Arrivals Gate

Straight out of the arrivals gate we rented a car. True to expectation the sky was grey. We drove north to Letchworth, where Mike's parents live to get a spare set of keys to Mike's house (thank you Mike). In classic tradition, Mike's mom served us English scones with butter and home made blackberry jam. Then we headed to London – to Mike's house in Earl's Court to drop off our luggage.

My pre-departure independent research uncovered that Monday, August 25th would be the annual Notting Hill festival (every August bank holiday since 1966). We went to the festival, not knowing what to expect. We found a lot of rump shakin, rockin jams, and smells of roast jerk chicken. The streets were filled with spectators and the main streets were set alive by load speakers loaded into large trucks, dancers in carnival costumes, and puppeteers.

We spectated with Red Stripe in hand as even the police were pulled into rump shaking activities. It was a much different Notting Hill that we had experienced last new year, when we went to Beach Blanket Babylon, where the scene was very much posh and uppity.

Side note about London – there are few to no public trash cans. And when you do find one....well....

We made it safely out of the carnival commotion; however, for a split second, I did become concerned about being trampled while in line for the tube. The next day's headlines indicated that later in the night the crowds turned to riot – good thing I had decided to wear ridiculous heels to the festival, which meant we had to leave fairly early as my feet began hurting.

Simon's turn to lead the way – we headed to the city and ended up at Icebar London. 12 pounds got us entrance to the bar, furry ponchos with mittens attached, and a free absolute passionfruit contained in an ice block cup formation. This place was the size of my old bedroom, not as grand as we had imagined – but literally very cool.

By then we were hungry. I saw the sign for O'Neills. Yes, I know we had one in Charlottesville – but after a day of all of the new London culture, it would be okay to slip into something somewhat comfortable. In classic form, I ordered....you guessed it, fish and chips.

Best formula for avoiding jet lag.....take the red eye to London, arrive on Notting Hill carnival, take a shot of Absolut, and top off with fish and chips.