Last updated: May 14, 2014

Trouble’s Travels Volume VII: The First Solo Dolo Day



Previously in my series of posts about my Europe ’14 trip:

  1. Prologue: Trouble Returns From Travels
  2. Volume I: Getting To Poland – 30 Hours Of Delays, Kissing-Ass, And Getting Drunk In Airports
  3. Volume II: The First Night In Poland, Selling Strip Club Tickets
  4. Volume III: Getting Yadstopped
  5. Volume IV: Where Is Alpha Dwarf?
  6. Volume V: The Wroclaw Dash
  7. Volume VII: “I-So-Would” Go To London

Let me start off by saying that I would have been way more nervous if Poland or Barcelona (two places the English wasn’t superb) had been my first solo stop on the trip.  In hindsight, I very well might have missed my plane in Poland had Lucky not been there, simply due to not having enough signs in English.

Fortunately, everybody in London speaks English.

I am sad to say that most of my memories of my solo time are not quite as engraved in my brain as some of the Wroclaw memories.  As I stated multiple times throughout the trip on Twitter, solo travel can definitely get lonely at times.  Therefore, a lot of the sightseeing will be narrated simply by pictures.  Don’t worry, I have some stories, but you won’t see 6 posts for every location I was in like you were treated to with Wroclaw.  Rather, it will likely be about a post a day, with two days occasionally combined.

When we left off last, I had passed out in the lesbians guest room at about 8:00pm.

I set off on the tube for the London Bridge.  I got there, and realized that it really is not that spectacular.  It was then that I was educated that the real landmark London Bridge is in fact Tower Bridge, which is visible from the London Bridge.  Yeah, I felt pretty retarded.

London Bridge ain't all that.
London Bridge ain’t all that.
Tower Bridge is cool though.
Tower Bridge is cool though.

Once I finished walking through Tower Bridge, I proceeded to get lost as hell for the first time, wandering deep into some suburb before I finally found a train to get me back to the center of the city.  One way or the other, I ended up at Big Ben, which was probably my favorite site to see in all of London.  The best shot I have of Big Ben was taken near the London Eye:

Ben from The Eye.
Ben from The Eye.

At this point, I was tired as hell from walking and had probably already logged a solid 5 miles on the day.  So I, like a typical tourist, bought a bus tour pass, which got me touristic rides around the city for 48 hours for all of 30 pounds.  And truthfully, it is very cliche, but these things are fantastic if you want to see everything, not get lost, and you want a break from trying to navigate.

Of course, my bus pass also included a Harry Potter tour!  Being the fucking nerd I am, I went and did it.  Made some cool, nerdy friends along the way, too.  It was a little over the top, but it was neat to see some of the movie filming locations, as well as some of the places that inspires the book in the first place.  Diagon Alley, Cecil Court, etc.  I don’t have any good photos of this.

I wandered around a bit more and eventually caught the Tube back home, where I knocked out for about three hours, until 9pm.  I decided to roll out solo for the night, but had no idea where to go.  I decided on a place called Soho, where is on the west end of London.

Sadly, I have no pictures from this entire night.

I settle on a pub and start drinking.  Two beers in, a young group of English lads (look, I’m even talking like them) asks if they can steal some chairs.  We start chit-chatting and whatnot, and they’re actually really cool guys.  They are absolutely fascinated by the fact that I’m there by myself, and even more fascinated by the mention of my blog.

Of course, the talk starts going heavily into game, and we decide to bounce to another pub, though I can’t for the life of me remember where we went.  It was on the border of Chinatown, that’s about all I know.  The place is surprisingly popping for a Monday night, and before I know it, I’ve had one too many beers and am realizing I’m about at my limit.  Thankfully though, I show off my game quite well.  I opened a French girl with red hair, who happens to be there with her sister visiting.

A little chitchat on the roof, and one of the English lads starts macking with the friend.  I’m impressed, because this guy, Ollie, looks to be about fifteen years old.  He looks like a little punk skaterboarder you would see in an Avril Lavigne video.  French sister is 24 years old.  I also met some cute young ladies from Brazil, one of whom threw up, and in general had a blast in the venue teaching these young guys a little bit about game.  I ended up giving them the link – so if you lads are reading this, drop me a line – I’d love to stay in touch.

Finally, at roughly 2:30am, the two girls and the two guys I’m with want to find an after party.  I’m realizing though, I’m at the end of my energy, and there’s no sense in killing myself when I’m not looking to score with either girl.  So, we find a street promoter who promises a good party (doubtful), and I bid adieu to my two new friends, sending them off with two cute French sisters.

As for those who say game is bad – fuck you.  I’m practically a saint.

Check back on the next edition of travel posts, where I explore more of London and visit The Shard.

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