If offered, by anyone, and you are not a heavy drinker, do NOT accept a stumbling tour of London. The worst part is that I KNOW very little liquid courage was consumed. Yet I find myself in a hotel room wondering if I will survive till morning.
That said, amazing foodie place near a bunch of buildings. No idea what the name of the place was. Came highly recommended. Wasn’t inexpensive but well worth the pound lost (and the ones gained).
So take the foodie tour, not the stumbling tour, and practice drinking to build up tolerance prior to arriving in London.
Oh, there a clock and some statutes and guys in red coats. Forgot to mention those.
[size=80]shhhhh. not so loud. what I don’t understand is how only the 'mericans are trying to hide under desks this morning (and by americans I mean me). clearly i need to practice more.[/size]
odd how the pubs are much more thorough in clearing the riffraff (aka americans) out than the book stores. I guess spirits and beer* are a more precious commodity over here. [/size]
*[size=70] I’ve already gotten several ear fulls about pilsners, ales, lagers and the like. I’ve sworn them all off. at least until tonight.[/size]
Skip the beer: beer’s beer, and you can buy it anywhere, even in the U.S. What you want’s proper cider (or perry, if you’re into pears), which is as rare in the U.S. as honest politicians.
Assuming you can’t hare off for the West Country and are stuck in London, try The Green Man in Fitrovia, the Cider Tap just outside Euston station or Bree Louise not far away in Camdentown.
This looks remarkably like the Backwoodsman trying to drop the Hillbilly in the shit.
[/quote]
Note: I said cider, not scrumpy. He’ll be safe enough, provided he’s pinned his address to his anorak.
Four attempts at a vic-k-esque description of the last three days has been lost to the caprice of a windows laptop. The short version:
Discovered Aspall Monday at dinner. I may be keeping their sales numbers inflated for the next couple of days.
The Coal Hole behind the Savoy. Nice “feel” for tourists but still full of folks that speak Londonese.
The British service industry [b]that we experienced[/i] this week was wonderful. Example next
Well dressed Englishman brings shabby 'merican into swank restaurant. Young Italian woman makes perfect wine suggestion, and plays the witty banter game with silly American (who may have gotten Mr Piggy added to the banned list). Best line of the evening “Eef yud lyke to lick de plate, I w’dn’t tull.”
Desperate redneck southern Yankee stumbles into coffee shop.
While packed on a tube/train, Londoners politely make room for others to exit. And it seems that the more cider you consume the more room you will be given!
Hooligans (at lease I thought they might qualify) will cheer for the tourists who yells “make room” to use the … discharge wall … when exiting the tube. “Horrah! Glas yas enjoyin’ ur trip!”
I may post the long version of the stumbling tour. It was quite the adventure.
That was a lucky discovery, Jaysen! Aspall’s cider is a Good Thing, and it is made not too far from where I live. Family opinion is divided on whether the Premier Cru or the regular one is best. I like the Premier Cru.
Unusual as this may seem, vic-k makes a good point. Hence I will make my services are available pro-bono for the afflicted. All that is needed to redeem this offer is to fly me to London…
Oh dear. Ignoring the linguistic truism, there are definitely beers and then there are BEERS. In London we have a great many of the later and I’d argue that having a pint of ale in an pub is about as quintessential an English experience as eating fish and chips or looking at ‘a clock’.
I second the recommendation for Aspall Cyder. Even though we have a flat in Exeter, with many great Devon ciders and some good Cornish ones too, in supermarkets there you can’t get local ciders, so I always go for Aspall. Beautifully refreshing, but it packs a kick, a big kick in some cases. And I like Premier Cru too, Siren.
Mind you, the southwest has plenty of superb local beers and ales too … I like Otter brewery ales, though don’t drink a pint of Otter Head if you’re going to be driving!
'm just a moron, Mr X, not an idiot. I refused to rent a car when I visited. You people drive on teh wrong side of the road.
Which is the single worst experience of the trip. I nearly got kill walking from the Savannah terminal to the parking garage. Kept looking the wrong way for oncoming traffic.
don’t like, as long as it’s abusable!
Bon voyage