London In July: Day 1 of 3
Note: The entire day is summarised at the end with just the highlights. These might get long.
Last Friday my darling Claire, my not-quiet-as-darling friend Karen and my totally-not-darling-in-any-way friend Jp and myself all went to London for the weekend. Our main goal was to see the excellent Broadway production Avenue Q, but we packed in a lot more besides.
The weekend started Friday evening with the flight from Cork to Gatwick. While the others had all recently flown and spent the trip reading I had not been flying since I was 14 or 15. Because of this I was fascinated with everything! It was such a thrill feeling the power of the engines, the sudden acceleration and the take off, as well as the landing. Claire and I were in the front row and the two stewards at the front of the plane got a kick out of seeing my face on take-off. I was like a baby! It was awesome.
We arrived in Gatwick after a 45 minute to an hour flight and got a train into Victoria Cross. Due to a mistake entirely my fault we ended up getting the underground from there further into the city only to realise that the hotel we were in was back near Victoria station. We got a taxi back to the hotel, passing the station on the way. Once we got checked in we popped out briefly for food and brought it back to the room to eat. Tired and full we collapsed into the beds, with Jp taking the sleeping bag and none of us stirred until the alarm clocks rang the next morning.
In Brief:
Flight from Cork to Gatwick was great. Got to hotel after a minor misadventure, had food and slept.
Read London In July: Day 2 of 3
Read London In July: Day 3 of 3
2 comments:
Like I said, the mistake with the hotel wasn't entirely your fault - I have to take some of the blame. I asked if I had the right hotel on Google Maps when you were half asleep and I didn't ask you to check the address on the booking, so I have to take some of the blame for not being more careful when getting directions to the hotel for us.
I'm totally darling! I'm ladylike and demure!
When I'm not talking about my poop.
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