Evidently I have an odd (some may say neurotic) need to learn stuff. This isn't a bad thing, right? Except for my bank account... but I digress.
Now don't worry, I'm not going to drag you into my class. That would be wildly boring. And no one really cares.
Now for the goods.
Breakfast at The Penn Club. A selection of juices, cereals, muesli and fruit then a hot cooked breakfast of the full English variety. Yummy.
I started off with some fresh-ish fruit. Canned pears can be forgiven I suppose. And the thimble of orange juice was a little tinny, but that's okay too.
I didn't eat any of the cereal selection because it was still cold outside and there was a wonderful light rain. Instead I opted for hot porridge. I like oatmeal, so all was fine with me. While that was cooking, I got some apricots, grapefruit and pears. As most of The Penn Club's clientele are in their golden years, there was an entire bowl dedicated to prunes. This amused me to no end. Does that make me a bitch? Yeah, probably.
The cute little waiter guy came around and asked how I wanted my egg or eggs. I didn't know the British term for sunny side up, so I asked.
"Sunny side up? Do you say that here?"
"Fried egg."
Well, I felt stupid. But that's what I ordered.
So here was my plan: Eat the sausage, the weird potato thing and veggies then with some toast make an egg and ham sandwich to bring with me for lunch.
Which I did. Yay! In theory anyway.
Here's the hot breakfast.
I get inside and wait for the class to start.
The class starts and I really enjoy it. We worked for 1/2 a day. Then lunch time. Seems I'd forgotten my egg and ham sammie back in the room. Looking back now I realize there was a chance I had time to go back and get it. Well crap! I was cramming for the stuff at the end of the day after having gotten my replacement books the day before, so I was more than pre-occupied.
I went to:
and had
and
It was gooooood too!
So back to class for the last half of the day. It was fun, but of course I have an insatiable need to know stuff and I didn't feel like I learned enough. But that's my fault not the class's.
I get back and it's still drizzling. I ring the doorbell for the door.
Evidently this was an egregious mistake. The Harpie was behind the desk again. Oh for the love of God!
"Are you staying with us?" Because she forgot that she screeched at me the day before.
"Yes, I am."
"Then you need to use the key!"
Huh... well the little dude the day before neglected to mention that little tidbit. He told me to use the key after hours.
"Okay... Um, sorry. Oh, and I tried to log on to the internet last night and the code wouldn't work, I was wondering if I could get another one? The message said the code was already used?"
"Well, there isn't anything wrong with the code! I can tell you that. There may be something wrong with the internet or your stuff, but the code is fine. I'll give you another one though, but the code is fine!"
OKAY THE CODE IS FINE!!! WTF is this broad's issue? Seriously?
Now let's think about this for a minute... If you've read this blog you know that I've put up with a lot. No less than rats, blood spatter and bed bugs, but I have never written a bad review. Until now. Yes, this broad ruined this place for me so badly that I had to let the world know that to stay here was to put one's self into the path of a mythological bitch. But I yet again digress. Apologies.
(If you want to read my review, you can find it here: Trip Advisor Review Scroll down to TravelDoggie9997 from Baltimore Maryland. I wasn't about to leave my real name an location.God forbid The Harpie have super powers.)
My friend Joey (We'll call him Terracotta Distribution TD for short) had his film festival that week and I promised I would attend a show.
I bought a ticket for A Thief a Kid and a Killer.
I don't know what's going on between Youtube and Blogger, but if you're interested, you can see the trailer at this post:
I found the venue online, because the code was working (hurrah) and made a note of the way to get there.
I was in a little bit of a panic because I had to get to the Mall. Of course the designated tube station was closed, so I had to get off at a different one. I left the tube and was met with a plain street with no signs. I was at a loss.
There was a guy standing there smoking so I asked him how to get to the Mall? Seems like a logical question, right?
He tilted his head and looked at me, "Do you mean The Mall?"
He pronounced it 'maal' as in malware, where I pronounced it Mall as in shopping center.
"Oh... MAAAL. Yes, please, how to get to the Maaaaal?"
He gave me a general direction to take. Now I was familiar with what The Mall (as in malware) was because I'd recently seen an episode of Top Gear where they lined up all the vehicles made in the UK along The Mall as a tribute to the motor industry. So I knew more or less what I was looking for.
It looks like this:
And I had to go through or around Trafalgar Square to get there.
I remember playing with the pigeons in the square as a kid so I was rather happy to be able to check it out, even for a nano second. As I walked by, I noticed that there was a GIANT BLUE CHICKEN in the square.
Why? Why was there a giant blue chicken in Trafalgar Square? No idea, but I took a picture.
SBG was there when I arrived to introduce me to her friend she refers to as 'the old man'. Not 'her' old man, per se, but a good friend of hers she teases about being a home body.
He was very nice. I was glad to meet him. :)
SBG and OM opted out of the film. But not I.
It wasn't bad. In fact, it was surprisingly entertaining. Not surprising really because TD has good taste.
After the film, as usual when it comes to TD's superpower of persuasion, I was poked, prodded and cajoled into joining them for a drink. A DRINK! I was very adamant on that point.
After trying a couple of places we ended up at a place called The Pheonix Club.
This is a members only club for artists. Yeah, I'd probably join if I lived there. I'm not quite sure what that means but 'members only club' sounds spiffy.
It was nice. I got to catch up with some friends from the UK and, interestingly, France. I told my Parisian friends about my fiasco in Cannes and they too had horrid experiences there. I was quite happy it wasn't only me.
I met the sister of a friend of mine. Her name is Laurence and she is lovely. We found that we had to band together to defeat TD's superpower of persuasion and left around midnight. Laurence walked me to a bus stop with a night bus and sent me in the right directions. I was feeling rather Blance DuBois-esque at the moment, but it was fine. I found my way back to the Penn.
It was after midnight and I was crazy tired, but I had to be on the tube by 7 so bathing that night was not an issue.
I dragged my butt up the 65 stairs and got my bathing stuff from my room. I opened the door to the bathroom and nearly passed out!
1) Did he forget his clothes here after a shower?
2) Did he think hanging his clothes on the back of the door to a closed bathroom was going to clean them?
3) Was there a naked old man creeping around this level of The Penn club doing God Only Knows What?
I quickly closed the door, drew in fresh air, cleared my head and went to find another bathroom.
Success!
I took my shower. I then headed back to the room to pack up what I could and get a very few hours of sleep.
Ahhh...
