We got up Monday morning and finished packing our backpacks. We were taking the train to London, so our suitcases were going to stay in the trunk of the car.

We tried the charger store again, and this time it was open. The old guy working there was fantastic, too. He got me the charger I needed, and asked us all about our vacation. He also told us that he had ridden his bike from Brussels to Rome once. Holy crap.

We got the President from the valet, checked out of the hotel, and headed to the Atomium. Matt had found information about it only a few weeks before, and we couldn’t believe we’d never heard of it before. It’s exactly our kind of nerdiness, and it was amazing.

The Atomium was build for the 1958 World’s Fair. The spheres are connected via tubes containing either stairs or elevators. We got tickets and went to the elevator to ride to the top, which has a great view of the surrounding area.

From the top, you return to the second level and the tour spirals upward from there, and then back down. There are exhibits on each floor.

The tubes reminded me of space mountain.

We stopped at the souvenir shop on the bottom floor, then went to grab lunch at the cafe and ate outside on the patio.

We didn’t have a ton of time before we had to head to the train station, but we’d seen Mini Europe from above and it looked pretty awesome. We decided to get tickets and rush through it if we had to.

It was worth it. Mini-Europe is great!

We saw some things we’d just visited, and others we’d be seeing very soon.

I was particularly excited about Prague, and the Szechenyi Baths in Budapest.

We had to rush through the last part, and then headed to the car and set the GPS for Brussels Midi. That part went well until we encountered road construction, and were unable to drive the direction the President wanted us to. We had to circle around several times and attempt a different route to get it to finally recalculate correctly, and then we were back on our way. Traffic wasn’t helping much, either.

We found the station, but it took us a while to find the parking entrance. We finally got to the right place, took a photo of where the car was parked, and grabbed our backpacks to go to the Eurostar. We printed our tickets from the machine, filled out customs cards, and went through British passport control. (I wasn’t expecting passport stamps, so that was exciting.)

We had a few minutes to stop in the bathroom and the gift shop, and then it was time to board. A ton of people headed up the escalator and rushed to their train cars. It was much more well-marked than the Italian train system, so we had no trouble finding our seats.

Once we had left Brussels, we went to get food. The only vegetarian item they had was a hummus salad, so I went with that. (I’d specifically chosen the car next to the snack bar, because getting a cocktail on a train is just awesome.) We got gin and tonics to celebrate going to the UK, too.

The train stopped briefly in Lille, France, and then again in Calais so the French passport control people could get off. I was eagerly watching for the Chunnel to happen, but figured we wouldn’t really have any notice. Matt went to the bathroom, and of course we went into the Chunnel right at that moment. The entrance to it was pretty uninteresting anyway, but it did look just like the model we saw at Mini Europe.

England was exactly as I’d expected: rainy. It cleared up a little as we got near London, though. We arrived at St Pancras station, went through passport control again, and found our way out of the station. Our hotel was only about a mile away, but it wasn’t a great walk with heavy backpacks in the cold. Something we noticed immediately along the way too: people jogging in backpacks. They were all over the place in London!

We checked in and got our very dark room. We decided that meant that the British hate light, obviously. I made coffee in the room just for the sheer novelty of having hotel-room coffee. We changed into warmer clothes (not that we really had them: I had a light hoodie, thin pants, and sneakers instead of flipflops), and headed off to find Cotton’s Caribbean restaurant for dinner. It was several blocks away from our hotel, so we walked. We got a table, and were instantly happy. Jamaican food in London!

I had vegetable curry with the best dhalpouri ever, and a Mai Tai. Matt ordered the mixed grill and Rum Punch. Everything was really good. When we went downstairs to use the restroom, we discovered a big band holding practice downstairs. That was unusual.

We decided to head to another place within walking distance of our hotel for cocktails, since it was getting late. We found 69 Colebrooke Row (also known as the Bar With No Name) and were seated at a little table near the door. It was our kind of bar, with classic cocktails we knew well. We hung out there for a couple hours until the bar was nearly empty, and we figured it was time to go. We went to the bar to get our tab, and while standing there noticed that they had a bottle of Templeton Rye. It’s not even distributed outside Iowa, so that was really unlikely. We talked to the bartender about rye for a while, and then walked back to our hotel around midnight.

It was rainy again when we woke up Tuesday morning, so we headed out with umbrellas. We walked to St Pancras station to buy travel cards, then took the tube to Harrod’s.

The store was as ridiculous as I’d hoped. We took the escalators all the way up to the top floor and went to the souvenirs shop. We were there for a long time, picking out things for people back home. They had especially great products related to the Queen’s Diamond Jubilee. From there we went to wander around the food and wine shops, and saw things like a 1,500-pound ham, the Veuve Cliquot bar, and 10,000-euro bottles of champagne, for which you got a bottle to drink yourself, and one to be aged in a cave for up to 100 years, which you would leave to someone in your will. Awesome.

We consulted the map and headed off in a direction we thought would lead us to Buckingham Palace, but we realized several blocks later in front of the Victoria and Albert Museum that we were going the wrong way. It started to rain hard, so we went into the tube station and rode to Hyde Park Corner. That tube station led us to a series of underpass tunnels that seemed to maybe be leading to the palace, but instead kept ending up in a park bordered by uncrossable streets. We finally figured out how to cross, and headed down a few blocks to find food. I saw something that looked like my idea of a traditional British pub called Rose and Crown, so we went inside.

Their menu had vegetarian fish and chips made with haloumi! I was beyond thrilled about that. Matt decided on a pie. We got beers and placed our food order at the bar, and hung out at our table. I was happy to sit… many many days of intense walking plus cold and rain was wearing me out.

After lunch, we walked to Buckingham Palace. From the restaurant, it was just a matter of cutting through a park to get there. There was a crowd out front, and a bunch of construction on the mall leading up to it because of the Jubilee celebration and the Olympics.

We walked down the mall, and noticed that we could see the London Eye from the park. The Admiralty Arch was at the far end:

From there we went to Trafalgar Square, which had a giant Olympic countdown clock.

It would have been nice if the weather was better, but at least it had stopped raining.

We then headed over to the Savoy hotel. It was around 4:30pm, and everyone seemed to be getting out of work. The streets were crowded. We found our way to the back entrance of the hotel, and were pointed upstairs to the lobby. Of course we were very underdressed for the bar and were carrying a Harrods bag, but that didn’t matter much. The place was too big a part of cocktail history to miss.

We ordered a Champs Elysses and a Hanky Panky. (I was amused that Matt had to say that. It was invented by Ada Coleman, the head bartender at the Savoy before Harry Craddock, the only female head bartender there to date!)

Matt wanted to visit a famous menswear store called Baracuta, so we walked over there and found it in a little shopping area. It was raining again, and my pants were soaking halfway up my legs. I was cold, too, and not the slightest bit thrilled about it. We found the shop, and the guy who worked there was fantastic. We got talking about the Caribbean, and he told us we had to visit Antigua because they have 365 beaches. That sounded good to us, as we had already booked a cruise that’s stopping there.

Matt picked out a jacket, and was better prepared for the London weather. I was not. We finally found a Gap, so we stopped in there to shop. I found jeans and a light jacket that I really liked. I was so happy to have warmer clothes that I didn’t even care that it cost three times what it would have at home. We walked back to the tube and rode to Angel station (the one nearest our hotel).

We stopped at the Tesco by our hotel, because I needed scissors to cut off the bottoms of my jeans (they’re always way too long for me, and looked funny rolled). They didn’t have scissors, but we did pick up cider and gin and tonics in a can to bring back with us. Back at the hotel, I borrowed a pair of scissors, did my ‘mending’, had a gin and tonic, and then we were then set to go out for the evening.

We walked back to Angel and rode down to the Putney Bridge stop. (It seemed like it was a ways out of town, definitely more like commuter rail.) We followed bunch of people to the bridge and crossed the Thames, then walked down a few blocks to the Half Moon. Davina and the Vagabonds from Minneapolis just happened to be playing there that night.

We paid 10 pounds cover and got the last table on the floor, front and center. Matt went to get us beer, and later I went to order food at the bar. (I kind of like that system in the UK… you don’t have to wait for a server, and you pay up front.) Our dinner was awesome, and so was Davina’s set.

We decided to leave during intermission, so we could visit other places in London before the tube stopped running. We went to say hi to Davina, and got a hug from her for being there. We walked back to the station and rode to Green Park to find an old tiki bar called Mahiki. We knew it was only open for about another hour, but figured we could stop in. It was conveniently right there by the station, too, but when we got there they had velvet ropes, and the place was obviously fancy. They were charging 10 pounds cover, too, which seemed stupid for such a short visit. We decided to go elsewhere instead.

It was late, so after some debate about how to get around after tube-closing, we decided on the pub we’d seen walking back from the Bar With No Name the night before. It looked like a friendly neighborhood place. So we rode to Angel, walked over there, and it was exactly what I wanted… a quiet pub with good beer and entertaining people-watching. I kind of wish we’d just headed there in the first place, because closing time was going to be happening soon.

I got Camden Ink – an awesome stout – and Matt got the pale ale. When the place closed, we walked over to a different Tesco near our hotel. We picked up three packs of Go Ahead, some scones to have for breakfast, and a selection of England’s finest canned cocktails. (Seriously, they were good! I liked the gin and grapefruit.) We headed to the self checkout and watched the drama unfolding at the entrance, where the store owners were yelling at the people trying to come in, since they were also trying to close. We walked back to the hotel and had G&Ts in bed while listening to Matt’s favorite punk show on BBC radio.

We got up at 8:30, ate our scones, and were again thankful for having hotel room coffee for once. Then we headed over to St Pancras to visit the official Olympic souvenir shop, because we hadn’t really seen much in the way of Olympic stuff elsewhere. (We knew we’d be at the station again the next day, but weren’t sure what time the shop opened.) We picked up a few things, then crossed to the Kings Cross station side and got on the tube to Arsenal. (It was on my favorite line, the one that ends at Cockfosters. If you can say that without giggling, you’re more of an adult than we are.)

One thing I’d really come to appreciate in London (beyond hotel room coffee, gin and tonics in cans, people walking quickly, not speaking French, and good beer): they remind you which way to look for cars at intersections. It’s easy to forget.

We walked the few blocks to the Emirates, and Matt joined the squad:

The stadium was really impressive. One of the things I really loved was that they had banners on poles circling the plaza that featured photos of fans with little bios about their dedication. I wish we did that here.

At the far end, we found the statue of Thierry Henry. I LOVE HIM.

We circled the rest of the building, then went to the gift shop and bought a bunch of stuff. Matt was really excited to be there. (While we were there, we learned that the British pronounce Adidas like the Germans – i.e. the correct way. Apparently that’s only an American thing.)

We stopped back at the hotel to drop off our purchases, had a snack of Go Ahead and cider, then went back to the tube. We rode to Bank, then transferred to the DLR (Docklands Light Railway) to go to Greenwich. The ride on that train is really interesting… it’s mostly aboveground, and goes through the financial district, around the docks, and across the Thames. Halfway there, a big school group got on, and we knew exactly where they were going… with us.

We all piled off the train at Greenwich, and wandered out into a seriously adorable little part of London. I loved it a lot. We stopped at a souvenir shop, then consulted the map to find our way to Greenwich Park. Because we’re nerds, we really wanted to see the place where time begins.

The park was in the midst of a huge Olympic construction project, because that’s where they’re hosting the equestrian events. We checked out the arena they’re building, then climbed up the hill to the observatory. The entrance sign has the official time and measuring standards:

We didn’t want to pay admission to the museum, and of course the Prime Meridian line is within the museum’s courtyard. We could see through the fence where people were getting their picture taken.

However, you can go into the courtyard there, which gives you access to the gift shop. The Prime Meridian happens to pass through the building and out into the courtyard, so we just visited it there instead.

We picked up some souvenirs, then went back outside. We realized that there was an excellent view of the Olympic facilities from the hill.

We headed back down the hill and into town to find lunch. We chose one of the two really cute-looking pubs there and got a table near the bar. The place was called the Spanish Galleon, and it was a Shepherd Neame brewery. I ordered a beer called the Bishop’s Finger, just because of the name. Plus it was delicious.

Matt got fish and chips, and I had a vegetable sandwich. There was something about being in that style of pub again in London that made me really happy. It was just so stereotypical and awesome.

After lunch, we went to see the Cutty Sark. You know what Matt loves? Going on boats!

The whole museum was only very recently redone, and it’s really great. You tour the decks of the ship first, and learn the history of the tea trade.

They have a huge collection of figureheads in the museum. Is that the Burger King?

The view of the underside of the ship is fantastic.

We hit up the gift shop, then walked down to the pier to get on the water taxi. It has several stops along the Thames; we mostly just wanted to ride and get the view from the river.

The boat was a little cold, but worth it. Since we didn’t have a ton of time in London, it was a great way to see some things.

The Gherkin… Barcelona has basically the same building, too. Their nickname for it means poop, apparently. Oh, Catalunyans.

The traitors’ gate entrance is awesome:

The Globe Theatre:

We got off the boat at the London Eye. The line was crazy (is the line ever not crazy?) so we decided against riding it. Matt, who isn’t thrilled about heights, was totally ok with that.

We took some pictures, then crossed the Thames.

This particular area was packed with tourists despite the crappy weather, so there was the usual entertainment.

Big Ben, which hadn’t yet officially been renamed:

We saw Westminster Abbey and 10 Downing Street. At that point I was really damn tired of walking again, so we went to the tube. I was looking forward to a break, but of course it was packed (it was around 5pm). At least we could stand instead of walking, I guess.

Our destination was the Whisky Exchange at Vinopolis, which is quite possible the largest liquor store in the universe. It’s big enough to be marked on the tourist map, at least. We were primarily in search of their pour-your-own items, because they would be totally unique. It was basically a museum of whiskey, though. On the way there, we passed a movie set where they were filming a scene with a horse-drawn carriage. The neighborhood looked very appropriate for it.

We picked out a collection of mini bottles of scotch and a bottle of the Havana Club Seleccion de Maestros to smuggle home, then got an employee’s help for the pour-your-own (which is more like they-pour-for-you). He got us samples from all the barrels, and my tongue was numb by the end of the tasting. The guy who was helping us was hilarious, too, and had seemed to know basically everything about scotch. We got talking about smoky scotch, so he poured us Ardbeg Corryvreckan as well.

We decided on the Arras blended, Craigallechie single malt, and a rum from Trinidad. He handed us an unlabeled bottle and told us to remember what it was so he could mark them properly. Try repeating “Craigallechie” to yourself several times after a scotch tasting. It’s awesome.

Since the labels are made custom there, he said we could put any date on them we wanted. We went with our wedding date, of course. He wrapped everything up in masterful fashion so it would survive the trip home, which it did:

We took our two Vinopolis bags and rode back to the hotel to drop them off and relax for a bit. I had grapefruit and gin in a can (Snoop Dogg would be proud), and Matt had a Pimm’s cup (can). We walked to dinner at a place nearby called the Delhi Grill, which specialized in Indian street food. From there, we took the tube to Liverpool Street, in search of a cocktail bar called the Mayor of Scaredy Cat Town. It’s in the basement of a place called the Breakfast Club, and you enter it via a refrigerator door. (You also have to give them the secret phrase when you arrive.)

It took us a while to find it, and when we got there the upstairs place was full. I told them the password, and the girl there said the wait would be pretty long, since it’s a small place. She offered us a spot upstairs, but we decided to take our chances elsewhere. We headed off looking for one place, and only realized we were going in the wrong direction after walking several blocks. Matt mentioned that his friend had recommended a place he thought was nearby, so we managed to find its location on our map with very spotty wifi.

We walked past a huge office building that appeared to be empty, and the neighborhood was becoming less and less busy. (His friend said it was in a weird part of town, so that seemed ok.) We walked past a trainyard and some construction, and finally spotted a bar a few blocks away. We crossed the street toward it, thinking it was just a local pub that would work well for our needs. When we got there, though, we noticed that the place we were looking for was actually downstairs. We said hi to the doorman, and he pointed the way. We walked into a speakeasy-style place called Worship Street Whistle Stop (it was decorated with old furniture and barrels) that served the most creative and strange cocktails we’d ever seen. Nice work, recommender!

We ordered drinks at the bar, then found a two-person table nearby where we could read the whole menu. They were doing things like UV-aged whiskey, irradiation, cheese culture in booze, and something that was effectively made with dirt. It was all very entertaining. We had a couple of drinks there, and Matt tried the dirt cocktail.

After an hour or so the place started to empty, and we knew the tube would be closing up, so we walked back to the station and rode to the hotel. We cracked open our cider and got to packing up our stuff again, because it was already time to leave London. How could our time there have gone so quickly?

We got up at 8, packed up our remaining stuff, and headed on foot to St Pancras. Not only were we carrying the same heavy backpacks, Matt now had a Harrod’s bag full of booze, and I had all the other souvenirs crammed into a reusable bag I’d tied closed for safety. It seemed like a very long walk to the train station.

We already had our tickets, so we headed to security. They put the bags through scanners but didn’t seem to care about the contents. Then we passed through French passport control (which was sort of confusing since we were going to Belgium again) and ended up in a big waiting area with several restaurants around it. It was a much larger terminal than the one in Brussels.

We went to Caffe Nero and got cappuccinos and pastries for breakfast, and also grabbed sandwiches to take on the train for lunch. We grabbed seats in the lobby, and were very excited to find out that St Pancras had free wifi. NOBODY has free unprotected wifi in Europe. Right as we finished eating, they announced our train. We went up the escalator to the platform and found our car, which happened to be the same one as before. We just had way more stuff to cram onto the overhead racks.

Once we got far enough out of London that we knew the Chunnel had to be close, we kept an eye out for it. The problem with the UK side is that there are many, many regular train tunnels, so you end up getting excited about being in the Chunnel, then suddenly emerging into the light again. Finally we got outside Dover, saw the white cliffs, and were in the real thing. We had our sandwiches and G&Ts in a can to celebrate. (Just so you know, this is a picture of Bally in the Chunnel. It’s hard to tell it’s not just dark out.)

I was reading a book on my Kindle that kept making me cry. I wanted to stop reading it, but then I knew I’d have to just delay the crying til later. So yeah, I was sitting around crying on the Eurostar.

We arrived at Brussels Midi around 2pm. The shops were all closed and the station was nearly empty, because it was a bank holiday there. Even the parking ramp was deserted, which thankfully made it really easy to find the President there. He was waiting with all of our luggage intact!

Matt set the course for Paris, and we got on our way. I was sleepy most of the way, so we stopped halfway for beverages and snacks. We marveled at all of France’s famous farms again, and made it to our hotel exit shortly after 5. The Mercure Ponte de Pantin parking involved navigating a narrow driveway into a parking garage with tiny spots, so at that point I wasn’t at all thrilled with our gigantic Citroen. Getting into the last spot in the lot involved about a 40-point turn, but I made it!

Though we were only staying two nights, we had to unload absolutely everything from the car so we could reorganize our luggage for the return trip. We hauled it all in in their tiny elevator, checked in, and went to our room. It smelled like smoke when we got there, but we opened the windows and it aired out right away.

We were tired, so we decided to go find dinner somewhere, then pick up beers and bring them back so we could do the big packing/reorganizing project. We were tired, and figured we wouldn’t have time to see any of Paris before dark anyway. After hanging out in the room for a bit, we suddenly realized we didn’t have Bally. I knew we had just left him sitting on the dashboard in the car, but that still didn’t hold back a slight feeling of panic. We both went down to get him from the car in the garage. BALLY IS VERY IMPORTANT. Hey, we don’t have kids or pets, right?

We also knew hardly anything about the layout of Paris or the landmarks, so we looked at the metro map and picked a stop with a name we knew that was also on our same metro line for convenience. We walked the couple of blocks to the Hoche stop and rode to Bastille. The station exited right out onto the Opera plaza, and there were people everywhere. Walking right out onto the street in the middle of Paris was pretty exciting, I admit.

We headed in the direction of a bunch of restaurants and started looking at menus. A few blocks away, we found a place called the Iguana Cafe that looked alright. The downstairs was packed, but the guy at the bar said we could go sit upstairs. It was empty so we had little hope of getting a server, but shortly after we grabbed a table, other people started coming up. A server showed up with menus, we ordered food and drinks, and all was good.

While we were waiting for our dinner, Matt was watching people out on the street from the upper level. We were across the street from a bread and pastry shop. Suddenly his face lit up, and he excitedly told me that he just saw a man walking down the street carrying five baguettes under his arm. That was the most Paris thing we could possibly imagine. So funny.

I had four-cheese tagliatelle and a mojito, and Matt got steak frites and a Moscow mule. Matt declared himself an expert on Paris after seeing the baguette guy, so he started regaling me with facts. We were pleasantly surprised at the decent service we got; after other encounters with French-speakers, we were absolutely convinced that everyone in Paris would be a huge asshole. We were glad to be (mostly) proven wrong.

We were revitalized after dinner, so we decided to walk the few blocks down Ave de Henry IV to the Seine and see what the view was like. We got there and were initially confused, then realized we were at the portion of the river on either side of Ile St-Louis. We saw the very top of Notre Dame poking up over the buildings, so we walked down one side of the river in that direction.

Paris was gorgeous. I don’t know why that should seem surprising at all. I guess I’d heard the ‘romantic Paris’ stuff so often I figured it was a bunch of crap, but it’s totally true. It felt like place you’d be sad to be single in, though!

We crossed a bridge over to the backside of Notre Dame, looked at the gardens, then went around front. We weren’t really planning to do any touristy stuff that evening in Paris, but it was there, and it was really impressive.

Entry was free, so we went inside. They were just beginning some kind of strange projected mass on a screen in front, and the church was quiet and very dark. That added to the atmosphere, and also meant the windows were well-lit from the outside at sunset.

We crossed back to the north side of the river, walked a few blocks, and ended up at the Hotel de Ville. There were a ton of basketball hoops set up outside it, so we had to go check that out. It turned out that the French basketball association was having some kind of kids’ event, and there was a big billboard with Tony Parker and other basketball players there. We vowed to bring Bally back there the next day to take his picture.

I was really glad we’d gotten to see some of Paris, because it made me a lot more excited about the rest of it!

We took the metro back to the hotel and got to our repacking project. It was a lot of work, but we got all the souvenirs stashed away safely, and the weight of the suitcases seemed like it would work out after everything else was added.

We sampled a few of our scotches from London, and headed to bed shortly after midnight.