Refreshed is not really a word I'd use to describe the way I was feeling when I woke up. As usual, coughing fits prevented me (and Nicole, since I'd wake her) from getting adequate sleep, and the uncomfortable bed was giving me pretty serious lower back pain. Nicole said that the first few moments of every morning were spent with me moaning about my cough, my back, how tired I am, how I miss the sun, and so forth, and then I'd only start having normal conversations again after that.
We decided to give the miserable breakfast a skip and head straight to the hop-on hop-off bus instead. You will never believe what was waiting for us on the bus- an audio guide! And the bus audio guide was every bit as excited about every single thing in London as every other audio guide we'd used. What the guide was useful for, though, was letting you know where to get off to change bus lines. The one that ran past our hotel was not the same bus that headed to the East Side of London, where we intended to spend our day.
Our bus driver was very helpful, letting us know how to get to the bus we needed as well as when we needed to be back to catch the last bus. We found the connecting bus stop, but the lady in charge there told us the bus wouldn't be around for another 15 minutes. To escape the cold, we decided to duck into the Costa Coffee across the road for lattes. There, we met a super cheerful British lady (a very rare find, believe me) that was surprised that we had chosen to leave sunny South Africa for the miserable weather in London over the Christmas period.
Back at the bus stop, someone else had joined our bus stop. Andrew was an American guy visiting the UK who had spent some time working in South Africa. Since I was last in Europe, I've noticed that people have become far more clued up about our country. They know about Cape Town and Joburg, some even know about Pretoria. They know you have to go on safari to see lions, you can't just find them in someone's back yard. They just can't seem to understand that not all white people are the same. We're all Afrikaaners, as far as the world is concerned. Andrew, having lived and worked there, at least knew better.
He opted to sit upstairs in the open to enjoy the better view, while Nicole and I enjoyed the warmth of the bus downstairs. It took forever to get to the East of London, as the bus merrily made its way past Buckingham Palace and the original Hard Rock Cafe (it started in London and not America). We said goodbye to American Andrew between Westminster Abbey and Big Ben, where he went to check out the church as we continued on past the London Eye towards Tower Bridge. Meanwhile, the audio guide continued to drone...
Eventually, we arrived at the London Dungeon. It was my second time, so I was prepared for the horror that awaited, but Nicole wasn't quite sure what to expect. It didn't help that, when she asked me about it, I gave her a vague explanation, saying "it's a scary presentation about the horrors in London's history, like the Black Plague and Jack the Ripper. It's a lot of fun. I enjoyed it!" That should have been her first warning, right there. Her second warning was the super creepy tunnel we had to walk through to get in, where a statue actually makes a noise as you go past it, making us both scream. Her final warning, before going beyond the point of no return, was when the one of the guys working there told us to "have a horrible time."
Maybe it's because we were already there and the tickets were already paid for, or maybe she was just feeling brave, or maybe she just wanted to humour me, but we forged along into the underworld of London. Most unfortunately, they don't let you take pictures, possibly because they figure you won't need it after all the mental scarring they try to leave you with. It starts off innocently enough, walking through a maze of mirrors for what feels like forever. After that, though, things start to get really scary, and people jump out at you from the dark and your heart, in turn, jumps out of your chest.
The scariest part, for me, was when we were in a pub and an actor was talking to us about Jack the Ripper. As he was talking, the lights went out. When they came back on, a man in a black cloak and top hat tried to grab someone in our group. I almost jumped into Nicole's arms! I got such a fright! That pretty much settled my decision about whether or not to do the Jack the Ripper walking tour or not - I had more than my fill of scariness for one day! This was crowned by a free-fall we did on a ride (they strap you up nice and tight) to simulate a hanging.
Personally, I really enjoyed the London Dungeon, despite the fact that my head was pounding with increasing intensity as the tour and rides progressed. We were meeting a friend of Nicole's soon afterwards for lunch and needed to get to the Tower Bridge in a hurry, so we were about to buy tickets for the underground to get us there, when we saw the hop-on hop-off bus arrive. We dashed to catch it, and my head felt like it might explode after the sudden exertion.
The first thing we did, as we jumped off at the Tower of London, was buy me a bottle of water in case it was a dehydration headache. It actually felt like the onset of a migrane, since I couldn't even count out the money myself and I was feeling nauseous. I finished the bottle of water, as we waited for Nicole's friend to arrive, and took some pain killers as well. Nicole promised me that, if my head wasn't feeling better by the end of lunch, we could go back to the hotel and skip the Tower of London altogether. She gets migranes quite often, so she is very sympathetic.
Nicole's friend, Anthony, finally arrived, and we headed to a pizza place up the road. The two of them "caught up" while I willed my headache away. I've phrased the previous sentence in that way because Nicole and Anthony had never actually met each other before. They have only ever been Facebook friends. It was quite cute, actually, for Nicole to want to meet an online friend. I do it all the time, and she gives me a lot of flack for it, so it was quite sweet to witness her first time ;) He's a really great guy, although I'm sure his impression of us was "my word, but those two girls can talk!"
I had another bottle of water while I was there, and my headache slowly began to dissipate. We all had pizzas, but I'd picked one that was a little different. Boasting that it was under 500 calories, the pizza had a super thin and crispy base formed into a ring. It was called a Leggera. The hollow centre of the pizza was filled with rocket, as a salad. The pizza was lightly topped with chorizo, jalapeño, and cheese. It was delicious! One thing I have to give the Brits credit for is that they make it really easy to eat lightly, since everything has calorie counts on it - even restaurant meals, apparently!
Luckily, my headache was gone by the time we said our goodbyes to Anthony and headed to the Tower of London. As we walked through the gate, one of the Beefeaters (Yeoman wardens) had started giving a free tour, so we slotted in right behind the group he had assembled. As he began telling us about the two princes who had mysteriously disappeared in the Tower only to find their bones much, much later, we were greeted again by Andrew, the guy we had met on the bus earlier that day. It was a nice surprise, and we spent the rest of the tour taking photos with him.
Of special interest (for me) at the Tower of London was that one of the kings was very superstitious and believed that if there were ever less than 6 ravens on the premises then London would burn to the ground, so he made a law that there always needed to be at least 7 kept there permanently. One for extra luck! Also interesting is that the Wardens with their amusing titles and somewhat comical uniforms are actually highly decorated with perfect track records (which the amusing Beefeater explains means that "no one has ever caught us doing anything wrong). They certainly have a better time of it than the guards at the palace who have to wear those stupid hats, walk with stiff arms and legs, and stare solidly into space while tourists make fun of them. These guys get to walk around freely and chat to each other and us.
Of special interest to Nicole (and the whole reason we visited the Tower at all) was the collection of Crown Jewels. Leading up to them, there are all sorts of ceremonial trinkets behind glass cases that you can check out, like golden spoons and decorated plated and goodness only knows what is required nowadays to crown someone, but anyway. You go past quite a lot of those displays. Then you get to the Crown Jewels where they don't want you to hang around for too long, so there are moving walkways on either side of the display both heading in the same direction - out the door. The Cullinan Diamond is a sight to behold. I think Mandela should ask for it back. Although, it's probably safer in London (it's only every been stolen once - then obviously recovered - before they put in their 'barely-look-and-certainly-don't-touch security policy).
Before we headed back to the bus to make our way to our day's final destination, we made arrangements to meet Andrew again the next day at Madame Tussaud's since his hotel was nearby and visit the famous wax museum together. Meanwhile, Nicole and I were off to a different museum - the Tate Modern. Entrance into anything in London tends to either be free or set you back 30 pounds. Luckily, the Tate Modern is free and neither Nicole nor I had ever been there, so we went to check it out. The best part of that experience was getting to walk along the Thames in the twilight (very romantic), passing the Globe Theatre (Shakespeare's theatre) on the way. One day, I'm going to attend a show there. Unfortunately, it's only possible to do so in the warmer months of the year.
The Tate Modern itself is a rather unassuming, rigid block of a building. It has a set of long escalators between each of its 4 floors. The exhibition inside is constantly changing, so there is always something new to see. I'm making it sound more interesting than it is, though. I'm not really into Modern Art, and it seems that Nicole isn't either. Maybe it is just because we'd been so spoiled artistically in Italy and France over the last few weeks that a framed ball of string just didn't seem incredibly impressive. In one dark room, there were two huge sheets of light moving towards each other from the ceiling and the floor (each about the size of a door) that come together in the middle in a blinding flash before leaving the whole room in darkness. It's supposed to represent the way overexposure to the media is blinding us and leaving us in a moral darkness. That's the kind of stuff you could see inside. We glanced through it all pretty quickly before heading back to the bus.
The next bus took quite a long time to arrive and Nicole began to worry that we had missed the last one. It seemed like every other bus in London was coming, but ours was nowhere in sight. When it did eventually make its appearance, we explained to the bus driver that we needed to catch a connecting bus that would be leaving fairly soon. We would be lucky if we made it. Nicole's state of panic continued (despite the fact that we could always take the tube as well - but money was getting tight and we didn't want to waste anymore of it on transportation). Thankfully, the bus driver made an extra stop for us where he shouldn't have, told us to take the next bus coming from the other direction who also made an extra stop for us where he shouldn't have, and then gave us pretty clear directions on where to run to catch the bus back to the hotel. When we got to that bus stop, though, there was no bus in sight. Nicole's panic reached an all-time high after we had gone to so much effort to get to the bus in the nick of time. It's hard to talk her down from the ledge when secretly you are seriously considering that you may have missed the last bus after all as well. Imagine our shared relief when it finally arrived! The bus driver very sweetly said to us "don't worry, I wouldn't have left you here," as he took us back to the stop outside our hotel.
I was ready for another dinner sandwich in the hotel, but Nicole was suffering from cabin fever. So we enjoyed another leisurely pizza together while using the wifi to send messages back home. Eventually, though, we had to return to our tiny room, where we passed the time watching British TV late into the night. One thing that really stands out is how intolerant Brits are to people with a weight problem. There are reality shows mocking them, there are fitness shows helping them lose weight, and every second ad on TV is about weight loss, dieting or gym. They're obsessed with it, and so mean to anyone that is struggling. In the restaurants and grocery stores they have special sections for those trying to lose weight. There are signs everywhere promising weight loss (not fitness - not even at gyms) for a certain fee. It really makes you feel self-conscious. Especially after weeks of lavishly eating local cuisine. Oh well, as Nicole loves to say, diet starts on Monday. Today, we enjoy London!
