I am seriously becoming an extremely bad blog writer (blogger?). I guess if I get that job I applied for, being a professional internet commentator on important political and social events (so a glorified blogger), I would have to step up my game! However, I have applied to about 16 jobs using Blue Hen Careers and other related databases which is suppose to help/ almost guaranteed me a job or internship. Sadly, after poling other users of this “Oh so prestigious software” I’ve found that no one I know has ever landed a job using it. Great, I suppose that was a wasted afternoon. A quick message: ANDERSON COOPER, IF YOU ARE READING THIS THEN HIRE ME AS YOUR INTERN!.. I’m the girl with the weird name and the less-than-impressive resume. I’m very good at getting coffee, and playing with dogs. Also, I know how to read, and I watch CNN on the occasion if I’m in a hotel and they don’t have E!.
Enough digressing, no one wants to hear about my depressing view of the job market, so, off to my London adventures. I would have to say that London, and England in general is a utopia of some sorts. The people are super nice, the city is so rich with history, and public transportation is easy to use! (Unlike New York when all you have is Uptown or Downtown, I’m not from the city New York; please give me some street names which explains what Downtown is. If I’m in Soho where the numbers stop, HOW AM I SUPPOSE TO KNOW?!) Although the first night getting there are an adventure of all adventures. We get ready to take the bus, to the other bus to the bus station, to take a taxi to the airport. Now all of that was easy. Once in the airport it already felt like I was in England. I later learned that Malaga, the city in Spain, is like the equivalent to Cancun for the UK. After braving the Burger King and Pizza Hut line (They really didn’t have many choices) our flight had been posted and we proceeded to the gate. Upon arriving late, we realized we are basically the last few in the line, and as if it couldn’t get any worse, we were flying Ryanair.
A brief explanation and warning on Ryanair. DON’T DO IT. Really, it’s not worth it. You are only allowed one personal item, so either a roller or a purse, not both. Not holding a purse is the equivalent of not wearing a shirt. I felt so naked and like something was missing at all times. Then, they make you cram your carryon into a metal death trap that is so small, not even plastic bag with three shirts could fit. Finally, you have to take it in and out yourself. I’m pretty sure that once your bag enters said metal death trap, the Ryanair people press a button to make it clamp down on your bag so you can’t get it out. So they have to charge you 40 euro to check your bag. Fortunately, my bag passed the test (Probably thanks to the wonderful luggage designers at Guess) But my friend wasn’t so lucky, and had to watch 40 euro go down the drain. Ireland, I know you’re in an economic crisis. Aren’t we all? But do you really have to be as greedy as possible? Be like Southwest, they are doing great! You also get a free drink. Take a gander at their business plan, please.
After enduring the game show of the Ryanair flight where they tried to sell you everything they possibly could, and the guy sitting next to me who talked for the whole 2 hour and 40 minute flight, we were finally in London. We exited the plane as happy as clams to discover we needed our passports stamped. Well, that was annoying. After being interrogated by the less than pleased customs man, we could finally grab our bags and find the train!
Finding the train; struggle one. Okay, well maybe it wasn’t that hard to find but it was hard for me personally to purchase the ticket. My parents who always think ahead like to save the extra money from other countries we’ve visited incase we visit again. My father brought me some extra pounds and I planned to use them to buy this train ticket into the city of London. I approach the desk, and am greeted by a nice lady that sounds exactly like my grandmother! (Shout out to Esme! J ) She told me in the most pleasant voice with a smile on her face that my ‘bank notes’ are no longer accepted cause they are too old. At first I was confused by bank notes… I didn’t have any bank notes; I had bills, cash money, or cabbage. Then it came to my attention later that they are called bank notes (says so on the top of the bill, whoops. England- 1, Ignorant American-0. So I had to run upstairs back into the airport to get my money exchanged to find myself running into yet another problem.
‘What?! You can only exchange 100 pounds?!’ Now what am I going to do with 100 pounds in London of all places? Buy 3 Cadberry bars and a bottle of room temperature water? (Because cold water is a pound more!) ‘Listen Sir, I’m an American. An American tourist, a poor helpless girl. I need to pay for my hostel in cash tonight. That’s 90-some pounds in cash. I need you to exchange more.’ As he smiled he expressed to me that couldn’t sleep if he sent a young girl to forage her way through the streets at this time of night, so he exchanged all my pounds, and didn’t even take out the service charge. God Bless the Queen!
After buying the tickets we jump on the train and endure the 45 minutes train ride to Liverpool St, London; where we then had to find another bus. After asking around and just kind of winging it, we hopped on our bus, without having to pay, probably because we looked pathetic, to ride another train. However, after we scrambled and bought other train tickets, we stood on the empty platform for a few minutes. It reminded me of a Law and Order scene where someone was going to jump out and push me on the tracks. Although, now I know that would’ve been ineffective, because there were no trains for the rest of the night because it was too late. We were screwed. Alone in London with no sense of direction at 1:30 am. We finally found some drunk and fellow lost people looking for a cab. They flagged one down for us and we got in hoping that this would be our ticket into our nice bed. After getting in the cab and telling the man our address, he turns to us and expresses that we picked the worst cab driver in London, and he doesn’t know this area at all. Excuse me sir, but if you don’t know the roads of London, why in god’s name are you a cab driver, like really?! After driving around in the dark for a while (metaphorically and literally) mind you, his meter is still on even though he’s lost. We finally make it there and get our rooms. We thought our trouble was over for the night, but that was just the beginning.
Upon entering our room we discover that there are people in our beds already, asleep. Well of course they are asleep, it’s about 2 am on a Thursday. We tell the manager about our discovery, and to our dismay, he wakes up the other people in our beds, shouts at them, and attempts to change the sheets himself while me and my friend are standing there awkwardly. After many apologies to the two girls who’s sleep we disturbed we finally hit the hay and secretly prayed that they wouldn’t leave with all our belongings in the middle of the night to get back at us. After all, I need that hair straightened to survive, heads would roll if it was gone in the morning.
The next morning we were awoken by the sound of a tornado, no wait, make that a blow dryer. A blow-drying session that lasted no shorter than 40 minutes. Although it was a great alarm because we were able to get up and start the day. I started out the morning with a traditional English breakfast, which consisted of two eggs, toast, baked beans with mushrooms, sausage, and bacon. Needless to say, I was energized for the day. We went on a walking tour and learned a lot about the city. Including a few funny stories about people breaking into Buckingham Palace. After the tour we took advantage of teatime, with those adorable cucumber sandwiches, and visited some free museums!
We headed to a pub afterwards but realized that nightlife in London was way different than nightlife in Spain. In London everyone went out to pubs after work, where in Spain the majority of people are out at 3 am. After visiting the pub, we went back early for a good night sleep, and for the fear of getting stranded with no public transportation working.
The next day was filled with another walking tour of Old London, and some fish and chips and sticky toffee pudding in order to sample the local cuisine. By this time we were getting a hang of the tube system. The final day we spent at open-air markets. My absolute favorite thing in the world! So many worthy impulse purchases, but they were all worth it!
The time in London was lovely, however soon it was time to travel back to Spain with a final straw, Ryanair tried to con me into checking my bag, alas it didn’t work, and soon enough I was in home sweet Granada.
This past week in Granada had been full of rain. Down pours of rain, and I thought that it never rained here. There was no much rain that our trip to the Alhambra was rained out. I guess there’s always next time to see it! Also i got food poisoning, can't wait for American food cooked by Halina herself. In other news, I have midterms this week and next week! Yikes, better hit the books.
Oh also. I’M GOING TO FRANCE. I’m loving this Eurotrip thing, can’t I just do this forever?
Ciao!
