DAY 9: Wicked Sweet

"Where am I?"

Oh yeah. The Travel Lodge in Sunbury, England. How could I forget? I asked the new girl at the front desk if I could walk to the train station in Ashbury Surrey, assuming she had a bigger brain than Mohammed and Mindy combined. WRONG. "I've never heard of Ashbury Surrey." Was last night a figment of my imagination? Am I starting to lose it? "Honey, it is a 10 minute cab ride from here.... don't get out much?" So I let myself out the front door and started walking- pleasantly surprised to stumble into the Sunbury Train Station ten minutes later. God I'm good.

Back into London Town I rode and decided that since I'm here, I might as well make a day of it before I trek back out to the country. Just as I skipped up the stairs from the Underground, it started to pour. Whelp, there goes my scenic tour of the city. Next on the list? Musical. I performed a few bid wars between kiosks and found a great deal on a matinee showing of WICKED. The unenthusiastic lassy behind the quarter-inch thick plexi glass must have seen the strife in my eyes (or the dark circles and smudged mascara) because she HOOKED IT UP. Aisle seat, 10 rows from the stage... made my frown do a 180 in seconds. So my hammy and swiss sammy and I took in the lights.

The CUTEST little toe-headed girl with a buret and poppy speckled rain coat sat in front of me. In expressing her excitement for the theater, she exclaimed with a lisp, "Oh Mummy,  I JUTH love va feater!" She sat on her knees and stroked her "mummy's" hair the whole time, and when the flying monkeys came out (which actually made me pee myself a little) she buried her head in her "mummy's" boobs. The show was great... fabulous costumes and grown men in spandex with asses you could bounce quarters off of... Glinda stole the show.

I found a charger for my phone so the next time I get stuck in Surrey, I'll be able to call my people. Back on the train (I swear at least half of my time in England has been sitting on a train) to Ashford I went... it cleared out after a few stops, so I had a 4-seater to myself until this 7 ft. tall pompous wind-bag, who had his own 4-seat area, decided to move directly across from me and stretch his legs out. I wanted to kick him in the shins, but instead I glared at him for the next 35 minutes,  and realized this unfortunate guy has grey nose hairs so long, they tickle his upper lip... NO JOKE. I wonder if he can even smell? I'm sure he never has allergies (or gets laid) because NOTHIN' is getting up in there. He looked like an accordion getting up out of his seat. Big and Tall stores would be petite for him...

Got back to "Papa Spyke's" and we ordered some Indian food and chatted for a bit... he's driving me to the airport tomorrow and I am off to Paris! I am happy to leave England, but still love London and here's why:

- When the taxi drivers are good, they are GOOD. If they are friendly and willing, they have a plethora of knowledge you can learn from... I swear they know everything.
-The city itself really is spectacular. I'm glad I visited before, because I didn't get to see any of the museum, landmarks, sights, etc. this time. But I did get to find some hole-in-the-wall treasures in SOHO and Chinatown and I got to see some of the countryside.
-They have the best names for streets and areas: Picadilly Circus, Portabello Road, Notting Hill... makes you want to do a little jig.

Until next time, "a river dirt cheap!" (think about it... say it out loud a few times... riddle of the day...)