Day 38: Bring a Map.

Today was a designated shopping day. Jill, Annie, Elise, Robyn, Rachel, Mandy and I headed to the tube station, Camden Bound. My mission? Find a hardcore, black leather jacket. Yes... I already had a brown one. But I had decided a week ago that I wanted a black one. And it was going to be my birthday present to me! Hooray!

So, we all split up, ready to divide and conquer. Jill and I headed to the mass of clothing vendors under the green banner that said "Camden Market" in tacky white lettering, steeling ourselves for the usual onslaught of pushy salesmen, saying "You like it? Try it on! Special deal for you!" ...

We found the perfect jacket within about ten minutes... I had him down to 10 pounds below his starting price, but then he figured out that he didn't actually have a black one in the small size. So he tried to sell me the dark brown. Uhg. We scuttled away and I shrugged my shoulders. We perused the racks for a skirt for Jill, and kept our eyes open for a similar style jacket for me.

The trick about shopping for dresses or skirts anywhere in London is that they only believe in two lengths: super short and super long. So, when we discovered a cute, normal length dress, we were pleasantly surprised. When the salesman saw us looking at it, he swooped down and asked how much we wanted it for... I knew most the dresses were 20 plus, so I said 15. He got this look of absolute disgust on his face, and took the dress out of my hands. Holding it up, he said "This is not a T-Shirt! This is not a Jumper! T-shirts are 15 pounds. This is a DRESS! I give it to you for 25," his voice just seeping with disdain. We said thanks but no thanks and high tailed it out of there.

We got dragged into another set of racks when I was caught eyeing an adorable creamy lace number, and boy howdy, was THIS guy an adventure. He kept calling me his pet, and my dear, (which is relatively normal for what I've seen of Europe), but then he started saying I was the prettiest girl, and that I was "his model". And once he started leaning in close to my ear and whispering "I'll give you a special deal, just for you, my pretty model"... Jill rescued me and we made a mad dash around the clothes, yelling "thank you! we're not interested!" as we ran.

As we were about to leave, I spotted the same black leather jacket we'd looked at before. I asked the man if he had it in a small, and after a quick phone call, he announced that he did. When I asked him the price, he gave me the same amount the previous vendor quoted, and I said "Hey, a guy over there was going to give me the same jacket for 10 pounds less"... we bickered over it for a minute, and then he finally gave in. It felt good to finally have a backbone when it came to haggling.

And I walked out of there, jacket in hand. :) Or rather, on body.

Anyway, after that we started heading back towards our meeting place... grabbed some fresh squeezed orange juice from the lady on the corner, stopped once or twice to look at woven bracelets, and ended up in front of the big sign that said DRUMS, in bright red letters. (We weren't sure what the giant poster was advertising, but it was easy to spot, so we thought it was as good a place as any).

Our next stop of the day was Abbey Road. We knew which tube stop we wanted, but other than that, we had no idea where we were going. I suppose we thought the famous crosswalk we were searching for would be right outside the tube station, or at very least, just around the block. But, as we began walking in one direction, and then another, we quickly realized it was going to be a longer adventure than originally planned. We asked for directions... once, twice, three times. They all pointed us a different way, and we walked up and down until our legs hurt and our necks burned from the heat.

At least it was a pleasant part of town. And it wasn't raining.

We finally found the road we were searching for, but much to our dismay, there were no signs pointing us in the correct direction. No "Beatles pilgrims this way" or "THE crosswalk is that way". And unfortunately, Abbey Road is sort of a lengthy stretch of asphalt. And we had no idea which way to go.

We ended up walking for nearly an hour, and we'd finally resigned ourselves to simply finding a crosswalk on Abbey Road, taking the pictures, saying it was the right one, and keeping the secret till our dying day. We got so far as standing like John, Paul, George, and Ringo in the middle of the road, when a motorcyclist drove by, honked his horn, shook his head, pointed up the road, (and probably laughed a great deal at our expense). I mean, let's face it. We had to look like total idiots, standing there, posed like The Beatles at the WRONG crosswalk.

So, we walked in the direction that the laughing motorcyclist had indicated... And what do you know? Only two blocks along the road, there was a crosswalk. And at least fifty people standing at either end, waiting for traffic to ease up, so they could get their turn at imitating the Fab Four, hoping to immortalize the moment forever in a tacky tourist's photo album.

We hung around, and tried 2 or 3 times to get the perfect picture. Which, of course, is pretty much impossible when you're trying to walk in synchronization and keep from becoming road kill all at the same time.

The Abbey Road studio, still in working order, was there too: the white washed wall in front of it covered in signatures and confessions of love, all in honor of those four, shaggy haired boys.

Well, my life couldn't have been more complete. And I silently gave a sigh of relief. After being literally yards away from THE Abbey Road Crosswalk, I'd almost walked away without ever seeing it!(And with fake pictures to boot!) I don't know if I could have lived with myself. (Good thing we don't have to find out).

We headed in what we thought was the general direction of the tube station. We were steeling ourselves for another long walk... and then, two blocks into it, what do you think we run into? That's right. The tube station. HA!

That darn crosswalk WAS only a couple blocks away. We just got directed in every direction EXCEPT the right one.

Which teaches us a VERY important lesson kids. Don't underestimate the power of Google. Or bring a map.

Well after that we were all practically starved. So, we hopped on the tube, and headed to Covent Gardens.

This market is smaller than many of the others-(Camden, Borough, and Portobello). But much of it is indoors or canopied, so on a hot day, it's a good place to shop. I bought a baguette from one of the vendors and sat on a step with Jill while we ate. Below us a street performing string quartet began to play, and we enjoyed their lively entertainment as we chewed.

We finished our food and found a rubbish bin, (which is harder than you might think, by the way, because they've all but gotten rid of them in London, for fear of bombs in their rubbish-it's really rather aggravating when you've got a fist full of orange peel and no place to put it, believe me), and then we meandered in and out of all the little shops. Jill was looking for something for her mom, so I helped, and kept my eyes open for a child size T-Shirt.

And then, at the appointed time, we meandered back to the center (where the quartet had been) to a place called Yuphoria. We met Robyn and Cali, and went inside. We'd been told that this place was a MUST--frozen yogurt, fruit, and hot waffles. MM...

The special for the day was Passionfruit flavored yogurt, so I ordered that with raspberries and a waffle, and I was NOT disappointed. Whoever thought of putting frozen yogurt with waffles was my hero. (And just typing this is making me seriously hungry... uhhg).

After that delicious treat, it was off to Harrods.

Some of you may know about this crazy famous department store already... (I didn't). And for those of you who DON'T, let me give you a little sum up...

...This place is 7 stories high, and covers an entire block, all on it's own.
...There is a Tiffany's inside. And in the jewelry section there is a large, golden sphinx.
...There is a section devoted completely to just about every designer brand you've ever heard of; Dolce & Gabanna, Gucci, Prada, Burberry, Armani... you name it.
...The Sales-reps dress to the nines, and there is, in fact, a doorman.
...Like any department store, there is a kids section... with life size stuffed animals and go-carts. And they were even giving glittery butterfly tattoos for free!
...In the pet section they sell only the best, pure bred dogs, complete with 3 generation pedigree. Oh, and if you want to buy your brand new dog designer clothes, you can do that too.
...There is a hattery. Inside.
...On the first floor you'll find food galore, and one shop devoted entirely to macaroons.
...I was there for more than an hour, and I probably saw about an eighth of the store.

We began playing an excellent game, where you located the ugliest possible thing you could find, guessed the price, and then looked at the tag.

Someone discovered this heinous purple fuzzy fur number, that we BELIEVE was meant to be a vest. We made guesses ranging from 100 to 1,000 pounds. When we flipped the tag over, we nearly fell over.

3,000 pounds! That's $4,500.

But, I suppose with a name like Louis Vuitton you can sell a heinous purple fuzzy fur vest for 3,000 pounds... and get away with it.

We went home, and I wrote a paper. Sometimes I forget that I'm actually in school.

And then we went out to Wagamama's on High Street Kensington for dinner. There was a very animated Asian guy across from us who was alarmingly similar to Daxflame in his mannerisms. And Jill and I laughed and laughed, until he caught us looking at him, and then we tried to contain ourselves.

Boy howdy, what a day. :)