I didn't manage to sleep very much on the plane, but by the time we were an hour from landing I was so excited I didn't feel tired anymore. Getting through customs and getting to central London was easy. There's an expensive but efficient express train from Heathrow to Paddington. Once I got there, I was only 1 stop away from Bayswater and Knotting Hill, which is where I was spending my first night. The family that owns the barn I used to ride at just happened to be renting a home for 10 days there, and they offered me a place to stay. It really did work out perfectly for my first night, because even if I'd got a hotel the checkout time wouldn't have been til after 12, and I had made it there at 10. 

A prefect example of how well I get on with London is how easy it was for me to find this place. When I lived in New York and I'd take the train into the city, even with my GPS on I'd go the wrong direction out of Penn Station almost every time, and it'd take me a few blocks to realize. Here though, I nailed everything on the first go. After loading my Oyster card (unlimited access for a week, zones 1 and 2 for 31£, definitely the way to go), I got on the right line going in the right direction, and then did not take a wrong turn once finding my way from the station to the house. No maps, no nothing- just instinct and remembering where I was supposed to turn from looking it up 2 days before. For some reason I can actually use cardinal directions here. Its baffling. If any of you have navigated cites in the States with me you'll be impressed as well. 

Getting back to it… As you can imagine, any house in Knotting Hill is going to be posh and this was no exception. I camped out a Starbucks, which is incidentally where I made the blog and put up the first post, and then got in touch with Cheryl, my barn mom. They had been shopping at the Portobello Rd market, which was just 2 blocks away from the house. I kinda wish I could've gone, because I've heard its a fun time, but I was a bit done with crowds for the day. She gave me a quick tour of the gorgeous house (apparently owned by a Lord and Lady, who shall remain anonymous) and then since I was wide awake, I decided it'd be best to go out and explore and attempt to stay awake as long as possible so I could adjust to the time change. 

I wandered down Kensington Church St, which is the place to go if you love antiques or interior decorating. Its also where the Churchill Arms is located (touristy pub), and even if you don't go inside its worth taking a look at. Flowers of all colors exploded off every conceivable bit of the store front except the sign. It made me very tempted to pop inside for a drink, but then I had a feeling it would be an extremely overpriced drink, and I didn't even have a book to read. So I thought maybe I'd go looking for a book shop, and not even 5 minutes later, walking down the same road, I come across a used book shop and got myself a new used Agatha Christie novel for 3£. After some more wandering and searching for a less touristy pub, I decided to just go to one I'd passed down the street from the Knotting Hill house. 

Here, at The Prince Edward, I had a couple Tangle Foots, which were by a brewery called Badger, apparently established in 1777, and a truly excellent fish sandwich. If theres one thing the English can do right, it is fry fish. If you are somewhere in England, and there is some sort of fried fish on the menu, you can safely bet its probably the best thing on there. Some sort of fried white fish, tartar sauce and watercress on an artisan roll. And of course, homemade chips. Absolute heaven. I got about halfway through my book and decided to go back to the house. The family was still out, but I had a key. I had the whole house to myself, so I took the opportunity to enjoy being alone for a while. I took a hot bath and then sat in the garden and did my nails. It was cloudy and drizzly, which I thought was perfect for where I was. After I got tired of being soggy though, I decided to enjoy the formal sitting room upstairs. I "played" the grand piano a bit, and then examined the bookshelves. There was a shelf with some remarkably old books, most notably to me a copy of Alice's Adventures in Wonderland. I couldn't find a date, but due to its dilapidated state and the fact that the illustrations looked hand done and not printed by a press I have a feeling it was very old and very valuable. 

I also found a book on etiquette and manners from the 80's, and sat on the couch reading about how one should host dinner parties until I got drowsy (honestly, couldn't have been more than 20 minutes). I alternated reading Harry Potter and dozing off until the family came home from dinner, and then since the little girl I was sharing a room with was reading a Harry Potter as well we stayed up for a bit reading together. This was frequently marked by her asking questions like "Harry doesn't really get expelled from Hogwarts, does he? He can't, right?". Once I actually wanted to go to sleep though, I stayed up for hours just thinking about random things. Also I'm pretty sure that one of the neighbors had a dog-pig-monkey-bird that kept yowling. Seriously, imagine something that sounds like a dog whining, pig squealing, monkey screeching and bird cawing all at the same time. 

In the morning, the family had to leave by 9:30, and I decided to leave about 9, since the tube would still be fairly empty, and I'd have all my bags again. But before packing I wandered back down Pembridge Rd and got an espresso and croissant from Neros. It was a perfect, early London morning: gray, drizzly and relatively quiet. I can understand why people find that depressing, but its also very relaxing, which is why I like it. Before I left the house I spent some time with Cheryl and her 2 daughters, all of whom I used to ride with. The whole family is nice as could be, and I really hope I'll have the funds to start riding again. Good things with good people is just good. Darcy, the youngest, whom I shared a room with, gave me an unfinished friendship bracelet she'd been working on, and I promised her I'd finish it and wear it. It'll probably look awful, cause I'm rubbish at those things, but special nonetheless. 

Today I am meeting up with my friend Kirstin, whom I met when I lived in New York, and who is currently getting a Masters in archaeology at University Edinburgh. Our hostel is in Southwark, which is the south bank of the Thames. Its by London Bridge and everything though, so its a prime spot if you're doing something touristy. The hostel is a St. Christophers, which is a chain, and generally has good reviews. I was far too early for check in, but I paid for my bed and was told I could get a luggage locker in the back, and use the bar and the bathrooms and such until proper check in at 2. There was a bit of a incident where the receptionist wouldn't believe they were out of lockers and wouldn't let me use the overflow luggage room, so at the moment they might not be getting the best review, but it all worked out in the end. 

I didn't want to hang around the hostel all afternoon waiting for Kirstin, so I got my purse and my laptop bag and just set off back to the London Bridge tube station. I wasn't sure exactly where I would go, but then it just sort of happened that I got on the Northern line going north, got off at Euston, and walked around UCL's campus until I found the archaeology building. It was pretty anticlimactic, but I did stand outside for a few minutes looking around, knowing that in an alternate universe I walked through those doors almost every day and knew the whole Bloomsbury area expertly. There was no point dwelling on it though, or being sad. I made my choice and I am sticking by it.