Day 3, Saturday 5:10 AM, London

Yes, you have noted the time correctly. Yesterday we did nap for a couple of hours and then tried to stay up late. We went to bed at 11:00 PM. Just as we were drifting off Meghann asked “Can we sleep in late tomorrow?”

“We can sleep as long as you want,” I assured her, “But you won't want to.” I finished with a grin. She looked at me like I was crazy as she rolled over into the sleep of the truly exhausted.

4:00 this morning we were both staring wide eyed up at the ceiling. “Hello Jet Lag!” I said excitedly, “Its nice to see you old friend. Its been a long time. . . ”

I am now showered and ready for the day!

So, I suppose this is a good a time as any to tell you about our hotel. There are two hotels I always us in London. The “Dover” or the “Alexander.” They are exactly the same and directly across the street from one another. Who ever has the cheapest rooms at the time is my accommodation of choice. This trip the Alexander has the privilege of being the home of two way-word American girls.

We are paying $150 dollars for this place a night. If you were sitting here on my bed with me and I told you that you would gasp in horror! It is pretty cheap by London standards, but the Alexander is not exactly a luxury hotel.

Our room is on the top floor and up four flights of steep stairs. (yeah, that was a fun hike with our backpacks on!) Our room is tiny, and not exactly what I would call clean. The wall paper is peeling, the floors creek, and there is a giant brown water stain directly above my bed.
Our bathroom is mashed inside a closet. The shower. . . what can I say about the shower. . . I had forgotten how bad it was until I pulled the curtain aside this morning and peered inside. Well for starters the shower curtain is about three inches two short. Water flows right off it and straight to the bathroom floor. Nice! The shower head is large and flat and smack dab in the middle of the ceiling. There is no escaping the water! It reminds me of the shower heads I saw at Auschwitz, in the gas chamber room, when I was in Poland. There also seems to be a secret trick to the hot and cold water. I could not figure it out! Eventually I fell into a rhythm of jumping out when it became scalding hot and then back in as it turned warm and then back out again when it turned ice cold.

So, why do I keep coming back you ask? (and rightly so!) For me it is all about location. We are a couple blocks from the Victoria train station and underground station. We are close to a grocery store and Big Ben is a short jaunt away by foot. Well, and I suppose, most importantly I have been here so many times it feels like home. My own little neighbourhood in London. I never realized how important this was to me until I was showing Meghann around, “This is where we get groceries.” “This is the book store I like to wander through after a long day.” “This is where I like to get some girly smelling lotion and body spritz.” “This is the ATM machine where we will get our money.” Its comforting to be in a place so familiar when you are far from home.
The best part of our hotel is the window and the view below. I love to hang out it and watch London saunter by. Yesterday Meghann kept going back to it. She would gaze out like she couldn't believe where she was. At night I leave it open and drift off to sleep to the street noises below and the ping of rain drops on the glass.