A Room With (No) View

Unfortunately, I have finally been moved to the smaller room. I’ve taken to calling it the naughty closet, because that’s exactly what it feels like. “You won’t pay an extra 10 pounds for a room? Naughty...get in the closet until you learn better.”

There is just enough room for a bed, a table, and, in the most improbable renovation decision, a sink. What was the reasoning behind the sink? A compromise, perhaps? “You don’t get a bath in the room, but we’ll meet you halfway by giving you a sink next to your bed so you can listen to it dripping all night long and dream that you are wealthy enough to afford a proper room.” There is no cross breeze and the view stinks. Still, I am saving some money, and I’m finally meeting the other guests...who for some reason never come out of their rooms until I am trying to make the mad dash down the hall in my towel after a shower.

Tomorrow I am going into the heart of London again. On my first trip in, I spent most of the time getting lost, but with my new and improved map I think I’ve got this tourist thing licked. This time I am bringing my camera, and to all the people who look at me with contempt while I block the sidewalk trying to frame the perfect shot I say, “Sod you.”

Less than a week left. I’ll miss the people I’ve gotten to know, and I won’t miss the crazy people who can’t take a hint. One thing I’ve learned is that the people who live here are either really nice or really insane. This is a city of extremes.

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What I’ve learned today - Shopkeepers do not know what “flip flops” are, no matter how skillfully one tries to pantomime it for them.

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