Tag Archives: Piccadilly Circus

Goodbye, America, for a While

7 Jul

So I up and left the USA.  Some of you know I’ve been planning my escape for a couple years; for others, this may be news.  I’m not leaving for good, unfortunately.  I am just taking a solid 5 weeks to explore the wonderful world of European beers.  A study, if you will.  If you won’t, 5 weeks of drinking with a side of debauchery.  That’s just semantics.

I’m sitting in this generic internet café off Piccadilly Circus right now; mostly, I just don’t feel like finding my hostel.  It’s apparently just a subway ride and a short walk away, but I’ll go in a bit.  Sometimes it’s just good to procrastinate by writing to a world of blog readers that may or may not really exist.  Anyway, I’m glad I made it to this cafe, because I kept passing out in the tube and thought I’d miss my stop.  I didn’t really know if Piccadilly Circus was the ideal stop anyway; I didn’t map out my hostel in relation to London at large.  But hey, Piccadilly Circus is kind of in the middle of shit, and it’s one of the few stops I recognized.  And now that I’m online, it seems the hostel isn’t that far.  And so my freestyle adventuring works out.

I flew here on Kuwait Airlines with just a backpack.  I didn’t really plan to backpack through Europe after college like one of those damn cliché college graduates that backpacks through Europe after college…but taking a big bag seemed like a big commitment.  I’ve done that before, and I promise you: the wheel always breaks.  Every time.  And then you’re walking down goddamn Calle San-whatever in the pouring rain, cursing this 45-pound dead weight bag and wondering why you had to bring a hair dryer, a bathroom scale, and your pet boulder collection in your stupid luggage.  I digress, but you know what I mean.

Anyway, I’m in London this week.  Other destinations include Munich, Brussels, Copenhagen, Prague, and Budapest.  The main reason I’m here, as I said, is to get the full-blown beer experience in these various nations.  Sure, I’ve had the imported stuff in the US, but there are quite a few beers that stay in their homelands.  So I came to them.  Here in London, I’m looking at cask ale.  I’ve had cask ale interpretations in ‘merica, but you gotta try the original stuff.  Who knows?  Maybe it’s just watery crap.  Just kidding.  We shall see.

I’m really kind of bummed, because Kuwait Airlines gave us all this damn food–two hot meals–I mean, what is this?  And now I’m not hungry enough to eat for a while.  American Airline companies make some hot millions taking one olive off every sad, little salad they serve their customers (if they serve food anymore–who even knows), and Kuwait is serving up braised lamb and cake and chickpea curry and pakoras and like a whole continental breakfast over there.  I really don’t understand flight disparity.  I really don’t pretend the airline industry as a whole is a logical, ethical operation, but I’m harsh and overly tired so I’ll shut up about it for now.  I guess the downfall of Kuwait Airlines is that most of the announcements on the TV were in Arabic, and I really couldn’t read it, to be honest.  I definitely know zero Arabic.  It’s very cool looking, though.  They also play this very meditative music as you descend, which is half cool and half reminiscent of an overpriced yoga studio.  I stopped asking questions when I was assigned seat 36H.  I don’t know.  It was a big ass plane.  I just gave up and went to sleep and ate braised lamb whenever the flight attendant woke me up.

More later.

Advertisements