After a 3 hour train ride from Lyme Regis I found myself encumbered by my large blue backpack, trying to make sense of the chaotic London Waterloo station. I met Anna Thornton's 17 year old son James right past the turnstiles, and we dropped off my backpack at left luggage (costing an unfortunate 8£). Within the next 2 1/2 hours we powered through London on foot, and via the Tube, seeing some of the most renowned bits. The Houses of Parliament topped by Big Ben sat squarely across the Thames, blocked by the London Eye, an extremely tall Ferris wheel with slowly rotating white pods. Walking along the river we saw the Globe (Shakespeare), and the Gerkin, designed by an architect blatantly compensating for something. We also walked through Trafalgar Square, which is swarming with pigeons, and hosts a huge statue of Horatio Nelson at the centre (British spell check). We also saw Buckingham Palace, which is as grand and ridiculous as one would expect. It was easy talking to James, and hanging with someone my age was refreshing. We got home about 5, and I met Anna and Geoff. Anna works at King's College, and Geoff works at UCL (University College London) as a chemistry professor. Geoff, like Kevin Benfield, attended Oxford University, which is pretty incredible, so I will have to ask him about his experience. So far I have met 3 people who have went to Oxford (Sarah from Cotswold Archaeology, Kevin, and Geoff), and the first two that I met gave me a really clear idea of what Oxford would be like to attend. Apparently you have a tutor who you work with either 1 on 1, or some similar proportion so you get a very individualized education. And Kevin said that when he went people did your washing, made your bed, and cooked your food, so I am liking the sound of that. There are only two things about which I have reservations. 1 I am not positive on what I want to do later on, so their mantra of specializing early may lead me in the wrong direction. and 2 I am probably not going to get in. Neither of these things seem particularly solvable, so I suppose I will have to think on that. Anyways Geoff and Anna are very cool people and both seem extremely intelligent. For dinner we had 3 courses essentially. It started with some goat's cheese and pears which was delicious, moved on into a delicious omelet, and finished triumphantly with strawberries and cream. Afterwards James took it upon himself to educate me in the ways of British film. We watched a black comedy movie by Guy Ritchie called Locked Stocked and Two Smokin' Barrels. It was very violent, subtly funny, and frustratingly accented. Yesterday we saw two main things. Camden Market, and the Tate Modern. I bought an Oyster Card which is a brilliant invention. You buy it for 3£, then put money on it, and you get discounts whenever you go on the Tube, and the bus system. It is essentially a debit card for public transport that has the magical quality of lowering prices for you. So we took the Tube to Camden Market at around 1. We grabbed lunch, which for me was some delicious thin crust pizza marketed by an Italian guy who looked curiously like Mario, and for James was some curry. There weren't any conventional "tables" around, but there a surprisingly comfortable row of scooter seats welded to a long counter. The market had a lot of really cool vintage stuff, though a lot of it was rather expensive. I saw a miniature VW Bus decked out with the Union Jack that cost 21£, and a lot of really cool bongo drums, paintings, strange figurines, army vintage, normal vintage, leather jackets (I don't think I could pull one off, though I was tempted), and people who smelled vaguely of ganja. Then we went to the very spacious Tate Modern that sits on the Thames. Luckily it was free. James and I walked around for a while, laughing at the bullshit explanations of some of the paintings that could have been drawn by a artistically inclined 4 year old. One particularly hilarious painting was an entirely red canvas, except for a purple stripe running down the right side. To paraphrase, the little plastic sign read "The red with a vivid purple stripe reminds the viewer that they are "there". Like somehow when I look at this purple stripe I realize that I'm thinking in the future, when really, I should be living in the now. And that this painting symbolizes the struggle between ambition and reality. Suddenly, when I stare at this painting, it dawns on me that my need to prove myself stems from a deep seated desire to please my father. What a load of crap. However there were some pretty cool ones. I really liked one by Jackson Pollock, and the Andy Warhol exhibit was pretty incredible. A couple paintings were optical illusions that conveyed physical depth, or wriggled before your eyes. But one thing really blew me away. Picasso died in 1973. What?! I thought he was long gone. Like 19th century. I'm still reeling. Then we went home after stopping at King's Cross. It cost me 1.80£ but the fleeting images of Harry and Ron sprinting towards Platform 9 3/4 was worth it. So after a quick look around, we left, James pretending to read a sign while I dabbed my eyes. We got home, played a little Call of Duty, and watched Snatch, another Guy Ritchie film. I went to bed, and had a great dream about Hey Arnold coming back on the air. But I'll split this into two posts to give your eyes a rest.
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