I arrive in London at 2:00. Figure out the tube just fine. Get off the tube. I can't see a single street sign or north/south orientation mark. I wander about randomly asking old ladies for directions. Recieve incorrect directions. Finaly orient myself by determining the layout of various tube stations I have passed relative to each other.
Half way through my meanderings I realize street names are fixed to the corners of the buildings. This greatly improves my navigational abilities.
My calfs are screaming with each step, my thighs ache as my duggle bag slams repeatedly into them, my kback/neck/shoulders pulse with the starin of two heavy bags (why did I buy books in Scotland?!) and my feet burn with each jolt on cobblestone. However - "It could have been worse." I eventually found my hostel, it was dry out and I didn#t have a hat box.
So it's now 4:30. Food is in order. Armed with new maps and specific directions ("Go that way," accompanied with a pointing finger.)
I make my way to the local Tesco and purchase my dinner. I purpose to eat it under the shadow of the Tower Bridge. One tube ride and a long walk later I am sitting under a tree on a wall at the Thames with the HMS Belfast in front of me and the Tower Bridge in the distance. Sounds perfect right?! It's pouring buckets. My feet squish with each step, my skirt is wet up to my knees and when I walk it whips against my legs. I keep on going. I get lost. Many times. My map is soaking wet. Somehow I manage to take in St. Pauls, the tower bridge, London Tower, London Bridge, the Millenium Bridge and some other nameless cool buildings. All by accident.
Decide to head home. The rain is really coming down now and my glasses are rain droplet covered making it difficult to see street signs. I get lost. Find tube station. The line I need is closed. Go back above ground. Walk aimlessly. Find myself surrounded by pubs. Walk faster and with purpose (get me out of here!). Find MIA street!! An hour later I arrive home. It's 9:15 and I'm exhausted.