There’s a famous expression: “When in Rome, do as the Romans do.”
I’m not sure if this means gather your fighting slaves in an Arena and make them fight to the death, wear weird togas and dresses, wage brutal wars to expand your nation, and cover up sex scandals, vilify the victims and victimize the perpetrators. It probably doesn’t. Though most of it sounds fun.
What I gathered from the excellent motion picture When in Rome is that means you should act like an idiot (preferably American), scattering your cultural ignorance and bias around like it’s body glitter in a stripper’s dressing room, not interested in the impact and consequences of your actions as long as you get to nail the incredibly hot Josh Duhamel, whilst simultaneous being convinced you immersed yourself in this (stupid) ancient culture’s traditions and thinking your presence has changed their world for the better forever.
The expression is American, so I’m sure the latter is how they interpret it. But I suppose it means something along the lines of: Act like the locals.
So, when in London…
And Pride we took. So much that it could almost not be contained in our average sized bodies. Next to pride, we also took some splendid pictures. So, if you want to see them all, please click to read below the fold.
Like true tourists we did what the people in London do. Pretty much nothing. We took some excellent pictures, but most of them were made from behind the window of the restaurants we visited. We sat in a dark cinema and watched DVD’s in our hotel room when the sun was shining bright outside. We were locals and we loved every minute of it.
In fact we did love every minute… except the 120 we just experienced before we took this picture. What you see here is complete desperation and confusion…I don’t know how many of you’ve seen (or read, of course) A Clockwork Orange… But Alex DeLarge’s ordeal was a breeze compared to the Twilight: Breaking Dawn pt.1 experience. I think I’d rather die than suffer through that film ever again.
But every trip needs its moment of complete desperation, so the rest glows by comparison. Twilight was my hell. Now that’s out of the way… here are some highlights we saw while eating or walking to another restaurant/pub.
So, yea.. London is pretty. But nothing in it was as pretty as our hotel. Don’t believe me. Well, tough luck. You can go see it for yourself at 1. Suffolk Street when you’re here.
Or… if you don’t feel like flying to London to fact check my story… Here are the pictures.
The Haymarket Experience.
That was the hotel. It was the second best birthday gift anyone ever gave me (the first being my dog)… Unfortunately it set a new standard, so now we have to find an even better hotel to top this one. Sigh. Those pesky first world problems.
That’s almost all, folks. Here are just a few more random shots of the burger place, the two awesomest friends in the world, other things we found on the Victorian streets of London and the last drink the shared at a fake authentic pub at the train station.
Fun fact about this picture. Those fries are the smallest fries in the world. I swear to god. They wear as thin as toothpicks. But they still tasted great and we wolfed them down same as the Burgers. Which incidentally was the best Burger I ate in a very long time (Sorry Wolf). Perhaps because we were tired and had been looking for food and one of us was hung over from enjoying her old age… But man, those were some fine burgers. I just wish I remembered where we ate them so I can go back some time.
After our Burger Lunch we took to the streets of London like a couple of Pros. We discovered that Leicester Square looks pretty much the same as Central Station in Amsterdam does (Boarded up for construction)… But that was fine. That place is pretty much the Leidseplein of London. You don’t want to be there anyways.. But it happens to be where all the cinemas are.
On our way there, we saw this lady walking. Obviously, us being of the awesome persuasion we decided we had to have a picture of it. So here it is; the ass of an old lady covered in fleece kittens. FYI: If anyone finds me this beautiful fleece jacket, I will give him/her my soul. I swear it on my own grave. Look at the pretty cats. I want!
Before we went to the cinema however, we decided to do something slightly more cultural with our time. I’d seen this great poster for an exhibition at the Royal Portrait Gallery and we decided to go there… Mostly because we couldn’t remember where the Tate was exactly, but we knew it was pretty far away.
The Royal Portrait Gallery… Or as I like to call it. Royal Snooze Gallery. Full of (dead) pretentious British royals who looked like Disney villains… and a bunch of crappy pictures.
Just go to the Tate Modern or Saatchi gallery if you’re here. This place isn’t worth your time or the one pound Wez’ payed to get us in to the special exhibition. Besides, the Tate has giant slide going all the way down from the ceiling. That beats staring at old dead guys every day.
Somehow we always end up taking pictures of doorbells, street signs or award-winning gay bars. It was a special moment when we found a doorbell with Matchbox on it. To most people this might seem like an odd thing to enjoy. But there might still be some children of the 80’s who also still love Matchbox 20. Finding their (imaginary) doorbell was a highlight. The word Kapow made it even more surreal… Like we just stumbled into the Adam-West Batman Universe. (If you don’t know what the Adam West Batman Universe is… Shame on you.)
This is what we look like when we are both a bit sleep deprived, and very content the trip is almost over and we don’t have to spend every godforsaken hour of the day together. It turns out, Wez’ is terrible with directions, so with all the kindness I could muster… I brought her to Victoria Station so she wouldn’t get lost…
Yea, all good things must come an end. And for us, it ended here… Outside of the Iron Duke. We had our last drink (Sparkling Water) and that was that. London 2011 trip for Wez’ was over… And my life was back to normal. No longer a tourist nor a tour guide, I went home to get some sleep.
But it was a good Weekend.