I Hate You, Bike Thief

Yesterday I went outside, helmet in hand, hoping to go for a bike ride down Regents Street. When I opened the front door, it was raining, so I went inside. When it stopped raining, I picked up my helmet again to see if the weather would hold out this time. But again, I had to turn around and go inside because my bike wasn't there. Even though it was in much-less-than-perfect condition, some thief had clipped its lock off the post and taken it away. Again, I rode the elevator upstairs and put my helmet down. I went outside to walk to the West End instead. It was slower, but I stopped to look in some stores and even found a book written by the professor who teaches my Monday night class. My walk looked like this. At least I hadn't invested much money in the bike (Or the lock, but I guess that goes without saying) and I got to take it to Manchester and Liverpool and Blackpool and I definitely got my £75 worth.

This is where I used to park my bike. Note the absence of bicycle.

It's been a pretty dull weekend. Today I wrote a long essay about immigrants in Britain over the past 150 years. Friday I went to the Docklands Museum with a class for the third time.

Thursday, however, was a lot of fun. I went to York, a really old English city. Old York is different from New York in every way. It's small and slow-paced and quaint. It's so old that it had an old wall built by the Romans that people can walk on. I felt like I was walking on a mini Great Wall of China. Then there's the castle, built in 1068. The castle just looks like a little round thing on a hill, but it does have little slits for shooting arrows out of like in Monty Python and the Holy Grail, and it's incredible that it's survived a thousand years. York's town center is home to the Shambles, a street that used to be filled with butcher shop but now houses gift stores. Shambles looks like something from a movie with its 500 year old storefronts. Google named it the most picturesque street in Britain earlier this year, and it's not hard to see why. The second floor of all the crooked buildings hangs over the street for a really old-time feel. York is also home to a giant cathedral called York Minster. It feels as big as St. Paul's or any major cathedral in Europe. It completely dominates the little Tudor shops below, casting a big shadow on the rest of the city.

Old Roman wall.

Shambles

Now that I know how cool York is, I'm ashamed to admit that I wouldn't have gone there at all if it weren't for the National Rail Museum. For someone who likes trains, this museum is amazing. For those of you who don't like trains, well, I guess it's good you stayed home. This museum was really cool, it had the actual Hogwarts Express used in the movies, a Japanese bullet train, and railcars used to bring royalty around the country. I want my wedding here. Part of the museum was converted from an old cargo dock/shed on the railroad, and it's really pretty. It has the glass ceiling like most British rail stations have. The museum's set up elegant tables underneath, and visitors can eat dinner in an antique railway station. Since renting out Grand Central Terminal isn't really an option, the rail museum is a great place for a wedding.

Really long name of some place in Wales.

This is where I'm getting married!.

My train to York left from Kings Cross Station. It was then that I realized that Platform 9 was barricaded with automatic gates, and only ticketed passengers are allowed in. I guess I'll never find out I'm not a muggle.

My life here is starting to look like Homer's when he was in New York.