Popping over the Pond

Today I arrived in London at around 7 AM local time.  The journey was relatively easy, but not without mishaps.  A two hour delay on my first flight left me in Newark acting out a movie scene that we're all familiar with -- I was the guy running through the airport, bag slung over the shoulder with my belt swinging wildly after not properly buckling at the security checkpoint.  Unfortunately, as the scene played out I didn't find a helpful gate attendant at the end of my sprint.  I gazed through the windows at my airpline with jetway still attached.  Then, a cold, ambivalent voice stated from behind the desk, "go to customer service."  If only I were Frank Abagnale Jr. and the gate attendant were some cute little gal in her 20s I would have been well on my way.  Unfortunately, my near middle-aged charm had no effect on the elderly black man in front of me, with a New Jersey crust baked to perfection.


After two additional conversations with employees that were having a competition for "most unfriendly of the year," I was able to get on a flight a couple of hours later.  Somehow I scored an aisle seat on this plane filled to capacity, and enjoyed conversing with an English mother and Daughter perhaps 55 and 75 years old.  They had just completed a 4 day shopping trip to New York, which sounded very successful. 

When I arrived at Heathrow, the immigration process went smoothly, though a tad long at around 1:15 minutes.  To my body, it was now about 2 AM and was dragging a little bit.  I proceeded to buy a ticket on the paddington express, a train that goes directly from the airport to my hotel at Paddington Station.  It was just lovely.

When I got to hotel reception around 9, I discovered an error in my planning.  The hotel did not yet have an available room, so I would have to wait for my slumber.  I decided to go get some breakfast.  Though the meal seemed pretty familiar -- eggs, sausage, ham, orange juice -- the book didn't fit the cover.  I had read up on English phrases to get a lead on some things I may encounter.  The Tube (subway), Cheers (good day), kit (computer hardware), Quid (slang word for a pound, like calling a dollar a buck).  However, this morning I discovered that scrambled eggs actually means pureed eggs, fried egg means "half raw," and ham actually means block of salt.  Orange Juice still meant orange juice, and I could taste the French influence on the pastries.  But the nicest surprise was the sausage -- it had a smoother texture than I'm accustomed to and was delicious.

By 10:15 my room was free, so I settled in, took care of some email, and was asleep by about 12:15.  I woke up miraculously around 2:15, as my alarm clock failed to serve its function.  I hopped in the shower and was treated to semi-frequent and drastic changes to water temperature.  The room door closed behind me at 2:45 and I was on my way to Marks & Spencer just down the street.  Unfortunately, I failed to recall exactly how narrow the streets are, and that they drive on the left side.  This grave mistake almost caused me a bit of a problem as I walked around a tree on the sidewalk, getting dangerously close to the curb just as a red double-decker bus sped up from behind and nearly hit me.  If I was still sleepy when I left the hotel, I was not anymore.

I spent the remainder of the afternoon meeting with the team.  The people are very nice, or at least they seem so due to their fancy accents.  The guard at the desk had a Scottish accent.  I may strike up a conversation with him tomorrow just to listen some more.  I was told that my old friend Sapeksh showed off some pictures of our trip to Boundary Waters Canoe Area while he was here last week.  It's unfortunate that our timing couldn't have been better, as he left to go back to India last Tuesday.

We left the office around 6 PM, I hopped on a quick conference call back in my room, and now I am getting ready to go get some supper.  Before I go, here are a couple of fun pictures from today:

Breakfast.  That little black half hockey puck thing is called Black Pudding.  I'm not sure why, as it has the texture of corrugated paper and the taste of.... corrugated paper.

Google... pretty much the same