During my first ever jaunt across the pond mid-November of last year, I was nearly tempted to chuck my family and waive my rights as an American citizen.
The whole Dollars-to-Pounds conversion bit got in the way.
So yeah, even with nearly a thousand greenbacks in my pocket, I was virtually broke as a joke in London. And I fucking loved it.
But what didn't I love about England? It introduced me to things like hostels, which I fondly recognized back home as International Co-ed College Dorms.
Despite the fact that my travelmate and I -- like true idiots -- waved merrily at every double decker adorned with Harry Potter, the fair city of Paddington kindly ignored us and our neverending mistake of first looking Left then Right as we stepped out into traffic.
I loved the odd looks the staff of Wake!Up London shot me each day as I waxed poetic about castle ruins, crop circles and Stonehenge.
Apparently, only dumb Americans cream their pants over giant ferris wheels.
Every now and then, I find myself inexpicably tempted to end a convo with "Cheers, bye!" I wonder if the unlicensed taxi scare is prevelent in the US. I wish our subways, rapids and trains would kindly advise us to "Mind the Gap" cause that gap does need serious minding.
I still haven't a clue as to why "flats" aren't flat and why you can't find two inches of free space in a place called the Walkabout.
I, however, am proud to say that only once did I stare blankly after being told that something would cost me "Fifty quid."