I had three primary ambitions for my fourth day in London: (1) sleep in; (2) meet Paradis at the Chase Lounge for some free beer; and (3) finally get around to seeing something touristy in the city. The first was accomplished easily enough given our calamity-filled past two days. I finally pulled myself off the air mattress around 11 (after watching some early morning Olympic swimming heats coverage in one of those half-asleep-I'm-way-too-comfortable-to-get-up modes) and Mike and I planned to meet at his office right after lunch. For the past couple weeks I had been getting emails from Visa/Chase about this "Chase Lounge" that was going to be somewhere in London and would offer a whole heap of TV's to watch the games from as well as refreshments, drinks, and if you made a reservation, a private tasting session with one of those Iron Chef guys. But I figured- there's no way I'm actually going to be able to work this out, so I just ignored them.
Well apparently Mike was all over it and as soon as I arrived he proffered the suggestion of making it a regular pre-gaming stop. Well done, sir. So we met at his office and proceeded there with one of his fellow colleagues. It was just as advertised; flash your Visa and in you went- free snacks, beer, wine, sodas, and about 15-20 TV's showing various live events. I could tell immediately this place would in heavy rotation in my agenda for the next few days. After half an hour or so, Mike's colleague had to return to work at which point we decided the best option was to have a pop. Nothing quite communicates the decision better than this picture.
It should also be noted here that over the past several weeks of Stint 1, my time at home, and my return to Europe I had begun to notice that the flippy floppies I acquired for 8 euro back in Lisbon had begun to become unraveled. But it wasn't until I was enjoying a beer at the Chase Lounge that I actually got a chance to inspect the full extent of the damage.
Well apparently Mike was all over it and as soon as I arrived he proffered the suggestion of making it a regular pre-gaming stop. Well done, sir. So we met at his office and proceeded there with one of his fellow colleagues. It was just as advertised; flash your Visa and in you went- free snacks, beer, wine, sodas, and about 15-20 TV's showing various live events. I could tell immediately this place would in heavy rotation in my agenda for the next few days. After half an hour or so, Mike's colleague had to return to work at which point we decided the best option was to have a pop. Nothing quite communicates the decision better than this picture.
It should also be noted here that over the past several weeks of Stint 1, my time at home, and my return to Europe I had begun to notice that the flippy floppies I acquired for 8 euro back in Lisbon had begun to become unraveled. But it wasn't until I was enjoying a beer at the Chase Lounge that I actually got a chance to inspect the full extent of the damage.
Whoa. That's going to be a problem. But no time to deal with it now- Mike and I had to pound a few more pops, watch the Chinese win a diving gold (surprise of the year! :/), and then he had to head back for a few calls before he could meet me for later-afternoon pops. Pops pops pops. I love traveling. So, with nothing else to do for the next few hours, I took this opportunity to wander around central London and soak up some of the sights.
As soon as I stepped out of the Chase Lounge the first thing I noticed was just how many red double decker buses roll through the streets of London. I had seen a few before but had thought they were operating solely for sight-seeing. But everywhere I looked they were jamming up the intersections, which clued me in (sometimes I'm a little dense) that they are clearly being utilized as a form of standard public transport. And if the streets weren't blocked by those buses, it was the iconic black taxis. Add London to the list of cities I don't think I ever want to drive in.
With no map, no idea where exactly I was, and no real idea where I wanted to go, I just started walking. Shortly I came across Trafalgar Square and headed under a large arch which I later came to find out was the Admiralty Arch. This opens up onto the Mall which is a tree lined street leading down to Buckingham Palace. Along the way is the Horse Guards Parade which is where the Beach Volleyball venue is located (for my money the most stunning of all the venues).
Because of this, a good portion of the Mall is blocked off so the pedestrian traffic is rerouted through Green Park. Walking through Green Park I couldn't help but think how much it reminded me of McCorkle Place (northmost quad) at UNC Chapel Hill. With the exception of the lack of Silent Sam and the decaying Davie Poplar, the resemblance is uncanny.
After winding through the park I arrived at Buckingham Palace which I must say was rather underwhelming. I guess I expected something larger and with more pomp, circumstance, and absurd grandeur that would befit a royal family. I had decided to do the tour (per my mother's absolute insistence), however, the palace was closed for the day- presumably because the queen or other royal family member "mucking about" inside. Next I took a left... or was it a right? I can't remember. But I went around the corner and suddenly I was looking at this:
Now that's more like it. I also got a quick peek at Westminster Abbey which sits just across the street but it was so infested with tourists I couldn't stomach approaching it much less attempting to go inside. So I crossed the bridge and got a few shots of the Thames, the London Eye, and the other side of Parliment. I must say Parliment and Big Ben are impressive from all angles. I walked alongside the river past Jubilee Park and happened upon a great photo opportunity for the London Eye before proceeding back across the adjacent bridge to meet Mike at his office for another round.
Mike met me at the Bullfrog where we had a pint of Guinness and watched some more of the Olympics and then Mike sprung upon me the idea of the day and perhaps of the entire week: instead of taking the underground home- we'd rent some "Boris bikes" and bike our way back. I added to this brilliant scheme by including the provision that should we pass a pub with Boris bike terminals- we'd stop for a mid-route pint. The ride was, as the Brits say, lovely. The first place we rode past was Big Ben and Parliment.
About halfway home we came across just the pub we were looking for and after enjoying a pint and a round of 8-ball at our pit stop, Mike took me via the scenic route along Hyde Park and we stopped in front of Prince Albert Hall. When we had finally made our way back and parked the Boris bikes, I came to notice that the ride had done quite a number on my poor near-collapsing sandals. In fact, the left had come so completely unraveled that it was impossible to walk. It had suddenly all gone sideways. Before we could return home to remedy the situation, however, we needed to acquire some groceries and other items. Only one option was available- go shoeless in the streets of London. Brave. Daring. Gross.
The last time I went shoeless in a major city was when Allison lost her sandals that one time at the Water Taxi Beach in NYC, and then tackled me in the parking lot and stole mine. Good memories, haha. I did survive the walk, somehow avoided contracting anything, and acquired a tube of superglue which impressively alleviated the situation (and gave me an awesome glossy surface on all of my fingers!).
The next day it was rainy and cool so I basically chilled out and watched a very aggressive amount of Olympic coverage. I did get around to strolling around Chelsea and seeing the Chelsea FC stadium which is probably only about 5 minutes away from Mike's place. They were in the process of hanging the 2012 Champions League title banners, and I was shocked at the relatively petite size of the venue considering how hugely popular Chelsea is.
That night I layed low and remained sotally tober in preparation for my final days of Olympic awesomeness in London. I had a sneaky suspicion London was going to end in a blowout.
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