Bloody Hell (stolen from a fav British movie)

OMG!  I’m not even sure where to begin.  I mean…WOW.  First off, the flight was totally mellow. The food on international flights is delish.  I, of course, fell instantly asleep after eating.  Having not slept the night before helped tremendously.  I woke up about seven this morning, that would be 2:00 AM, EST.  We were three hours from Heathrow.  I figured I could stand three hours of flying conscious.  I found a movie to watch and that was that.  I’ll skip the part about landing, standing forever in customs and the scary moment I thought they weren’t going to let me in the country.  The taxi ride to my “flat”, if you will, was comical.  First of all, the cab driver and I had the most animated conversation.  He was full of questions.  Apparently he was fascinated by the idea of an African-American woman traveling all that way, coming to do nothing but hang out for thirty days.  He thought maybe I was an athlete or a performer of some sort – in town in advance of the Olympics. Hated to tell him nope; I was just a plain, old American novelist looking to relive some fond memories of the brief time I’d spent in England, and hopefully come up with some really great material for a book I was writing.  We then talked about my childhood briefly spent in Burwell, then Lakenheath; he recommended several pubs, a couple of nice dance clubs he thought I’d like, and offered a fatherly warning not to be out too late by myself. Fortunately through the Meet-Up group, I had plenty of folks to go places with.

Anyway, we pull up to the house I’m staying in and WOW.  I love the area, first off. It reminded me of being in Little Five Points in Atlanta.  A wonderful mix of residential and retail, mom and pop kind of places you know.  The street was just crawling with folks about their daily routines.  I am in love.  I feel as if I’ve come home finally from a very long time away.  Anyway, 52 pounds lighter in the wallet, I’m waving good-bye to the cab driver and using my key to unlock what’s going to be my front door for the next 30 days.

Breath taken away.

There’s a second bedroom and this “little” gem on which I’ll be watching Angry Boys (sounded good when I read about it in the British version of TV Guide) and Live at the Electric (as long as it’s nothing like America’s Got Talent or those type shows).

I’m too excited to sit still, going to go out and pick up some food and things from the market around the corner.  Tonight, one of my contacts, a woman by the name of Kathrine is coming by.  She said to dress cute, she’s taking me to a club.  Didn’t think I’d be hitting the night life so soon, but hey, when in London, do what the Londoners do, eh?