Needless to say our next day didn’t begin until approximately 1:00 pm, when we all finally woke up to our hotel room which actually smelled like a high school boy after a bender. Or maybe, three almost thirty year olds after a bender. No – definitely high school boys. I blame Blake. There is no way Katie and I contributed even the tiniest amount to the boozy, sweaty, gross smell of our hotel. He just must be THAT stinky.
After finally rustling up enough energy to face the terribleness that is the SUN, we headed back to Soho for a restaurant called The Breakfast Club (yes the 80’s were well represented.)
We all ordered “healthy” dishes consisting primarily of bacon, and stumbled back out into the streets of London to face 3:00 pm.
Due to my unhealthy love of all things yarn and fabric, I had been incessantly talking about the Liberty Store in SoHo, much to Blake and Katie’s chagrin. However, with their defenses down (and hangovers up), I took the opportunity to “innocently” lead them right to the store. And it was amazing! Maybe not for them, but seriously? Heaven? Is the Liberty Store. Two hours later, we emerged – me with the tiniest bit of fabric they would allow me to buy (NOT CHEAP – thanks, Terrible Exchange Rate….thanks A LOT.)
Due to our sickly status, we spent most of the day wandering up and down SoHo
– stopping only to eat cupcakes – before finally choosing a place to eat based solely on the name “Ping Pong” and the window advertisement promising “Delicious steamed morsels.” (Kristi – “Wait, is the name of that place really Ping Pong? It is! We are going there!” Katie/Blake – “Um, I don’t know..” Kristi – “Look what it says on the window!” Katie/Blake – “Oh. We missed that. We are DEFINITELY going there.”) Now, I don’t know about you – but delicious steamed morsels? Gets me every time. And guess what! It was right! Ping Pong was some sort of Westernized dim sum place full of delicious steamed morsels!
We ate and ate and ate before once again finding ourselves at Gordon’s Wine Bar. What can we say? It’s an amazing place.
Also – if you find yourself in a damp, dark, small wine cellar surrounded by tons of people drinking wine and eating cheese. BEWARE. There are farters. And those farts are like a thousand tiny deaths for your nose. Cheese farts. The WORST.
We ended the night at a Sherlock Holmes themed bar, where we amused ourselves by repeating, “Elementary, my dear Watson” one billion times (no we didn’t.)
Apparently, by the time we left the Sherlock Holmes’ Pub at the UNBELIEVABLE (to Londoners) hour of 12:30 – all taxis had packed it in for the night – leaving us stranded with seemingly no way to get home. HOWEVER – London is surrounded by millions of possible bike rentals, sprinkled throughout the town and I was DETERMINED to ride one home – despite the fact that our hotel was definitely not a quick “bike ride away.” But alas, no matter how much I begged, I was unable to convince Katie that biking in shorts and tights would not turn her into a bike-riding-icicle, and I was left with a promise to rent a bike the next day (LIES.) After approximately 30 minutes of walking, we found a taxi – celebrated heaters – and arrived back to our mercifully aired out hotel room.
Our last day in London was our final sight seeing opportunity, since we wasted an entire day recovering. We spent the morning at The Tower of London hanging with my friend Mr. Beefeater
(seriously, take the tour. It’s good – I am usually anti-tour, but not this one! I am pro-this-specific-tour.) (Next side note – it took me 4 days from when we took the tour to realize that Beefeater Gin and the Beefeaters are the same. I have no idea why I thought there were multiple Beefeaters in history, but I DID and I AM DUMB.) For those who don’t know – all sorts of bad stuff happened at the Tower of London. Heads? Cut off. Lots of them. Prisoners? Tortured. It’s basically exactly like Game of Thrones – but less sexy. Mr. Beefeater (not his real name) gave us all sorts of tidbits during the tour – but surprisingly the only one I really remember involves poop. Apparently the old moat around the tower was essentially a giant lazy river for poop rafts (I don’t think our proper British guide said poop – he probably said “human waste,” but you know – POOP.)
We headed to Covent Gardens to check out the market scene (not great – unless you are a big fan of “Mind the Gap” t-shirts, which – who isn’t?), ate some cookies and hot chocolates, got fatter, and generally had a relaxing day. Blake spent the entire day on some sort of wild internet goose chase involving some exclusive whiskey he recently received from his brother for graduation, four square, and various London locations. He was thwarted at every turn. No free whiskey for him! Katie and I spent the majority of this trek hiding from the wind in various doorways and phone booths.
We avoided ALL BOOZE and went to bed early so we could be bright and shiny for our flight to Dublin.