Internet 1, Laura 0 (or, Day 2)

I had planned to get up at 8:00 AM this morning to go with Dr. King on a tour of our classroom building, but when I rolled over to turn off the alarm and realized just how tired I was, I decided to stay in bed instead. So Day 2 proper didn't start until 12:00 PM. I had a shower, although the shower, like everything provided by ACORN, is in shoddy condition, and coughed water as if it cost a hundred dollars for every drop. Still, I persevered.

Breakfast was the second-to-last FiberOne bar provided by my loving mother, and after eating I met up with the girls from my group to go grocery shopping. We walked to a nearby Sainsbury's, which is more or less the British version of a Kroger's, although far less varied in its stock. I acquired a box of Rice Krispies, a loaf of bread, a jar of peanut butter, a jar of raspberry jam, a half-gallon of milk, six apples, a box of Twinings tea, and a communal air freshener for fifteen pounds twenty pence, which is quite a good deal. The British require you to pay for each plastic bag you use, although the fee's nominal: 5 pence. I've noticed that so far the British government seem much more dedicated in their stewardship of the environment than the American, although that's not very hard to do. Schlepping the groceries home was tiring, as it was about a mile walk with three bags apiece, and we groaned en masse when we noticed that the ACORN-provided refrigerator had several cracks in the shelves on the door. ACORN has not endeared itself to me so far. Their website, festooned with pictures of hotel-quality rooms, lies, although I suppose the fact that we're living in the basement doesn't help matters.

After putting everything away, we discussed our plans for the day. Anything further than walking distance remained out of reach, since the Tube was going to be incredibly busy because of the Notting Hill Festival. Notting Hill is the largest festival in Europe, and started as a celebration of London's Caribbean community. It remains so, with a huge parade and hundreds of stalls selling Caribbean goods and food. We decided to go tomorrow, as today is organized primarily for kids. Instead, we decided to go to the Camden Street Market, which is an outdoor market held on Sundays on-surprise- Camden Street by the Camden Lock. It's something of a place for the goth and stoner crowds of London to crawl into the light, as there are innumerable stalls selling kitsch such as leather trenchcoats and pants, spiked bracelets, fedora hats, neon nail polish, bongs, hookah pipes, prints of Banksy artwork, and so on and so forth. There are also stalls selling cheap clothing, like pea coats, military-style jackets, T-shirts with 'witty' puns, jackets made out of lace, et cetera. I mean 'cheap' in both senses of the word; the pea coats weren't even made out of wool. The selling point of the market was the people-watching; I saw a man in a leather vest with a two-foot-tall red mohawk stride through the crowd, and nodded in sage approval when I noticed a patch denoting his hatred of skinheads on the back of the vest. There were also great food stalls; I got a Nutella crepe for three pounds fifty pence, and devoured it with relish. After spending about three hours at the market, we meandered back to the flat, the walk taking well over half an hour, and sank into the couches with relief (especially me, as I've started developing a blister on my ankle).

One of the girls prepared a spaghetti dinner which we shared among us, and after sitting around for a while, we decided to go look for another pub for purposes of comparison with the College Arms. After a walk in the opposite direction past the British Museum, we chanced upon a pub called the Angel with a beautiful sign hanging above. It was like the Arms in that it was small and cozy, seating maybe twenty people at the max, and the prices were surprisingly cheap; I got a half-pint of cider for a pound fifty. I decided quickly that I liked cider; it's bitter, but retains enough of an apple sweetness that I don't mind the bitterness. We sat around talking and drinking for about two hours before half the group left. I elected to wait with the two remaining, and after about half an hour, we left as well and walked through dark, chill streets towards the towering edifice of the University of London library. Until we got turned around momentarily, and experienced a brief but very keen sense of panic and the irony of the universe. After getting ourselves straightened out, we found our way back to Bedford Place and sat around for a bit, until one of our number decided that she wasn't tired, and we must go to the College Arms.

Alas, as it was a Sunday, all the pubs closed at ten-thirty, and so further entertainment remained out of reach. So we returned to the flat once more, and I decided to try and post the pictures from our first day and write this blog post.

But ACORN, clever and terrible like something of an H.P. Lovecraft novel, has stymied me with the spotty nature of their internet connection, and so the pictures go unpublished for now. Tomorrow, after the festival, I will devote myself to finding a better connection so that my touristy snapshots that in no way approach the quality of Rachel's or Dad's may be inflicted upon the unsuspecting readership. And now it is 1:21 AM, with a 9:00 AM meeting tomorrow, so I have to stop babbling and brush my teeth before bed.

Pictures of the Market and the Angel, along with the first day (hopefully) to follow.