21 March 1998           6:34 AM

The following is a verbatim journal entry, to show how well my brain was functioning most of the time (not!):

            Woke up at midnight, felt awake, lots of sounds outside.  Probably fell back asleep at 1.  Woke up with alarm at 6am, sleepy but refreshed.  Felt much better.

      Showered, took a while for water to heat.  But light did come on.

      Strange cartoon shows in the AM. "Granny Banany" is pretty creepy.  Soap in shower probably saves money because it doesn't dissolve in water.

    21 March 1998           1:27 PM

I survived the morning, but just barely.  Oof.  I'm tired.  I walked to several cash machines (it was a very quiet morning, nobody around, Sunday mornings in London are sloooooow), and every one of them warned, "Your bank has refused this transaction."  Minor panic.  But I still had £20 in pocket, survival money at least.  Besides, I do have my credit cards, so I know, consciously, that I'm not in any trouble.  But just the thought that my ATM card seems to be dead over here is disconcerting ... maybe cuz it makes me feel that much more ... far away?  Alone?  HELP, I'M LOST!!!

Okay, let's not panic.  Stay busy, that'll help. 

So I walked to Portobello Market, getting slightly lost on way there (are you noticing a pattern here?).  Anyway, I finally found it, wandered ... expensive antiques.  Ouch.  Really expensive.  It was 7am and only the hardcore antique people were there, for the most part; haggling over antique cigarette cases is not really my thing, though, so I was less than enthralled.

But a little later on, things became more festive, as more people came to wander and haggle.  I found cool Easter candy at Woolworth's, Liverpool "Pride of Merseyside" football scarf for Sibyl (£5) plus kitschy "Mind the Gap" brolly for me.  Two cigarette boxes & eyeglass case for Dad.  I didn't haggle.

I also found neat compasses, but wasn't sure if Arno, my brother, would like one (he's a hiker), cuz they're pretty ancient and more for looks, I wouldn't trust one to get me across a room.  So no compass. 

I hate to keep saying I'm tired, but man, am I tired.  I came back to the hotel, after the morning market, pretty much wiped out.  Plus I hadn't eaten breakfast, so that didn't help any.

Oh, I finally found a cash machine at 8:15 that would okay my transaction.  I think it has to do with time lag, being it was around 11pm PST when I tried to use my ATM card over here; I think the communication lines get futzy as the clock changes to the next day.  That's my theory, anyway.

Sunday morning in London is very quiet; Sunday afternoons are not.  On the walk back to the hotel, about noon-ish, there were lots and lots of people about.  I was too tired to listen for accents.  But I'm sure there were lots of German and Italian ones.

On the way back, I went to Queensway Tube station for my weekly travelcard.  £16.60.  Now they’ll think I’m a local!  Yeah, right.

When I got back to the hotel, I noticed the scarf I got for Sibyl was dirty.  I washed it, but it was burned, actually singed along one edge; apparently it had hung too close to a heater at one time.  Rats.  I know I could make up some dramatic and romantic story as to why it got like that, but in a moment of honor decided I should just go back and get another scarf.  Without burns.

So I went back to Portobello Road.  First I took the Notting Hill Tube, then a shorter but still long walk to the Market.  I got a new scarf, then, as long as I was there, I went back to Woolworth for goodies.  And then I found a cool Scottish shop, and heard Andean music played, which was entrancing [they were playing on a street corner on Portobello Road].  I got their CD for £10, so I guess in the balance of things, it was worth going back.

Back home.  New film in the camera.  Looks like they changed my towel.

Had sausage for "lunch" at the Market, from a kiosk.  A couple of £, I think, for some questionable meat and a rather dry roll.  Okay.  Off to Covent Garden!

Kensington Palace is not far from my hotel, by the way, on the walk to Portobello Road.

21 March 1998       9:11 PM

Can you say exhausted?  I took bus #12 from Bayswater to Piccadilly, walked down streets, found the Tube entrance at Bond (?) street, and took the Tube to Covent Garden. 

I've found where the center of the tourist universe in London is, for today, anyway.  Yow!  The word "crowded" is a major understatement.  And I do so love crowds.  Note the sarcasm.  Ugh.

Anyway, I explored Covent Garden; mostly I saw lots of construction, cranes everywhere.  There's a map on the wall here that shows whatever it is they're constructing, but between my general exhaustion and the fact I couldn't make heads nor tails of the map, I don't know what they were building.  Doc Marten's has a store here that's a lot like Nike World.

I went to the entrance of the London Transport Museum, which is literally right across the street from Covent Garden, and was going to go in, then I decided to find food first.  So I walked.  And walked.  And walked.  Nothing.  Unless I wanted to wait in line for hours.  Double ugh.

So I bought bottled water & a candy bar (Whispa Bar, I think.  Cadbury, I'm sure; Cadbury makes 99.9% of all British chocolate, it would appear).  Of course, once I got myself some munchies I found a cheapo burger place, with a seating area (stools, anyway) so I could actually sit down.  It was in the Market, upstairs.  The guy behind the counter asked where I was from (my darned accent gave me away every time!), and when I said "Seattle," he told me that he'd heard on the news that Seattle had been blown away by tornadoes.  He sounded very serious, so I just smiled and nodded.  Fortunately for me, he was wrong.  Oh, well.

Then on to the London Transport Museum. 

Very cool!  I stayed 90 minutes, tried taking several pictures inside in very low light [they came out nicely, by the way].  The museum has big, beautiful skylights, but when the day is dark and cool and rainy, as it was today, they didn't count much towards illumination. 

I bought posters for me, Bev, and Nick; a Paddington Bear and key chain for Sibyl; a key chain for Linda; a mug for Sis; and a mug for me.  There's lots of cool souvenir stuff to buy at the Museum, and I just have this big soft spot for all things motor driven and/or with wheels, so I had a great time.

I finally left at 5:30, and walked back to Piccadilly, getting lost along the way, as is my style.  I tried to find the loo at Leicester Square; the men's was closed.  Plbbt!  Along the way, I took pictures of "The Mousetrap" at the St. Martin's theater, where I actually saw the play when I went to London back in '96 -- by 1998 it had been playing for 46 years straight!   Then I walked back to the loos at Piccadilly, took a bus on Regent Street (#12 again), and did not notice that this particular bus #12 made its last stop on Oxford Street, only halfway back to Bayswater.  I didn't notice until I got to Oxford Street, that is.  Oh, well, it was a pleasant enough night for a walk, and I didn't trust my luck with any more buses for this evening.

So I walked to Bayswater, and home.  Dinner was "take away" from Burger King.  The girl was cute, and I got a "Spicy Beanburger."  Sounded interesting.  Urp.  Next time, I'll stick with a Whopper.