day two.

day two began with the beginnings of a hangover. perhaps too many pints the night before? nick returned offering vague excuses of a pool game gone bad and a man from slovokia. i decided to eat a green apple for breakfast despite warnings from everyone that it wasn't ripe. i accepted the challenge. lost. hangover won.

checked out of hostel at 10:30. waited outside for our driver and our 8 passenger van to arrive. an hour later, shrimpton (the driver) shows up with a 5 passenger van. and a debate begins between us and shrimpton. this is not the van we aggreed upon. there are 8 of us. eventually we win, sort of. shrimpton's company admits mistake. but we are still without a vehicle. jason, sam, gringo pete and shrimpton dissappear for hours. the rest of us hang back at the 639 hostel where we are offered a place to play on our free night. we accept the offer. rough posters are made. by 3pm, no sign of our boys. start to worry. jason, sam & pete return minus shrimpton. and we are introduced to "big red" our mercedes van of enormous proportions.

sam has now been crowned our UK tour driver and jason, his handy navagator. we hit the road. go to instrument hire office to pick up our instruments . eat some monkey nuts. get caught in horrendous traffic in london and on the M1. drive to victoria's biker pub in leicester. down some bitters. play a show while trying to figure out our hired gear. drink some more bitters. and crash that night in our new home away from home, the "welcome break" or UK truck stop.

meet big red.

instrument hire (note the cobblestone street - how quaint)

awwww....monkey nuts.

gringos rockin at the vic.

day one.

rolled into london around 11am. met up with tour-mates (gringo star) and hopped a train to chelsea. checked into 639 hostel (next to a creepy old cemetary and the infamous wormwood scrubs prison believe it or not). hopped a train downtown to pick up cds. ate a bacon buddy (sandwich) with brown sauce. became addicted to brown sauce. hopped train back to hostel but got stuck at piccadilly station. after 15minutes of swealtering heat, hailed a cab. found out later that someone thru themselves on the tracks. bad omen?

freshened up at hostel and hed out to the royal crown pub. downed pints of bitter. i have no idea why it's called bitter because it's as smooth as silk. got lost on train ride back. bought a beef pasty at the train station. made it back to 639. headed up to our 8bed dorm. settled in. noticed nick was missing. passed out.

639 hostel.

gringos matt and nick catch up on local gossip heading southbound.

the royal crown.

which way is back?

where's nick?