Tag: Thoughts

We visited the British Museum today and boy oh boy, did it feel like deja vu.

It felt exactly like day #2 of the trip last year. Mom seemed to want a million pictures taken of her and no matter how I took it, it’s never good enough. “There’s a pole shooting out of my head.” “I look so ugly.” “Don’t you know how to take good pictures?”

It just made me about to boil!

Anyway, I still saw a lot at the museum despite a majority of it didn’t interest me. I might be one of those weirdos who only likes US history. World history like looking at Egyptian mummies and trying to be amused by a tablet that’s thousands of years old and contain an ancient language absolutely bores me. I wasn’t interested when I was in 6th grade and certainly not interested in it now.

Everything somehow looked similar to me. Perhaps it’s because they are all the color but like I’ve mentioned on this blog before, I’m as tone-deaf about art as some people about music.

That is not to say I found nothing interesting about my visit. I thoroughly enjoyed the clocks and watches exhibit. I enjoyed looking at the evolution of these time-telling devices and as someone who likes to take things apart to find out how it works, I was fascinated by the mechanics behind these ancient times pieces.

I was also intrigued by things like this Japanese bowl, which took the artist 6 months to make. I think I found this intriguing because as someone who’s never satisfied with the ordinary, this is not anything that’s ordinary.

After the museum, we made our way to Chinatown and I must admit, London Chinatown is nothing like I’ve imagined and it’s one that’s different than all the other Chinatowns I’ve visited so far. The part I visited was a pedestrian promenade – foot traffic only.

Maybe I’ve watched too many TV shows and movies because London is nothing I thought it’d be or maybe I just haven’t visited the parts of London that hasn’t been in TV or movies yet.

This is the view from my hotel room near Kings Cross Station. It’s been a long day or rather, a long half-day.

I arrived in the UK at around 11:30 AM with 2 sore shoulders from carrying my heavy backpack through the Salt Lake Airport and LAX the day before. I’m still pissed at mom for making me walk from Terminal 7 to the International terminal and back. Our flight was out of Terminal 7 but because there was hardly anything good to eat there other than sandwiches and coffee, especially for someone like my mom.

When we arrived at the terminal after a 40-minute walk (through terminal 6, 5, and 4), mom threw a tantrum when I said I need a minute to get online and find a directory of the restaurants available. She stormed off at a speed I couldn’t keep up because of my already sore shoulders.

In my defense, I didn’t ask her to come along. It was why I dropped my backpack with her. I thought I would walk there, get her something, and walk back. I like walking, you see. My knees actually feel better when I’m not stationary but I don’t like walking when I’m carrying a heavy load on my problematic back.

Nope, she insisted she come along.

We ended up buying Starbucks at Terminal 6.

The 10-and-half-hour plane ride was, you know, a 10-and-half-hour plane ride. The Boeing 787 was exactly like any other planes I’ve been on other than a few advanced features like color-changing windows. Thankfully, I was able to sleep – my Fitbit clocked me sleeping for 4 hours – and I was able to eat unlike the past international flights I’ve been on.

Of course, the thing I was looking forward to – getting the stamp on my passport – was a disappointment. There was no stamp. They say I don’t need it carrying US passport. All I had to do was scan my passport into their system and I was good to go.

So then, I led the way to the Underground where we hopped on the Piccadilly Line and rode until we reached Kings Cross Station. Whoever said London is small is lying because for a small city, I don’t think I’ve ever walked so much in my life.

As I’m writing this, it’s 12:45 AM London time on May 15, 5:45 PM at home, still May 14 and I can’t sleep. I managed to sleep for two hours before mom woke me. Now, I’m wide awake, struggling to sleep because of the time difference. Ugh!

At least it’s finally quiet down out there. It’s been scary – loads of police sirens, loud bangs like fireworks or gun fire, and weird crazy people on the streets. I guess it’s just typical city life.