Over the past few months, I’ve spent a wholly unnatural amount of time in the U.K., and unfortunately, it hasn’t been the pretty part. As is usually the case, work sends me to the industrial, blue collar “arsehole” of England. And by the way, I’m allowed to describe it as such since a friendly British bloke at the bar said it first.
And well, to be as polite as I possibly can about it, I fucking hate it. The weather is fucking atrocious. I mean, I didn’t know fog was a color until I spent 6 early-winter weeks just a ways outside of Manchester. The food is pretty shitty; the country’s culinary prowess is centered around fish and chips, malt vinegar and boiled fucking cabbage, so you can imagine how delightful the hotel fare is. Northern blue collar shitty ass cockney accents are about as pleasant as being stabbed in the ears, and to top it all off, steering wheels are on the right and you drive on the left. Might not sound like much, but you seriously have habits you don’t even know about when it comes to driving, and flipping everything is not just annoying, it’s downright dangerous.
Seriously, fuck England.
That said, a few weeks ago I finally had a chance to see London, and frankly, I’m surprised it hasn’t seceded. I loved it. Weather still ain’t much, but it’s a gorgeous city, fully cosmopolitan cuisine and culture, and the accents are a lot more Hugh Grant-ish than they are up north. Well, not really, Londoners have pretty harsh accents too, but not nearly as painful for whatever reason. For me, London and England will forever be two completely mutually exclusive places, not to be in any way associated with the other, except for the union jack I suppose.
Anywho, on my first night in town, I filled my backpack with beer, took the underground from my hotel to the Thames River, and the Tower Bridge was just about the first thing I saw. So, it’ll be first thing you see too. Seems appropriate. Have a look.
Setting out from my hotel. Strand me alone in northern England for 3 days without pay? Well, I’ll go to London and you can cover my hotel and each and every beer and meal. Thanks, my boss.
The King’s Cross Underground station. And, one of the many double-decker buses we’ll be seeing.
Alright, here we are, the tower bridge. And as promised, more buses.
The stuff of many a postcard and t-shirt.
I would have gone ahead and walked on the other side of the railing…
This is my favorite, and the wall paper on my laptop. The sky is nuts.
Is it, now?
Ok, this isn’t the Tower Bridge, it’s the London Bridge. And you can rest easy knowing that in fact, it is structurally sound, and appears to be in no immediate danger of falling down.
The sketchy, damp, and quite slippery staircase I descended to take last picture. I almost killed myself, turns out it was fenced off for a reason.
On the left there you can just barely see St. Paul’s Cathedral in the background.
And I suppose that’ll be all for tonight, but come back soon, I have a few more pictures to show you. Like Big Ben and the Tower of London and shit.
Don’t be a stranger.
-B. Littleton
