Bread and alcohol never cease to please

So I've returned to something remotely resembling a routine, though I'm fairly sure that getting up at 11:30 am, consuming ridiculous amounts of pasta with butter and occasionally attending class is not a routine I should expect to maintain past the age of 21.

However luck has been conspicuously absent lately, in the form of last week's power outages and the ensuing madness. The day that King's Cross Station and a half-mile of major roadway (including the residence of yours truly) lost electricity was also the day it was windy enough to blow me over, the day I had to get up before the sun rose, the day my phone company decided to forget about the 30 pounds I had previously topped up my phone with, and the day that we were evacuated from our building due to the aforementioned power outage. The wardens of our dorm sagely advised us: "It is not safe here. Pack thy bags and impose upon thy neighbor." And while they indicated that if absolutely necessary they could grudgingly accommodate some evacuated students by setting them up with a basement floor somewhere, they essentially declared us all homeless for the night. Naturally we took this opportunity to stay in a cute British hotel and demand that the college pay for it.

Oh, and it was also the day I forgot deodorant. Of course.

R and I took off for Bath the next day, in the first of several planned day trips to small British cities. We channeled our inner Classics majors--admittedly a very small part of my psyche--and toured the Roman baths, we ate pasties (which, in addition to being my new favorite food, are definitely PASS-ties, as PAY-sties are something else entirely), we tried on corsets in the Museum of Costume (after eating the pasties which was a poor choice), and we breezed through the Jane Austen museum, as I have appreciated her work since I was old enough to watch Wishbone (which I would totally still watch if it were still on television). I think we also broke some sort of record for greatest number of audioguides encountered in one day. I heartily maintain that there is nothing so warm and fuzzy as prerecorded historical fact piped straight to your ears by way of a giant telephone receiver.

We then ate dinner in the Sally Lunn House which, in addition to being really really proud of its enormous hamburger buns, is also the oldest house in Bath, being over 500 years old. Forget the history, though, 10 pounds for two courses (both centering around very large pieces of bread) and wine? Yes please!

And tomorrow? Further lessons in sophistication for boorish American college students. That is, Les Mis tickets for 15 pounds. I love this country.

posted by limeywannabe @ 11:42 PM