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After walking around all day (something we would do a LOT of while I was there), we went to the bar that Molly’s boyfriend Nathan works. Nathan had met some random guy who was an art handler at the Smithsonian and they were in a deep discussion about existentialism or something. We went to a different bar, and they kept talking. He was an odd guy. He prefaced a lot of sentences with "I’m not gay, but..."

At the bar, I was introduced to a crazy European phenomenon where you actually have to PAY to pee. They have coin-operated bathrooms in most places, which is really damn annoying. Especially when you’re on your third bottle of beer, and it’s not as easy to fumble with a 2F piece.

That night we went out to this really good restaurant called Babylone Bis that served African and Antillean cuisine. Our reservation was for 10pm, and we were the first people there. Apparently the French are a people who eat very late, because the restaurant didn’t open until 8pm but didn’t close until 8 in the morning. Anyway, as I find that eating my way through a country is the only way to go, I had a heaping plate of chicken peanut sauce something-or-other and damn, was it tasty. Washed down with wine, of course, which is the national drink of France.
Sunday morning I took the Channel Tunnel, or "Chunnel" (cute, isn’t it?) from Paris to London to meet up with four of my friends who were spending their spring break there. Now I was pretty trepidatious about taking the Chunnel because first of all, part of the time you’re actually under the English Channel. Now I don’t know about you, but that sort of doesn’t sit well with me. I like being on trains where you can actually see where you’re going. And I certainly didn’t want to see little spurts of water in the dark of the tunnel. But all my fears were unfounded as you’re only under the water for about 20 minutes of the 3 hour ride ( a three hour tour...). I did get a nice view of both the French and English countryside. But I did notice that the English countryside had a LOT more sheep than the French did. Which I will just leave for you to draw your own conclusions. Another thing about the ride into London was that I think just about every house we passed had a satellite dish attached to it. Apparently BBC1-4 just isn’t enough for these people.
I met my friends at Waterloo station without a hitch, despite having my train delayed 45 minutes because of ‘technical difficulties.’ We went directly from the station to Buckingham Palace. But it was Sunday, so it was closed. There weren’t even any of those Palace guards that aren’t allowed to laugh standing outside, so I felt sort of cheated.
This thing was big and imposing and I thought I should take a picture of it just for posterity. I’m guessing it’s Queen Victoria, what with it saying "Victoria" in big letters. There’s my amazing powers of deductive reasoning for you.