Day 2: London

I made it! Not that it was really suspect, but it's a nice thing to confirm. As I sat in the terminal I brought out my knitting. Some women came by, one sitting next to me. She commented on my knitting and we got into a ten minute yap about knitting and where we were going and for how long and talking kind of fast cause I was a little nervous that she might think I was a total geek (the bad kind) though I don't know why that would matter.

Also I wanted to share all my knitting tips and tricks. Make your own needles! Salvage yarn from old sweaters! Go to this website! I somehow managed to restrain myself a bit though. They were very nice, these women who I'm guessing were sisters. They were flying to Amsterdam, staying a few days and then heading to Germany to see family for a week and a half. Far cleverer than I, they only sat at the gate for about ten minutes before boarding. But they were wearing skirts. How silly! Planes are no longer places for fashion statements. They're for the comfiest of clothing because you will inevitably 1. freeze, and 2. roast at any given time on your flight.

I sat and knit and people-watched and talked on the phone until boarding time when I discovered a Miracle.

I'd asked the guy at the counter, you see, for an isle seat. And it turned out that -- well, I'll let you read what I wrote on the plane:

Clearly I'm getting some glorious karmic payback -- that or I should go kiss the man who gave me my seat. I got the only fully empty row on the plane. The armrest is broken for the other two seats and so they blocked them off. A nice flight attendant crouched next to me and said why no one would be sitting there -- I said I saw, "Isn't that great?"

"It's fantastic," he replied, clearly indicating that that was about $600 (or so) worth of seats that could be going in part toward his paycheck.

Zing.

But! I can lie down so long as I have a seatbelt on!

This is even better than sitting with the Very Attractive Brit in front of me! And almost makes me forget that I suddenly feel really lonely!

I did indeed get to lie down after watching some of That movie with that guy from 'Friends' and Ben Stiller and what's her name who's -- oh, Jada Pinkett -- with the New York zoo animals who get stuck on an island or whatever. I'm not sure if I slept, but I did rest, and that's the important thing, according to British Airways. Oh, and also the free wine. Hello, free wine. Turning Leaf chardonnay, yum.

A man in the row in front of me turned and asked if anyone was sitting in my row. I explained the arm rest thing, and said he could ask, but I didn't think they were seating people there. And silently pleaded that he wouldn't be able to sit with me. And I guess he couldn't, cause when he came back he went back to his middle-of-the-row seat. All those things to work on while on the plane and I just ended up crashing.

We reached London early, and then had to circle around a while before landing on time. And then -- prepare to be jealous -- the passport control line! Yes! Ew! I stood behind a Canadian couple with whom I ended up having a very lovely repor. Her name was Karen, and I didn't catch his name. But after the passport line they helped me figure out how to get to King's Cross Station (answer: ask at the train ticket desk). I highly enjoyed them, even though I thought them mildly obnoxious when I was first listening in on their conversation.

I paid far too much in order to have a faster trip to King's Cross. Took the Heathrow Express (yeah, expensive, but three times faster and also, I = tired) to Paddington Station (did you know that "Paddington" comes from the words "Paddy" and "ton" which eventually points out that the station was built on the farm of Paddy? Now you do! Because everyone needs more useless information), where an older gentleman noticed that I was a tourist (he saw me at the airport asking for directions) and pointed me in the proper direction. I wasn't actually lost at that time, but was ogling the Paddington Station. Pretty! And also dirty! I hopped the circle line and got off at King's Cross Station.

Went straight to the Tourist information shop and asked where Swinton St was. Got some directions that didn't actively make sense once I stepped outside, but managed to find my hotel anyway. It was really close, thankfully, what with my aggressively large and heavy bag (where did all that stuff COME from?).

They let me check in even though it was 11am, I have a bathroom, and there's FREE WIRELESS INTERNET oh yes there is! Granted, it blinks in and out and seems to only be consistent when I sit in the tiny hallway that leads from my door into my tiny room, but INTERNET! I have no reason to leave the room now.

Ha ha! I kid. There's beer outside of the room. I will go out to find beer, at some point.

But first I'm just going to lie down for a second.