Stage Three - London

Greetings followers,
How fortunate that I had gone on a previous reconnaissance mission to London in 2007, because after the excitement of the States and Canada, I slept for the first three days I got there.
We-ell, in the interests of complete honesty, that’s not strictly true. I did get up on the second night I was there because I believed it was imperative to my world domination attempt to see if the youth of London still used their leisure time in the same way they did a year and a bit ago. The youth are, after all, the future. So I pulled on some dark clothes (Toni, my closest London ally, advised me that anything stain-able was not a good idea where we were going) and headed off to the local watering hole.
Upon entry Toni, Vance, Steve and Chloe attempted to impair my judgment and research abilities by dousing me with vodka, tequila, Jagermeister and wine. It worked. Within no time we were the kids who take way more pictures than is strictly necessary for a night at the pub, dancing like we could put Justin Timberlake to shame, and making best friends with two deaf girls (FYI, turns out I still know the sign language alphabet, and also the sign for “man riding a horse.” This hidden skill will come in handy when trying to win over the world’s deaf community). We had been told that at this particular bar, when the ‘90s dance hit “Blow My Whistle” comes on, the female bartenders get up on the bar and take their tops off while cutting some shapes. Being the closet drunken lesbians that we are, Toni, Chloe and I thought this was awesome. Steve and Vance, needless to say, didn’t need a whole lot of convincing. So when we heard the song we pulled our new deaf BFFs into the bar with us for a gander. Their reactions weren‘t quite as enthusiastic as ours‘ were. Let’s just say that I now know the signs for “seriously, this is disgraceful” and “you are uncool.” We didn’t see too much of them after that.
The rest of the night is a blur. Photographic evidence tells me that Vance was dancing with his pants down for a large portion of the night (which I totally missed, even though we were all dancing together. It’s like the time Wairangi Koopu got laid out by that chick right next to me after the TV Awards, and I missed that too). I remember wondering why my sweet sweet dance moves were getting impaired by a sudden lack of balance, and then the lights were on and we were being ushered out. Someone gave me a coat (not mine, but I happily claimed it because I was cold, and then felt terrible when I saw it on the coathook the next day) and we sauntered off home, being stopped by the local law enforcement authorities for throwing street cones (this was Vance - his defense was “Bro, it’s sweet, I’m an Aussie”) and the next thing I knew it was morning and I was concentrating really hard on not hurling (Toni didn‘t manage this concentration technique so well, and yakked on the train to work in the morning). So another somewhat wasted day in the English capital, although I did get to see the Aussie pie shop, the GIGANTIC Westfield shopping centre, finally witness the movie genius that is Superbad, and learn that gluten free Hell Pizza is just as good in London as it is in New Zealand.
The next day, with only two days left before my departure to Germany, I decided enough was enough and it was time to actually begin my England domination. I had learnt everything I needed to know about England from my beloved Jane Austen novels (because they are a full and accurate description of modern England and all classes living within society) so Toni, Vance and I boarded an early morning bus that took us to Austen’s beloved Bath, via Windsor Castle (where the Queen was - hi Lizzy) and Stonehenge. Windsor Castle was beautiful and historic, and the tour guide was right when he said you could happily spend a day there. Saw the changing of the guard, saw the chapel that has many of the dead monarchs in it (including a tomb with Henry the 8th and a couple of other people - presumably one or two of his wives) and saw Princess Mary’s sweet dollhouse. She must have been the happiest kid alive.
Stonehenge I had been told was a bit of a disappointment, so I wasn’t expecting too much, but actually really liked it. It was the source of some minor embarrassment when I made a nasty comment about the couple who were so snap happy that they almost fell on top of me trying to get a photo of Stonehenge through the bus window, when we were about to get out and view it up close, only to turn around mid-bitch and see them standing right behind me. Cough. Awkward moment. Anyway, I’m not sure I could have spent an entire day at Stonehenge as the tour guide suggested, but it was definitely worth a look for an hour or so.
Bath was everything I dreamed it would be and more. I almost wished I did have gout so I could have gone there just to have it cured. Two hours is not enough in Bath, and I would be super keen to go back for a weekend. Toni loved the fact that the whole town was made in limestone (building permits aren‘t given to construct in any other material). Vance loved the fact that there was this natural source of hot water, even though there is no geothermal activity like the kind we have in New Zealand. I loved the fact that there were heaps of fudge shops.
After a massively long day going from London, to Windsor, to Stonehenge, to Bath and back to London, we decided to make it even longer by going for a drink in Piccadilly Circus. First we went to this awesome bar that had more levels that I can even count, but upon deciding that we were too old and the day was already too long to party (and let‘s be honest, still feeling a little hungover from two nights previously), we went to a smaller pub down the road. But everything closes between 11pm and 12am in London. Isn’t that ludicrous? I will rectify this upon domination completion.
The next day, we decided that no domination attempt could be completed without a cultural excursion to Madame Tussaud’s. After glaring heatedly for several minutes at a photographer who just would not move while I tried to get a picture of Vance and Toni with Jennifer Aniston and Will Smith, a staff member came up and said “don’t worry about her, she’s made out of wax too.” Foiled by yet another inanimate object. This is becoming a little bit of a habit on this journey.
We rounded out my London domination with a mass visit to Brick Lane. Brick Lane is this awesome street that is ALL Indian restaurants, and people stand outside trying to convince you to come in by offering you sweet deals. With thanks to the magnificent bartering power of the men folk, we settled on one restaurant that gave us 25% off, no service charge, a free round of beer for all of us, and three bottles of wine. So what if the wine was completely watered down? Toni, Vance, Simon, Andrea, Richie, Amanda, Steve, Chloe, Stefan, Clotilde and I got a huge meal and many drinks for 13 pound each. Magnificent.
And so, another major country has been added to my list of the conquered. Many apologies to the people I didn’t get to catch up with on this visit, including Sarah, Simon Francis, Fiona, Michael and Nick “Thodawg” Thodey. Next time.
Also, for anyone who hasn’t visited terminal five yet, it is AMAZING! Seriously, nothing like the mouldy inefficient Heathrow of old. It’s worth flying British Airways just so you can fly in there (but don’t tell Richard Branson I said that).
Aaaand, finally, a call for advice from my followers. I’m moving into Germany next, which will be my home for the next 10 months. Do you guys think that it is uncool that I’m currently reading The Diary of Anne Frank? Is it a bad look to show up with this particular piece of historic literature in hand? Maybe I should ditch it at the airport…
Until next time loyal subjects,
Stephanie the Still Hungover xo