Traveling is all about the happy pursuit of vague memories of frantic random emotions. One of my absolute favorites: waking up in a city and not having a clue where the hell you are.

Eyes blink. I have a head-ace somewhere in the back of my mind, but curiosity takes over. Where are we? This bed is enormous, it’s sheets are red. Why? I appear to be naked, but the bed is empty. Ash-trays and half-empty bottles of a vague brand of Jamaican lager are shattered across the room.

I find my clothes, a set of keys and my wallet. My shoes are gone but I find a pair of slippers. I stroll trough a kitchen I haven’t seen before or don’t recall. The keys match the front door. I walk a couple of steps out of the door only to get hit by a huge red bus.

So this is London. But how did we get here?

This entry was posted on Sunday, August 31st, 2008 at 6:12 pm and is filed under tags:English, United Kingdom. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Responses are currently closed, but you can trackback from your own site.