We arrived on monday morning, way too early - but I think ive complained enough about waking up before ten - and immediately went to UCL. The college is nice, although some of the associated buildings are crap. I seriously hate that 1973, or even worse 1982 'brown is a super hip colour' building style that looks like....crap. Just for you information, we were rating universities' quality by their architectural accomplishments. Nobel-prize winners, Pullitzers, scholarships... it all pales to utter insignificance in light of a beautiful building. So yes, UCL was ok, but not top notch. We walked down from UCL to Oxford Street and Regent Street to our hotel on picadilly. I finally got the chance to show my friend, who is a geographical prodigy, to show that I actually know london - which was only marginally successful. We checked into our hotel, it was as we expected, below every imaginable standard. And then we went shopping. Harrods - tried on 3000+ quid coats -, bought some new business cards at fortnum and mason, and just the regular thing. Tea at 4 etc.
At night, we tried to find a decent restaurant at nine, which was impossible (capitol of the world... humbug) We ended up in soho, and little did we know - or the lonely planet for that matter - that it is packed with transvestites and other crackpots these days. In five minutes i had been offered the whole range of available narcotics. But quickly allow me vent my opinions concerning the lonely planet. My friend (C, btw) brings the damned thing everywhere, because he is a backpacker. I hate backpackers, and backpacking. I hate cheap hotels, sharing my room with people I dont know, leaky showers, no amenities, the little chocolate on the pillow when you arrive. Therefore, I used to make sure that when i went to a hotel it was not listed in the lonely planet, so that there would be absolutely no smelly hair braiding jobless backpackers. However, as a student, I have had to implement some economy drives, because my parents do not pay for classy restaurants and distinguished hotels when they are not actually there with me. Alas.
So back to london. The next day we went to oxford, college hopping. I've decided I either want to go to balliol or magdalen. I especially like the chant "Magdalen has a deer park, St. Cross has a carpark'. I was hoping i'd be able to look up some friends while there but apparently the academic year hadn't started yet.
On friday, we did the LSE and Kings college. Both lovely buildings, although architecturally i prefer Kings. About that time my feet started to hurt so bad that i couldnt walk anymore. I have these lacoste shoes that have been nothing but a pest ever since i bought them. But then again, now that i have them i feel i ought to wear them, and ruined my achilles thingy while doing so. After Kings we checked out imperial, which we thought would be grand because it is in kensington, but appeared to be repulsive. I will waste no words describing it.
Finally, on the last day - and i know this story is becoming rather long winded - i took my LSATS. I was horribly unprepared, bummed a pencil from some girl, than a plastic bag from a guy, then some more pencils from another guy, and i think that was about it. The location, ironmongers hall, had class and style, and so did the lady who explained the rrrrules and rrrrregulations. However, being a bit weathered because of her age, i presume dementia had already set in, she took fuckin five hours to get us through the test. Was done at 7, flight left at 7:15.
Had to spend the night at the airport waiting for the next plane. on the horribly cold floor. fun
well anyway, here I am, back in one piece.
