London calling

If a young person asks you for your empty coke bottle on the non-airconditioned and rather muggy London "tube", they want to urinate in it. (Why, what did you think they wanted it for? Silly tourist.) I suggest changing carriages - surely they deserve a little privacy. They have to go. Now.

Of course, because the English are a polite and reserved people, the young person will probably turn around so you don't need to see the act you're hearing and smelling. And it's undoubtedly better for the carriage and future travellers than the alternative. In fact, the incident, if it even deserves the name, was barely noteworthy and I probably wouldn't mention it at all if I weren't planning to shamelessly strip-mine this trip for blogging fodder and yesterday had involved anything more blogworthy than the repeated observation that the planet is freaking huge and it takes an unbelievably long time to get to the other side of it. Which you've already tolerated.

I expect the denizens of this ancient city to provide us with some higher-quality anecdotes today, however. That is, after all, their job as carnival attractions on this "Europe" thing the airlines have set up. Hopefully we'll get to see the loveable cockney character before nightfall and he'll charm us with his disarmingly quaint way of looking at the world. Guv'nor!

So, if you will excuse me, it is time to spend the day objectifying Londoners and gratuitously fondling their landmarks. "Big Ben" has a disturbing morning ahead of it.