Few trips are as audacious as international alternative travel, or “alternational travel”. Witness, two days in London, part one.
It all starts with good timing: spotting the sale fare and padding the weekend with one vacation day. Pack light; nothing screams importance like minimal luggage. Find the empty row on your red-eye and splay out for a nice long nap. Dream about the shitload of points you’re earning. Land in Heathrow on Saturday morning and find the friend who is joining you for the weekend. Make a mental note of how shitty LHR is compared to airports back home. Get on the tube and head to downtown London, but not before balking at the £6 price of a day-pass. Mind the gap. Whip out the $15 guidebook your bought from Borders (and plan to return) to decide where you want to go sightseeing, drinking, and eating. Check into the hotel, but be sure you are upgraded to the Executive Level. Gold status will get you there. Fuck, forty thousand points per night. What was I thinking? Oh well, shower and get ready to party. Call up friend you met on trip to Europe and figure out plans for the night. Get a good buzz going in the executive lounge, courtesy of the free alcohol (’honour bar’ is not in the English dictionary). It’s now 6PM and you have been in London for 4 hours. Go find a place to have dinner..preferably a pub, but since the last meal you had was nuked at 37,000 feet, anything will do. Text your friend again, get on the tube, and meet; an unlikely reunion. Hit a true pub to drink, catch up. Drink some more and reminisce. Damn, it’s already 1AM….local time. What time is it back home? Fuck if I know. Time to get to bed. Eleven hours in London and I still have another two days left. Dream about how much this trip is costing you: almost nothing. Nice…..
to be concluded