To Steel - 4/20/17

A memory of when I was younger 

A little less me

A lot less bold

A spine unable to bear

My own mediocrity

My own insecurity

My own choices

And I sat idle

And I moved on

And inside a dreamer grew 

And a voyager sprouted 

My own path

My own escape

My own way

Adventure does not wait

Adventure does not seek

My own rite

Gravel In My Tread - Entry 4 (29 Jan, 2017)

Gravel In My Tread

excerpts from a travel journal

29 JAN 2017

Saturday, 29 JAN 2017 -

We catch the shuttle to the Dublin Airport. Very lax security here, by the way. We catch a flight with maybe 20 others to Edinburgh. Take a bus to our hotel. It's only 8 or 9 so the room isn't ready but we can leave our things. We do that.

We trawl the city for food - I'm starving and also need coffee. Everything seems closed and I can't tell if it's because it's early or Sunday. Or early on a Sunday. We eventually find Pret A Manger, a sort of European equivalent to Starbucks. I got a chocolate croissant and parfait and caramel latte. It was great.

We find ourselves headed to Edinburgh Castle, which looks positively monstrous on its hilltop, looming over us. It cost something like twenty Euro to enter. We pay, but it leaves a bitter taste in our mouths. It's not nearly so big and cool as it seems. But it is sort of big. And sort of cool. It offers an incredible view of the city and sea beyond. Also a great a view of hundreds of Asians wearing bubble jackets posing and taking pictures of themselves and each other in bubble jackets. Tourist traps are the worst. You really want to see them but so does everyone else. So it sort of kills the satisfaction and wonder I obtain from the thing. Oh well. Castles are still pretty cool.

I also just remembered I forgot to mention I went into a vintage store yesterday in Dublin after tattoos. I saw this red and blue flannel immediately, put it on, and it fit absolutely perfectly. So I bought it. And I'm quite satisfied with it.

Okay, back on track - after the castle we go back to the hotel; on the way we stop at a great little used book store. The walls were positively stuffed floor to ceiling with books. I picked up a copy of Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone. I am on a mission to collect a copy of the first book from each non-English speaking country we visit, including the UK since the English and American editions are different. This store had a few first editions, which were cool, but I'm not that serious a book collector so I opted for a cheaper copy.

Next we stumble upon Lebowski's. It's a Big Lebowski themed bar. They serve over 20 unique White Russians, and the movie is playing on screens in the lounge area. I got the "Original" and it was superb. 

Noah was looking pretty sullen and said he was feeling sick so I escorted him back to the hotel and continued on my own. I continue my meanderings through the beautiful city. Chapels, churches, arches, crosses, cemeteries, gardens. Everything stone. Everything old. I follow a nature trail that points be toward the Scottish Gallery of Modern Art. There's two large, separate buildings. I spent two hours there, between the two of them. In the front lawn of the first building is a lone sign that reads THERE WILL BE NO MIRACLES HERE. There's a marvelous land structure of grass and water in front of the second building. I couldn't begin to describe it, really, but it was beautiful. On the front of the second building, above the tall doors, a header reads EVERYTHING IS GOING TO BE ALRIGHT.

I hope so.

A stunning French girl gave me a cigarette outside the first building. Lots of French girls looked at lots of marvelous art and lots of "What even is this" art with me. Well. At the same time as me. 

I started making my way back to the hotel. I stopped at a restaurant and bar for a Scottish lunch and pint. The pint is important. Because it's beer and I wanted it. I got pork and haggis sausage on a bed of mashed potatoes, with onion rings and gravy piled on top. The second course was cranachan, a tradition Scottish dessert consisting of layers of whipped cream, honey, whisky, raspberries, and toasted oatmeal. Holy shit though. The beer was okay. I'm not that into lagers but Europe is all about that.

I stopped back at the hotel to write this and allow my phone to charge before I head back out. Noah is still in bed and has no interest in leaving. Oh well.

30 JAN 2017

Currently on a train from Edinburgh to Inverness, in the Scottish Highlands. It sits just a few miles from Loch Ness. Nessie motherfucker! Loch Ness is one of the few places I've actually wanted to visit for a long time. It looks incredible. We'll see.

Alright, okay, yeah, let's take it back a few hours. A lot of hours. Well, some hours. I left Noah still in bed around 6 last night. I was in search of a drunken stupor and new friends. Spoiler: I pretty much do that. I first headed toward the Lebowski bar. I was happy to go somewhere else should it have come up, but this gave me a direction to walk at least.

Knowing I'd be out for quite a while, drinking the whole time, I gave myself permission to be a big dummy and buy some cigarettes. The Sainsbury didn't carry any Marlboros and they keep all their cigs (which have all white packaging - no advertising allowed) behind a sliding door so it's near impossible to make an informed decision. I asked for whatever cheap locals buy. I got a pack of twenty Sterlings, king size. Oh shit, I needed a lighter too. I asked the kid if they had matches, expecting a free pack. Nope. He sold me a huge box of matches that I felt too awkward to deny. The Scot behind me was laughing and gave me shit, asking if I needed an ashtray too. He clapped my shoulder. He seemed okay.

I made it to Lebowski's. I ordered another Original. There was an older Englishwoman and Frenchman at the end of the bar, talking to a young Scotsman on the other side of the bar. They pestered him regarding his (Apparently) strange accent. Then the conversation devolved into him defending sexism and positing that it's simply impossible not to be. I ordered the Jeffrey, which had espresso, which is great. I basically slammed it and made for the door. This was a cool place, but relatively empty and just not what I was looking for.

I stepped out of the bar and lit a cigarette which, by the way, I really did hear referred to as a fag at least once in Dublin. I was smoking with another man outside the bar who I had asked for a light so I wouldn't have to pull out my lifetime supply of matches. Who needs that many matches? It's not the Stone Age. Anyway, the man was from Edinburgh. I asked him about Glasgow, mentioning it may be an upcoming stop for me. He politely informed it's a shit hole. And they're jealous of Edinburgh. And their accents are all slang - total shit. I guess Glasgow is Scotland's Detroit. His wife came out to join us. She immediately asked about Trump. I laughed and groaned and tried to sidestep a sore subject. She said he seems like a good thing for America and would finally pull the country forward. I mentioned his banning of Muslims from just the previous day, and she said that was good, and her country ought to do the same. I wished them a good night and left.

I made off in a random direction and soon came across a bar which I could see was empty save for the cute bartender. I entered. She asked me what I wanted and I asked for her recommendation. She offered an IPA. I made sure that was India, not Ireland. She seemed confused so I explained my previous experience in Dublin. She assured me it was a true IPA and also confirmed that the Irish IPA thing was weird. I mean, it definitely is, so.

I found her very easy to talk to. Her name was Telani and she had been living Edinburgh with her boyfriend for eleven months. She is Australian. She seemed excited about my trip and highly recommended Isle of Skye and Inverness. And the Scottish Highlands in general. I agreed and thanked her. She mentioned wanting to travel through America next year but it was looking tricky with Trump ()Shit that's a good punk band name). I apologized profusely.

We were getting along quite well, talking for maybe half an hour. Then James happened. I could see the look of exasperation on face as soon as he entered. He ordered a drink and we started talking.

James knows a lot about American politics and history. More than me, to be sure. And he liked that. That's really great for James. I could give a shit. I tried to have a polite if slightly disengaging conversation with him but he mostly just wanted to talk at me. After a bit I ordered another drink and stepped out for a smoke. James was truly exhausting. Came back in and made for the toilet. James was happy to invite himself along. I did my business quicker than him and on my way back up the stairs to the bar I crossed paths with Telani and asked  "He come here often?" "Yeah." "Lucky you." She smiled and laughed.

I spent a while yet there trying to talk to Telani but being constantly dragged into a political battle of which I was ill equipped and really could not possibly have been less interested in. Eventually she told him "Enough!" quite sternly, It sort of worked for a minute. I left earlier than I would have liked, but these things happen. I smiled and waved at Telani through the window as I passed by; she waved and gave me a tired sort of look, seeming to apologize for James. Fuck you James.

Next I found a pool hall. Pool was downstairs, food and drink upstairs. I had upstairs all to myself and the downstairs was mostly empty as well.The bartender was a very nice guy, probably about my age. I asked for a cheap pint and some garlic bread. When he brought that very good hot cheesy bread out to me, he asked if I wanted sauce and what kind. I asked his recommendation, to which he responded "Well mayo goes with everything." No. It doesn't. I requested marinara; he said he'd bring out what he's got. Moments later he appeared with three bottles of Heinz a sweet and sour, a "very spicy" which wasn't, and a sort of tangy sauce. They were all surprisingly good. I finished and made for my next stop. It felt like my next would probably be my last, so I was scoping for a good spot.

I entered a place called The Hanging Bat. It had a cool name and sign, which is basically all I need really. It also looked the most like a place where I could sit at the bar and drink craft beer which I was already sorely missing. That's exactly what I did. I had a pretty good IPA that I could feel making me drunker with each glug. I knew as I finished that pint that if I had another I'd start to get sloppy.

So I ordered another pint of that good good and headed to the toilets. They were labeled Batmen and Batwomen. Let me be clear. These are not Batman themed. They were just zoological themed. It was weird but, like, okay. The urinals were re-purposed kegs. neat.

I drank the beer and was sloppy drunk and left and headed for the hostel. I went the wrong way. I had to pee so I went into a cemetery. There was someone sleeping there so I peed further away. Also there was a great view of Edinburgh Castle lit by the moon and passing clouds. I took some pictures and headed back tot he hostel. The right way.

I walked way past the hostel. I turned back. I found the hostel. I made it to the room. I got into the top bunk and tried to sleep. I went to the bathroom and vomited a few times. I fell asleep eventually. Good job me.

I woke in the morning, far too early, to Noah in the bathroom. I was still very drunk. Slept poorly. I got up and showered which helped some. We decided we needed food quite bad. And also we needed to do some dang laundry. We were stinky boys. And also we were ready to head for Inverness.

We got food at a cafe. I got a Scottish breakfast of toast, baked beans, fried eggs, bacon, sausage, "hushbrowns" (truly I don't know if this was a typo or what, because they were sort of like hashbrowns and sort of like hush puppies and fuck I get it now), and mushrooms. It was so very good. And the coffee! I'm moving here for the coffee alone.

Noah told me he felt much better. Well, after sleeping 14 hours I fucking hope so.

Gravel In My Tread - Entry 3 (27 - 28 Jan, 2017)

Gravel In My Tread

excerpts from a travel journal

29 JAN 2017

Friday, 27 JAN 2017 -

We started with a French cafe. I got lots of bread and the best toffee latte. Noah got American pancakes. The waitresses were French and fucking beautiful. Dressed in black dresses with white fringes and frocks.

We wandered the city for a while, exploring the shopping district and mall, etc. We visited a tourism office and met a very helpful man who recommended a stop in Malahide, a coastal fishing village to the north. So we boarded a train to Malahide. We walked the small town a short time and then followed the coastline a few miles. Eventually we decided to turn back, the weight from our packs bearing down on us. We ate at a very pleasant seafood restaurant in town. I had cod and chips, then a sort of berry crumble for dessert. The lager was okay. Everything else was fucking perfect. I decided we should check out Malahide Castle. By the time we arrived there the gates were closed and locked - fifteen minutes too late. 

We took the train back to Dublin and made for the Riverhouse Hotel, which was maybe three doors down from the Apache we stayed at the previous night. We waited too long to book a cheap place, so we ended up having to "splurge" on a hotel. Which was nice. They had towels. The Apache did not. Which makes sense. (I think this might be why Douglas Adams is so adamant about bringing a towel along - hostels are so common and rarely provide their own towels)

Once settling in I could tell Noah was running on empty. I implied that he could stay in but he declined. Minutes later he said he would stay in. I went out. I haunted the dark city for quite a while. I was searching for a pub with live music and some friendly faces. I took a few pictures, took a few drinks a lone, then found a large, 3 story bar with live Irish music somewhere near the river. I got a drink and took to watching the man play. There was another man doing the same next to me so I chatted him up. Stuart, from York. He's traveled all over Europe and South Asia and is headed to America soon - San Francisco, Las Vegas, and New York. I made sure he knew they weren't anywhere near each other. He highly recommended I visit York. It's "Classic England." We cheersed and I moved on.

The next pub I visited I met a man who looked very similar to David Tennant. It was not him. Probably. Trent, from Ireland I think. He was so glad I was talking to him. Thought my accent was brilliant. Highly recommended Lake Bled in Slovenia. We'll see. I asked him what he did for work and he said simply "Scientist." I hugged him and moved on. I think Trent grew weed.

I think I missed a meeting in there somewhere. One of the first bars I went into was down near Whelan's, where I saw Astro the night before. It was a sports bar. The idea of watching European sports with a bunch of rowdy boy intrigued me. There weren't really any sports on. No rowdy boys. There were some cute girls. They weren't single. I wouldn't have done anything anyway. Not my style. I did find an IPA on tap. Now IPAs are easy to find in Ireland, but that's because they substitute India for Irish. They are not as good. So I paid something like seven Euro for a real IPA. The barman told me the price was due to the high ABV. I asked what it was, expecting something like seven or eight, as I've found beer abroad to be quite weak by comparison to the Portland beer bubble. He told me it was about 4.6%. Jesus. I told him that's basically a session beer back home, and that I regularly drink beer from 7-13% for four or five bucks. He told me that'd be far too dangerous here. He also told me to go to a football match. I'd like that.

So after all these meetings I'm sort of wandering aimlessly as I'm wont to do when travelling alone. I'm in the Temple Bar district and I'm a little drunk. I get to this large square area with a huge crowd and loud music. In the middle of the crowd is a freestanding pull-up bar. Men hang from it one at a time. There is a count-up timer next to it for everyone to see. I gather that the goal is to reach 100 seconds. I'm certain I can do this but the line is long and I'm drunk so I don't. There didn't seem to be a cost, penalty, or prize. Just fun. Everyone was cheering them on - it was great.

Nearby I found the source of the live music which was, at this moment, the main theme to Lion King. So I entered the absolutely packed bar. Very loud live music. American covers. Several different overpriced bars scattered throughout the building. I start drinking Heineken. I met a guy on a stag do with twenty other guys, of which he only knew two. We chatted for a few minutes, and when one of his friends came around he introduced me as his "new American mate." That was fun. I followed the music and squeezed as deep as I could into the crowd. I was exactly drunk enough to sing and dance with everyone.

At some point this very cute Irish girl walked toward me, touched my face, and said "Oh that is a good beard." She said she would be back in a minute. I went downstairs to pee. We met eyes later and smiled at each other and that was that.

Have I mentioned how unbelievably attractive the Irish tend to be?

Saturday, 28 JAN 2017 - 

I woke up still drunk which was good because the hangover would have been excruciating. It was nearing checkout time so I took a shower and stole one of the towels for future use. Fight me. We set off to find Noah a McDonald's. This kid has an obsession with American fast food. He's eaten a lot of Subway and McDonald's and convenience store sandwiches. I've eaten nothing but local cuisine, doing my very best to avoid any all American corporations. Even, especially, Starbucks. European coffee is fantastic.

He got McDonald's and I found a great bar serving a full Irish breakfast, consisting of two sausages, an egg, black and white pudding, baked beans, bacon, and toast. And coffee. It was delightful. Noah was not permitted to eat his meal in the bar. I didn't feel that bad. Eat local, dummy. From the upstairs window we watched as a petting zoo was erected outside, across the street. Rabbits, dogs, goats, mini horses. Kind of a weird petting zoo, really. The kids seemed into it.

We set off to get tattoos. I had made a sort of private goal of getting a tattoo in every country I really felt a connection to. My Temple Bar experience was enough to cement that feeling for Ireland. We went to Connected Ink in the Temple Bar district. I decided the night before to get the word DAANG with the Celtic trinity symbol for an A. This has a few meanings to me: First, I say dang a lot; second, Astro has dang tattooed on his knuckles, so this is a reminder of meeting him in Ireland; third, the Celtic trinity is Irish, where I got this; fourth, it looks dope as hell. The tattooist thought it was weird to get dang instead of damn.

Next, we went to the Guinness Storehouse. It was very busy. The are so many Asians at any sort of tourist spot. It's incredible. The tour was extensive, covering the whole brewing process, and featuring old advertisements, memorabilia, restaurants, bars, kids areas, shit to buy, etc. My goal was to reach the Gravity Bar, the top of the building where you can get a pint and look over the city. It was fucking packed and not very cool and Guinness still sucks. 

We fled and caught our first bus of the trip to the Metro Hotel Dublin Airport. The shittiest name for a hotel possibly ever. The bus trip went off without a hitch. Can I just mention how incredible Google Maps is with its offline maps feature? I can't imagine this trip without it. Anyway. We arrive at the hotel and search for a Subway for Noah. Not a joke. Due to the scarcity of anything else near us, I picked up a sort of breakfast burrito from the Eurospar that house a Subway inside it. Also a strawberry Cornetto. It was fine, but I feel like I'm part of the Cornetto Trilogy zeitgeist now, which is great.

Noah went to bed straight away. I tried but couldn't - I slept maybe two or three hours before waking Noah at 4:15 to get ready for our flight. 

Gravel In My Tread - Entry 2 (26 Jan, 2017)

Gravel In My Tread

excerpts from a travel journal

29 JAN 2017

My initial thought and intention was to use this journal every night before bed. As of yet, I have not achieved that a single time. My main purpose behind using this was to use it often so that I don't lose the stories of the day - the minutiae. However I'm also not really willing to subject myself to unnecessary stress in the interest of journaling. To some extent I need to just do what I feel like doing. Some memories will live and die with me. And that's okay.

Currently I sit in Dublin airport, awaiting a flight to Edinburgh, Scotland. Since I last wrote, plenty has happened. Like a lot. Let's see if I can hit it day by day.

Thursday, 26 JAN 2017 - 

Last entry I was still on the train. It was largely an uneventful experience. We terminated in Holyhead, Wales. We transferred from the train to a ferry. The ticket was actually called 'Rail and Sail' which I thought was sort of clever. There was a small amount of confusion at the station for the ferry, but was quickly resolved by politely asking employees for help.

We eventually made it to a transport shuttle that took us to the ferry itself. Now when I talk about this ferry, I have to say my expectations were humble. Like, I assumed this would be a very small affair. Maybe it would hold crew plus a couple dozen people, max. Wrong. This ferry was a fucking cruise ship. There was something like twelve decks to this thing. It held all sorts of cars and shit. On the first main deck that wasn't housing cars and whatever mechanisms that make the ship go, there were two or three restaurants and bars. A large and extremely green gift shop. A slots and lottery room. A cinema "playing new and current features" which was advertised on a sign sporting the cover art to Harry Potter and Philosopher's Stone. The next two decks up had rooms and a general lounge area. Above that was access to the outside of the ship.

Soon after embarking from the port, Noah got a pizza and I got a special Guinness and sandwich deal (steak and fried onion on baguette). I still don't like Guinness but it seemed appropriate. We sat at the bough of the ship, looking straight out the window. After maybe a half hour or so I noticed a few lounge banks down from us there was a stout man wearing a beanie with the Doomtree "No Kings" logo. I pointed this out to Noah, saying he would "definitely be at the Astro show tonight." Immediately after that I noticed the man sitting near him looked pretty similar to Oscar, the guitarist/keyboardist/whateverist for Astronautalis. It was about then that I realized the Doomtree guy was Brock, Astro's manager and the other was, indeed, Oscar. I worked up the courage to go say hello, which surprised the hell out of Oscar. Lying on the couch opposite Oscar was Andy, bundled in his coat and fast asleep. Oscar woke him before I could stop him, so I said hi and apologized for waking him. I retreated to my seat and we went about our business.

Next I went to the top deck alone to take in the outdoor view. There was a couple in a covered area there smoking. I asked if I could bother him for one. In the extreme wind this Irishman rolled me a cigarette with loose tobacco and lent me his lighter. We talked for a few minutes. He and his partner Franny (I didn't catch the Irishman's name) were to be married in a day or two. As I told him about my journey he responded to each sentence with "fair enough." Really, this guy said it like thirty times.

We parted ways and I went to the railing of the ship. Andy and Oscar came up and were taking pictures of the ship and sea and sky. I asked if I could get a shot of the three of us and they happily agreed. I used my disposable  (I brought two of these so I could force myself to really engage with at least 54 different sites) which they seemed to appreciate. Fucking hipsters, right? Them, not me. As they walked away Andy said "I want to see that when it's developed!" I promised he would.

I went back down to Noah and felt sea sick for the first time. I'm not sure if it was the sea, the food, the beer, the cigarette, or some combination of the lot. Anyway, gross story short - I made it to the toilet. I laid down for the rest of the ride. It was fine.

We exited the ferry and walked two hours to our hostel (Apache Hostel) in downtown Dublin. It was cold. It was dark. It was windy. We passed through some shit areas. Some teens offered me some drugs that weren't weed. Not sure what it was. I declined.

We arrived at the hostel which was also a pizza place which I thought was weird but I've never owned either so what do I know? WE had a very small private room which had a lock which is great. It also had a shared bathroom. The room was exactly big enough for two bunk beds pressed together, but only one was present. We basically alternated standing and sitting on the edge of the bed.

We left our bags and set off down the road Whelan's for Astronautalis. WE had a drink at the venue which had a sizable pub area. Later I would learn this pub was a shooting location for the Gerard Butler romcom P.S. I Love You. Neat.

An Irish rap group with actual instruments opened for Astro. Something and the Plus Ones. They weren't good.

Astro played immediately after. They were good. He mentioned Noah and I in his freestyle, something to the effect of "Americans coming to see me and meet me on the ferry." As they left the stage, they were clearly open to an encore. I've always wondered what happens if no one starts chanting. Like, we know you're planning an encore, you left the lights down and didn't start tearing down. If we don't chant do you just stay hidden, dejected? Do you come out anyway, all of us painfully aware we weren't interest in more? Anyway. the crowd began chanting "One! More! Tune!" I'm not kidding, they really shout "tune." It was adorable and endearing as hell. They played a few tunes and then went back off stage, and the crowd started chanting for another encore, "Oscar! Oscar! Oscar!" The last song they played was Troublehunters, but acoustic. Andy forgot the entire first verse and owned it by just freestyling through it.

We went back to the Apache and called it quits for the night.

Gravel In My Tread - Entry 1 (24 - 26 Jan, 2017)

Gravel In My Tread

excerpts from a travel journal

26 JAN 2017

I find myself currently on a train - a real, above ground, no messing around train - from London's Euston Station en route to Holyhead. Which I think is still England. And also I think it's pronounced "hollyhead". Actually it might be in Wales, but I don't know if that's part of England, Britain, or the UK. I don't really know what the difference is there. This country is very confusing to me. Well, it's simultaneously confusing and extremely familiar - in the sense that London feels like any other heavily populated area, but with fantastically, authentically old architecture. I love the vibrant colored doors on muted and musty buildings.

Today is the third day of our adventure. Originally, well over a year ago, Roxanne, Noah, and I bought tickets for three weeks to and from London. January 24 - February 14. Late last year Roxanne and I split and she dropped out of the trip. Noah was still game. I thought that was great because I was coming here no matter what, but I didn't particularly want to do it alone.

Tuesday, Jan 24 2017 - 

So! We woke early on 24 Jan (I know, I'm terribly inconsistent in my dating system. I see the value in both and find myself doing whatever spills out first). We boarded a plane from PDX and flew three hours to Dallas, Ft. Worth. Finding ourselves with three and a half hours to kill, we explored the airport. It was a big airport. Walking the extent of it alone took nearly an hour and a half. We busied ourselves with small talk and smoothie drinking for the remainder.

We finally boarded the two-level plane (a 747? Maybe?) and promptly took off, spending the next 9 or hours in the air. This flight went how you would expect: painfully boringly. WE slept off and on, mostly just occasional nodding dotted with seat adjustments and changing of music or the TV screens built into the back of the seats preceding us. Eventually we landed. We were now eight hours ahead of home, making it about 7AM 25 Jan, or almost exactly 24 hours after our first plane boarded. And now we had a whole day ahead of us that we simply couldn't waste.

I mean, we were in London!

Wednesday, Jan 25 2017 -

We navigated our way, slowly, through the customs line. There is a short form you're expected to have filled out, which we didn't. So we're working on that in line surrounded by hundreds of other people who clearly knew better than we. Now there's a line there on that form that asks for your point of contact while you're in the UK; given that our plans consisted entirely of "fly into and out of London" we did not have an address to offer. We left the field blank. To put it bluntly, the customs agent (who I think is actually referred to as an immigration agent) was not impressed and told us "I can't let you through without an address." We were told to step aside while we figured it out. Well, we figured it out alright! I had Noah Google hotels and we wrote the first one on the list down. Continuing to a different agent, we were passed through quite easily. Take that UK!

We made it out of the US and into the UK. We made it past customs. Now we had to get from the airport (Heathrow) to the city. We took a direct shuttle train. While convenient, I suspect it would've been cheaper and less touristy to have taken the tube. Oh well. As soon as we stepped off the train into Paddington Station, we finally really felt it: We were in London proper. What a magnificent station. High ceilings, tall beamed archways, glass and brick, at least a dozen different tracks. We had really made it somewhere else. Another world. Well. Another continent. Well. Another country.

I got a text from Drew. Drew is my best friend and roommate. He's watching my dog Remus while I' away. The text says "You up?" Yeah. "Where's the card you left behind?" In my nightstand. What's up? "Remus got into sugar-free gum. I have to take him to the hospital."

Now in case you're wondering: yes this really did take away from the incredible moment I was having in Paddington Station. And yes, this is not good news. And yes, everything turned out fine. And yes, that is how I spent more than half my travel budget in the first two hours of my trip.

I don't have loads more to write regarding London, day 1, but the remaining will have to wait. There's quite a view outside and I'm also due for some shut eye.

---

I'm back. Still on the train. We've realized we are on the wrong coach, so we tried to move to the correct one at one of the stops. The stop was so quick we didn't have time to get all the way there though. After taking in the surrounding seats, we decided if we're going to be stuck in the wrong seats we might as well go back to the nice ones. So we did. But there was a man in one of them so we went ahead and just grabbed some new ones. This coach is mostly empty anyway. No one seems to have noticed.

Back to London, yeah? It's 8 or 9 in our second morning of what feels like the same day. We set out blindly into the city and soon find ourselves in a small cafe. I got ham and eggs and chips. This turned out to be two eggs,a  couple mostly cold shavings of ham, and what we call French fries. I also got a coffee which was quite nice. Noah ordered a bacon sandwich. This, we found out, was quite literally bacon between two slices of bread. It was served with two slices of toast.

We moved on, completely aimless, wandering through the city. Through Westminster to Kensington Gardens. At least that's what I thought, but I'm looking at a map and that simply cannot be. I don't believe you can be lost should you lack a destination, so let me tell you plainly we were utterly unaware of our location. For most of the day. And likely most of the trip ahead of us.

The street signs are few and far between. They are not on posts but attached to whatever wall is present, affixed to any spot that isn't a door or window. Were we on an itinerary I can only imagine we should find this extremely frustrating. We chose not to mind.

Kensington Gardens is a seemingly vast park filled with trees and dogs and gray squirrels (I don't think they're gray back home, right?) and swans. We meant to continue to Hyde Park but took a wrong turn and promptly lost interest. I suspect this will happen quite often. After several more nondescript hours of walking through city and suburb, we did decide it was nearing time to find a place to hang up for the night, mostly because we really needed to get our bags off our shoulders for a bit. I have a very nice, large hiking bag which is perfect for a trip like this. Lots of space, adjustment straps, waist buckle - the works! I opted for a less imposing bag of canvas in an effort to not play up my role as American Tourist Who Overpacked. In fact, I brought very little and I'm quite proud of it.

We found a pub, the Jam Tree, and settled in at the bar. I asked for something local and he served us two lagers. We toasted to Noah's first legal drink. It was alright. He finished before me.

I think I just saw 200 cats in a field.

What a strange place.

Anyway, utilizing the free WiFi I booked a cheap hotel in Earl's Court and we set off to find it. It took us a while, but that was fine. We checked in and opened the door to find a room the size of three single beds, containing two single beds. There was also a small shower and the most powerful toilet I've ever experienced in my entire life.

We rested for a few and then set out to the London Eye in Westminster, utilizing the tube for the first time. I refused to let myself feel intimidated, so we easily bought tickets for our zone and hopped on a train. Which was going the wrong way. We got off at the first stop and headed the other way. Nailed it.

As soon as you step out of the Underground you are positively dumbstruck with the sight of Big Ben looming over you. It is absolutely beautiful and we were just in time to hear it chime 5PM. We continued across the bridge to the Eye. WE boarded with maybe 20 others who spent the entire time taking quite literally hundreds of selfies and passing off Nikons to get every formation of their families form every vantage point possible. Noah and I enjoyed the view of fog stricken London.

We then got sourdough pizza and returned to the hotel. We each got at least eleven hours of sleep. It was not enough.

Some things I missed: 

• Noah excitedly buying Jaffa Cakes from Tesco Express. He's heard of them a lot online - they're very good.
• When we got tot he hotel we decided to book a trip to Ireland for the following day, in part to see Astronautalis in Dublin
• On our way back from the Eye, Noah bought more Jaffa Cakes. I bought Jammy Dodgers. They are good.

Stupidumb - 10/9/16

It's not like I'm the first
 But it's not like that helps
It's not like it's my first
 But it's not like that helps
I know I have control
 But it's not like that helps
I rely on a thing
I rely on a person
I rely on a feeling
 But it's not like that helps
I don't know how many times I've heard it
 Or how many more to come
“You're going to feel it later”
 I'll have to let it all out
  So how am I supposed to say
I'm feeling it right now
 I'm suffering right now
I'm just too fucking proud
I know this isn't profound
 And it's not like
I'm the first
 But it's not like that helps

These New Things - 11/06/15

How many years when I
Stopped believing it was all for me
Lost faith in myself
Gave up on finding dreams
Hard to say
Hard to see
Hard to be
Feels like drifting through sea of faith
And all I see is faith
Faith in what I see
Where did all that freedom go
All I had to do was reach