Without a British acc(id)ent.

I don't regret worrying about my trip to London. If I hadn't been so scared, I wouldn't have prepared myself as much and without the proper preparations I'd probably run into many problems. My hostel was very far away from the center of London. It took about 45 minutes by Tube/bus. Before I left my host mom's daughter (who used to live there) told me there were a lot of "rappers" in Deptford. It ended up being fine. I met people from Canada and New Zealand with such interesting travel stories to tell.

The Arcade Fire on Saturday night: best concert of my life so far. Before this I thought The Strokes, Radiohead and Coldplay were the best live bands I'd seen. They're still high on my list, but I was so excited about this particular concert. Perhaps the circumstances are what made me enjoy it so much. A friend of mine told me that when he travels the happy moments are always happier and the bad moments are always worse. I found out the day before I left for London that Clinic (another band I like) would be opening. I got there right as they started their set, but it was really short. I saw one of the band members shaking his head, so maybe there was some problem. Truthfully, Clinic's performance was forgettable. While I was waiting for Arcade Fire I couldn't stop fidgeting and bobbing around. I was too excited to stand still. The venue was a really big room with high ceilings, quite nice inside. I was able to get close...the front row was a possibility, but it would have taken some pushing. Which is a huge difference between shows in Texas and shows in London. If you push through the crowd in London people get really mad. They stare and will say something if you don't move quickly. I didn't want to risk it. Here's just a clip of the concert. It's the best quality I could find. I took some of my own videos but my digital camera cannot handle the sound of Arcade Fire.



They covered Age of Consent by New Order. It was pretty amazing. I think being alone in a city I have no ties to enabled me to let go even more. I was singing and dancing along to all the songs...in a crowd of unknowns. I felt so free. I honestly didn't care at all because I would never see those people again. After that show, I would have paid another 100USD to go again the next night. It was that good. I've never wanted an encore so bad. It took me two hours to get back to the hostel. Right before I decided to sleep I put in my headphones. The only music I could choose was The Arcade Fire. I had no appetite for anything else. I listened...realized they are actually better live. Quite an accomplishment. I listened...and looked out the window from my top bunk, seeing the little cars swerving in the roundabout below. It had the look of coldness, London coldness. I knew I'd never forget that moment and how completely and totally satisfied I felt.

I saw many of the sights in London, but they didn't compare to walking around in some of the neighborhoods. Big Ben, Westminster Abbey, Buckingham Palace, changing of the guard, St. James Park, Piccadilly Circus, Oxford Street, Trafalgar Square, The British Museum, riding a double decker bus--I saw/did it. (Though I didn't see the big cathedral or the Tower of London...don't care.) It was great to see all that stuff but my favorite places were Notting Hill on Saturday afternoon and Brick Lane on Sunday morning.

Notting Hill is basically a super cute, super hip neighborhood in West London. They have a huge market in the street on Portobello Road. Imagine a market of Whole Foods but much better and more international. Then add a market of clothes and furniture and anything else you can imagine. It was fabulous...and a little rainy. We sat and drank English tea from the balcony of a restaurant. Then I bought the best cupcake of my life and ate it in the streets. The houses are pastel colors! Kind of sick, but really sweet.

Brick Lane is in the East End. It's "Charles Dickens' London" and also where Jack the Ripper killed. Right now it's a predominately Bangladeshi area, very ethnic. They also have a big market on Sunday morning. The area is known for its excellent curry, though I was too poor and it was too early for curry. I did find a little bakery with a huge line. I stood in line and ordered the best bagel ever. It was all really cheap, for London. On my way back to the Tube station I walked past a guy dressed just like a Charles Dickens character, except this guy was totally some London hipster dude. I thought it was funny that the area gets known as being Dickens-y, then gains fame for being so ethnic and then as it becomes gentrified the people end up dressing like Dickens characters anyway. Maybe then the hipsters will start dressing like Bangladeshis. Who knows? Then I walked past a few puddles of left over vomit from the night before. Vomit is so common in the streets here. I think there is a positive correlation between how fun a neighborhood is on Saturday night and how much vomit is in the streets Sunday morning.

When I left on Sunday night it was snowing. I thought London was magical because of that. More logically, I was glad to leave because I don't think I was prepared to handle snowy London.

Right now it's surprisingly warm in Barcelona. I have two weeks of vacation in this city now. Two weeks to take care of everything I haven't done yet. Two weeks to prepare finals. Two weeks to go to as many fiestas as possible. I feel some sort of life progress. I don't mind eating stale bread, I speak broken Spanish without reservation and I'm preaching my faulty life philosophy to strangers.

Everything in life is amplified right now. It's a brilliance I've only known for brief moments in the States. I don't know how I'm going to maintain my mental health when I return to a life in washed out colors.