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I’ve had a somewhat “taking it easy” weekend, and since I haven’t felt like doing very much it’s been hard to motivate myself into writing this entry. But tomorrow is Monday, new classes are starting, and there will be other things to think about. Now it’s time to make sense of my notes, which sometimes consist of a single word that was apparently supposed to jog my memory into remembering what I was supposed to remember. (It always seems obvious at the time.)

When I told people I was going to London, a common reaction was a warning about how expensive the city is. They weren’t exaggerating. One British pound (GBP) is roughly equal to $1.85 US at the moment, which means, for instance, if you would normally spend $10 on dinner, that same amount would cost you $18.50. Bored, needing something to read, buying a copy of British Vogue at the airport—the cover price is 3.40 GBP (there’s actually a symbol that represents GBP, and not the letters “GBP,” but my laptop doesn’t have it), which means the “real” price of that magazine is about $6.30. Somehow the dollar exchange rate with the Euro doesn’t seem so bad anymore.

But that is just an example, because I’m not complaining. I knew all that before I left, I still wanted to go, it was only three days—and how many times will I visit London in the future? (Remind me, if I ever decide to live there, that I will need a well paying job.)

I don’t know if it’s the time of year, or if they’re always there, or if I just happened to be hanging out in the right places, but there were a lot of tourists. Maps and cameras were out in full force—both of which I had with me as well, but I try not to be annoying about it. When I need to use my map, I move off to the side, out of the way, against a building. If I’m walking down a busy sidewalk and spot something interesting, I don’t stop abruptly and force those walking behind me to make sudden movements in order to avoid running into me. When I use my camera, it isn’t because I want to gawk at the large group of people waving signs, protesting the proposed ban on fox hunting.

That is not to say I didn’t have a good time. There were annoyances, but those can be found anywhere and it was completely worth the effort. It was alternately nerve-wracking (trying to find my way, entirely by myself, in a strange place), empowering (figuring out and navigating the Underground subway system—“the Tube”), and exhilarating (smells, situations, new sights). There were a lot of the red double-decker buses that the city is famous for—more than I expected.

I picked up my “A-Z map,” as recommended, once I arrived at Victoria station. Even though I knew my hotel was nearby, and I knew the name of the street, I didn’t have any idea where exactly it was. (I had been told that I would never get lost using this particular map. As it happened, I did get lost, but it wasn’t because of the map’s shortcomings. Sometimes I like to wander around without paying strict attention to where I’m going, and when I go to pinpoint my location later it can be a bit difficult. For example, I might have to pass a few streets in order to make sure I’m traveling in the right direction—and sometimes, I have to turn around and go the other way.)

When I found the hotel and checked in, the receptionist looked at the one bag I had with me and said, “Is that your only luggage? I thought Americans always travel with a lot of bags! Hahahahaha…” (My unspoken response: “Why no, ma’m, you must have me confused with a typical American.”) I went to my room and while I unpacked a few things, turned on the TV. What was the first show that I came to? The British version of The Weakest Link.

It was after 6:30pm by the time I left the hotel on foot to explore, and I didn’t get back until close to 11. Only stopping for dinner, which took roughly half an hour to order and consume, the rest of the time was spent walking. I walked from my hotel, past Victoria Station and Westminster Abbey, and followed the signs to Trafalgar Square. I got to Piccadilly Circus and found Soho and Chinatown, which is where I ordered dinner. (Hey, Swissfondue—“HK Diner,” right? It was delicious.) Then it was Leicester Square, and past the shops on Regent Street. By that time it was getting late, and I was tired, so I tried to find my way back.

Remember when I said that sometimes I just walk and walk, and have a hard time orienting myself later? This fact was most evident that first night. There was more than one “turnabout” to navigate; those big traffic circles with 5-6+ streets branching off from them, which were confusing when trying to retrace my path back to the hotel. It was hard to locate the right street, and harder to find landmarks, in the dark. I would walk around the traffic circle looking at all the street names, not finding the one that I needed, and then suddenly I would walk back the exact same way and find it. My feet were hurting because of walking so much, and I had a pain in my left leg that didn’t go away until after I got back to Amsterdam.

(Luckily, the next two full days I was there I bought a Day Travel card, which allowed me to use any form of public transportation in the city an unlimited number of times. I was told this would be the best way to go, and those people were right. I could jump on and off the Tube as much as I wanted, without having to worry about paying for a bunch of single trips. Since my leg was hurting so much from the extensive walking on Monday night, I never could have seen as much as I did if I’d been solely on foot.)

The following morning (Tuesday) I took the Tube to the Green Park station, and from there it was only a short walk across the park to Buckingham Palace. I timed my visit to get there before 11:30, which is when they do the “changing of the guard.” (It’s only done every few days, so luckily this was one of those times, since it was a gorgeous, clear, perfect-weather day.) A native Londoner introduced himself while we were waiting, and when he found out I didn’t have a set itinerary, suggested that I go to Westminster Cathedral and take the elevator to the top of the bell tower. With the promise of seeing great views of the city, I went there next—and the view was spectacular, as promised.

I’ll try to make the rest of this quicker. Places that I went during the next few days: I walked through St. James Park. I saw the “real” (unimpressive) London Bridge, continued down the “Queens Walk” past the HMS Belfast warship, and then across Tower Bridge (the impressive one) to the Tower of London. Reinvigorating myself with a cup of coffee on the way back, I watched a father buy his young daughter a cup of vanilla ice cream, with sprinkles, that she had asked for. Specifically, it had to have sprinkles. Once it was paid for, she got an attitude and wouldn’t eat it—regardless of his extensive cajoling—until he’d scraped off all the suddenly offending sprinkles. Kids.

I saw Big Ben. I walked down Oxford Street at 5pm (to experience the crowds), all the way from Oxford Circus to the Marble Arch, and bravely rode the Tube during rush hour. St. Paul’s Cathedral. Parliament Square. I saw an older white couple, accompanied by a young black son and a pre-teen Asian daughter (the kids referred to them as “mom” and “dad,” so I knew they were together). That was pretty cool.

When the weather wasn’t so nice, I visited museums: the National Gallery, the British Museum, and the Museum of London. The last two were my favorites—the British Museum is huge, and has exhibits and artifacts from all over the world. The Museum of London follows the growth of the city “through the ages,” from before it was a city up until modern day. I also went to Harrod’s: the immense, expensive, extremely busy store that London is famous for. It was fun for a while to look at the various things on display, but I didn’t stay for long because the crowds were getting on my nerves (narrow walkways, and employees all over the place).

Random: Some of the smaller road crossings don’t have traffic signals for pedestrians. Even if they are there, a “Look Left” or “Look Right” is usually written directly on the road. I found this helpful as a visitor, especially since I wasn’t driving and needed to be reminded that people would be coming at me from the “wrong” direction.

Watching crazy TV shows in the hotel: Wife Swap, Too Post to Wash, Ban This Filth. (Also: they don’t blur b*obs and b*tts on regular TV stations, like they do in the U.S.)

I think those are the major things. I had a few other observations, as well as some questions that came up, so I’m going to do some searching and see what I can find.