Off to London!

I took the plane to Heathrow this evening;  it went relatively smoothly except that the express train into the city center from the airport, despite being plush and quiet, was not all that "express".  We were apparently stuck behind another slower train, and the conductor kept on complaining to us on the PA about how there was a lot of congestion tonight.  It seemed strange to me, because I always assumed that they knew where all the trains were and optimized things so that at least on commute lines that didn't happen.  Anyway, I eventually arrived in Paddington station, and after staring blankly at the subway map and then the ticket machine for a while, managed to get on the right train towards Covent Garden.  It required a train change, which I decided to skip in favor of walking above ground.  By this time it was just after 10pm, and to my dismay even the pubs stop serving food at 10!  Instead, I checked in at the outrageously expensive hotel.  I had been looking forward to staying there a little, since I just assumed that at that price the room would be fabulous.  First impression of the Strand Place were good:  swanky lobby with a door man.  Once I got out of the elevator however, it looked like a high density casino hotel.  I was still hopeful that the room would be awesome and resplendent in teak and mahogany.  Unfortunately, after swiping my card I quickly discovered a clean, but shoebox sized room looking out over ... dumpsters?  Actually I couldn't really see what was at the bottom of the center of the building but it sure sounded like dumpsters.  It was fine, but felt no better than a $50 room in Vegas.  I didn't have much time to be disappointed though, because I was really, really hungry.  After wandering around for a while and not finding anything open, I eventually gave up and went to the supermarket (Tesco) to buy a sandwich.  I selected a sammich, paid with the horrible self-checkout computer, and walked outside.  The sidewalk in front of Tesco was reminiscent of a zombie movie, but instead of zombies tearing into body parts, it was students and dead eyed junior bankers tearing the wrappers off sandwiches and stuffing them into their mouths.  The only concession to their mealtime was a barely perceptible slowing of their pace while walking away to the tube station.  Being a pretty posh guy, I decided to wait until I got back to the hotel to greedily inhale my BLT and chips.

By this time it was after midnight, and I wanted to get some sleep before the meeting tomorrow at the Royal Society.  Unfortunately, I could hear everything that went on the hallway, including extremly drunk ladies returning from a night of debauchery.  I could hear them slurring and cackling to eachother as they thumped against the walls.  Excellent.