Please Mind the Gap. Please do not stare directly at the Britons.

Ahh Streatham Hill. My old lodgings gave me a bit of an uneasy feeling, but you lot chalked it up to me just being a green traveller. Streatham, 2002's "Worst street in Britain", never quite recovered from an economic downturn it took in the late 50's (culminating in the 80's-natch). Today it is a curious mixture of families whose homes sell for well over £500,000 (that money = crazy) and asylum seekers (predominately from Somalia). That was the feeling! I'd better qualify that lest you think I have a Somalian-sense (most useless superpower ever). You see, my doorman was some kind of creeped out by the area, and it radiated. I've now taken residence at the ACE Hostel in West Kensington, sadly it lacks the Somalian asylum seekers, depressed Bangladeshi door men who speak of the neighbourhood while shaking their heads back and forth, and packs of old Jamaican men whose conversations read like a rum commercial ("Lifes too short too be surly son"). For the next four nights I'll be sharing my room with a group of three Italian "bestest friends ever". Seriously, these guys are tight, its a thing of beauty. Our room is clean, as it is hot as an oven (thus baking the germs into a powder that the English use as a condiment).

Thanks to Sarah for emerging as most useful comment (empirically validated by most any opinion I'd ever care to listen too), as our winner, Sarah will be awarded a picture postcard of either a randomly selected royal, or a baby dressed like a cabbage!

Trip report. Stay away from "Old Speckled Hen Bitter". Just...trust me. I took some parental advice a toured the tower of London. It was phenomenal, absolutely worth the price of admission (so long as you could dart your way through the gift shop so as not to get stuck, a skill I have honed in my professional life). Best fish and chips so far for only £4.50 at a shop right by the river. I did some fierce meandering, ended up with only an hour at the Tate modern. I figured "who cares about modern art?" now I figure "who cares about things-not-modern-art?", oh yes he did. I shall be back.

I've tried my hand at souvenir shopping. Don't expect anything, even those of you who more than deserve it, if an item doesn't tell me that I need it how will I ever know if someone will want it (that goes for you too Harrods, absurdly opulent palace of smarm)?

Oh! I had an awesome talk over coffee with a Linguist who is interested in Neurology. I'll visit her in Brighton so she can finish explaining how fractals can map semantics to neural networks (and see Brighton...but mostly the first thing).

Too much typing, I'm sorry. My best to all of you.