We took the low road.

Beth and I were super excited. We were going on a trip, a whole day out to the National Art Gallery in London for only ten pounds. The trip was subsidised by the school and would last all day. Yes it would...

So. Yay us. We get dressed super quick in the morning, pack our lunches for the day, and hop on the bus with ease. Actually, quite a lot of ease considering that I was sick and thus a right pig to try and get out of the house on time... actually... it's almost impossible to ever get me out of the house on time. But, Beth and I are pretty good at coaches. We're not those people who disrespect the fact that we have a schedule to keep, and thus always try to get there on time. Which is what made us give somewhat amused looks to the clearly still sleepy Halloween casualities as they rushed their way on to the bus about ten minutes late, by the grace of their friends saying "Oh please wait just a bit longer!" Whatever.

Doctor (Mr?) Clarke took that moment to tell us that on the way home there would be no waiting, 4:45 you were on the bus and we were leaving. Ok. Off to the gallery!

This gallery, can I just say, was huge! I have never been to a more intimidating place for the arts. It's a good thing it's free, 'cause it's not something you can do in just a day. Beth and I were overwhelmed, we were swamped, we were sick and frigging tired of looking at St Sebastion pierced with a thousand arrows, and the creepy depictions of the Christ child--I'm not saying Christ is creepy, but some of the images of him as a baby are. Occassionally it looks like the kid was popped out lifting weights, which completely negates the naturalistic beauty of the Nativity. Also, there was no way that the Virgin was wearing silks when she gave birth, give me a frigging break.--we were pretty sick of the common themes dealt with in the same mannor over and over. I was beginning to feel like, because it was the free part of the gallery, it was the part where they put up the works of the Great's minions "Yeah these guys were pretty good, you have to pay to see the amazing stuff though." Granted it was better than anything I could do. Granted.

Well, we took leave of the gallery after eating lunch in the Gallery's no-man's land, where people who wanted to eat lunch and talk on their cell phones went. Good thing no one looked there.

The gallery is just across the street from the Canadian embassy, and on the other side, Trefalger (oh the spelling) square. Unfortunately, the square of containing a free concert that day... a bunch of unknown rappers and Kelly Roland. Huh. Well, we got a free can of Coke Zero out of it. I start noticing at this point that the wind is picking up, and so is the rain. My shoes, haveing taken a beating on this trip, could definitely be more water proof. Getting a bit soggy at this point. Have I also mentioned that I'm sick right now. Yeah.

Anyway, we make it to the Parliment buildings, which really are beautiful, and then Westminister Abbey right near. Took a bunch of pictures and nerded out over some architecture. Took in the tourist shop. Then back out to check out the river, even though by this time my feet are pretty god damned soaked, and disturbingly... starting to ache. Whatever. By this time it's about ten to three, or about three on the dot. I suggest we find a pub and hang there until four fourty five. First things first, we have to figure out where our bus was supposed to meet. We ask a tour guide, who gives us a neat story about how the term "break a leg" came about, and why Her Majesty's Theatre is thus named. We find our stop and look around for a nice place to wait out the hour and a quarter we have as it is now about three thirty.

We're given a lot of options, we choose Pizza Hut. Hey... it's cheap.

We get pizza, we get drinks. My feet experience a frightening cramping, Beth's fingers figure out that they can move again. Well, we figure it's about time to get the check. We get the check. We go outside where my feet feel deformed and spastic. Pained. Very pained. My hoody too... quite soggy (I don't have a coat in England. It's turning out to be an issue, but they're so expensive). This is when, while we're about four minutes ahead of schedule, is when we see the bus pull away from our stop. Our big, white, heated, coach... pulling away. Oh. God.

"Maybe it's another group's coach. Surely we're not the only group in London today." One of us says optamistically to the other. We go and wait. Quarter to five strikes on Beth's watch. Our bus still hasn't arrived, and no one from our trip is at the stop. I have a sudden horrifying idea, turn to a lovely woman waiting under the same awning as us and ask "Do you have the time?" She does. It's four fifty by her cellphone. Both Beth and I look at her watch which says four fourty six. I think we both smacked our heads.

So. We are stuck in London, in the pouring rain, in soaked clothes, me with a cold which is very unhappy with me, and SOAKED feet which are giving me new sensations every minute.

Well we ask two lovely men how to get to St Pancrus from where we were. To Piccadilly Circus it was, and the tube. Beth turned to me on our way up to the Circus, "You want to buy a tacky sovenier?" We were both still in disbelief.

I looked at her with my most pathetic of pathetic faces "I want warm feet!" I say all cutely pathetic. She laughs and we keep laughing. Through out the rest of the story you can just pretend that the feet mantra is what's threaded throughout. 'Cause I said it a lot.

So, we got onto the tube. That's eight pound for both of us.

Our bright side number 1: "You got to see Piccadilly Circus, and you got to ride the London Tube Susie!"

We get to St Pancrus and buy tickets. That's 86 pound for both of us. I'm complaining that my feet are starting to loose feeling, but not that very distressing ache...

Our bright side number 2: We'll probably still get there in the same time, maybe earlier, than the people on the coach.

We use the loos at St Pancrus, which were less than fresh smelling and hygenic.

Our bright side number 3 and 4: Hey now we know that St Pancrus has an all you can eat sushi joint in it. The toilets weren't pay toilets.

We managed to get a pretty direct train from London to Leicester. As we moved through the station we noted some fun people, and one very distressed (see wailing) little girl in a soggy jumper, I think I made comments about her having no right to complain. Petty? Yes.

On the platforms area we were directed to our platform specifically, as the sign had not previously indicated where to go. Outside I was afraid that my feet weren't stinging at all anymore... But I found a one pound coin!

Our bright side 5: We recooped some of the cost.

We got onto the train on the side that said coach, instead we walked through possibly the longest first class section ever. So when we finally got to coach it was a bit of a press to get seats. But I didn't have to fight grumpy guy again, thus...

Our bright side 5, 6, 7, 8, and 9: We found un-reserved seats together. The seats and area they were in were warm. By walking through first class we didn't have to walk outside anymore. We could take off our soggy jackets. Finally, it would be a short trip, shorter than the coach would have been.

Well we settled into our seats for a bit of a haul, watching as people who weren't as prompt as us showed up and settled in to find their own seats, and last on the train, much to our surprise (and yet not, 'cause it's us) was a troop of mimes.

Yes mimes.

A bunch of people in stripy shirts and black spandex pants who only spoke with their hands. We have no idea why these mimes couldn't be off duty mimes, but there you have it. I considered giving one of them my seat, as they too had clearly been in the rain--you could see some of their makeup running--but I would feel obligated to mime it at them, I so wasn't in the mood to mime. Also, my feet were only just remembering what a vague sense of warmth was like and I was hacking up a lung. I needed it more than the mime did. Beth spent a good portion of that trip giggling and pretending it was my fault. I insist that it's ok to giggle at mimes, they're there for our amusemet, but she didn't want to be offensive. I clearly have the better poker face.

Our bright side 10: We have great imaginations.

By the time we got the Leicester the mimes had left, they got off the stop before us, which was quite disappointing. I would have enjoyed some mimes in Leicester.

I think it was the mime's fault. But at this point we got a bit turned around in Leicester station. We can navigate Birmingham, Edinburgh, and London but not freaking Leicester? What's with that. Well, we made it out.

Well, it was one more leg of our journey until home. We didn't talk much during our walk. I was busy trying to breathe and Beth was probably feeling a similare sense of "just get me to a shower!" Also, I had to pee.

There was no bright side for me on our 2.5-3 km walk to home from the station. I was so cold. There was only blind focus. If I kept walking at a good pace I wouldn't think about the fact that I was so cold (and had to pee). Beth was a doll and offered me her coat, but that seemed kinda silly. She was warm, and then wouldn't be. No. Not cool. Also, I was already soaked through, why get her coat wet? So we powered through.

Blissfully, no one was in my shower or the downstairs washroom, when I got home.

When I took off my shoes and socks I was horrified to figure out that my worry hadn't been for naught, my toes had turned blue. Eek. Thus, I spent about a half hour under the hottest setting my shower had. My feet still weren't warm after that, but the rest of me was. Hey, my toes weren't blue any more. Bonus.

The rest of the night was spent not thinking about money and rain... though the rain was hard as it was pounding our windows but hey...

Our Bright Side 11: We were at home and not out in it any more!