9/10/09 – 9/11/09: London, England
If I’m going to get mugged on this trip, please let it be by a British person. I’ve never been so happy listening to strangers say mundane things as I have been the past 24 hours. Why? All the strangers have been British. While Zhou and I were standing in the customs line at London Heathrow, I heard what had to have been an angel whisper, “Excuse me sir – may I pinch your pen for a bit?” I turned around and it was just a 30-something man, but honestly, with his accent he could have asked to pee on me and I would’ve given the same over-enthusiastic “yes!” in response. If I were British, I would definitely follow in Colin’s footsteps in Love, Actually and move to the States. I could get whatever I want.
There is one thing British that I hate though: the time zone. It is almost 2:30 here in London, and I’m not the least bit tired. Zhou and I and our newfound friend, Sven, have been lying in the circular chairs at the “Giraffe Juice and Coffee Bar” in Terminal 5 here at the airport since about 11.
[Side note: Sven is the first traveler whom with we have had the pleasure of talking to. He’s on his way from Dubai to see his parents back home in Germany. It amazes me that two people heading from the U.S. to Kenya can wind up sharing a couch area with a guy flying from the U.A.E. to Germany.]
I actually did fall asleep for a bit, but since the air conditioning guys decided they were going to freeze out the Abominable Snowman, I’ve been wide awake. If this were the Newark airport I’d be starting a riot. But here the brisk British A.C., the soothing 80 decibel sounds of the squeaking British escalator and the lovely bright British terminal lights all have a way of making me feel good about myself and my lack of sleep. I could get used to this. After all, Edison only needed a couple hours of sleep per night. He turned out well – maybe I could try to be more like that guy.
Pictures of the Day: Zhou and I all wrapped up in our silk sleeping bag liners trying to get some sleep on the first night of our honeymoon. Can you tell who is who?