We hopped a bus to London for £10 today, leaving the hallowed ground of Liverpool in our memories. Kudos to Adam for finding this bus - the train costs about £100 and only saves about an hour in time. Instead, we took a peaceful jaunt through Northern Wales and Central England. As I stared out the window and watched the lush hills and ancient hedgerows weave in and out of one another like a massive afghan blanket, I half expected to see Hobbits milking the cows and herding the sheep. In this idyllic setting, our bus driver stood out as a beacon of all things unsettling and wrong with this world. We arrived to the bus station at 7:59 (the bus was supposed to leave at 8:00) and listened to the short, crimson, heavyset man weave a cloud of unitnelligible obscenity regarding our alleged tardiness and how we were going to make everyone late. In my mind, I wanted to point out the fact that had this bafoon not spent 3 minutes berating us, we could have left on time, but it seemed that I should pick my battles wisely when in a foreign land. He trash-talked the toll booth operators as we passed through their gates and yelled at anyone who wanted to stop for a smoke. Curiously enough, when he needed a smoke, we pulled off the freeway without pause, and he proceeded to flirt with every cute young woman that got off the bus. Classic. I'm actually glad this man verbally assualted me - at least I have something to laugh about.
London is beautiful. The Underground is amazingly easy to use and makes traversing Europe's second-largest city quite easy. We went up in the Eye (huge, glorified ferris wheel) tonight and then had a beer at a pub next to Big Ben. Good times.
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