"Update your blog, biyotch"

The title is a direct quote from my loving, eldest brother.  Thanks, Ger.  Anyway, this biyotch is blogging, ok?!

So, Day 2--the rains came.  And man, it just did not stop.  My plan was to take the Big Bus Tour (you know, touristy, double-decker, red bus deal) all the way around town to get my bearings and then figure out what I wanted to check out.  Yeah--that did not happen.  I have no problems being a tourist but I refuse to be one of those crazed take no prisoners tourists who will don the plastic poncho and work that double decker.  Uh uh, no ma'am, that is no what we do.  So I did what I do whenever it rains and I have no pressing matters...I take my sweet ass time.  I took a super-long shower and was pleasantly surprised to find out that my hand-held shower head was not alone in there--I looked up and saw a magical gigantic waterfall shower head mounted to the ceiling.  Thank you, God.

After extensive cleansing and primping (for no reason at all), I wandered in the direction of the closest tube station, Paddington.  By now it was late enough to consider lunch and still pouring so I walked into a cool looking brasserie called Phi, which is attached to the overpriced Hotel Indigo.  They had low, modern furniture upholstered in this trippy striped fabric.  I ordered a 3-course prix fixe lunch, whipped out my Time Out London, and settled in to avoid the rain.  Food was decent.  The place was cuter than the food was tasty, but not too bad.

After avoiding the inevitable for as long as I could, I went back out and figured it was time to get the whole cell phone situation taken care of.  I went into Paddington Train Station to look for a Vodophone or other similar store and unfortunately, found one.  The guys in there were total douche bags and not helpful at all.  When I brought out my phone and sim card (on loan from Tita Ina) and asked how to use it, they basically said to "put it in like normal and call this number."  Wow.  Thanks.  Realizing that they were not going to be helpful in any way, I went in search of Carphone Warehouse.  When I asked the newspaper man where it was, he pointed out directions and then helpfully added, "but ya know it's pourin out, right?"  Yes, thanks.  Five minutes later, I had found my destination and hoped for the best.  This time I hit the jackpot--a nice woman who felt my pain and helped me to set everything up, buy what I needed, etc.  Good times.  So, when in Europe and in need of a local mobile, I urge you to avoid the Voda jerks and head for Carphone Warehouse.

With new phone in hand, I headed back to the hotel to charge that bad boy so I could be prepared when Felicia called.  We planned to meet for dinner in Soho.  I plugged the phone in, started playing with settings and the manual and next thing you know, I'm startled awake from a hard sleep by the text msg buzz.  It's Felicia telling me she just left work.  Well shit!  Looks like that jet lag found me.  Panicked bcs I'm supposed to take the tube to get to her, and I hadn't gotten my ticket or looked at a map or anything (and knowing how confusing the NYC subway can be to a first-timer), I hauled ass out of there.  Of course, it was still raining, but what can you do.  (My trench coat, compact, yet sturdy umbrella and Ugg boots were the best things I could've brought on this trip.)  Thank God the London tube ended up being sort of like, NYC Subway Lite.  I went to the ticket man bcs the booths confused me, and the nice man gave me my card and told me the easiest route to my destination.  As I went to the escalator, another uniformed man was calling out directions to random travelers.  I got to the platform just in time to see my train pull out of the station.  Settling in for a long NYC wait, I sat down on a bench and was immediately shocked to find another train pulling into the station.  Cra-cra!  I was still stressed bcs I only had 15 mins to meet Felicia and about 4 stops to go--little did I know the tube moves at the speed of light and I was perfectly on time.  The London Tube is also weird in that it's like sitting in a tiny upholstered waiting area.  I dunno.  It's weird.  And HOT and stuffy.  Even when it's not crowded. Anyway...

I met Felicia in Oxford Circus and that place was insane!  People everywhere--like NYC Times Square on a sunny summer day.  Except it was like, 20 degrees and pouring rain out.  After fighting our way through the crowds, Fi pulled us into the Carnaby Street area to look for an appropriate place to eat.  I don't know how to describe it other than to compare it to the NYC Soho--it's very similiar.  We wandered around and eventually decided on an interesting looking place called "The Living Room."  It seemed normal enough and I was excited to try their random food.  Fi and I shared (I use the term "share" loosely since Fi doesn't eat) a couple small plates--Wok fried Edamame and Ginger (reeeaaally good) and a hummus and pita (eh...Astoria Greek is better).  Fi got a salad (surprise) and I decided to get two starters for my meal so I could check out their "high end" food.  I ordered Roast Saddle of Rabbit w/ Crisp Acorn Fed Ham and a Cider Cream and Prawn and Crab Cake with Crispy Shallot Rings and Cucumber Salad.  Yeah...fancy right?  I mean, I'm all about satisfying my inner foodie but I have to admit I was disappointed.  The rabbit was really dry and just blah.  The salad--really more like a garnish--that was served with it was the best part.  Sort of sesame tasting and honestly I never tasted the Cider Cream.  The Prawn and Crab Cake was better but it sort of didn't work.  I dunno.  I guess I just expected more.  I have to say the place is really cool though.  It's sort of huge and there's a VIP lounge and a big bar.  The best part though, is the bathrooms.  Yes, the bathrooms.  I asked the hostess where to go and she said, "go down the stairs and look for the shoe."  Yes...the shoe.  Ok.  Whatever.  I head downstairs and am a bit taken aback as I see only paneling and no doors, but considering there's a huge sink basin in the middle of the room, I assume bathrooms must be somewhere.  So I look for the shoe.  I looked up and literally saw a man's shoe coming out of the wall.  I blindly pushed at the walls until one swung open and realized by the smell before the sight, that this was certainly the mens room.  But then where the hell was the women's room?!  Slightly panicked now (what if someone comes down and sees me looking like a dear in headlights desperately needing to pee?) I'm searching the room for another shoe and FINALLY see a high heel coming out of another wall, almost blending in.  Annoying.  I walked in and knew I had found the place.  But that's not where the adventure ends.  For those of you who know me, you know I LOVE a kitschy bathroom.  Case in point, the fantastic toilets at Vynl Diner in Hell's Kitchen.  I try and take everyone I know there and encourage them to use the bathroom....more than once.  (If you dont' know what I'm talking about, I obviously need to take you there and soon.)  So imagine my glee when I opened a stall only to find the walls completely carpeted in oriental rugs and the back made to look like a bookcase in a study.  There was even old time radio being piped in.  It was awesome.

By this time, Fi had to head back and I took off back for my hotel.  Still raining.  Hard.  Overall, not a supremely eventful or tourist-satisfying day, but not a bad way to spend a rainy one...

Let's start at the very beginning...

Let's start the very beginning...(but not the back story of planning the trip or events leading up to it--that's just too much)

The Plane Ride was horrible. About 7.5 hours of pure pain from Newark to Heathrow. I smartly (or so I thought at the time) booked an exit row seat. I love exit row seats--lots of leg room, you can get up to go to the bathroom easily if you need to, no kids allowed in the aisle--it's great. One problem--you can't recline your seat. I don't know if this is an issue if you're the last exit row, but I, alas, was not. Not reclining is not a problem for say a 2, or even 4 hour trip, but 7.5 hours? No ma'am! In the immortal words of the ever-classy, Khia: "My neck, my back (lick it)...". I ached all over and there was not much I could do. I did meet a nice Filipino (of course) from Virginia Beach (double of course) who was very friendly (triple of course, know to be known as "o.c."), a couple seats over from me. We became airport buddies at Heathrow and it was sort of nice to talk to someone in line at Customs and to wait at baggage with. We exchanged info but it remains to be seen if we'll meet again...knowing me, probably not. (Bad, Trish.)

Dot2Dot is this coach service I found online through various recommendations. It's a point-to-point shuttle service that supposedly costs less than half of what a taxi would cost. I went up to the desk to confirm my reservation and was greet by two, quite nattily dressed, older Brits who called me sweetheart and darling, which is never a bad thing. Well, usually not a bad thing. The best dressed of the two (pin-striped dark pants, floral button-down shirt, solid vest, and patterned tie--somehow all came together) actually came over to the general waiting area (not just designated for Dot2Dot customers) and collected us individually and walked us out to the mini bus. He even told us little anecdotes as we walked, one sad one (meant to serve as a cautionary tale), I'll share with you--A young American couple flew into Gatwick airport. They were on their honeymoon. As they left the station, they spotted their coach across the street and stressed about the possibility of missing it, ran across without looking. A large bus caught them unawares and they were hit, run over, and caught in the wheels. The man died instantly and the wife died the next day. Yeah...that's a real downer, huh? His point--"We drive on the correct side of the road. Look both ways. Twice. And be careful, dahlin." Yeah. Anyhoo, back to the ride. Ended up sitting across from a woman from Houston, TX. Nice lady who works in the oil business...she was also blonde, had a thick drawl, and wore ill-fitting clothing. Oh stereotypes. She was also on a "holiday" visiting her friend for a few days. It was nice chatting with her as the 30 min ride turned into a little over an hour bcs of heinous lunch hour traffic. It would've been great if I didn't have the nasty habit of getting carsick. No worries--no upchuck-age involved, just lots of nausea that I, of course, kept to myself. Overall, the service lived up to its hype--comfortable, very easy to use, and while at about $40, it's not the cheapest way to get from the airport into town, for someone coming into a new country off of a long international flight, it was well worth the convenience. I highly recommend them if you're ever in the area.

The hotel was a mix of the expected and unexpected. The Shaftesbury Metropolis London Hyde Park (link) is a little misleading in its name. Sounds very grand, yes? It's set in a row house--one in a long long line of row houses that goes for several blocks of just hotels, guest houses and b&bs. Sort of weird. After much research on tripadvisor and other websites, I chose it for its close proximity to several tube stations and positive reviews and pics online. The lobby is super modern--the walls are black and white stripes and there are pops of orange and blue everywhere. The sofas are cleanlined and bright orange. There's also a huge amoeba-shaped orange light fixture. The ceiling is painted midnight blue and dotted with tiny "star" lights. There's also a couple computers, a gigantic flatscreen tv and lounge area. I'm told there's a gym (a what?) and a restaurant as well. My room was on the 3rd (top) floor and the place is like a maze. From the elevator, a sign pointed me up a short flight of stairs and through a door. From the door I had to turn left down a very short corrider and go down a short flight of stairs down another very short corridor to my room at the end. The room is small (but I expected this) but not quite as bad as I thought it would be...but maybe this is bcs I got a double bed instead of a single (twin) bed. It's traditional but modern so I guess the right term would be "Transitional". Dark woods, gilded mirrors, padded upholstered headboard, printed curtains and bronze sheers. There were a couple nightstands, a little desk and chair (more like a vanity area), a clothing cupboard (closet and shelves) and a little corner station with a hidden microwave, mini fridge, tea kettle, and fresh flowers--a nice surprise. A flatscreen LCS tv also made me feel quite at home. lol. The bathroom is also teeny (again expected) but super cute. The shower is glassed in with a hand-held shower head and the sink is one of those free-standing bowl pedestal sinks. There's about 4 inches of counter space around, but a couple small shelves save the bathroom from being totally inconvenient. Note to self and other travelers, next time bring a hooked toiletry bag--way more convenient. Might have to pick one up. The bed is soft but bcs I'm so used to my pillow-top, I think it's really comfortable. There's a bunch of construction outside my window, but honestly, after living in NY, it's not really a bother. But I suppose I will know tomorrow whether that kind feeling lasts...

For dinner, I met Tita Ina (Mom's brother's wife's former sister-in-law....did you follow that?). She came and met me at the hotel and we walked to a Spanish place she liked in the area (Paddington). After walking in circles a few times, we stopped and asked a waiter and a man on the street if they knew of it. Little did we know, we had just starting talking to Crazy, personified. The waiter simply said no and then Crazy (gray hair, glasses, 50-ish, black leather jacket, salt-and-pepper chest hair trying to escape from his gray t-shirt) asked if we had an address and then interrupted our answer (no) by asking if I knew that he owned 19 hotels. No, I didn't know that. Then he would ask another question, roll his eyes at my Aunt (who was mildly terrified at this point, but still being polite), and then tell me another fun fact about himself....he's a millionaire, old-school gangster...so many things I can't even remember. Then, he grabbed my arm tightly and (of course, interrupting talking again) looks me in the eye and says, "I like you". Somewhere in his insanity he must've realized what that sounded like to a female, and he hastily said, "I mean....not like that but y'know let's get a pint or a coffee somewhere and talk, why don't we?" I politely said no (at this point, I don't even know what Tita Ina is thinking, but I'm sure it has to do with calling the police) and talked to him like he was a small child, explaining that I had to go to dinner w/ my Aunt. He seemed bewildered that I wouldn't accept his invite and repeated his list of attributes again (millionaire, gangster, hotel scion) and I removed my arm from his grasp, patted his arm and said, "I have to go now but I will most certainly tell everyone I know that I met a true gangster, millionaire, hotel owner. Bye" and walked away with my Aunt. She seemed bewildered by the whole experience and simply said something along the lines of it being good that I'm from NY and know how to handle myself. As we walked, Crazy continued to another restaurant where he started telling more unsuspecting diners of his many charms. Eventually, we found out that the place we were after was closed, so we ended up walking around, reading menus, finally deciding on a non-descript Italian place. (Turns out Tita Ina is not so adventurous when it comes to food.) We shared calamari fritti and insalata tricolore (avocado, tomato and mozzarella drizzled in olive oil, salt and pepper) and she ordered something with prawns and I decided to embrace my first official meal of vacation (I forgot to eat lunch) and got the always satisfying, artery-clogging Spaghetti a la Carbonara. After a tiramisu finale and lots and lots of family gossip-sharing, we returned to the hotel. Tita dropped me off at the lobby with my promise of meeting up again complete with family photos (via computer) to illustrate gossip.

Overall, a satisfying first day. Tomorrow, I hope to get on the Big Bus Tour for an overview of the sites. Hope it doesn't rain....