Monday, March 13, 2006

Indiana Jones and the Cheesecake of Doom
HEY!HEY!HEY!HEY!!!

It's me again. I've decided that since my sister is sick, and she doesn't like my Magic posts, that I will postpone them for a little while. This week will be England week! Feel free to hum that tune. I'll tell you all about my trip over the Atlantic last summer.

Okay, so I was picked to join this ambassador program called People to People, and they send kids all around the globe. A couple of my friends came too, so that was cool. The flight was 8 hours long, and that is an unnecessarily long time to leave a candy bar in your pocket (believe me). So, we got off our flight and met our guide for the next three weeks. His name was Steve, and he was Irish. Steve was a really cool guy. He didn't have a lot of hair, was kinda short, and was a wee bit plump. He had problems saying the number thirty three, due to his accent. We'd make fun of him for that, since it would come out 'tirty tree'.

So, our first stop was Hampton Court Palace in London, home of Henry VIII. I got to see some of those famous red telephone booths on the way! The thing is, they have, well, porn in them. You know, those pictures with the numbers under them. I found that a little gross, but was too busy dodging traffic to really dwell on it. We lost 4 kids on the first road crossing because they looked the wrong way. It was sad, to say the least. Hampton Court Palace is bloody huge! My group was walking around for 6 hours, and we only saw about half! It probably didn't help that we got lost(curse you, hedge maze!) but it was very impressive, none-the-less.

Okay, so it's been at least 14 hours since Any of us has eaten (I don't count airplane food, and neither should you.) So Steve takes us to an "Italian" restraunt. I emphasize that because it wasn't really Italian. We were served Cornish Pasties, which I found fairly enjoyable. The whole situation was funny. Here we were, in an Italian restraunt run by Spanish guys, eating English food, in London. Then dessert rolls along. We have two options. Fruit, or cheesecake. Everyone at our table orders, and then he gets to me. I say fruit. The waiter cocks his head, and says "Cheesecake?" I politely reapeat myself. Again, "Cheesecake?" Apparently the man was hell-bent on me eating cheesecake. He was also making a shuffly hand motion the whole time, which I wish I could show you. After repeating myself about ten times he got the message, and I got my pear.

Next time, I stay at an odd hotel, meet a member of parliament, and watch Bialistock and Bloom go to the top. So long!

Man, my posts have been really long lately...
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