London Calling

So we’re sitting at an internet cafe in London, because so far, the city kindof hates me.

We asked the friendly concierge(s) at our Oxford hotel and the Oxford-London bus guy where to get off to get the tube to Paddington station. They sent us about 8 tube stations too far away, when the bus actually stops in a few places that are WAY closer. Thanks.

So we make it to the tube. With 3 suitcases, two of which are very large and heavy. No lift (at least not that we could find). One suitcase paid the price of its extendo-roller handle halfway down the stairs. Of course, of the three suitcases, it’s the one we borrowed from someone else.

Then the tube breaks. For twenty minutes.

So we finally make it to our hotel. We figured things would obviously be different now that we’re not staying on the company dime, but holy hell. The neighbourhood is nice. The hotel is clean – but it really is a complete shitbox. With no internet – hence the cafe.

We’re also in cash-panic mode. Despite settling the skimming thing, and having it confirmed (twice) that I would be using my debit card to take out cash in the UK between Feb. 23 and March 5, my card’s been cut off. We had to resort to a cash advance from my Visa, because we just had no more cash, and don’t really want to have to do that again. Especially since we put a whole lot of cash into my bank account, specifically for taking out during the trip.

So that lands us at the internet cafe, checking my vonage account for whether the bank tried to call me (they did) and if I had any voicemail messages. I do, so now it’s back to the hotel to rack up some lovely international calls to try and sort this mess out.

Also, it’s raining. Uncharacteristically Hard. And my umbrella gave its life valiantly in a windstorm in Henley.

On the plus side, there is an H&M here, and the ethnic food is fabulous! I just wish the British would figure out how to make a damn sandwich properly.

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