I packed my bags last night after Dave and I ate Chinese buffet and was feeling grateful for the fact that Dave was the perfect host for my this journey. I related with Dave in many ways, but one major quality we shared was our preference for comfort. We lounged around the house, played Call of Duty: Modern Warfare 2, drank English Tea with a splash of Irish scotch whiskey and went out for food and drink in town. He drove us all the way out to Nottingham, the place that has the oldest inn in England (and possibly the world). After we consumed our traditional British Meals (Fish and Chips, British Ale Pie, and a pint each) we had a smoke and walked a couple blocks, getting a feel of this Chicago-sized city. He spotted a pool table in a pub. So we walked inside and played a couple rounds.
After we decided we’ve had enough, we started heading back to the car for a 1.5 hour drive home.
The rest of the weekdays I took it easy and attempted to recover from the jetlag. It was not until Friday/Saturday I regained enough energy to go out again. Destination: London. We drove from St. Ives to Cambridge and took the BritRail to Liverpool Station and scurried like mice in a maze while walking though the underground passageways toward the hotel we’ll be staying at.
We wanted to dance, meet new people and London was the place to do it. I see why it’s called a global village because I met people from all over the world, but not many Asians. Nonetheless, people were kind, sweaty, dunk and on drugs; I didn’t care we were having a blast. Dave and I were a powerful Pair; a Dominating Duo. We went from set to set chatting up the beautiful ladies and connecting with gentlemen. However, it did not stay that way when we changed the venue from Ministry of Sound to The Egg. We caught a taxi—an illegitimate one—and arrived safely costing us 16 Quid. People were outside begging to be let back in. One guy hopped the barrier and was told to leave, “STRAIGHTAWAY.” We get to the gate and the bouncer is giving us a hard time about our attire. But we finally get let in and pass the metal detectors. Looking and listening around, I wasn’t impressed with the scene. We flew into a totally other vibe and the transition left a bad taste in my mouth after I experienced the aftermath of debaucherous drinking, terrible music, unattractive attitudes and a bunch of old geezers coming down off their drugs. But I wasn’t going to let that mess up the rest of my night–it was just a bad look. Dave and I were cheated of 30 quid for entrance, mixed with a congregation of unimpressive characters, and got a weird feeling after leaving that club. Fail.
I finally made it onto the EuroStar, a privately owned company that takes its guests out of England by train. I did not know that my EuRail Pass would not work; therefore, I paid about 80 Pounds to travel to Brussels, where I will transfer trains. Destination: Munich. It will be an 18 -20 hour trip with a transfer and a trip on the red-eye. I have reservations at The Tent and hope to arrive on time.