...exit the aircraft onto a bus and transported to Terminal 3 at Heathrow Airport. "Welcome to Britain" reads the sign, and my thoughts are to get my luggage ASAP and change these $ to
£. (The exchange $1.98=£1) So I make the change to the Queens money, and lug my bags to the train. I'm off, and after about a 4 hour delay, confusion, mistakes...its a long story, I made it to my destination. The Queen Mary University Accommodation is my address for the next 3 weeks; and from what I've heard about the average cost of flats here in London, I've made the perfect arrangements. Plus, I don't have to share my space or bathroom. I have a single room, and it's well kept. >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>I have errands to run, but I'm very weary. I feel it best to nap before I head back out. A lovely nap does the job, and around 7pm, I'm ready to leave--though I fear the shops I'd like to visit may close. With no TV in the room to divert me, I hit the road anyway.
Walking to the tube (the subway), I see a bus with the name of my destination. So feeling adventurous, I hop on and head westbound to Oxford Circus. (You can compare Oxford Circus to a teenage version of Times Square, NYC. )As an American, my ear enjoys the chatter of the English. I mumble imitations of their dialect under my breath. ( I so want to master it.) Page 3 of "The Sun" (a tabloid) shows a new nude girl each day. (Right on page 3. And its not a naughty magazine either, hidden behind the others for adult eyes only. This is a regular periodical.) I've spotted about 5 Bentley's on the way. (Are they giving out those whips for
free?) Many cars are old classics, like in a James Bond "007" movie; and many cars are so small, they remind me of the cars used by UCLA PD to give out parking violations. (They call them smart cars. The rumor is that you can ride 4 weeks on one tank.) Also, Mercedes makes a lot of commercial vehicles. So, the dump trucks and buses, cabs and trains have the Mercedes logo.There are a lot of (east) Indians in London. There culture is rich here. They work everywhere and the cool thing, is London is very accommodating to them. They even have a hit Indian song on the radio.
Everyone dresses up. No J-Lo sweatsuits in site.
£, £, £, I type on my keyboard. Things are so expensive. Pounds, pounds, pounds! I am very tempted to spend my entire allowance on the first day. I am in the fashion capital after all. But, I hold off. I need to purchase a UK sim card for my stay. But as I suspected, the phone shop has closed, so I think it best to find the location of my job. (I may as well since I have to report to them early tomorrow morning.)
Well, its a good thing I searched today...because no one can find the street. Does it even exist? People are acting as if it doesn't. I've asked a dozen people, and no one knows of Great Marlborough Street. Finally, I find the street, after an hour up and down the road; but I don't find the building. I'm hungry, so I make my way back to the tube, and head home.
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I see a fast food restuarant the reminds me of a mom & pop store in NY. (And if you know anything about NY, you know you avoid McDonalds and Burger King, Subway and T.G.I.Fridays--by the way all of those chains are here in the UK--and you find some burger joint for a better taste and a better choice for your pence (penny).
I stop in and stay away from the hamburgers, for it may really be a lamburger. But if says chicken, it surely must be; so I get a chicken sandwich and head back to my dorm.
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