London III (London the 3rd)

Sometime in the early hours of the morning of our last day in Edinburgh I was awakened by the return of our roommates, two welsh girls. Now this is usually not a big deal as I rolled over to go back to sleep. As I was just about to nod off I heard the two girls arguing a bit, so this disrupted my return to my slumber so I thought I'll just ride it out and maybe they'll shut up once they get back into bed. I suppose it wasn't all bad as one of them seemed to have no problem stripping down to nothing without closing the curtains. I suppose a rude awakening for a bit of a show is something I can live with (call me a pervert all you like, but any guy would've done the same thing).

Once morning arrived I began to pack my things as Jeff had already packed up his belongings and was waiting on me. The girls woke up as well and resumed their angry banter with each other. One of them left to get a shower so I was left in the room with the one who gave me the free show. We started chatting for a bit as I shoved the last few items into my bag. The gorgeous girl jumps out of bed revealing that she isn't wearing that much at to do a bit of a morning stretch. At this point I now feel bad for staring and felt it was best if I double my efforts and leave in more of a hurry before she starts to think I'm strange.

Jeff and I now had 3 hours before our train was to depart. We sat around the train station, sitting on our bags, and I did what I enjoy best when I'm bored and in a very busy public place. I started to people watch. I'm not sure what it is about places like train stations and airports that make me happy. Maybe it's the gateway to adventure bit, or maybe it is the fact that you can watch people from all over the world and all walks of life passing through one building. People watching in these places always brings up a good question though, why is there so much hate in the world? in the train station all I saw was people over joyed to see a family member or loved one walk through the gates towards them, or people who were sad to see someone go. There's a lot emotions in buildings like these.

Finally we had reached a time when we could board our train and take off back to London for the 3rd time. Jeff and I were separated on the train this time. He was at one table across the aisle from my table and we would both have to endure a family of 3 at both of our table seats for the whole journey. It reminded me of the game "Freak roulette" that we used to play on the bus rides home from school. Essentially the rules were you had to sit in a different seat from all of your friends on the bus and see which stranger sits beside you. Whoever gets the biggest freak, lost. I know it sounds horrible, but keep in mind we were teenagers at the time. If we were playing the game on the train this day then it was clear that I lost big time. I was with a family from the middle east somewhere, which didn't bother me at first but then there young daughter (maybe 5 years old) started to get anxious. This always bothers me no matter what form of transportation I'm taking. Parents seem to think their young kids will just behave themselves for 6 or 7 hours on a train or Plane with nothing to do. Give me a break. Don't act all surprised when they start misbehaving and crying. They are kids and they are bored to tears! Gah! Just one of my travel pet peeves I suppose.

The train ride was uneventful until near the end of the trip. Some lady missed her stop and started to get all grouchy and mean. It turns out she missed the next stop after that as well and went off the handle. Thankfully there is train security to deal with people such as this. I suppose the fact that she had consumed a few beers didn't help her. What a twit.

The rest of the ride went smoothly sans the fact that we ended up arriving about an hour later then we had been told. No biggie. I just wanted to check into a hostel so I could dump my bag.
We found it quite quickly and easily, but immediately we were not pleased. The place was a bit of a hole and was really expensive because of it's proximity to the Notting Hill Carnivale that would be started the next day (the one that we had no idea was going on until we tried to return from Edinburgh). We shelled out the money and found that the hostel was split into two sections. The black peoples section and the white people section. Jeff still insists that they were Pimps and whores on that side and that I'm naive just because I couldn't see a feathered hat out of the whole bunch. Thankfully we had good roommates. The rest of the building lived up the garbage reputation. I found only one toilet in the whole building and the showers were more like a hose taped to the wall. Now I've been to my fair share of hostels between Australia and here, so I believe it's safe for me to say that this is truly the worst hostel I have stayed at. I wish could hand out some award to them. This prompted Jeff and I to search for a new hostel after our two nights near Hyde Park were done.

The next day we decided to check out what this whole carnival thing was and found it didn't seem to be too spectacular except for an excuse to drink (like you need one in England). We ended up spending our day in Hyde Park relaxing in the sun as it happened to be the most beautiful day we've seen out here. I went on to tan my arms up a bit and Jeff's face got the brunt of the sun to leave a nice line where his bandanna was.

In the evening we headed back to the Famous 3 Kings pub in west kensington for the cheap food, and so Jeff could check to see if his cute waitress was working. I didn't see her, but the food was still cheap and exactly what we needed.

The next day we checked out and went in search of our new hostel up in the Swiss Cottage area, Palmer's Lodge. Somewhere inbetween booking the place and getting up there neither of us had bothered to write down the address. I guess I'll take the blame on this one as it was my idea to hit up this hostel. So we wandered around the Swiss cottage area for about half an hour until a friendly couple asked us if we needed help (again, we get help without asking for it. Such friendly people). They point us in the right direction, but just to be on the safe side I decide that we should hit up an internet cafe to double check the address for sure. We get everything sorted and find our way to the hostel only to think that maybe we walked right by it (and it wouldn't surprise me if we did).

When we check in and get to our room we end up meeting our new roommates. One particular fellow is an Ozzy guy named Luke. We make some small talk for a bit until we decide to all meet in the hostel bar in the basement (Yay for hostel bars). We do just that and find that we all get along quite well. This just proves the point that Ozzies and Canadians mix real well and I'll bet in mainly has to do with our laid back natures.

The next morning I wake up early to go to the train station with Jeff where he catches a train to the airport to fly home. It was sad seeing him go. We had gotten along pretty well the last two weeks. I mean there were no fights or disagreements and when we did have a tussle it was usually laughed off or forgotten real easily. These were traits that I knew I would never find in a travel buddy again. If it weren't for Jeff then I probably wouldn't have had to chance to see places like Paris, Brussels and Edinburgh so soon into my trip, but I'm very thankful that I have. I can't imagine how my trip would've gone so far if it weren't for this guy and I owe him a lot. Maybe a few drinks when I return.

Now it was time to get serious. Being back on my own meant it was time to start following the signs and hope that they will lead me to what I'm searching for.