Time Out London (1)

Though I have enjoyed what I’ve done in London, the week has been a bit rough and I wish I was able to get out there and do more. I arrived on a cloudy Tuesday afternoon to meet my brother, Leif, for the week. He was here on business for a medical conference, which afforded me the opportunity to stay at the Hilton on a backpacker’s budget! J A blessing since I woke up Thursday morning unbelievably sick. It would have been an interesting experience if I was at a hostel, let alone CouchSurfing… I was confined to the bed and the bathroom for 2 days, and then left with a very uneasy stomach for the remainder of the weekend. It’s now Monday and it’s the first day I feel 100%.

Yes, we are brothers... No, we aren't twins... Come on people!!

Before I was incapacitated by the whirlwind of illness I’ve dubbed the 24-Hour Liquefier, I was able to see a few things. Tuesday, before I met up with my brother, I took a stroll through Hyde Park. The weather was shit, a big surprise, but it was enjoyable to walk about and see the grounds. Considering the temperature and lack of sunshine, the park was quite busy. I can only imagine how festive it would be in the summer months when it warms up. Even though my trip wasn’t even two weeks in, it was really great to see a familiar face. Leaving all my family and friends back home wasn’t easy, but I know they all understand. Unless someone wants to surprise me and come visit (hint… hint…), the next friend I’ll see is 3 months from now. For dinner, Leif and I went to J Sheekey, a seafood restaurant in Soho (a really nice one!). The meal was incredible, but being able to hang out with my brother in London was a new experience that highlighted the night. After an extensive meal of enticing flavors and an exceptionally delectable bottle of French wine, we headed back to the hotel on foot allowing us to enjoy the nightlife of Soho’s finest patrons. At the first stop, the bouncer straight up asked if we knew it was a gay bar. Not knowing whether to laugh at two guys unable to walk into a gay bar unobstructed or the fact that as two guys we clearly did not give off the impression of being gay, I decided to merely say, “Yea, that’s probably not going to work for me. Thanks though and have a good evening.” What would have been a great story is the guy knowingly letting us walk in and figure it out for ourselves. That would have been something to write about! We ended up sliding into a small pub around the corner for a lager before making the 45 minute trek back to the hotel.

Nearly perfect... :(

Wednesday involved walking around Westminster, Soho, and Marylebone to take in sites, such as Buckingham Palace, Westminster Cathedral, St. James Park, Parliament Square, Trafalgar Square, and Piccadilly Circus. I appreciate the historical and cultural significance of all these places, but I really feel out of place when it comes to tourist sites. Here’s why:

You hear the horror stories of tourists visiting other countries and being obnoxious, but they are always hearsay. Well, last night (Sunday) I experienced my first eyewitness account of such an event. I stopped at a Thai place for dinner and I walked in behind this guy who asked the hostess how late the place was open until. Harmless, right? Oh, well, let me go on! In her clear, though broken, English she asked him how many for dinner. He immediately leaned in with his shoulders rolled a bit, raised his hands for visual indicators (I have no idea why… Maybe he thought he could mimic the arms of a god damn clock…), and repeated a little bit more forcefully exactly what he had said the first time. We’ll give the guy the benefit of the doubt, because perhaps she didn’t hear him the first time. She looked at him quizzically. He then cocked his head a bit and realized that, JUST MAYBE, there was a communication glitch somewhere between the two of them. However, he really didn’t make the situation any easier when, for the third time, asked the EXACT same question. To his credit, he added a single word… with emphasis… C-L-O-S-E. I can only attribute the Thai hospitality to this guy not having a broken nose. Hell, I wanted to punch him in the face! She politely said 11:30 and the guy abruptly turned around and walked out without saying another word. She looked at me and asked how many. I held up a single finger and said, “Uno, por favor.” Yes, that guy was American.

Gah… Now I’m upset! I’m going to take a break and come back later to write.