London Calling. Press 1 to Accept the Charges.

And charges there will be.
London is a lovely, lively and oh so fun city, but it knows it, and refuses to under price.
It is a city at the center of the world, as it intentionally mapped itself, and expects to be treated as such. The pound seems to weigh much less here. So much so I swear the sterlings just float straight out of my pocket. Straight out of pocket to who knows where. I wish I did.
That's not to say I'm not enjoying myself because I've loved most every minute of it.
Not instantly charming like Scotland but it so much to offer.
And so much to offer up your quid for...

I arrived Tuesday on a bus from Edinburgh.
I took the bus instead of the train because it was half the price and I thought I might like to see the countryside a bit more. Wasn't so sure the scenic route was really worth the price though when we pulled into the station around 10pm, 3 hours later than we were supposed to, making the journey an epic 11 hours long. Especially since I attempeted to sleep through most of it and it was black out for the other part. By the time I disembarked the bus at Victoria Station I was wobbly kneed and feeling sick, so I was incredibly relieved to find that the London tube system had taken in account such travel weariness and has designed a route map navigable by children, elderly and the navigationally handicapped alike. I guess that's why it's gone down in design history and will forever be mimicked by new train stations around the world. If there is a fan club out there I am willing to join. I've been rendered just that dorky by my new found passion for subway riding. Routing trips is like playing a life-size board game or going on a grown up scavenger hunt. I love it!

Only minutes from the time the bus braked I was in King's Cross Station and strolling my way through blocks of Turkish shops to a nearby hostel called Clink. The hostel is located in a fully renovated old court house, so it was quite a nice place to come upon and be welcomed by as my first lodging in London. I was terribly cranky though from my unexpectantly long train ride and from having my first choice of places to stay fall through just hours before though, so I was not excited to see the throngs of young people lining the steps and still partying at the hostel's bar. I did however want to check out the scene since I wasn't expecting to stay for more than one night, so I went down to get a cheap drink before retiring.

I was surprised to find that hard alcohol was cheaper than beer and they sell it by the shot, not as a cocktail or well drink. Seeing that the menu had listed the option of adding coke or lemonade (what they call Sprite or 7-up) I asked for a whisky coke only to get a completly puzzled stare back at me from the bartender. "A what?" replied the heavily accented furry, surfer looking dude. "A shot of whisky with coke?" I replied. I had been bought that drink a few nights before at a bar so I thought I was making a safe choice. How different can British English be?
"Where you from?" he asks looking at me like I'm a zoo animal he's never seen.
"America?" I answered like I could be wrong, and finding it weird that I answered America.
"Oh, okay" he answered, straightening back up and resuming his bar duties, smiling again as if that was sufficiant enough answer. Turns out he was from Poland and was confused by my accent. It seemed that Americans were not very commonplace in this hostel. Didn't hear a single bland accent the whole time I was there. Come to think of it I haven't heard any sice I arrived in England. There were plenty in Scotland though. You could spot an American from a block away. No particular reason, you just could.

I've also found out since that there are a LOT of Polosh people in London these days. It's the new wave of immigration. And many English speak of them like some Americans do Mexican immigrants: they take the jobs, they don't peak English well enough, they're crowding the country, blah, blah blah. It's odd to hear, but I love it that there are so many Polish! That's not an ethnic group I've seen much of and since my great grandfather was Polish speaking, born of Prussian immigrants, it's a culture I want to know more about.

This also proves another point: my plain english is too plain to be comprehended. I cannot pronounce a street name or ale company properly for the life of me. There was a tube stop called Leicester and they pronounced it "lester". And worchestershire sauce is pronounced "worster" or something of the sort. British english is so confusing!

After checking my internet in their internet lounge located in the old courtroom, I headed off to bed feeling robbed but relieved to have a better place to stay the next night. It was £2/hour to use the web but at least my couch surfing request was confirmed. I could sleep soundly in my nice and clean yet crowded bunk surrounded by 8 others, knowing that tomorow I had a couch of my own (relatively) to stay in in it's own room in the house of a very lovely sounding french woman. I slept like a rock.