23-7-2001
Reading, Berkshire
U.K.

I made it! I arrived this morning around 8 AM. I got to my hotel and slept from 10 AM - 4 PM. Then I woke up and went to The Oracle. It's a shopping mall.

I heard Reading was the Silicon Valley of the U.K. Silly me-- I thought the shopping mall was named after the database company- sort of a sponsorship thing like Ericsson Stadium and Nokia Sugar Bowl. It was actually named for the Oracle at Delphi- from Greek mythology.

It was a beautiful place. The mall was separated by a river. So there were lots of waterfront places to eat. It's funny you are in this foreign land and you see many small, quaint cafes. Then you see a Pizza Hut, McDonalds or Chi Chis all with the same quaint feel. I almost had to laugh.

I ate a delicious supper tonight. I chose one of those cafes, one by the Chi Chis. I had Mediterranean Vegetable Pasta. I liked it a lot.

Spoke to Jay today. I've made reservations at the Moat House in Watford for Thursday and Friday nights so I will be near him. Its 20 minutes from London by train so I should have easy sight seeing Access. I will have to mail Ryan Schutt and let him know my plans.

I surprised myself today. I went to an Internet cafe and purchased 30 minutes of time. It seemed like it would be too much time. I just wanted to check my email. However, Sean was replying to my messages. One message he told me not to waste all my allotted time on him... but that's all I really wanted to spend my time doing. My time ran out and as I descended the stairs with my new U.K. Pepsi bottle, I felt a slight emptiness. I miss him.

Well it is 11:14 U.K. time so I should be going. I hope I can fall asleep.

24-7-2001
Today was my first day of training. It went well and fast. It took me a whole morning to go over just the System and Document Control sections in Kentucky. Today we finished the whole Admin section in the morning. I still had plenty to do - they had installed and transported the demo database and I helped them refresh their system with the blank database. The three admins- Lara, James and Frank (from Ireland) played around a bit and I helped them on and off with their tasks.

They know the agenda tomorrow and how it'll only take 3-4 hours. I think in the afternoon, I'll stay on hand again to help them out.

I wanted to cancel my hotel tomorrow night and stay at the Watford Moat House, but Ryan is supposed to call me here at 5:30. Damn the bugger! :)

It's been a challenge to understand the various accents here. Jay says the accents diminish pretty rapidly-- but even tonight when I ordered supper I asked for some bottled water. The man on the other line said something I couldn't understand. I'm weary of making people repeat themselves. I made the reservation lady at the Watford Moat House repeat herself 3 times last night. So tonight I just replied to the mane, "Either is fine." He then said something again. When he repeated himself again it came out as "A liter or (something)" So he was asking about size! Somehow I managed to get what I was envisioning when I ordered. Frank from Ireland says he's worked in the U.K. many many times and he still has trouble with some of the dialects.

It's hard to write in this journal right now because I've written 5 letters and my thoughts seem redundant even if they aren't documented here.

It's funny. In Blacksburg, I often long from my friends in the D.C. area. But here, I've written 5 letters so far and who are they to?

• Sean
• Brian and Jodi
• Kevin Ledman
• Bill and Melanie
• Aaron Evans

So far only one Nova inhabitant in the bunch! Don't draw conclusions too quickly however. Yesterday at the Oracle Shopping Center I stopped at a store called Clinton Cards. I bought a bunch of them - ones that seemed novel. Many had to do with beer which is why Blacksburg residents were frequent recipients. One card reminded me of Ledman because he refers to ladies as "birds" and one card definitely cried out "AE": It was a WWF card with The Rock on it. It's language was very British - The Rock's weird was not in pounds and it had a section on his Favourite Quotes.

It really doesn't diminish my fancy for my family -- I think I intend on sending them some joint postcards with Jay. I also intend on sending Justin Girton, Brian Nenninger and Tony Airaghi a note as well.

When I finished the last card today I felt a familiar emptiness. With the exception of my journal that was all that was left to write in. It was a similar feeling last night when my internet access ended. My link to my loved ones was severed. I can't wait to contact them again.

I've watched a lot of TV (tele) so far. At first I rationalized it as getting exposed to British culture, but most of what I watched have been shows that originated in the U.S. -- The Simpsons, Futurama, X-Files, Fear Factor [7/29/2001 Note: U.K. actually aired the new episode of Fear Factor that NBC is advertising for tomorrow night]. I've heard Friends, Frasier and Cheers is popular here. And I've seen commercials for Malcolm in the Middle, Ally McBeal and Will & Grace.

Yesterday when being driven from the airport I resisted the urge to volunteer information about the U.S.-- I hesitated because I didn't want them to think, "Arrogant Americans-- thinking we want to hear about their country." But looking at their TV line-up, maybe they do want to hear about it.

It's funny how much of our culture (via music, tele and films) has leaked over here. I know it works vise-versa. I've gotten exposure to the cross over shows-- seeing Britain's original version of Big Brother and The Weakest Link as well as Britain's version of "our" Survivor. But even in shows that originated in the U.K. such as The Weakest Link has U.S. influence. I was surprised how many questions were about the U.S. or U.S. movie stars or about U.S. awards shows.

I must admit, I found it very humorous when a contestant got a question about the U.S. wrong. One contestant guessed California was on the east coast. I snickered even though I barely know where I am at this very moment!

Anthropologists lament how Western definitions of beauty are taking over and dominating the rest of the world. Although personally, I'm happy people aren't stretching out their lips with stones or elongating their necks, I'd generally agree with the anthropologists' dismay. But today-- so very far away from home (I saw a map today and realized how far I was. The maps on the airplane were not to scale) I'm thankful for the commonality. It gives me something familiar- something close to home.

Jason Pitt once wrote about a youth hostel experience. He kept finding strange marking on the toilet seat. Finally he figured it out -- They were shoe prints. Jason's roommate was from India or some country where they stand and crap in a hole. "I guess he felt homesick" Jason wrote.

Speaking of toilets... In the malls and airports you don't see a sign that says "Restrooms" you see a blatant "Toilets" with an accompanying arrow. I'm fond of that. It's not sugar-coated. It's upfront.

I wrote to Sean and described my love/hate relationship with the toilets here. I hate their non-committal flushes. It takes me 2-3 flushes to purge just urine and toilet paper from the bowl of my hotel toilet.

On the other hand, I love the public restrooms here. They are very clean and the stall dividers extend from ceiling to floor. Twice I took a dump in a public place with much ease- despite someone being in the very next stall. I had complete privacy (pronounced prehvehcee) and a great sound and smell barrier to boot. No one could tell with certainty that I was taking a dump.

The Weakest Link asked, "In America's Beavis & Butthead, which one had blond hair?"

I love large window sills. My hotel has one. I like perching on the window sill and looking out and writing.

I wrote Sean today and warned him my vocabulary was changing.

I don't mean I'm using words like flat, canteen, nip, pint, hump, etc. Instead I'm finding my words to be more Americanized. I believe 4 times today I used the phrase "Yada Yada Yada" of Seinfeld fame. I've never used Yada Yada Yada that I recall, but it kept slipping out today. Then here's the worst thing of all. I caught myself saying "You all" but I said it so fast it could have been misinterpreted as "Y'all" The horror!

Today when Lara picked me up at the hotel we walked together to her car. As she was unlocking the door she said, "Do you want to go to the other side?" There I was standing like a goof ball on the U.K.'s driver's side and not the passenger side. D'oh! <-- There's an American term I can work in tomorrow.

Last Saturday Bill and Melanie shared photos of their vacation. It was very enviable-- in the middle of nowhere over a nice lake. They even went horseback riding. Melanie said she got a lot of writing done. That's the kind of vacation I want... but it'd probably be boring to Sean.

Anyway one thing Bill and Melanie discussed was this giant spider on their deck. Every night he'd craft a web by the deck light. Inevitably bugs would fly towards that light and BLAM instant feast. One picture Melanie pointed out, "See, he's not even done with his web yet and he's already caught a few things"

I've seen smart spiders like that before (boy there's a phrase Clint'd detest- smart spider). It's quite intelligent of them to know the bugs will travel towards the light (Uh Oh... maybe that's what awaits us at the other end of that tunnel-- a big web).

I wonder how the spiders figured it out-- was it some form of arachnid market research or do those spiders just stumble upon prime locale? I bet it was planned.

But if that is so-- why haven't the insects with their obscenely fast generation cycles evolved past their light bulb obsession?

Maybe cause not enough spiders have become enlightened. Maybe once there is a spider surrounding each light bulb the weak bugs will be devoured and eliminated from the gene pool. I guess time will tell.

[7/29/2001 Note: There was a spider in my window sill which is how this tangent got born]

Here's something I found of note today. I watched a British breakfast show and they spent a good segment mocking George W. Bush. I guess I was surprised the mockery extended past oceans.

Lara, James and Frank said this past election taught them a lot. None of them knew of the existence of the electoral college before the whole Florida hoopla.

Frank many times announced how Clinton was a real leader and how when he talked people listened. I said little.

Here's another thing I found interesting. Frank complained how too many young people drink in Ireland. Ireland! By young he's talking 18-21. I guess it was funny to see another country disapprove of its youth.

I got to see plenty of another country disillusioned by politics. Much of the lunch time conversation covered the scandalous affairs of politicians that I (being an egocentric, arrogant Yankee) never heard of.

Corruption is not constrained by country.

Handicaps symbols are backwards here and they are orange. Actually I have a sample size of 1 -- an airport parking garage. Speed bumps are called Humps. Yield signs say "Give way". And there have already been a couple of times I've slightly panicked or felt awkward because we were traveling on the "wrong" side of the road. The drivers all know better than I.

The hotel in Reading is nice, but I am a ways away from things to see and do. I have little options without a cab or a car.

I forgot to mention. Yesterday when I was struggling with accents I got into a cab driven by an Arabic man. That man I could understand better than the others! I'm more exposed to his way of speaking in the U.S.!!!

I guess when I spoke of the disintegration of diversity and the spread of Western culture I was jumping the gun a bit. Sunday, Kevin Ledman and I watched some music videos from around the world. They were very unique. Actually the film style and the content was very much like our own, maybe a bit more primitive-- actually the language was the only real big difference with settings behind it. Dang. Maybe diversity is dying but I'm too enchanted with foreign-sounding syllables to take note.

Whoa! A Pizza Hut commercial with what I think They Might Be Giant's "Twisting In The Wind" in the background.

U.K. has their own version of the "Got Milk" ads. Instead it is "The White Stuff - Is It In You?"

Watched a little more of the U.K. Big Brother. I'm much more fond of it than the U.S. version. There are 4 people left - Helen a hairdresser, Dean a guitar player; Brian a gay airline steward and Elizabeth a dancing instructor. I haven't seen very much of it but these four have personalities much more magnetic than the U.S. contestants... or maybe it seems that way because they are not common to me.

25-7-2001
Last day of training went well. Hehe-- at the end I heard Lara say "Yada Yada" in a mocking way. It turned out yesterday was the first time they heard it. She says for now on when they refer to QualTrax and want to say "Blah Blah", they are going to say "Yada Yada Yada."

I feel somewhat responsible-- like I'm the one who unleashed the rabbit in the Australian wilderness where it had no natural predators. I inadvertently encourages the spread of an annoying catch phrase!

I had another bad lunch today. Thinking how much I love feta cheese I ordered a goat's cheese salad. Bleah! That goat's cheese wasn't even suitable to sit on my tongue for a seconds let alone travel down my esophagus! Luckily the cheese was consolidated and confined. It was in one mushy patty sitting on top of the salad. It looked vaguely like it had come out of a tuna fish can. I ate everything except that. I was quite proud. This time my plate looked pretty clean. Then Lara inquired about the cheese. She traded me her chicken for the cheese saying, "I worry about you not eating"

D'oh! But this *was* me eating. I've been doing splendidly with my appetite. Imagine what it would have been like if I lost my appetite.

Her plopping chicken on my plate and expecting me to eat it seems like exactly the same kind of pressure that would normally drive my appetite away-- but chicken was so good I ate it all. It was really good. I hope they are satisfied with their training. They seemed to pick it up very fast-- a lot faster than the Americans I've worked with.

I got back to the hotel pretty early ~4ish. I thought I would take a train down to Windsor and tour that castle. I called a taxi and he took me to the Reading Train Station (£ 7).

There I got a very nice but completely unhelpful ticket teller. I would have to take a train to London, then get on another one to Windsor. The same deal for tomorrow when I go to Watford. But -- he couldn't quote me a price as his machine was crashed. He couldn't tell me what station in London I'd have to go to. He was out of the "leaflets" that documented the various stops. Then he couldn't tell me the website of the trains. Then he told me a map for the trains wasn't on the website because it would be too big to download. Bah! He said I could catch a cheap 9:30 train to London to catch a Watford train.

BUT I got a message that Ryan is going to call at 9-- so I may miss that train now. Maybe this is a sign I should splurge on a taxi.

At the train station with no train to ride, I decided to walk around. What a wonderful decision. It was really easy to navigate this section of Reading. They had little signs everywhere pointing to "Reading Museum", "Town Center" and "The Oracle"

Town Hall/Reading Museum was in a burgundy building with blue trim that resembled a church. After I passed that I saw a real church. There was a walkway snuggled between the two buildings and i could see a cemetery down the end. It seemed like a low profile, quiet place -- one where I could take pictures without feeling like a total tourist. So I took that route.

Like the one I saw in Savannah, this cemetery, this place of the dead, was full of life. People were riding "cycles" through it. People were picnicking there or just sitting there among the graves. Then here's the kicker-- there was a play group or day care out there. A number of small children stood in a circle with their chaperones, holding part of a parachute. They counted and then at the same time they all lifted their section of the chute, propelling a yellow ball into the air. They weren't very accurate and often the ball would fly out and roll past the surrounding graves and a small child would drop his section of the chute and fetch it. They laughed and they giggled.

You know, it doesn't seem at all disrespectful, this play time. It's a bit unusual, but I think if I was spending eternity there I'd very much like to spend some time watching children laugh and play-- fill my decaying heart with glee.

If I'm wrong, I know this-- these children are more respectful than the territory marking dogs I saw in the Savannah cemetery. I took some pictures of the cemetery including one with the children:

The graves weren't all that old, considering how long humans have habituated this island. They dated back into the mid to late 1800s.

The cemetery led right into a well maintained and beautifully landscaped park. There were flowers, meticulously places. There was also a giant lion statue. At the base there were many names categorized by military rank and civilians of some Reading casualties. I assumed this was a memorial of WWII. Later in a bookstore I flipped through a pictorial history of Reading, I learned this was a memorial for the 2nd Afghan War. Man, I didn't even know there was a 1st Afghan War! Though the concept sounds somewhat familiar.

One thing I found stunning about this park is standing back and looking. Seeing this majestic memorial surrounded by colorful flowers and uniquely architectured buildings in the background.

And then-- all around the statue with clanking boards were young skate boarders. They zipped here and fro all around the statue like the insects I just saw flying around the graveyard.

It was a combination of ancient and modern. A combination I would discover not to be unique.

I followed a path that slowly became darker and thinner as the foliage on either side grew taller and thicker. It went a while and I passed a curve and saw a stone structure - much like a gazebo but it resembled a structured cave with symmetric arches. Through the arches you could spy a cathedral or church, as aged, behind it. Then scrawled on the stone inside the structure was modern day graffiti-- of varying meaning, color and species.

Again another mixture of new and old, but quite an effective one. The blend worked. I took a photograph.

I continued along the path and when it lead to a clearing with a fountain and rose gardens (see below), I noticed the path splitting.

The left side twisted down a hill towards what seemed like very unusual stone walls. They must be explored so I followed that path. It went under some construction and there were many barricades warning "protected by guard dogs". There was a still viable path that ran parallel to these strange and erradict stone walls so I kept on. The walls were obviously a structure some time ago. Perhaps one of stature- the stones had shiny interiors like quartz or those fossil stones that look ordinary outside and extraordinary when split open.

Sporadic vegetation grew between some of the stones, I even saw high up, way above my head, two long stalks extending towards the sky with purple flowers at the end of each one. I took a photograph.

It reminded me of a recent picture I saw in the Roanoke Times. It showed a brick wall--in tact-- except that it had a rose or flower growing out of the adjoining mortar. The caption read, "Where there is a will, there's a way!"

The path eventually led to a river and after taking a brief picture of CANADIAN geese and lilypads (See Below), I found a sign describing the ruins I walked by.

It's called Abby Ruins. It was a monastery built in the 1100s. After the monks were no longer there (last one got excommunicated) the Abby went a little downhill. It was no longer maintained and a lot of the stones were snatched to repair the other buildings in Reading. Thus the ruins I saw today. Now it is an open air theatre. "As You Like It" starts tomorrow.

From there I made my way to the familiar Oracle. I bought some chocolate. I also went into a WH Smith store. It was a bookstore with stationary and cards. I wanted to buy a British version of a Vonnegut novel. Alas, I found none. I also didn't find any "stationary" I liked-- Stationary seems to be just paper here.

One thing I did notice is there wasn't a "Classics" section-- no clear cut section where you could get Shakespeare or Hemingway or Dickens of Joyce. I thought this was fitting. Once in a smoky bar some visiting Germans pointed out how easily the U.S. deems something historical-- even when it is only a mere 100 years old. Perhaps our "arrogance" in what's important extends to books as well.

Diarrhea is spelled Diarrhoea here.

The stoplights turn yellow before turning red and then again before turning green.

July 31st is National Orgasm Day. I saw a poster/ad in a store. It announced that importance of the day along with a slogan, "Don't fake it, get it!"

Oooh. Figured out a new difference. I've seen a lot of commercials where it says "New Series". An Ally McBeal commercial helped me figure out-- they mean "New Season"

Just watched another episode of Big Brother. It's really captivating here. I think because these last 4 are real people- they have feelings and worries and concerns. They aren't facades just trying to strategize like the cast of our Big Brother 2. I don't think these last 4 care so much about winning the money. They are uplifting to watch.

Spoke to Jay and Ryan today coordinating. I'm going to try to meet Ryan at the British Museum at noon. I'm going to try to catch a 9:30 train to Watford. I hope the timing works out. I'd hate to strand Ryan by himself.

I've been self conscious of my nationality. I'm tentative to take pictures as that'd give me away as a tourist. I looked at some postcards today at WH Smith but I looked at them mostly from the corner of my eye. Today I passed a bum who asked for change. I just shook my head-- as I thought just saying the word "No" would give me up as a foreigner. He replied "Cheers" It made me feel horribly sad and guilty.

One Monday I passed a bum by the Oracle. When he asked for change I said without remorse (of my accent), "No Sorry". He thanked me for acknoledging him. Now two days later I disrespect his gratitude by not even speaking to one of his colleagues. I feel poorly about the way I handled that.

I did see a bum that made me slightly uncomfortable. He stood on higher ground from me and the other sidewalk users. He held up a liquor bottle and was yelling at someone. I passed him a bit fearful that he'd hurl the glass bottle my waya. I safely passed him. When I looked back he was kicking his friend-- a many lying next to him on the ground. I didn't notice him before. The drunk bum was trying to wake his friend. He didn't suceed by the time he was out of my line of sight.

[Another combination of ancient and modern]

I still haven't mailed my letters. I need to purchase postage. Jay says there is a post office next to him- so perhaps I can take advantage of that.

Welp, I'm a bit hungry. I've had many pieces of chocolate this evening-- I'm debating about having another. I may travel down to the lobby and grab a more healthy apple.

Cheers!

25-7-2001
Still today. Remembered one thing. I made a list of people I'd like to send postcards too. It is hefty! 20 people if I cut out the strictly low priorities one. I guess that isn't too outrageous. I am in a foreign country.

One thing I'd like to include to Sean's Mom is apparently teachers are treated well here. I saw two in-store advertising campaigns that claimed, "Great gift for teacher!" One was a fancy candle store and the other was an upscale chocolate store called Thorton's. Quite a step up from an apple. Speaking on which I just ingested one!

The chocolates are delicious but I really don't distinguish much difference between this and other fancy chocolates at home. Lunch discussion today included how much better chocolate is here. Then men (James and Frank) wretched at the mention of Hershey bar. They claim too many preservatives. Meanwhile Lara said the chocolate was too dark and not milky.

Preservatives is a big distaste of American food. Frank said the bread lasted forever...but tasted like preservatives. Milk here only lasts 2-3 days!!! I can't imagine. I like my 2 week out expiration date and the supposed 7-10 day buffer.

I had milk with my cereal this morning. It was chilled not hot like Kathleen claimed it would be. I didn't taste much difference-- though it was influenced a lot by the dissolved sugar from my "Frosted Corn Flakes"

Saw the last episode of the British Survivor tonight. The last two contestants were women! The format was a little different. All the contestants were on stage in front of a live studio audience. They inter-dispersed live interviews with glimpses of the last tribal council and interviews with odds makers and results from phone polls. Then they finally showed what each person voted while the two finalists looked on.

Can you believe this-- the vote was 7-0 for one girl to win. How horrible for the other girl-- but the loser kept smiling. I felt awful and I am not even the same nationality as her.

Welp... it's 11:22 and I have a wake up call at 7:30 so I best be going.

26-7-2001
Bah! It's 11:20 AM and I'm still on my way to Watford. Ryan and I are supposed to meet at the British Museum at 12:00. I think he'll wait up to an hour so perhaps I will make it. I never expected it would take me so long to travel to a place only 50 minutes apart. First I caught a cab to Reading Rail Station. I took that to London Paddington. Then I had to get on the Underground and go to Euston Square. Then I had to walk from Euston Square to Euston Rail Station. Now I'm on my final train to Watford Junction. Phew!

Then I'll check in and turn right around and head towards the British Museum. Whew!

This system has been terribly confusing. No one really gives you full information. They guide you one step at a time. For instance when I initially bought the ticket I was merely told "Platform 6 - 9:28 Train" Then when I got to London all the next "Information" booth told me was "Euston". I floundered around before I figured out I should approach the Underground. Lo and behold there was a map and even better-- a man thoroughly answering questions. He told me to go to Platform 2 and wait for the circle line.

The Underground was crowded and a little nasty as well, but people were nice. Waiting for the circle line one man asked me if I was finding my away okay. At that point I was, but I appreciated his inquiry.

Then two old ladies squished themselves together so I could share a seat. They taught me an important lesson-- it's not just Americans who are lost. They were a bit confused by the intricate rail/underground network as well. And their conversation revealed that they had been lost but were now on the right track.

I've had a couple people write things down now-- so I can make sure I understand them. For example the Paddington Information officer wrote "Euston". That was helpful because I thought he was saying Houston. At Reading the ticket officer wrote:

09:28 platper. 6

Which was just as confusing as his spoken word but I was able to figure it out by context.

I think I will stick to that tactic. But even though so far I have been lucky -- I realize how delicate this system is. All it takes is one incorrect interpretation on my part and boom! I'm lost. I may splurge and take a taxi to the airport- take no chances.

More vocabulary:

• Car Park - Parking lot or parking garage. It's funny because my first day here I migrated to a Car Park sign thinking it was a train station.
• Subway - a walkway underpass. Jay taught me this yesterday and it came into play today. Catching my first train I saw a sign that read, "Subway to Platforms 5-10" I was dumbfounded at first, "I have to take a subway to get to my platform?!?!" Then I remembered Jay's words.

I've pretty much wasted the entire morning on trains... but really it isn't much of a waste because I'm being exposed to the U.K. way of like and seeing the country-side.

Whoa. I think I heard my station. Best go.

26-7-2001
En Route Back to London

Sweet! That last trip was quick and now I'm on my way back. I may make my rendezvous with Ryan (assuming he waits an hour).

When I was getting on the Underground, the friendly man in the nice suit said as the train doors opened, "Here's where British politeness disappears" I paid note, but not too much as I positioned myself strategically with the pedestrian flow.

When I first got on my train to Watford Junction, the car was real quiet. It was me, an aging couple, 2 young women and one young man. Suddenly within a span of 3 minutes 3 cell phones rang and each young person on the car (besides myself) were having their own conversations.

The middle-aged couple quickly got up and shook their heads and went to another car. They should have stuck around-- the actual ride was very quiet.

Hehe. One of the young women carried on a loud conversation about how hung over she was.

They have TJ Maxx stores here, but they are called T.K. Maxx. I wonder why. Maybe T.J. is reminiscent of Thomas Jefferson in the U.S. and T.K. is something fitting here?

When we say "Downtown" they say "Town Centre"

I can't help but wonder when I see all the vandalism-- who first saw that usage of spray paint? Did U.S. hooligans do it first and then the idea spread to Britain and Europe. Or was it vice versa? Or perhaps two independent graffiti-innovators discovered the same notion at about the same time.

I know vandalism has existed for centuries. In Ancient Greece there was a rash of destruction of famous statues-- the genitals were removed. But with this spray paint graffiti, the look and feel of the "tags" the font per say, looks very similar to what you'd find in the U.S. So it interests me why the similarity. I've had some blokes write things down here today and their penmanship is slightly different so one'd reckon the vandalism would follow suit.

Perhaps its a function of the spray paint can. When an artist is singing you can't decipher accents- you can't tell if the singer is from Sweden, U.S., U.K. or Aus. Maybe the same thing happens with writing and spray paint.

The delicate differences in curvature are no longer recognizable.

"Exit" signs here read "Way Out". That's the same number of syllables, but extra characters for the sign. What a Clint thing to say.

Tonight is the first of the final evictions in the British Big Brother. I'm at a loss at who will go first. It's based on who has the least votes-- but all four of the remaining contestants are so likeable and deserving. I guess it will be a learning experience-- I'll get a peek at Britain's tastes.

More graffiti- multicolored now- even the color schemes look familiar.

Every now and then a train (in the opposite or same direction) passes by. Especially the ones traveling the other way- its a little bit of a jolting experience. You'll hear a faint high pitched squeal and then all of a sudden the loud rush and breeze of the train upon you. It shocked me the first few times and still now that I'm used to it I jump a little.

London Euston is almost here. Bye!

26-7-2001
I missed Ryan. I got to the British Museum at 1:11. As it turned out he did wait extra time, but we were on opposite sides of the building so we never met up.

The British Museum was very nice. I concentrated on Ancient Greece and Rome, but also dabbled in Ancient Egypt, Near East, Africa and Early Europe.

I think my favorite part was the Parthenon sculptures. They were all erected in one room and just the lot of them looked very impressive. I laughed a lot at some of the reliefs. There were a series of man vs. centaur hand to hand combat scenes. On one the man raised his knee up to try to hit the bucking centaur's chest. It reminded me of the advice people gave me about Jimmie's jumping. Knee him in the chest. The relief made it seem like that technique is just as effective against centaurs as it is for Jimmie (i.e. no effect)

There was another scene where the man didn't even seem like he was trying. He just mechanically threw a hand in the centaur's face, but no power.

I also saw a cringing one, where the centaur was kicking the man right in the testicles!

I know there were some non-Greek things I laughed at. You know how comedians are complimented by the phrase, "It's funny because it's true."

Today that phrase could have been replaced with "It's funny because its the same." Centuries divide our civilizations. We are continents apart but you can see similar behavior and gestures depicted.

Overall, I was really taken aback by the detail in all these ancient works. People went to so much effort-- even if it was just a geometric patterned vase.

The Assyrians surprised me. You'd have these intricate sculptures and then words carved on top of the reliefs. Early overlay I guess.

Another thing that surprised me: When I stepped back and thought about it-- a great many of the artifacts were created because of death. You had a lot of coffins and mummies from Ancient Egypt, ruins of tombs from Greece and Rome, etc, etc.

Maybe it's just the bias of the curator that makes death seem so important to art-- but really, have you ever seen a statue commemorate someone's birth? Or someone's birth mask? I guess it makes sense at that point the person itself is an empty canvas-- a living works in progress.

I read a couple of times about kings or other royalty help planning their tomb or burial site. I bet no one looked at them funny or labeled them "morbid" when they made their suggestions.

A while ago at work the fire alarm went off. But the sound was pretty ambiguous. No one realized it was the fire alarm and everyone continued to work. Boy, that concerned management!

Today I had a similar experience. I noted this music kept playing. It was much like the tones at the train station before an announcement is made. I carried on with my tour, getting a little annoyed at how those tones would not go away.

It just so happens at that time I decided to visit the lower level of the Greek and Roman exhibit. As I descended down the stairs I did notice a guy with a florescent coat on waving at people, but I continued on my way. As I started down the last flight of stairs the tones become quite loud and almost unbearable.

It was then the concept started to click-- that was a fire alarm and they are directing everyone to leave the building.

The first alarm was quite a nice break. I laid in the sunshine a while and took a couple of pictures of the mob and my surroundings:

I did catch up with Jay today. He, his girlfriend/girl friend, Lorraine, and I ate at a Mexican restaurant. I had an excellent time visiting with him.

His face was glowing and looked great. I almost suggested he looked relaxed- but then I remembered his whole life is relaxation! (Perhaps not...) He volunteered that he had been the recipient of facial masks during his training session. Dang. I need to get hooked up with those.

 
[Me on the streets of Watford]

Lorraine is from Ireland. She already got assigned to a boat- so she'll be leaving the YMCA soon. She is tall, taller than Jay with beautiful curly dark hair. It's a bit reminiscent of Marissa's hair.

Lorraine laughed at me and Jay telling us we talk the same. She said that we are very animated. Jay said we get that from Dad. I flatter myself and agree.

Jay and I penned some joint postcards today - Mom, Grandma & Grandpa, Carolyn & Clint, and Marissa. Actually I wrote numerous postcards today. There is a post office nearby so I will mail everything tomorrow. It's a probably going to cost a fortune, but I think getting the English postmark is worth the splurge.

So far I like Watford a lot better than Reading. I'm in a more convenient locale which is the big part of it. I can walk to restaurants or shops or the train. No stupid, expensive taxis.

Lorraine pointed at a silver TT Roadster tonight with glee and reveled that she loves those cars. :)

Watford is a little more run down than Reading-- the shops are more aged and the streets are dirtier. My hotel room is significantly smaller and the paint on the ceiling is peeling.

But still its nice to be in the middle of everything. Only a five minute walk from my hotel to Jay!

Not sure what's on the agenda tomorrow. Ryan's train leaves dreadfully early tomorrow so I won't see him at all. I'm debating just staying in Watford. It seems very picturesque. I'm not sure if the sites in London would be much more fulfilling. We'll see. I guess a whole day is an awful long time to spend in Watford.

I'm sure I have much more to write about but I'm exhausted. My room wasn't ready when I got here so I lugged my packed to capacity book bag to London and through the British Museum. That sucker got so heavy that after a while it hurt to breath deeply from all the back and abdominal strain from supporting that bag.

I saw a lot of people wearing their bags backwards on their stomachs. I thought about that -- relief for back muscles-- but I still felt ridiculous implementing it.

Cameo was used frequently in the museum. I thought-- Whoa-- maybe a famous person is depicted in this vase. Then I realized their common meaning is "profile"

When I wrote Mandy today I wanted to relay that my busy schedule continues. I wrote "The business continues" business was supposed to derived from busy-ness. Now I wonder if that is the etymology of the actual word business.

27-7-2001

Whew! I didn't want to wake up today. I wasn't really tired, but my legs were. They didn't want to move! So I didn't wake up until 10 AM.

But so fair its been a productive morning. I walked down to Jay's YMCA are got a "nip" at an internet cafe and checked email. Then I went to the post office and mailed all my letters. It turned out to be 65 pence for oversea letters and 40 pence for oversea postcards. I had 5 letters and 17 postcards so that totaled 10 pounds and some change.

I took a different route to the YMCA as I did last night which is nice because I got to see other parts of Watford. I'm on my way to London now to see big Ben and Westminster Abbey but truth be known-- I'm just as amused walking down random streets spying on everyday life.

I don't seem to tire of the combination of modern and new. I took a photo today, of old townhouse-like stone structures. They whole essence was antique, but bolted to the side of the elder stone was satellite dishes.

I think that's what I really like about wandering around here- you never know what you'll find snuggled between office buildings and hotels. You might turn a corner and find a gorgeous park like in Reading... or perhaps ruins from the 1100s like the Abby Ruins. It's a never ending surprise.

I ran into a foreigner today. I guess I should revise that to another foreigner. This guy acted like he knew me and then when he realized I was someone else he tried to get my number or a photograph so he can be friendly to me. I was polite at first and nicely refused to give him my email or phone number or tell him which hotel I was at. But he wouldn't take a hint. I told him, "I have a train to catch" so he walked with me! It's probably a correct statement that this man was sincere-- a man in a new land seeking new friends, but I really didn't feel comfortable with it. At the train station he tried to kiss or embrace me (I thwarted his attempt before I could really tell his intentions). I pushed him away. Again he asked for a photo or number. I just said no and entered the station. The incident wasn't scary at all-- really just amusing.

Last night Jay wouldn't let me walk the short distance from the YMCA to my place. He made me get a taxi and he delayed his studies so he could wait on the street with me (Come to think of it-- maybe he had a vested interest in me taking a taxi). So I paid the £1.80 to get home.

Last night I said, "Jay, I'll be fine waiting here by myself."

He replied, "That's a chance I can't take."

Perhaps again he's shown himself to be wiser than I. If the incident today happened last night in the dark with the persuasion of alcohol (on the stranger's part, not I of course) then it could easily be nothing to smirk about.

I think I'm going to close for now so I can consult the "Tube Map"

27-7-2001
Whew! I'm tired. On the train back to Watford now after a lot of walking and site-seeing. I don't know where to begin really.

I walked by Westminster Cathedral. I saw the outside of Westminster Abby and Parliament with Big Ben. Then I spied a sign for the War Cabinet Rooms so I followed that and paid £5.40 for the tour. Very interesting. I was given a sound guide like Sean and I had for the WWII submarine. Although this one was a little more sophisticated than the one in San Francisco (play and pause and rewind options, ability to listen to extra personal accounts) it was still pretty archaic.

When the tour began it had an overview of the war in Europe. You could hear air raid alarms in the background. I've heard those particular alarms many times before, but this time the emotion really hit me. Those people were really bombed and really reacted to those sounds with many emotions- negative emotions. We're so far off in the U.S. that no matter how much we empathize we can never truly know what it was like (for civilians at least)

The war cabinets was dark and gloomy which one would expect being so far underground and having large slabs of concrete between you and the sun. They had a little station where they hung a sign up that told you what kind of weather you can expect above.

The public toilets here are like ones on airlines. When you lock the door, it'll update a sign on the outside to let others know its occupied.

Churchill had a private hotline phone to Roosevelt and subsequently Truman. The hotline was kept secret from many who even worked in the War Room. The door to it had one of those revolving signs and it said "Engaged". This tricked a number of the people who worked there. They assumed it was a private bathroom only the Prime Minister could use. I wonder if that means Churchill took long dumps-- so him being in there long periods of time didn't seem unusual.

There was even a more low level called the Docks where people could sleep. I listened to a personal account of a woman who worked there. She said at the end of the day you could change into your night clothes and walk to the Docks and not have to worry about running into anyone who'd see you. But in the morning inevitably there'd be officers who pass you when you're going to change.

Isn't that novel? Above ground people worry about V-bombs and death. I'm certain this woman had more dire concerns, but its funny the one excerpt they chose to share is a woman harping about material things-- someone seeing her in her jammies!

I learned some interesting tidbits about Churchill. Another woman's account - a typist spoke on how hard it was when he dictated. First he had a slight speech impediment with his s'es. Then he often had a cigar in his mouth which could disguise syllables. She said he'd pace around the room so sometimes he was easy to hear and sometimes he wasn't. My favorite obstacle she described was sometimes what he was saying was so interesting you'd want to just sit and listen and absorb it all in.

Imagine being that close to history being made but you couldn't savor it (if that is an appropriate term) because you are too busy working. Sort of like Sean and the Space Shuttle. When Sean was a child he watched a shuttle launch in Florida. He was so busy snapping pictures that the experience was lost on him. Even today he shakes his head at excessive picture taking. He believes one should live the experience before filming it.

My stop!

27-7-2001

Back in my room. Earlier in my journals I wrote about how wussy the toilet flushes are in my hotel. Well the toilet in Watford Moat House is just as wussy as the Reading Moat House. I just took my first dump in a hotel room toilet (I've used public toilets so far). Now I'm running an experiment:

How many flushes will it take to purge my dump and toilet paper cohorts?

So far I pulled the handle four times. Though 2 of those should be disqualified because I was impatient and the toilet didn't have enough water queued up.

I will keep you posted as my experiment progresses.

Another quirk of Churchill was he didn't like paperclips or staples. He had a hole punch (which he called "crop") nearby and he'd punch a hole and then tie a string through it. Once he demanded a crop and a confused new secretary brought him an encyclopedia written by a Professor Crop. Hehe.

I walked through St. James Park. It was very beautiful and peaceful. I passed a wooden bench that was carved as a memorial for a deceased woman. The engraving read "So and So (1906-1996) who loved St. Joseph's Park" I looked at that and thought, "Who wouldn't love this park."

Saw more Canadian geese and I think I saw some Mallards.

There were some feeding stations supposedly where you could feed the waterfowl. However I saw a stern sign forbidding me from feeding the pelicans. I wonder what the cause of the discrimination is.

I brought a Fruit Slush in the park. I paid £1.20 for a cup that was barely bigger than my hand! Rip off!

I saw Buckingham Palace. I didn't cross the street. It didn't look interesting enough to do so.

Instead I headed back through the park.

I noticed an emblem on the walkway. It told me that path was dedicated to Dianna, Princess of Wales. So her memorial is a place where people walk all over it-- not unlike how the press walked all over her. To further the insult I accidentally belched out loud while traveling on the path.

I walked back to Westminster Abby. There was a long line for a pricey 1 hour tour. Instead I poked my head in St. Margaret's Cathedral instead. It was beautiful AND free. Though I did donate £1.20 (Note: same price as my dinkiest of dink slushie). This church was built in the 1500s. One of the first things I noted was an ancient tombstone embedded flush in the wall. A plaque described that the marked was moved in to preserve it. Almost all the things on the wall commemorated someone's demise. There were fancy stones with colored family shields, simple signs under stained glass windows, even the stones underneath my feet has inscriptions on them as well.

Again I step back and see how much beauty is derived from death.

I lit a candle - I didn't know who to honor so I just floundered with all the people I know. Then I tacked on "Forgive me, God, if 20 pence isn't enough" as I plinked a coin in the iron collection box on the candle holder.

That was the last place I really visited. I continued walking. I walked by Parliament and Big Ben, The Eye of London, St. Joseph's Church and County Hall.

The County Hall had a Dali exhibit that caught my eye. I opted not to go in after seeing the £8.50 admission fee. It wasn't the price itself that deterred me. I still had a bad taste in my mouth from Ghent. I was very excited to see a Dali exhibit was in town the same time I was. I gathered a group and away we went. This showing while interesting was a let down. It was mostly sketches and doodles and unfinished works.

I continued to walk on. Then I saw something hilarious. Some poor guy was dressed up in a melting clock costume. He was pacing around with pamphlets yelling, "Go see Dali! Go see Dali!"

Oh I forgot another amusing anecdote. I don't have a clock but I don have my cell phone. Throughout the day, I would grab my cell phone, turn it on and then calculate the time. My cell phone still shows time at home so my algorithm is:

Cellphone Time + 5 [- 12]

Right after I crossed Westminster Bridge, I set my bag down and fished my cell phone out, turned it on to get my base time. Just about when the time flickered on, I noticed my stupidity. There across the river was a giant clock already with the local time. It was Big Ben... and it had been readily visible the last few times I had consulted my cell phone!!!

Here's another flashback. On Wednesday Frank was driving me back to my hotel. I was thinking of what to do with the afternooon. Frank suggested Windsor Castle. I asked, "What's there?"

He said, "Well, it has rooms" then his voice trailed off.

"Really?" I said, "Do they have floors and ceilings too?!?!"

Jay says he misses American sarcasm. I think it could be found here as Frank appreciated my wit.

Speaking of wit-- I passed a taxi today with an ad painted on the side "For those bored meetings"

I thought- whoa, instead of "boring" they say "bored." Very interesting. Then I realized-- oh wait, it's a pun!

I meant to buy myself a souvenir but I didn't find a suitable one. I did buy 3 cookies from Starbucks. Last night Lorraine was talking about how she was in a Starbucks in America and had some delicious cookies. She says now whenever she sees a cookie she buys it but they don't taste the same. I was hoping to help her out in her quest-- but so far the one I tried is harder than I'd expect an American cookie to taste. We'll see.

I also thought I'd buy an engraved tag for Henry since he lost his. BUT it was expensive and none of the tags were really fitting for Henry. Maybe I'll find something good later.

Actually I really don't need anything- this is the most detailed travel journal I've penned and I have plenty of pictures.

I must have taken ~40 pictures. Actually at one point I panicked when I looked at the picture count on my camera and it was in the mid 30s. I thought my camera was broken. I checked the film canister in my bag and sure enough it help 40 pictures.

One picture I took was a sign that detailed the closing times of the toilet in St. James Park! Closing times carried by month! Hehe!

Other visitors might have thought it unusual of me taking a picture of a sign... but I'm not the only one with those tendencies-- I took a picture of a man taking a picture of a toaster display!

One thing I think is a little sad is that I won't have too many pictures of myself. I saw some good opportunities. For example at an Underground stop there was a sign right above the bottom of the escalators. The sign read:

Victoria Underground Station

I thought it would be cool to get a picture of me right under that sign. Get it? I'm Victoria and I'm Underground. Hardy Har Har.

I did get a picture of myself at the hotel:

One thing that's sure to be more amusing is my cameos in the pictures of other tourists. I'm confident I'm in a number of them. They probably look like this:

Oh yeah, flashback to my discussion on ancient vandalism. When I was in the British Museum yesterday I saw a Roman head statue. The nose was severed and there was a cross carved into his head. The sign nearby said the bust was likely vandalized by early Christians.

I'm on my final train trip from Watford Junction to London Euston. The YMCA building is one of the tallest in Watford. As my train picked up speed exiting Watford, I kept my eyes transfixed on the YMCA building. It stood over the houses, parking garages and steeples around it. I watched the building get more and more obstructed by the tree line until finally it was gone. I felt a bit of loneliness when I could no longer see where Jay's at. Not for me as much as for Jay. I'm the last family he'll see for a while. I'm really glad I got to see him. I hope the visit was at least half as meaningful to him as I found it. That'd make it pretty meaningful!

Muahahaha! I DID Rollerblade! Last night from my hotel to Jay's YMCA. It was perfect weather for it and the terrain was great. I was a tad concerned when I got to the street that's lined with shops dance clubs and bars. For the most part traffic is closed to that road and people wander freely among fountains and some decorative concrete spheres. The road there is a pattern of brick and concrete tiles. I thought it would be tough, but the ride was very smooth. I was so happy to be blading-- felt so free and alive that part of me wanted to delay meeting Jay so I could skate more.

I've grown fond of these reflective train rides. When the cars aren't jam packed full they are very peaceful. Once I visited D.C. and rode the metro to visit Stacy's work. It seemed to me at the time that those commuters who rode the Metro had more introspective time-- they had a forced schedule where they had to slow down and read the newspaper or write letters or read books. The trains here follow that logic-- for me at least.

Bah! I should be eating an apple right now. I contributed 20 pence for it. As I was leaving my hotel I noticed it grazing the door- just about where hundreds of hands grope every day. I decided not to think about all the germs that had been transferred to my apple with that brief tough. I still intended to eat it. On the way to Watford Junction I noticed this apple wasn't in the best share. There was a discolored dot on one side that appeared to be related to a worm hole. Still I was going to pursue ingesting it-- just not that part. Then at Watford Junction, getting situated with my ticket, I dropped the apple. It rolled quite a distance on that grimy, disgusting train station floor.

I was destined not to eat that apple. I expressed my dissatisfaction loudly and then threw it way.

Yeah the Moat Houses have apples at the front desk. In Reading it was free, but in Watford I had to be charitable. In the US a lot of hotels give out free cookies. Even though I saw someone reading and article with the inset

"Like most health trends [something dental] originated from the United States"

it seems the hotels are a little more health conscious. Or perhaps they are just cheap? What's more costly- a cookie or an apple?

Now I'm on the train from Victoria Station to Gatwick. Even with three separate railed vehicles this trip is pretty easy (so far!)

Another neat thing in the WWII Cabinet room was an early cigarette lighter the British Engineers concocted for the map room.

Again, its so neat that above ground-- death and destruction. Below ground- state of the art (for that time) cigarette lighters mounted to the wall.

I'm exhausted. Last night I met Jay and some of his classmates.

Gerard from South Africa
Tammy from Texas
Lorraine from Ireland
Aaron from Toronto, Canada (He met the Kids in the Hall!)

[Aaron, Tammy, Lorraine, Jay, Me and Gerard]

I met some others too, but those 4 are the ones we hung out with all evening.

We ate at a place called Pasta Bowl. Very delicious Italian food. Then we walked around a bit. It was Aaron's 28th birthday. He wanted to play pool. We found a bar that boasted to be an American pool bar. We walked up many flights of stairs. The walls of the stairwell were decorated with pictures of American stuff- musicians, actors, sports stars.

The top did indeed look like a pool hall from home-- BUT it was terribly expensive. One person had to be a member. Membership costs £10. Then for each guest (there'd be five) the member would have to pay £3 THEN we'd have to pay £6 for each hour played. Needless to say we went elsewhere. Sounds like my stop. Later.

7-28-2001
I am now back in my home country. I'm in Pittsburgh, PA. It's about 3 PM Eastern Standard Time (8 PM in U.K.) I didn't get a good amount of rest on the plane though I did sleep through the first half of Chocolat and the second half of Men of Honor. Sitting next to me was a British External Auditor. She was traveling to the States for the first time. So we talked a bit on the differences during the final descension and landing.

Back to last night-- we finally made our way to a pub that had pool tables. You put in £1.20 change for a game of pool. Aaron was particularly interested in pool. Since it was his birthday it was the proper thing to do. We were in a bit of a hurry. It was already after 10 PM and the bar closed at 11 PM.

Gerard-- the South African claimed to never have heard of pool. At first we all thought he was toying with us. I'm still not certain but I think he was being honest.

 
[Jay giving Gerard instruction]

[Jay with Lorraine and Gerard]

Gerard and Aaron played the first game. After that I suggested doubles since we were so short on time.

Jay and I paired up. A strong Sawyer front! Too bad Jay scratched on the break and lost the game right there. So as not to waste the £1.20, we played the game out. Sawyer Siblings versus Gerard and Tammy.

The tables were much smaller and instead of stripes and solids they had reds and yellows.

Oh yeah! I forgot to mention-- on Jay's initial break the ball flew off the table and knocked someone's beer off a discolored* radiator. I guess that means Jay lost the game twice in a row.

[Jay's Bad Break]

*I made it a point to document the discoloration because Lorraine looked at it and asked me jokingly, "Do you think its supposed to be that color?"

Aaron says he notices my accent more than Jay's. He says mine is stronger. That's a bit unnerving mostly because it makes sense. I live more in the south than Jay. I've already had one person in the Huckleberry tell me that I sound like I wasn't originally from the area but I've been around a while. So the hillbilly effect is rubbing off on me. Aaron cited the way I say "asked" as an example.

A number of Jay's friends kept saying how alike he and I are in the way we talk and stuff. Most say we don't look anything alike but then there was one person who said we looked exactly alike. I believe I launched into a toilet story and someone said,

"Definitely brother and sister"

We took a lot of pictures. I gave Jay my camera. It wasn't very expensive, Jay didn't have one and I think he has a lot more to take pictures of.

[Aaron and Lorraine]

After 11 the bar started to close down. NOW they turned on the air conditioning?!?! Jay and Gerard and Aaron hurried to finish their beers.

And we actually left one beer barely touched. As we were leaving a woman shrieked out "Everyone start leaving the pub RIGHT NOW!" Then the woman next to her said as we passed, "Goodbye have a good night." It was funny-- you get a shrewd voice immediately followed by a pleasant one.

Aaron was jealous I had my rollerblades. I knew exactly how he felt. When I was walking on the TART Trail in Traverse City, Michigan I cringed with envy every time a skater whizzed past me. I'd rather err on lugging the extra weight around than to lose another great blading opportunity.

...

After the pub closed, I picked up my book bag and blades at the YMCA and then Jay walked me home. It was nice to have some time with just him and I. He stayed in my room for a while talking.

...

I told Jay last night, "Sometimes I don't really believe I'm here." Jay laughed, "I've been here 2 weeks and I still don't believe I'm here!"

...

One of the funniest aspects of visiting with Jay and his friends was telling stories about our family. Thursday night at the Mexican restaurant Jay cracked out a very loud Dad impression. So loud people at other tables turned and gawked.

I'm sure people gawked last night as well. When we were returning to the YMCA from the pub, Jay was doing his infamous monkey sounds. Sometimes when we had company over Mom asked Jay to make those sounds because he sounded so much like a monkey. This was confirmed last night. After Jay debuted his sound, Gerard told him exactly what monkey from his country it sounded like.

...

Another flashback to WWII Cabinet Room. The end of the museum was dedicated just to Churchill. They had a number of his papers and letters on display. I found his handwriting difficult to read. I was going to use this as support for my vandalism/handwriting discussion but then to my dismay I found FDR's handwriting as difficult to decipher.

There was a typed letter to Stalin shortly after D-Day. Churchill talked about how pleased he was with the invasion and how things were going well. Then casually he mentions, "One American beach was hit hard." He almost just breezes over it.

At Gatwick today I was in an insane check in line for U.S. Airways. In the U.K. they'd say "Queue". In front of me were many students from South Carolina who studied abroad here. I asked what they studied- they said British culture. When I asked what they learned they laughed and said, "There is none." Then one guy said, "Oh, oh, I learned that the U.K. and the United States have a 'special' relationship." The other students laughed as they had been told that many many times. Since WWII the two countries have had a 'special relationship'. One girl said that means the U.S. takes a lot of liberties and the U.K. lets it slide.

The guy directly in front of me in line was especially amusing. He was chubby (which I didn't see many fat people in U.K. and I never even noticed a single beer belly!) and had dyed blue hair. To help speed the process 2 inspection guys were manning the middle of the queue asking luggage security questions. As soon as the fat blue headed American approached, the inspector said, "Okay Rambo, what have you got here." For the entire interview the inspector called this guy Rambo. Maybe it's just me, but this dude didn't look the least bit like Rambo.

Cigarettes and gasoline (called Petrol) are expensive. £4.50 a pack or £4.50 a gallon. Yikes!

Sean complained a few weeks ago about a particular annoying cell phone ring. It chimes the taunting tune that is often accompanied by the phrase "Nanny Nanny Boo Boo"

I actually heard that same ring in Europe. While waiting in that expensive check in line we were surrounded by billboards that read:

"Rambo" was confused by the string of Ners. I hypothesized those are their words to the Nanny Nanny Boo Boo song.

I have to admit a lot of times I looked at that sign and looked ahead at the twisting path of people ahead of me, I thought instead of "You're on holiday. They're not" a more accurate phrase would be "You're in a long queue. They're not."

But all in all, the line progressed relatively fast. Definitely an improvement over the line Sean and I stood in for San Francisco.

One thing I think critically of in "Cookie Cutter" neighborhoods in the U.S. You'll have a sub-development and every house and every yard is exactly the same. In Reading, Watford and London I often admired the closely compacted townhouses with their symmetric feel and matching roofs. Suddenly it dawned on me- that's the same as what I detested in the U.S. I guess because the architecture is so unique from what I've seen in the U.S., I forgive it. Also these neighborhoods are so old there are plenty of trees. In fact, when flying out of Gatwick most the trees you'd see would be in the residential areas. There were some independent patches here and there but for the most part everything that wasn't houses was farm land.

FINAL DESCENT! Soon I will see my dogs, my boyfriend and my house... and I'll be able to get my film developed. I don't think these journals the past few days have been especially reflective. They are mostly recordings of observations. I think after I settle back into my homeland, I'll be able to digest the whole experience and be more reflective.

Final Score of Questionable Luggage:
Rollerblades: 1
Laptop: 0