The Royal Wedding, Part 1

London, April 28, 2011, The Royal Wedding, Part 1 

   

    When I woke up the morning of the Royal Wedding there was a young attractive Australian couple packing backpacks in preparation of the festivities. The girl was kneeling like a baseball catcher packing her bag with her butt crack fully exposed. Her butt cleavage strangely turned me on. The only female attention I had received in weeks was from the two robust Welsh women I met in Belushi's Bar the previous night. Needless to say, I was desperate for a cheap thrill. I spoke with them briefly about the events of the day. I was carrying a bottle of Champagne which gave them the impression I travelled to London specifically for the Royal Wedding. I allowed them to believe this was my extravagant intention for my own amusement.  It was 9:00 AM and my mate R was not schedule to meet at St. Christopher's hostel until 10:30 AM.  Belushi's Bar advertised a free continental breakfast for patrons of St. Christopher's. I decided to eat and attempted to cancel the second night I already booked. There was no chance I could deal with bumping house music and the screaming a German girl again. 

   The continental breakfast was tea and toast. I had not budgeted much money for breakfast so this sufficed. I asked two separate workers if they could refund the money I paid in advance for the second night. Both of them looked at me incredulously and gave deference to their boss that was to arrive for her shift at 10:30 AM.  I savored two pieces of toast with honey and a cup on black English breakfast tea and patiently waited. I past the time by people watching and utilizing the free Wi-Fi on my Iphone 4.  A vast array of people that were eating breakfast I recognized from the night before. The atmosphere was much more peaceful in the morning. It provided a sense of solace that I yearned for after the restless night I had endured.  Thankfully, the meat head Australian that reprehensibly farted the previous night was not amongst the dwellers. This surely would have negatively affected my peacefulness and tranquility. 

   

   R and the hostel manager arrived simultaneously. The manager was a Polish lady in her late twenties that may have had the worst oral hygiene I have ever witnessed. Her teeth were crooked and appeared to have a permanent yellow film that coated them. Luckily, she refunded my money without any problem or hesitation. I was thankful of this because if she had taken any longer, I may have begun to dry heaved from the sight of her mouth. I had heard English customer service was subpar, so needless to say,  I was quite pleased with the service.

 The only issue I now had was that I had no place to stay that night. R and I were both leaving form Stansted Airport the next morning so I figured I would Priceline negotiate a hotel near the airport.  When R arrived, I spent fifteen minutes navigating on my Iphone and bidding on hotels. While I was bidding, I watched Prince William and Prince Harry leaving the Clarence House in route to the Westminster Abbey on the television. The crowd that lined the mall looked absolutely insane. Every bid I placed on Priceline Negotiator was promptly rejected and I soon realized I was missing the grandiose events. Failing to procure a hotel at that moment was just the beginning of close calls that added to the hoopla of the day. After the last bid was rejected, R and I sprinted from the hostel/bar to the tube station. We made it to Hyde Park in record time as a mass amount of people were flocking to witness history. 

London, April 28, 2011, The Royal Wedding, Part 2

Standing in Hyde Park during the Royal Wedding was quite possibly the most surreal moment of my life.