All Aboard the Hogwarts Express

I think I write best after I take showers. Guess I makes me more relaxed. Or clean?

I don't know.

But I have seriously been slacking, and I know that. I am returning to redeem myself!

I think the main reason I've been gone is due to the fact that artists and writers alike do their best work when they are inspired, energetic, or depressed. I really haven't been much of any of those recently.

In order to write this, I am going to take on a British accent (in my head) as I type. I expect all readers to do the same.

It was Friday, the first Friday in February. I boarded the metro outside of our humble Parisian dorm and rode it until the end of the line until we had to board a different train. Pretty much the French equivalent to LIRR.

You follow? CHEERIO.

So that makes two trains to get to the airport: Charles De Gaulle. Remember that charming fellow? He's even more of a charmer that early in the morning when the commute has just begun.

Still talking like Hermione Granger! KEEP UP!

the Tuuuuube.

So there we are, the lot of us, hung over and awaiting our plane. A one hour flight on which I turned into my own personal nap time until the flight attendant woke us near landing...speaking what other than English!

OH HOW CHARMING it sounded, after all these weeks of throaty, nasally French. It certainly was a scoop of Yorkshire pudding.

(too much? I'm honestly cracking myself up)

So landing, all the signs pointed us to a land of familiarities. English speakers, chips, and paved roads.

But there were a few shockers. The first of them being the pound. I talk such garbage of the euro, where the pound pulverizes my beloved American dollar: almost DOUBLE. That is pure rubbish if you ask me.

Oh, well enough of this poppycock. Basically, it was a traveling day of Hell.

Fish & Chips and a chalice of Stella.

What other way to cure the one hour time difference blues than some Fish and Chips?

First stop, after our hostel of course: The Globe. A quaint little spot where we could feast like kings and drink like hobos.

And then pass out in the hostel.

The second day was of the utmost importance! It was Korrie's Birthday! We spent the day on a double-decker bus that took us to all of the sights we could want to see in Foggy London Town (which was actually quite sunny).

First stop, the Queen herself.

I was actually rather disappointed by the palace. It wasn't super elaborate like that of my dear Marie Antoinette. Just very very large with a long drive way and lots of immobile guards. You know, can't make them laugh and what not.

We stood in the middle of the road just to capture how long this driveway is.

I'm truly beating around the mulberry bush. The highlight of the trip, besides the accents, was talking about Harry Potter in the accents.

I mean this quite literally. And I was not alone. Part of the perks of the bus tour was the opportunity to take walking tours. One of them being a Harry Potter themed walking tour.

In my excitement, I must have elbowed 5 kids and tripped over myself 11 times.

The tour took us to handful of locations where they literally shot scenes from the series, including the inspiration for Diagon Alley and a mock Honeydukes Sweetshop.

How they were out of chocolate frogs is beyond me...

Apparently Serta mattresses come from New Zealand. Who knew?

Quite frankly, the whole of Foggy London town is magical. Just when we thought that we had finished the tour and returned to the real world, we saw people dressed as sheep. And clowns. And ballerinas. And nerdy doctors.

When we asked the local law enforcement, they said that it was just an excuse of a day for everyone to get drunk.

It was New Zealand's independence day. The lack of open canister laws and public indecency was running rampant. And we were in the midst of this right on Westminster-Abbey.

It was the definition of a Shit Show. Had we known, we would have strapped on our own outfits and joined. But it was far too cold.

Such a pleasant experience the entire night was. Especially when we gained free access to a club due to the blizzard that decided to barrel into England. Good stuff.

It is most certainly a place that I will consider going once again when the American economy is out of the tubes.