Oddities (to me, at least) abound in London, and I love it. I feel like a six-year-old kid on Christmas day, tearing into a present. Staring out the windows of the train with giant saucer eyes, wandering down the street almost bumping into people because I'm not at all paying attention to where I'm going... etc.
The most intriguing thing about last night was our experience going to get Indian food. There's a street (Brookline, I think Rachel, my new London friend, said) that has Indian restaurants lining both sides. As you walk down the street, gentlemen stand outside the doors enticing you to come dine with them, attempting to lure you in with promises of a free round of drinks, or a discount, perhaps. Not so weird in and of itself, but you can actually barter- and barter they did. Morgan, Rachel's flatmate, and his girlfriend Lucy, took the lead, and after several offers they turned down, snagged us 30% off our meal, a bottle of wine, and a beer for Morgan. So, after some amazing Chicken Korma and Garlic Naan (don't worry, I didn't find any cute London boys.. /tear), we strolled around a bit more and took the Tube back to their flat, where I promptly passed out on a mattress.
Oddly, not once did someone say "Oh, you have such a strange accent, are you American???", which made me secretly happy. I took my camera out twice in London- I think I'm at the point where I don't want to be a tourist anymore. I'd rather just wander around and people-watch....
Oddly, not once did someone say "Oh, you have such a strange accent, are you American???", which made me secretly happy. I took my camera out twice in London- I think I'm at the point where I don't want to be a tourist anymore. I'd rather just wander around and people-watch....
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