Yes, yes, yes, I know. I was prattling about mudcake skyscrapers and Spider-Man cakes only yesterday, and now... I'M IN ENGLAND! For the first time ever! Wheeeee!
Who's excited? I AM!
Our adventure started this morning, when we tried taking the bypass that connects Rogoredo station (which is conveniently close to hun's home) to Porta Garibaldi.
Because we got here by train. From Italy.
Seeing how airplanes, you know... it's not that I hate them for real. I have only one gripe with them - namely, the fact that they fly.
However.
The bypass train had some kind of problem, so we had to call a taxi to get to the correct station in time. But, we did it! Nothing else could possibly happen, right?
WRONG!
Because once again, our train had some sort of mechanical hiccup - and dumped us all at some unheard-of station among the French Alps, waiting for a replacement train to pick us up.
What was left of our first leg went smoothly afterwards, with our train crossing mile after mile of featureless French landscape...
...until we reached the Gare de Lyon in Paris.
Now before you ask: we did not see anything at all of the Ville Lumière - not that I, personally, cared in the least about it - as we had to madly dash to the Gare du Nord by mean of yet another bypass, which was horribly crowded, but thankfully punctual.
Even while the unexpected stop earlier on had eroded much of our time, we hopped on the next train just in time and enjoyed the ride under the English Channel and...
...TO LONDON!
Now you must understand I've been reading (and fantasizing) about London for so long that the town's largely a literary construct in my mind. Sherlock Holmes and Peter Pan and Harry Potter and Jack the Ripper, oh my!
Actually being there, if just for a few minutes until we picked up our rental car - which was, by the way, a tiny cramped thing, and with the steering wheel on the wrong side as far as we're concerned - it felt, well... awesome.
I squealed at each and every sighting of a familiar location - King's Cross! And Baker Street OMG! - while poor sweetie struggled to come to grips with Great Britain's utterly alien driving system.
I am sorry to say we did damage the rearview mirror first thing. Boo!
Reaching our final destination, deep in the rural Somerset region, took a further two hours, and we were mighty sleepy by the time we got here, super late on our estimated arrival.
Not that the fact prevented us from sampling our first ale right away, mind you!
I'll tell you more tomorrow about this gorgeous place where we're staying - and stuff...
Who's excited? I AM!
Our adventure started this morning, when we tried taking the bypass that connects Rogoredo station (which is conveniently close to hun's home) to Porta Garibaldi.
Because we got here by train. From Italy.
Seeing how airplanes, you know... it's not that I hate them for real. I have only one gripe with them - namely, the fact that they fly.
However.
The bypass train had some kind of problem, so we had to call a taxi to get to the correct station in time. But, we did it! Nothing else could possibly happen, right?
WRONG!
Because once again, our train had some sort of mechanical hiccup - and dumped us all at some unheard-of station among the French Alps, waiting for a replacement train to pick us up.
 |
| Can you see the snow? Geez. SO COLD! |
What was left of our first leg went smoothly afterwards, with our train crossing mile after mile of featureless French landscape...
...until we reached the Gare de Lyon in Paris.
Now before you ask: we did not see anything at all of the Ville Lumière - not that I, personally, cared in the least about it - as we had to madly dash to the Gare du Nord by mean of yet another bypass, which was horribly crowded, but thankfully punctual.
Even while the unexpected stop earlier on had eroded much of our time, we hopped on the next train just in time and enjoyed the ride under the English Channel and...
...TO LONDON!
Now you must understand I've been reading (and fantasizing) about London for so long that the town's largely a literary construct in my mind. Sherlock Holmes and Peter Pan and Harry Potter and Jack the Ripper, oh my!
Actually being there, if just for a few minutes until we picked up our rental car - which was, by the way, a tiny cramped thing, and with the steering wheel on the wrong side as far as we're concerned - it felt, well... awesome.
I squealed at each and every sighting of a familiar location - King's Cross! And Baker Street OMG! - while poor sweetie struggled to come to grips with Great Britain's utterly alien driving system.
I am sorry to say we did damage the rearview mirror first thing. Boo!
Reaching our final destination, deep in the rural Somerset region, took a further two hours, and we were mighty sleepy by the time we got here, super late on our estimated arrival.
Not that the fact prevented us from sampling our first ale right away, mind you!
I'll tell you more tomorrow about this gorgeous place where we're staying - and stuff...
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