Regina Spektor: Part Five

We left the cinema. I almost fell asleep, but only because I was tired, not because it is a boring film. It is a good film. Here's a touristy picture.


What I can only describe as a spur of the moment library. They don't even have walls for god's sake.


Like idiots we forget to have our Shreddies for breakfast, and so we were hungry. Off to Giraffe.


Ha, it looks like I'm calling him a giraffe. Bloody giraffe.


I wanted pancakes, but Coop said it was a burger or nothing. I had a steak burger, he had a chicken something or other. I asked for nothing on it, but that was too much to ask.


After lunch, Coop and I went our seperate ways. I didn't cheapen the moment by taking photos. I went off to kill some time in the British Museum and spoke to themanwhofellasleep on the phone. Sadly he was unable to meet me for a drink for one of the following reasons:
a) He had something to do at five
b) He hates me
c) Comedy answer - Monkey
Even sadder, I forgot the way to the museum despite the many signs, so I ended up walking towards Holborn tube station.


Just seconds after taking this photo the police arrested the man in the middle for being pregnant.


Look at my nostrils, they look fucking ridiculous.


For all they know they could be on an escalator to the hot, hot fires of Hell. People put too much trust in the London Underground.


Finally the busy, sweaty, overfilled tube I had been waiting for all day.


Victoria Station, named after Victoria Beckham.


The megabus doesn't go from London to Swansea anymore. It cost just a pound. Sigh.


Victoria Coach Station, named after the sponge.


The time is 16.58. The next coach to Swansea leaves at 17.00. Damn this queue.


Back to Victoria Station to arse about until 1900 hours. What have I bough from HMV?


I went to that shopping centre place thing between the two stations. £1.50 for 30 minutes of internet.


I'll never get the hang of this cockney rhyming slang.


My biggest regret about this trip to London is that I didn't grab this cyclist and kiss her.


I need some ice cream. My feet carry me whilst I search for the frozen treat.


There isn't an ice cream place to be found anywhere. Maybe I should just buy a house and turn it into an ice cream parlour. Not at these prices.


Seriously, do all nostrils look like this? I'm sure I've looked at other people's and they look nothing like mine.


I have to settle for boring ice cream on a stick from this place. What the hell is ARM Chicken. Chickens don't have arms.


This seemed as good a place as any to find out if my coach was on time.