Sunday, May 8, 2011
Probably because we were knocked out from the wedding festivities the night before, I don’t remember much of the morning of May 8. I’m sure it involved sleeping in and then heading over to Waitrose or Sainsbury to feed ourselves. I remember going with Pat & Jerome to Primark (a shopper’s haven, my long-distance love, etc) to buy a hand carry bag for Pat while I did a mental checklist of the things I’ll buy there to take home with me.
Meanwhile, Dale went to a farmers market, something which I also planned to do on a Sunday morning. Fatigue won over and the three of us stayed at home while– and I’m sure this is totally what happened– Dale tied a scarf around his head and carried his wicker basket to Chapel Market, while birds sing all around him. There, he met the love of his life, a small-town farmer that grew the most delicious strawberries.
As soon as Dale got back, strawberries in tow (this part is true, and they were really delicious), we decided to go ahead with our previously-aborted plans of meeting Vince, Ajay’s friend and a fellow Filipino who lives in London, to spend the night dance, dance, dancing away.
What? Didn’t we just do that during Angel’s wedding?
Yes, we did. But this was a legitimate night out in town. Pat and I wanted one before she went home to Manila the next day. So we decided to meet Vince at the Trafalgar Square, so we can also fit in a few minutes of taking photos. [Note: Here’s when I should have gone to Australia House, a.k.a., Gringotts.]
Trafalgar Square is one of the more famous tourist attractions in London. It is also a popular venue for rallies and demonstrations.
Smack at the center is the Nelson’s Column, with the four lions “guarding” it. Lots of people seem to like chilling in there. Jerome attempted to climb on one of the lions, with Dale on his heels. I would have also tried climbing up that lion, but not while wearing a skirt.
There’s also a large fountain and some other sculptures in Trafalgar Square, which I’m too tired to Wiki.
Vince introduced us to his friend, Tendai, and this pub, Montagu Pyke. We had a quick dinner there, and also a few cocktail drinks. We ordered different cocktails at first, but we all ended up liking this apple pie-tasting mix the best, which had Fireball Cinammon Whisky as its base. It was so good that as of this entry, I’m having my friend bring me some of that whisky home from Canada.
Mashed peas aren’t for me, I soon discovered. Perhaps they were when I was 5 months old and eating them out of a Gerber bottle. Speaking of babies (whut?), we were carded when we ordered drinks. Bless that bartender, he was probably our age or younger. I guess our Asian genes can still have us passing for college students there.
After Montagu Pyke, we looked for a place we can go dancing. Our first attempt was at a salsa place (the dance, not the dip), but no amount of “So You Think You Can Dance” can make us attempt the salsa publicly. We ended up at Zoo in Leicester Square, where there were actual college (or high school?) students. One of them looked like Ignasi Miquel. Or Zac Efron. Unfortunately, apart from Ignasi-Zac, the only tappable guys there was this Italian guy who ended up making out near the bar after making 5 seconds of eye contact with a total stranger.
Not gonna lie, the crowd was totally lame. There were quite a number of douchey-looking guys trying to dance with me or Pat (and one guy who actually danced his way inside our protective cocoon– but that was fun.) and a group of slutty tourists taking the London Night Tour. Thankfully, we had our… er, men to protect us and vice versa. Despite all that, we enjoyed the night, even the part with the cheesy 90s backtrack music (Backstreet Boys, anyone?).
Okay, so we especially enjoyed the cheesy 90s music part.
It was kind of a shock seeing people make out on the dance floor. Had to remind myself that we were in Europe. If we were here, those people would have been doused by an icy beverage. Not really, but they would be given the evil eye. Wait. Will they? I haven’t been on the scene for so long. Or ever.
When it was time to call it a night, there were no more trains to take us back to our hotel so we had to walk to a bus stop with a route that included East Croydon. Pat was going home the day after, and it was a sad because we wouldn’t have her for the remainder of the trip, and also partly because we were reminded that we do not live here in this wonderful, amazing city. 😦