NOTE! The library computers got rid of telnet so I can't access my e-mail. If you feel like mailing anyways, mail me at veralee@hotmail.com - okay? I'll figure it out eventually, I hope.

London, Sunday May 9, after 3 pm

So... I persuaded Dylan to flop around London on buses and trains and it was fuuuun. I saw SoHo and Trafalgar Square and Carnaby Street and Picadilly Circus and this and that and heh, where one of those horrid, awful nail bombs had detonated a few weeks ago (*sigh*:()

Dylan also bought me what I still think is my favourite thing from this tiny stay in London - a t-shirt that says 'Mind the gap' on it - a phrase that utterly annoyed me on the subway trains and eventually I said 'someone should put it on a t-shirt!' - well somebody had, so he got it for me. :)

In the evening I wanted to see Hyde Park coz they always made such a big deal out of Hyde Park in my 5'th grade English text book so we went and hah there was the speaker's corner and I just got sucked in. So many loonies! FunFun! I got particularly interested in one of the speakers who was blubbing this and that about paganism in Scotland and african-americans in America and I don't know what. Not much was connected or made sense. He had an african-american man next to him and then an Irish guy came up and soon there was a full verbal fight going on. I felt like I'd stumbled in on the set of Jerry Springer. It was fun, though :)

That night I had indian food for the first time ever (liked it a lot) and then I slept a few hours and the next day I went in to London by myself, following Dylan's written subway directions and saw St Pauls Cathedral (heh, huge.) and ate breakfast somewhere in Soho and went to the most fabulous bookstore called 'Murder One', specializing in crime books and such. It was pretty cool to be able to go into a book store and ask for books involving 'serial homicide and forensic books' without getting a very, very odd look. :)

(a scary, scary man stopped me outside the bookstore to compliment me on my hair. On broken english he asked me if he could walk with me around London. I said no repeatedly but he didn't seem to get that I really meant it. 'What is there to be scared of?' - I pointed at Murder One and said 'Hon, go in there and check the true-crime selection out. Then you'll know what there is to be scared off.' I walked off and made sure he wasn't following. BrRRr. ) I also saw where the ABBa musical 'Mamma Mia!' is playing. _heh_heh_

In the afternoon I said goodbye to Dylan and took the tuuuuuuube to Heathrow, bought Douglas Coupland's 'Girlfriend in a Coma' (last DC book I had left to read: finished it thinking it was definately my favourite of them all so far.) and sat around for a few hours, reading.

The short flight home was also uneventful, but this time with surlier flight attendants. I got to Copenhagen's airport an hour or so late, around 10.30 pm. Discovered that all the currency exchange places were closed and that the exchange automats only took actual notes. Hah... so instead of being able to exchange my £17 I could only exchange my £10 note and hence didn't have enough money for the airport boat over to Sweden. Panic. I managed to call my uncle in Sweden (who was to pick me up) who called Denmark and booked a ticket while I took the public bus to a spot closeby where the boats were.

By the time it dropped me off it was 11.40 pm. The boat was to leave at 11.50 pm. The bus dropped me off on a spot about 5-7 minutes worth of walk away from the boats. It was raining. HEAVILY. I had two large suitcases and a broken backpack. WOOO pity me. I was wearing a short skirt. hahaha. I looked PATHETIC dragging my things looking halfdrowned trying to make the boat - and I did. I showed up completely drenched in rain and freezing my ass off, arms dead long ago, neck hurting from the hevay backback I hung around it, but I made the boat 1,5 minutes before it was to depart.

And that was that.