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Reid and I went from Barcelona to London on January 6. We visited the London Gatwick Airport for the first time, which was pretty exciting, and then we found our hostel.

Finding the hostel was kind of interesting. You know how I got really grumpy in Grenada because I was hungry? Well, it was Reid's turn to get grumpy in London because...we got lost. Not totally lost, mind you. We just walked up and down a few wrong streets before we found the right street sort of on accident. But hey, we made it to our hostel!

We were ready for lunch, and so we decided to go to this pub I remembered, The Dickens Pub. It's the Longest Pub in London, and it had good food. The problem was, I forgot where it was. I was convinced it was just outside of the Victoria tube station, and so Reid and walked all the way around the Victoria tube station before deciding to go to another pub called The Victoria. It turns out that Dickens is outside of the Piccadilly tube station. But hey, we made it to a pub!

We had a delicious lunch in The Victoria, where we met a nice couple who brought their rat-like dog into the pub. Apparently the rat-dog's name was Joy, too, which is some kind of funny. Another kind of funny: the lady let the dog drink her beer. Now, I don't know much about alcohol and its effects on the canine body, but this dog was maybe four pounds, and I think a few sips might have seriously impaired this dog's judgment.

After lunch, we went to the London Eye:


We ended up going at night because it was 4:30 pm and England gets dark roughly three minutes after the sun rises, but that made London look even cooler from the Eye.

We took a lot of pictures in the Eye. In this one, I think we look related:


Which we are.

I am not the biggest fan of heights (I once sat cross-legged on the top of a mountain for ten minutes, terrified that I might fall over the three-foot-high safety fence and roll picturesquely to my death), and the Eye is 450 feet in diameter. This means that it is 450 high at the top, which is very high. And scary, if you are me:


And here, ladies and gentlemen and children, is London at night:


Pretty impressive, yeah? Here's another picture of London at night:


You might notice Parliament, Big Ben, and Westminster Abbey right there in the middle. That's what they look like at night from 450 feet in the air.

Then we got off the Eye, and our mom called me with some good news. Reid got the IB Diploma! Yay, Reid!

We left the Eye and went to King's Cross Station. Hm, you say, King's Cross Station sounds familiar. Why is that? Well, I will answer your question with two pictures (both of which have the sign for Platform 9 and 3/4 in them):





I think now is an appropriate time to inform you that I am not actually at Oxford University. I am at Hogwarts.

After being magically whisked back and forth through a brick wall, Reid and I went to go see a show in London's West End. We chose Zorro! Zorro! was a perfect choice because it had little bits and pieces of Spain and Spanish culture in it. There was even some flamenco dancing. While Zorro! was not the most impressive show we'd ever seen, we enjoyed it a lot. The actor who played Zorro was hilarious, and the actress who played Luisa sang beautifully. Plus they lit a 'Z' on fire at the beginning, and hey, who doesn't love (safely and professionally controlled) fire? Reid and I both felt like seeing Zorro! was a great way to end our Spain trip outside of Spain.

On January 7, Reid left, and I was very sad. It was quite a task getting Reid home, as his plane in Heathrow was delayed for two and a half hours. We were all kind of worried for a little bit because all Reid had with him, besides clothes, was his MU ID, 5 English pounds, and 12 American dollars. (On an unrelated note, Reid, you owe me 5 English pounds and 12 American dollars.) He eventually got home to Kansas City, and I went on my way back to Edinburgh to meet Robyn, Brett, and Madison again.

On sort of a side note, between December 29 and January 9, Reid took seven airplanes, five buses, and six trains, and I took five planes, five buses, and seven trains. That is a lot of sitting in small seats.

Robyn, Brett, Madison and I were in Edinburgh January 7 and 8. We visited the Royal Mile, the outside of Holyrood Castle, and Brett and I bought plaid things. I also discovered the two coolest streets in Edinburgh. Here is one:


And here is the other:


Forsyth's Close, incidentally, might have been named after my ancestors on my mom's side. The plaid I bought was the Forsyth tartan, the official plaid of the Forsyth clan. Yeah, we have a clan. And it's Scottish, and maybe has a street named after it.

The night before we left Scotland, we watched the movie Highlander. Robyn had been telling us about this movie for days, because it was set in Scotland and apparently a movie you just have to see. Well, I am here to tell you: you have to see this movie. It takes "bad movie" to a whole new level.

It was made in 1986 by the same director who later brought us such classics as Tale of the Mummy, Duran Duran music videos, and, yes, Highlander II. Sean Connery is an immortal Spaniard from Egypt with a Scottish accent (and we all say together, What?), the villain sounds like his throat is full of gravel, and the only other English-speaking role the main actor had before this movie was Greystroke: the Legend of Tarzan, Lord of the Apes, where he only had a few lines. Oh, and Queen did all-new original music for the score. Please, just humor me and watch the trailer:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kq4SqgxIKM0

Seriously, it's the worst movie you will ever see in your life.

On January 9, Robyn and Brett and Madison and I had the longest. bus ride. ever. from Edinburgh to London. It was nine hours, and there wasn't enough leg room for the rat-dog named Joy, let alone any of us.

We then had to take another bus from London to Oxford. Our bus driver was Lucifer. As in, the Devil. If ever anyone was a walking anti-smoking ad, this guy was. His voice was so ruined that when he spoke over the intercom to announce the next stop, it sounded as if we were slowly descending through the circles of Hell.

We got back to Oxford quite late on January 9, slept very well, and then woke up the next morning ready to begin the term!

My break was great. I loved spending time with my little brother (even if he does put his thumb over the street names on maps), and it was great to visit two new countries! Thanks for persevering with me through this five-part trilogy (Don't Panic.) about my break of travels. From now until March 14, it's back to normal: I won't want to do homework, so I'll update this blog instead.