As you know, Cece and I took a wonderful ten day vacation from the real world recently and headed off to Europe. It was so nice to get away from it all (except football...Saturday's were tough. I kept catching myself looking at my watch saying things like "Damn...the bama/florida game just started"...and the blog...I missed her) and experience a bit of Old World charm.
I didn't think about my job twice as I gallivanted around London and gay Paris (and by gay Paris, I don't really mean gay as in gay...well, I did walk down a pretty gay street with some pretty weird bars and bookstores and there were a lot of dudes kissing other dudes, but I didn't spend a lot of time there...just like five minutes...no wait, it was more like 30 seconds...but I digress) taking in the sights and sounds of cities that are so old I can only describe it with an SAT-like analogy. London is to Atlanta as ____ is to Matt?
a) Matt's father
b) Matt's grandfather
c) Matt's great grandfather
d) Moses
I'll let you take a guess as to the answer.
And now, for a brief run down of the days' highlights.
Thursday: Our direct Delta flight from Atlanta to London-Gatwick took off almost on time just after 5:00 PM (which is about the best you can hope for with Delta). The in-flight movie was Monster In Law. I chose to listen to music and read but all the old people in the plane really laughed a lot. Old people are funny that way. I did glance up every now and then to catch a glimpse of J Lo's heiny. Yowza. I'm sure all worked out in the end (no pun intended) and Hanoi Jane and J Lo's heiny became the best of friends. Yawn.
I was trying to finish re-reading the da Vinci Code because I wanted to take notes on places to see in London and Paris that related to the book. I was also planning on taking a walking tour in Paris that is inspired by the book and I wanted to be able to ask intelligent questions so I could prove to everyone else on the tour that I was smarter than them thus making me feel better about myself. After reading for awhile I realized I needed to try and get some sleep. Our plane landed around 6:00 am London time and we were going to try and go out in Brighton that day to do a little sightseeing. I was able to nod off a little here and there but the coach section on a transatlantic flight ain't exactly the best place to get a good night's sleep. Of course my wife closed her eyes, opened her mouth (you've all seen the pictures) and was off to sleepy land before I could say "Look kids, Big Ben, Parliament".
Friday: We got off the plane just after 6:00 and got to stand in line for around a half hour waiting to go through customs. You could pretty much guess where everyone was from in the line based on their clothing and/or passport. And I gotta tell ya: Americans are fat. We might not smell as bad as some Europeans, but we sure do blow them away when it comes to obesity.
After about thirty minutes or so in the passport line we retrieved our bags (including the heaviest, most unwieldy suitcase in the history of mankind) and made our way outside. Cece's friend Andy was waiting to pick us up and after we stuffed our four bags and three bodies into his tiny Ford Fiesta we headed south to Brighton. Of course it only took two minutes for me to get my first taste of crazy English driving. Andy tried to cut across two lanes to make a left at the roundabout leading out of Gatwick and after almost slamming into a car who had the right of way, proceeded to yell at the other driver. "Aww, f*ck off ya c*nt, I'm just trying to get over there." Naturally the windows were rolled up so we were the only people who heard his ranting. After the car let us through and we were rocketing down the motorway Andy turned and flashed his gap toothed smile at Cece and said "Sorry for the language love. I'm used to being alone in the car."
The rest of the drive was somewhat uneventful. I will say this though, don't ever complain about the driving in Atlanta anymore. European drivers make Atlantans look like a bunch of 90-year olds behind the wheel.
Upon reaching Brighton, we made our way to Andy's flat, for which he paid around 200,000 pounds (between $350,000 and $400,000). I immediately felt grateful for the housing prices back home. His three story place had three TINY bedrooms, an absolutely minuscule kitchen (with no dishwasher), a decent sized living room on the top floor, and a split bathroom. I say split because the shower and sink were downstairs on the bottom floor and the toilet was upstairs next to the kitchen. And I swear to you the closet in mine and Cece's bedroom is twice as large as the room the toilet was in. Maybe three times bigger. Let's just say that you get a bit more bang for your buck here in the good ol' US of A.
As I was unable to get much sleep on the flight over, we took a little two hour nap before heading out into the city. Brighton is a seaside town on the English Channel and in the summertime is a haven for tourists. The tradition began back around 1800 when the Prince of Wales, who would go on to become King George IV began to vacation there. When he became the Prince Regent (he was in control of the government even though his father was still alive but mentally unfit) he built an opulent royal palace to host lavish parties and dinners for the upper crust of society. We played the role of dorky tourist geeks and took the tour of the palace. Decent tour...lots of history. Our tour guide was pretty knowledgeable and she had a good sense of humor. After the palace we walked around The Lanes, a pedestrian only shopping area. We only walked around a fraction of The Lanes on Friday; we found the larger section Saturday.
After walking back to Andy's flat we hit the couch and watched some British TV, including a special episode of The Office that had us laughing hysterically. When Andy's roommate arrived we headed down the street to the "new" pub and had a few pints and listened as Andy told us about his recent around-the-world trip and his roommate Phil told us about his upcoming trip which will include stops in Asia, Australia, and North America (I think that's where he's going. We're about 5 pints into the night now and I was already dead tired). Andy's girlfriend Liz called to let us know she was almost in town (she currently lives in Cardiff, Wales and made the drive after work), so we made our way back down to the flat to meet her. After she arrived we headed down the hill to Andy's "local" pub. It's like Cheers except the bartenders know a lot more than three or four regulars by name. The whole neighborhood stops by every night. Here's where the night gets real fuzzy. I had a couple more pints and I was done. I was pretty much falling asleep at the table and so we made the trip back to the house to go to bed (luckily the Velcro Pygmies weren't playing so I didn't end up doing the wake up and rock out and then pass out thing over and over again). I'm guessing I was pretty drunk because the next morning I didn't remember Liz walking in on me in the bathroom in the middle of the night. Thankfully I was "standing" in the bathroom so it wasn't too uncomfortable for everyone involved.
Coming soon...Saturday at Arundel and Sunday we head to London. Stay tuned...
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