The events of the evening.

Wow. This place is amazing. So far I have been to St. Paul's Cathedral, from the crypt to the highest gallery, the Tate Modern (though we only had 45 minutes there, so I really must go back, especially since all museums are free here), saw Les Miserables at the West End (we bought tickets an hour before hand for £22) and Othello in the Globe Theater.

Tonight, after Othello, we walked through the financial district on our way to Spittlefield for Indian food. Spittlefeild is a really cool area. There are tons of Indian restaurants, and at that point we were travelling in a ridiculously big group, so the one of the men outside the restaurants, whose jobs are apparently to entice people to come in, offered us free drinks and 30% off of our meals if we picked his restaurant. The service was pretty slow but the food was really good, and it cost 4 of us only £20 together for dinner. Afterwards, a few of us escaped the group by ducking into a really cool indie museum that had an "art cafe" in the basement, though we did not venture down there. The guy running the store told us about concerts in the area. We joined up with 3 more people in a hookah bar that was out of hookah, despite the name of the place being "The Hookah Bar," and drank delicious tea (and I don't even like tea). A few of our group (at that point, a managable 6) really wanted to find a place with hookah, and we found one not too much farther down Brick Lane called Casa Blue. It was a ridiculously eclectic space. They were playing salsa music, and had a few tapestries on the wall, one looking American Indian, and several others depicting machines of war from WWII, such as tanks, helicopters that said "USSR" on their sides, and machine guns. There was a stuffed animal chicken hanging from the ceiling, as well as a Brazilian football (read: soccer) jersey, and the requisite cool lamps you find in nearly every hookah bar I've ever seen, as well as blinking strands of lights. Interestingly, in hookah bars in London they also sell cocktails, though we stuck to tea.

We met some really interesting characters at Casa Blue. One of the members of our group, Greg, met a tightrope and stilt walking performer that is performing somewhere tomorrow at noon. He also does "high opera," but doesn't sing. Greg was a little fuzzy on the details when he related them to us, but apparently high opera means he is up high, as well as stoned. However, he doesn't smoke cigarettes because he has bronchitis, but I guess that doesn't stop him from his pursuit of altitude.

Meanwhile, my friends Meg and Jen and I spoke to this really interesting guy named Francois, who was born in France and moved to London with his parents when he was 16, and has lived here for the last 17 years. He told us all the sights to see in Paris, mostly the famous, touristy ones, but also a cafe called "The 2 Cigarette Butts," except in French, but I didn't catch it. He talked to us about the differences between the English and French, and how he got to vote whether or not they should put the pyramid up at the Louvre when he was a kid. He told us we had to go to a patisserie and look at the magnificent cakes, and how everything the French do is meticulous and perfect, from the cakes to every building, even in the poorer parts of the city. We talked a bit about America, where he had been once when he was dating a woman from Norfolk who was in the US Navy. He told us that it is really weird to him to hear the names of states when he asked us where we are from, because for him those places only exist in movies, and you only hear American accents regularly in TV shows, such as Night Rider and Prison Break. He professed a love of Mexican food, and says there are no good places to get Mexican food. Apparently they don't do it right in the few existing Mexican restaurants. It was then that I got the brilliant idea that would solve all of my problems of wanting to move to Europe but not wanting to leave my family: I'll be a lawyer in the States for a few years, make a bunch of money and spend very little of it, then we can move here and open up a Mexican restaurant, because there's no way I could do that without my Mexican food loving parents from Texas (among other places). It's perfect. After I related my brilliant idea, Francois told us about a couple from Seattle who came to London and couldn't find any decent coffee, so they opened a coffee shop, which became a hit, so they opened up a few more, and were doing really well, when Starbucks offered them a whole bunch of money (£2 million was the figure Francois gave us, though since it was in the flow of conversation, I trust the information but not the accuracy) to continue expanding their business as they pleased, as long as they used the Starbucks logo. He also told us about the differences between barristers and solicitors, being the latter, and how there's a tradition of hierarchy that is severely limiting the ability of lawyers in England to function as they should. Eventually, we had to leave so we could catch the Tube before it stopped running, and we parted with Francois with a handshake and kiss on each cheek, the European way. So far, our visit to the Casa Blue was my favorite part of the trip so far because of the combination of atmosphere and human connection.

It's getting pretty late (it's 1:49 am here), so I don't think I will be able to upload pictures as I planned to, since my computer cable is in my room, and I am in the computer lab, and what with getting it, and logging on to the slow computers in the dorm, and going through that whole process, it will take too long, since I need to read before I go to sleep, and I need to get up somewhat before class (which is at 10:50 for me, since they are splitting us in 2 for class tomorrow), so that I can call Mrs. Miller, my mother's friend who happens to be staying in London until Friday, which I have alternately forgotten and not had time to do over the past 3 days (I'm sorry Mrs. Miller).

Good night. I promise to upload photos tomorrow.