Approx. 7:00am GMT
* * * *
We landed safely at Heathrow half an hour ago. To best absorb the culture, we're sitting in a TGI Friday's restaurant. We're absorbing the culture...unfortunately, it's the culture of Fresno.
We circled in a holding pattern for a while prior to landing, scribing lazy, wide ellipses in the sky over London. It's sounds like a cliche, but I'm struck by how green everything is here. Everything in California is brown this time of year. I can't wait to see Amsterdam, to see how much different it is.
Peter ordered a hamburger. Years from now, if it gets Creutzfeld-Jakob syndrome, we'll know to blame TGI Friday's Heathrow.
* * * *
During this time in my life, I'd decided to not eat any land animals, due in no small part to a three-act dream that I'd had. The first act involved vampires. I remember nothing of the second act, but I awoke from it, sat bolt upright in bed and exclaimed. "I can't eat chicken anymore. What the Hell was I thinking?" The third act was a scene of me explaining to a Future Farmers of America group that cats aren't meant to be omnivorous. I figured that it was a sign, and that if I couldn't remember what happened in the second part of that dream, I shouldn't eat poultry. Beef and pork naturally followed. This is important to note, because any time my travel entries mention anything about food, you should read it as "and I had a stale mozzarella and tomato sandwich."