The Train Back to London
For dinner last night, I had some curry chicken and a fried Mars bar. My cousin Andrew had told me to be on the lookout for those. It tastes about how you’d expect: warm and soft and sweet on the inside, crunchy and savory on the outside.
Last night’s pub crawl was a standard affair. Lots of cheap drinks with backpackers much younger than us, finishing up in an overcrowded and understaffed basement club.
This morning, I was not properly motivated to go to Arthur’s Seat. As we headed to the train station, I turned around to see the sun shine a proud beam of light onto Arthur’s Seat. Nature mocks me.
For the train back to London, Jerry got us sweet first-class tickets that entitled us to a complementary drink, snack, and wifi. Conrad and Doug are working on finding a place to stay in London, Jerry is sleeping, and I am looking out the window and enjoying the view.
Zipping down the east coast of Britain, I can see the North Sea. It’s a straight shot over to Denmark from here.
We’re scheduled to get into London around 2pm. Hopefully, we’ll have somewhere to stay before we arrive.
My name is Jeff. I'm a