We left KC on the 20th and got to London around 11:00 am on the 21st. We caught the Underground at Heathrow and took it to North Greenwich, the station closest to our hotel. I feel I must take a moment to commend the Underground on its ease and relative cleanliness. Oyster Cards are incredible (look it up if you come) and any place that doesn't use a similar system is missing out. That being said, the Underground has a B.O. issue that should be addressed. Maybe some sort of air conditioning would help. Showering more often could also do the trick (I'm looking at you, Brits).
Anyway, once we got to our hotel we had an epic battle with the lights. We honestly could not figure out how to turn them on. I had to call the front desk. It turns out there was a little slot by the door where you must insert your room key for the lights to come on. At first I felt stupid for not being able to figure this out, but then I decided that the hotel is stupid for allowing such a thing to exist. After turning off the lights (by removing my key card), we took a quick nap. I did not want to get up, but Jess made me. We grabbed some food at a place called Nando's, which serves something they call Peri-Peri chicken, a Portuguese/African recipe supposedly. It was delicious. It reminded me of the chicken at Pardo's (see austininperu.blogspot.com). Afterward, we hopped on the Tube and took it to Westminster, the station that serves Parliament, Westminster Abbey, and other cool stuff. Parliament really is breathtaking. I never knew Big Ben had a lot of gold embellishment, but it does, and it's awesome. After taking way too many pictures, we started walking up the river past the London Eye. We wanted to see the Tower Bridge. It took us a while to figure out that you should not pass the London Eye if you are walking towards the Tower Bridge from Parliament. Not feeling like backtracking that far, we again jumped on the Tube to the bridge.
Some more pictures were taken and then it was time to eat. We found a really cool cafe by an old church. I don't remember the church's name but it was old. Parts of it like 1200s old. The restaurant was Cafe Brood. We had some sangria and paella. A very Spanish meal for a very non-Spanish city. Then sleep time happened.
The next day we went to Wimbledon! Ever since I first played tennis it has always been a dream of mine to go there. Tennis is a much bigger deal in England. There were posters of Andy Murray in subway stations and all over the newspapers. Anyway, we took the Tube to Southfields, the station nearest the All England Tennis Club. This was confusing seeing as there are two stations with the word "Wimbledon" in them. We had to "queue" (wait) in line for a few hours before we could get in. The lines build up very early. Wimbledon reserves a certain number of tickets for the day-of and we were lucky to get them. We only had ground tickets (courts 3-19) but that was definitely okay with me, seeing as the people who got stadium tickets were just waking up in their tents. It didn't rain at all until we got into the grounds, and then it poured. All we got to see was some player training with her coach before it started. Regardless, matches still went on in Centre Court (because it's covered) and we still got to see all the courts and Henman Hill/Murray Mountain.
Waiting in the queue, queueing cards in hand. 
After we got back to the hotel, we dropped off some stuff and went to the Sainsbury's to grab some bagels for our early morning trip to Stansted Airport. We grabbed the sought after baked good and went to pay. The lines were very long, so Jess and I split up to see which line would move faster. The British man behind me did not like this at all. Out of nowhere I hear, "You might as well go over there with your friend, because I am going after him," pointing to the man in front of me. I told him that is not how things work. He became very flustered and reminded me that I wasn't holding anything. Sorry, I mean he reminded me that I wasn't "f*cking holding anything." I fixed that problem by calling Jess over and now I was holding something. He started yelling and said, "You're f*cking playing with the queue. You can't f*cking play with the queue. I am going next. You might as well f*cking leave." First off, it's a line, not a queue. Deal with it. Secondly, we didn't leave, in fact, we made damn sure we went next. After paying for our bagels, I walked back to him, gave him a good point, and said some inappropriate things that I won't mention here. Austin 1, angry English guy 0. We walked away victoriously, delicious cinnamon-raisin bagels in hand. Jess: I would like to thank you for your support, I could not have done it without you. Nothing much happened between this and our arrival in Rome, where way too much happened. I will post about that later. We just finished walking all day and I am exhausted. Will get more time in London in a couple of weeks, so I am sure I will have more to tell.
Well played with the bagel incident, sir. Well played. Hilarious, in fact! Lol.
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