having had access to glasses and/or contact lenses to correct my poor vision

My own computer

The ability to read and write

Cell phones / blogs / ability to communicate easily with friends and family while traveling or at home

A place to go in the States / a home

Friends

Family

My education

My mother and other family members teaching me the value of education

All of my senses: sight, hearing, taste, touch, speaking

The opportunity to work with / teach young children

The opportunity to work with / teach young adults and older students

Courage to go against the grain / go against things my peers do or did that do not align with my values

My own mind and set of values

My book collection

My cats

 

 

And…photos from a nice walk in the Museum District.

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Also, this is my fifty first post! WHOO HOOO!

Until tomorrow, my friends…

My First Apple Pie

I’m not a pie kind of person.

There! I said it! The world knows my truth now. 

But, I am a budding baker. And bakers have to know how to make pies and cakes and breads.

So, today, in the spirit of stretching my baking abilities and using up some soft apples, I made my very first apple pie. 

I am so proud of this pie because it’s a mismatched bastard of a pie. I used one recipe to make the pie dough and I had to make a substitution in that recipe and then I used another recipe for the filling.

My cornstarch (used as thickener) clumped and I had to strain the liquid before adding the apples. I forgot to cover the pie with foil so it browned too quickly. I also had the oven at the wrong temperature for part of the time. Hey, don’t judge me. Constantly converting American recipes to use elsewhere in the world, you know, Fahrenheit to Celsius, is a pain in the ass.

Let’s see? What else went wrong with this damn pie? I think that might be it.

Oh, I also had to fight ants to use the cutting board. There may have been one or two rogue ants that made it into the pie, but I don’t know because it turned out DELICIOUS!

Oh, also, I forgot to take a photo of the pie when it came out of the oven, so here she is in her pre-baked and pale, naked glory.

The pie turned out to be so tasty! I was proud and I almost understood why people like pie so much. Personally, give me cake or give me some more cake.

And as a bonus, look at this video I shot during traffic today. Can you see anything interesting happening? AH, Lagos!

Until tomorrow, my friends…

Not a Very Interesting Day

Today was not very interesting, but I am going to write about it anyway because not every day is an interesting one, no matter where you are in the world.

If I had to guess, I would think that even the most exciting people in the world still lead lives that are at least 85% mundane and boring. I bet Elon Musk is sitting around bored out of his mind right now, and he’s one of the most interesting people on the planet, at least in my opinion. 

My day was so mundane that I’ve spent a paragraph talking about boredom in a blog that I write to describe my days. How’s that for irony?

This morning, another set of guys came to check the light bulbs all through the house.  I had recently asked them to come out, so this time, there were only two lightbulbs out. Both of the bulbs that were replaced today must have come from the reject batch to have blown out so quickly. 

R came home for lunch. He had said he would be happy eating grilled cheese sandwiches, but there are two things that prevented us from eating grilled cheese sandwiches today:

1) I cut the not pre sliced bread in a crooked way and I am not ready to look at that mistake again just to make a sandwich made of bread and cheese and,

2) I like to save my sandwich consumption for sandwiches that matter, like hamburgers and chicken biscuits from Whataburger (a fast food restaurant in the southern United States). R does make good grilled cheese sandwiches, however, in his defense.

So, we ate chicken and red pepper stir fry over boiled rice. I got over zealous with the pepper, so it was a little spicy. R approved.

Then, I went out to the store. I went to one of the expat stores on Victoria Island. I saw this broccoli crown, which I photographed to write about. This ONE head of broccoli is about the equivalent of $10USD. I didn’t buy it, but I sure wanted to. I can’t wait to eat reasonably priced broccoli, ideally some that is cooked by some body damn else that is not me.

When I exited the store, a beggar came up and was trying to talk me into giving him some money.  I have been warned about doing that, so I just smiled and said “God bless you.” I came very close to saying “May the force be with you ” as an accident because I have been binge watching all of the “Star Wars” movies. I’m sure the beggar would have thought I was weird if I had said that . 

The funny thing about the guy was how he talked. He was talking like he was throwing his voice or making a funny, Smurf like sound with his voice, like doing it on purpose. 

Do Nigerians watch “The Smurfs”?

I have no idea, but now I’m curious.

Perhaps tomorrow will be more exciting.  For dinner, we had stale taco shells and taco meat. R seasoned the ground meat and although the meat was salty and the shells were very stale and our icecream tasted more like ice than cream, I guess I was happy to have those things to eat.

Hopefully tomorrow our food will be better. Maybe I’ll go back and buy that  $10 broccoli.

Until tomorrow, my friends…

Unacceptable Doors

One of my favorite morning past times is to get up and read news on the internet.

I like to read about everything from what a Kardashian wore to eat kale salad to what the leader of the free world said about Russia, or what he did NOT say about Russia.

It’s my morning ritual; I do it while drinking tea and honey, usually with a light snack since I am not big on eating breakfast.

This morning, my news reading was interrupted when my paltry doorbell rang. The poor door bell sounds like a dying bat. I almost did not get up to answer it; some part of me knew that foolishness was awaiting on the other side.

One of the things I dislike about living on this camp is the ridiculous maintenance schedule. While I appreciate that someone is assigned to come lube the door hinges, I dislike that the chap shows up whenever he feels like it.

I mean, REALLY? Perhaps I’m bored or a little stir crazy or both, but a guy that comes to spray WD40 on all of the doors and cabinets  (yes, he inspected every single one) seems both absurd and hilarious at the same time.

When the guy was attempting to check the upper kitchen cabinets, he required a step stool, which I do not have. He proceeded to move my dish rack out of the way and scoot his little dirty butt all over the countertop in an attempt to reach all the cabinets.

The humorous part in this is that several MONTHS ago, I put in a work order request for someone to actually come and fix a damaged kitchen cabinet door. Someone came and rigged it up (if you can call it that) and left. I suppose I should have just waited until today, when the official door and hinge inspection happened.  Foolishness!

Here he is, carefully using his screw driver to move my bowls out of the way for some reason.

 

And here he is, inspecting other doors:

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Perhaps tomorrow they will send someone to inspect my sanity. I will tell them that it’s all gone, unfortunately.

Until tomorrow, my friends…

Moving Day in Camp

Living abroad is a strange experience.

I may be having a very particular kind of expat experience because of my location, but I imagine that for any expat, anywhere, living away from home, where things are familiar and easily understood, some of the most mundane things can become quite entertaining.

So, when I heard lots of beeping and backing up and shouting a couple of weeks ago, I rushed over to the window to see what was happening. Turns out, the folks across the street was getting their shipment delivered.

I was not in the country when our shipment was delivered; R was here and he managed to both wrangle the workers and make sure things were in place.

Lots of people have asked me how my stuff was moved here from Houston. Here’s a short version of what happened, ommitting the details associated with immigration and the weeks long process of mentally telling yourself that yes, it’s ok to ship many of your belongings to a VERY foreign country.

PROCESS

  1. Go insane and decide to move to Lagos.
  2. Assure friends and family that you are in fact NOT insane. Repeat as necessary.
  3. Go through your things and decide on the things that won’t go to the new country. For me, I left antique furniture, childhood memorabilia, and my most beloved “possessions”, my cats, at home in America, where I felt they were most safe.
  4. Schedule a time for professional movers and packers to come pack up your belongings.
  5. Watch as they pack up your extensive collection of cast iron and wooden letter stamps faster than you bought them at the store.
  6. Wrangle cats to ensure none of the actually end up in a box or escape the apartment.
  7. Waive bye to your stuff and sleep on an air mattress after ordering Thai delivery because now all your sh*t is gone.
  8. Wait 3-6 months.
  9. Greet Nigerian Santa Claus when he arrives with your shipment.

 

As I previously mentioned, I was not here when the shipment arrived, but I was here to record this video when the folks across the street received their shipment. It was quite entertaining to watch. This video shows the guys loading the container back onto the flat bed truck after it has been emptied.

Enjoy the video!

Oh, and I want to say thank you to everyone who has subscribed to the blog or if you have read it once or every day. Thank you so much.

A special thank you to my mom, who reads this blog EVERY SINGLE DAY.  MOM: Your encouragement and knowing that you read my blog has renewed my love for writing and given me new found confidence in my abilities to tell a story. ❤

Here’s the video:

 

Arriving Back in Lagos

Arriving back in Lagos at 5:15 am was both a blessing and a curse.

Blessing: Plane didn’t crash; safe arrival.

Curse: Plane arrived in Lagos.

Coming back to Lagos after over a week in one of my favorite places in the world was no easy task. It took all of my strength and mental fortitude to board the plane. But, I knew that Lagos would have some of her well known craziness just waiting to welcome me back.

Let me regale you with some stories of foolishness, Back in Lagos, Day 1:

Getting off the Plane:

The woman sitting in the row in front of me asked for my assistance in retrieving her oversized, over stuffed, knock off Louis Vitton bag from the overhead compartment. She’d put the big, stupid bag in the compartment two seats behind her for some reason.

“Your bag is really too small for the stuff that’s in it. It’s way over full,” I said as I struggled to get it. She reached up to try to help me. I nastily said, “I will do it or you wait and do it yourself.”

^ I am not usually such a short tempered person, but you know, when in Lagos. It also annoyed me that her bag was knock off Louis Vitton; just buy your bags at Wal-Mart (or whatever the equivalent is here) like a decent person. Don’t support counterfeiters, but whatever, I will get off my moral high horse.

Her next bag was a blue, hard sized roller bag. I laughed when she asked for assistance with that one. I impolitely informed her: “You will have to wait on that one.”

Her jackass of a companion, who had listened to several videos OUT LOUD on his phone during the flight, eventually came along and retrieved the blue bag.

When it was time to go, I snipped at R: “Come on R! You’re back in Nigeria and you’ve got to fight! Did you forget?”

Yes, I said that, out loud, on land in Lagos, in a plane full of Nigerians. I’m sure most of them agreed with me in their heads and hearts. R quickly remembered that we’re not in London anymore and it was time to get aggressive in order to get through the line to get to immigration.

Since the plane was full of Nigerians, the line for the non-Nigerian passport holders was blissfully short. It only took about 10 minutes to get through the line. Every other time I have traveled here, it has taken a minimum of 30 minutes to get through immigration. That time can be compounded as the guards allow Nigerians to cut the line to be serviced first, even though there are two lines devoted to Nigerian passport holders.

After making it through immigration with no fanfare, we waited on our bags. I went to the toilet and two women inside who were the attendants asked me for a blessing (that’s Nigerian slang for a “tip”).

I told them I had nothing, and they both began to tell me about how they have not been paid for 2 months and how they had nothing to eat last night.

One of the ladies was wearing heavy eyeliner and lots of decent looking makeup and a wig. The other lady was wearing decent looking weave. I thought, “No money for food but better hair and makeup than me?” I asked, “Why do you continue to come back here if they do no pay you?” They told me they had no where else to go. I thought that was an odd answer, so I just excused myself.

Later, I wondered if they were just making up the story about not being paid in 2 months. I wondered if I was being judgmental about them. So, I decided to do a Google search for news stories about workers not being paid. I actually found several, but this is one of the latest ones I found, in case you’d like to read about this in more detail, and from a more reputable source than an American reciting what I was told by 2 bathroom attendants.

Nigerian Has a Culture of Not Paying Its Workers and Its Not Going to Change Anytime Soon

After the bathroom fiasco, we got our bags and attempted to make it through the security search. The bags are searched for “security purposes” (emphasis on the quotation marks).

Let’s be frank here: White people or any other non-Nigerian looking people are searched; Nigerians are not.

Now, it’s ok to be a nationalist and take care of your own and show preference to your own people. BUT, being on the other side of the unfair treatment REALLY SUCKS.

So, today, when I was asked what was in my bags, I answered in circular logic until the customs official got annoyed and waved me out, angrily telling me to “Just leave.” Thanks, dude.

My brown skin helped; my accent probably did not. I am not a rule breaker; I never bring un-allowed things into any country. But, I openly hate being treated like a lesser than person because I am not Nigerian. I also openly hate to see R treated like an even lesser person because he is not a Black person.

The rest of the day was uneventful and thankfully, I was able to catch up on a lot of sleep and drink a gallon of water.

Here are two videos that I took on the bus ride home. Leaving the airport so early in the morning allowed the bus driver to drive like a bat out of hell. Or should I say a bat out of Lagos. Ha!

Enjoy the videos and until tomorrow, my friends…

London: Lost Stories 

As I sit in the airport, about an hour before my plane departs to go back to Lagos, I am still reeling in the fun, exciting, and joyous time I have had in London, England.

Even though there’s a very cute, but crying, baby nearby attempting to drown out my happy thoughts with his calls for whatever the hell babies need, I am still so happy to be sitting here, at the tail end of my London adventure.

Of course there were many photos that I did not get to share throughout the week. Let’s take a look at some of them and learn the story behind them now.

We took the Tube, aka the public subway, to The O2 venue both times.

This cool sign was hanging out near the train, greeting the John Mayer fans. It’s so cool that whoever wrote it went to the trouble of incorporating his song titles into the notice.

This was another sign that I saw in the Tube. I can personally testify that the British are unfailingly polite. Even the biggest asshole I met (a guy working at a Tube station) was a downright gentleman compared to other asshole of other cultures I have encountered. 

So, with that being said, London is not messing around with you and your sass when it comes to verbally abusing public servants.

This is a photo of the giant fish head knockers that are on several walls in the aquarium.  I kind of want one for my door at home.

This is a very handsome bird that was basically posing for photos outside of the aquarium. 

This video shows the view from the Thames Clipped, a boat that I think is part of the public transportation system. The Thames Clipper sailed by this warship. I don’t know the name of the warship, though. It was a lot of fun riding the Thames Clipper.  The seats are comfortable and plush, even for a fat American like me.

This video shows a boat cruising under Tower Bridge. You may remember seeing Tower Bridge opening and closing in a previous post.

This is one of the buildings near The O2 venue. I didn’t go inside, but I think it houses other shops and restaurants. 

The O2 is on a peninsula and the area has that kind of new age feel, like it’s where the cool kids and low on cash but creative people live. It’s like a whole other London, less old buildings and lots of new buildings with exciting looking exteriors. But the area still has the same polite people as the rest of London. 


Ok, I will keep digging through the archives and see what else I failed to share. 

Until tomorrow my friends…

London Days 8 and 9 aka JOHN MAYER IS LIFE 

I have not written in two days for good reason. 

On Thursday, May 11, 2017, I got to check off one of my biggest bucket list items: I got to see the incomparable John Mayer in concert.

My life is now complete. Go ahead and throw me from Tower Bridge because the rest of life just HAS to be all downhill from here, right?

Let me share some photos and snippets. The concert was at The O2. Leave it to the Brits to design such a lovely and beautiful and well organized venue.

View of The O2 from afar.

I have loved John Mayer for over 12 years. His song, “Why Georgia” inspired me to move from Louisiana to Texas all alone. The quiet joy that he sang about in “leaving it all behind” is what I thought I would experience when leaving Louisiana.  I felt those feelings and so many more.

Over the years, he has remained my favorite artist and I own all of his recordings except the last album, which I didn’t buy because I thought it’d be nice to hear those songs first while he played them live. I was right. It was such an amazing experience to hear so much of his new music live.

Here are a few snippets from the concert.

Here, he’s playing one of my favorite songs, “Gravity.”

More clips!

The phone audio and video cannot do him justice. His guitar skills are absolutely masterful.

Once I told a colleague at work that I wanted to learn to play the guitar like John Mayer and he laughed and said “Uhhh well you would have to become REALLY GOOD.  Do you think you could get that good?”

At the time, I took offense to his low belief in my abilities but both then and now I knew he was right. John Mayer is one of the best guitarists and song writers of my generation. 

We returned to the O2 on Friday. I bought more concert merchandise and saw the “Fast and Furious 8” movie. I think I have found my new favorite place in London.

Yesterday, I noticed this gorgeous, metal obelisk thing outside.

Here is the “cream tea” that I ordered at a place called Square Pie. I went there thinking they served square shaped, sweet pies, but I was wrong. They did serve savory pies, like kidney and onions pie, and cream Tea, which was black tea with milk and sugar served with scones, clotted cream and strawberry jam.

Clotted cream is like if lightly whipped cream and butter had a baby.

Today, Saturday, is my last day in London. 

I am so thankful to have had the chance to stay here for so long. I have learned that I’m tough enough to survive in a big city, ride public transportation , and survive on poorly seasoned food.

But even with the cardboard food, London is still made sweet by its history and absolutely lovely inhabitants. 

I love London and Londoners!

See you soon, London…

It’s back to Lagos for a bit.

Until tomorrow, my friends…

London Day 7

Another exhausting but gorgeous day in London!

Since I’m tired again, I will write a post similar to the one from yesterday.

Today’s itinerary:

1) Took a black taxi to the tour bus pickup.  We had to be there for 7:45 am.

2) Rode the tour bus to Windsor Castle. The Queen was in, but if course we didn’t get to meet her. All of the exhibits we saw did not allow any photography inside, but believe me that Windsor is worth a visit. I’ve never been in a more grand place.



2a) We had a disgusting lunch on the bus. The sandwich was wheat bread, something like flavorless BBQ sauce with tiny onions, cheese, and cucumber.  Served with water, raisins, and cookies. They might as well just given us the cardboard box it came in and told us to eat it. 

Also, by chips, I mean potato crisps, for all the British people who may be reading this.

3) Rode the bus to Stonehenge. I wish we had more time there, but I enjoyed the 90 minutes or so.


4) Rode the tour bus to Bath.  What a lovely, English city. 



5) Rode the tour bus to Lacock, another lovely, English city.


6) Arrived back in central London at approximately 8:00 pm and ate at a terrible restaurant called Taste of China. It was the worst food and service I’ve experienced here in London. BLAND and uninspired good and an absent minded waitress.

One of the highlights of the trip was when a group of 5 people were 20 minures late getting back to the bus after one of the stops.

The tour director, Pete, directed us to clap for them as they entered because they had finally made it.

Although that would have been a cheeky and passive aggressive way to acknowledge their tardiness, I decided to be a full on American asshole. So when the men entered the bus, having walked a full minute ahead if the women and children, I BOOED. And got damn I BOOED loudly and with eyes on them and drew a second breath to continue my booing. 

I should be ashamed at the pleasure that gave me, but I am not and to hell with tbem. Let’s just say that the rest of the tour was timely and I’m still unashamed of my booing. I think I did a great service to the rest of the bus. 

The tour guide must have agreed because be gave me a fist bump at the end of my booing.

Needless to say, I didn’t make any friends today.

Until tomorrow, my (maybe?) Friends…

London Day 6

Whew! It was a tiring day and tomorrow will be a very long day.

I’m exhausted so I’ll just write the activities and then share more details later.

1) Breakfast at McDonald’s 

2) Travelled to Westminster area

3) Ground photos of Big Ben (it’s closed for repairs until 2020)

4) Rode the London Eye

5) Ate terrible and BLAND food at restaurant near the London Eye 

6) Visited the London Aquarium 

7) Rose the bus back to the hotel; ate dinner, watched uncensored Hell’s Kitchen  ( lots of cuss words)

Oh! I forgot that I dropped off laundry this morning!

I only brought a carry on sized suit case of clothes, so I had almost ran out of ckirges. Thanks to Google, I was able to find a laundromat that was less than a mile away!

They told me to come back at the end of the day and when I picked up my clothes, to my utter delight, they’d been washed and meticulously folded and put in little bags.

All for only  £14.95 which is about $19.33!

Got to get up early tomorrow to go to

S T O N E H E N G E

I’M EXCITED 

Until tomorrow my friends…

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