part eight - bashing around london.

shall I tell you about our motel room? 

notice I say mo and not ho...there's a big difference...even if it is called "hotel boka."

you enter with an old fashioned key and think "how quaint."

you see a separate entry room and a glass door to get into the bedroom area. 

the door says push...so you push...and nothing happens. 

turns out you better pull. 

you pull and the door creaks...and when I say creaks I mean a full out nazgul SCREAM. 

that's a lovely thing to wake up to in the middle of the night. 

and it's so hard to reverse what the door says and what you must do... especially when you first wake up.

don't try to flop down on the bed unless you want your back to go out. 

seriously. 

you'll never be the same if you attempt it.

the bathroom is also an interesting place. 

after the first night, we decided to not try to flush the toilet paper. 

it doesn't end well. 

also, when seated you'll realize there's a crack in the seat because it pinches something AWFUL.

so it turns out that just because you're in london, it doesn't mean that everyone speaks english. 

far from it. 

I truly don't think the people who run our hotel have a clue what we say.

in the morning you go into the basement for an "english breakfast" of runny egg, sausage, ham, toast, beans, and rice crispies.

and that's the lovely place we've been living at for the past 3 days (and next 3 nights). 

it's honestly a bit rough...but gives the trip even more character. 

this morning we awoke rather early (or it felt that way...still not over our jetlag). 

we took the subway to paddington station. 

I've never been in quite so many people's business as I was on that ride. 

we were literally touching about 6 different people rather intimately and a few people had the door shut on them. 

it was overflowing and awkward. 

to make matters worse, we had decided to buy coffee to drink on the way...horrendous idea.

at the train station we had no idea what we were doing, all we knew was that we wanted to get to oxford. 

you'd think it'd be easy and well marked, right? 

wrong. 

so wrong. 

also...this find your own seat thing? 

awful. 

we accidentally sat in reserved seats, the quiet lounge, and finally found seats apart from each other. 

someone thought we couldn't speak english because we looked so clueless and idiotic.