Scotland... Almost.

As you know from the taste I gave you when I got back, I spent last weekend in Scotland. It was a tour that I purchased through Arcadia before arriving, and as such it was with 50 American students studying at various UK universities, all from random US universities, studying abroad through Arcadia like me. Three of the other people studying at Royal Holloway through Arcadia with me also went on the trip: Audrey, Jenn and Briana.

The Arcadia plan was to leave for Edinburgh by train via King's Cross at 8 am on Friday. Of course I had two classes on Friday, even though I had no other classes the rest of the week (the history department had a 'reading week' and canceled all classes). Also, it would have been a real hassle to leave from Egham trying to make it to King's Cross in London by 8 am. Instead, the four of us from Royal Holloway headed into the city on Thursday afternoon, then stayed the night at a hostel near the train station (Arcadia had actually given us vouchers for the place back in January, so it was free!).

So Thursday night began the journey. Jenn and Audrey split off from Briana and I early on, so it was just us two to figure out what to do in London on a Thursday night when we knew we had to get up around 6:30 the next morning. We decided to tackle dinner first, and set off looking for a pub. The first one we walked into was absolutely packed. Not a seat in the house. Figuring there had to be other places we continued our search. In that search we stumbled across another place. Packed. As we walked we came to a location where you could stand in the doorway of one McDonald's and look at the other McDonald's no more than 60 yards away. I realize they were separated by a bizarre intersection comprising many lanes of traffic, but I couldn't help but think Lewis Black would have something to say about a McDonald's across the street from a McDonald's. Kept walking. Found another pub... too expensive.

By now we're starting to get discouraged. As we walk down the street, headed back to the original pub to see if a seat has opened up we pass a group of people on a street corner waiting to cross. As we turn our backs to them we hear the scream of a wild banshee and turn to see a crazed rotund woman in a skirt barreling towards us, eyes wild, arms flying. Needless to say we are mildly confused. As she nears us she valiantly attempts a flying ninja kick. The kick fell short. I don't know if the near-miss was the intentional product of the fact that she did not really want to kick us, or if it was the unexpected result of the force of gravity on her large frame. Either way, I'm glad the kick was short. For some reason neither Briana nor I flinched; it was over in a matter of seconds and we were back to walking, dazed by the impact of the lunacy that had just targeted us. This is why I can't live in a city.

Upon arrival at the original pub we were relieved to find... just kidding, it was full still. Now we're really hungry and head to this pub that looked from the outside like it was absolutely packed. Nevertheless, upon entry it had seats available, and reasonable prices so we sat. Grateful to be sitting we took our time choosing off the menu, and then Briana went to order, leaving me to jealously guard our table. She returned moments later with the news that somehow the pub had run out of the food necessary to make 2/3 of the items on their menu. Essentially we could have the most expensive food they offered, or we could leave.

Outside we were now really discouraged, and were about to settle for buying some snacks at a "Food and Wine" store and moving on to our next destination. As we wandered we spotted a faint glow down a side street we passed maybe 4 or 5 times during our search that night. So we went to see. The glow was emanating from a little pub called the Boot. We looked at the food prices. Incredibly reasonable (for Britain, especially London). We knew that as soon as we opened the door we would be met by a massive crowd of people, filling the tables and crowding the bar, just like all the other pubs. We braced ourselves and opened the door. A couple groups of people were scattered around half the tables laughing and enjoying a meal or a pint, and the bartender was calmly cleaning the bar, at which nobody was waiting. There was a man, presumably the owner, in the back corner of the pub with papers scattered about him, working. A dog lay silently and obediently at his feet, untethered and undisturbed by the incoming strangers. We ordered our food and sat down at a table. Briana and I were taken aback. If we walked a city block in any direction from the Boot we would have found 2 or 3 pubs all crowded and loud, and possibly without food apparently. Yet here was this idyllic little pub in the middle of it all, almost tauntingly perfect. It was straight out of a moving... the dog in the corner just completed it!

And that is the story of my favorite pub in London.

From there we hopped on the tube and took off for the Westminster stop to see the Houses of Parliament/Big Ben and the Eye at night. I've seen them multiple times now, and at night once (during my first few days here, even), but I never had my camera. So it was time to play tourist. See pictures above!

That took a lot longer than I expected... you can see why I say writing this is going to be an epic. So that was Thursday night; the rest was occupied with sleeping. The next three days were Scotland. Which will come later, because I have to go make dinner.