The Times, 72 font: "Bird Flu Now a Mere 400 Miles From Britain!"

I think what I find so interesting about London, and at the same time, so grossly unappealing aside from the "eye", is that an extremely large majority of the people you pass on the street are not Londoners. Sure, it's an international city, with travelers from all over the world taking snapshot after snapshot after relentlessly repeated photograph. But not only multi-nationals crowd the best picture taking sidewalk space --"oh excuse me, I didn't see that you were taking a picture here....I'll walk in the street........Oh right...on the left side.." -- It's Britons by the Tubeload! When I think of it, which I did earlier and you can now, London is to the fog-breathers as New York is to us Yanks: We know its there, hell, we can drive to it; it's the capitol -- well....I mean really, are we ready to give up this D.C. charade? -- We almost consider it part of our daily lives (esp. when it's bombed!). But truth is, the average...say...Carolinian is about as familiar with the best place to find a reuben in New York as is your common bloke from Derbyshire with the bloody Waterloo Bridge!
Still, its good time spent. The more people I meet the more similarities I see. I mean, who doesn't like sausage and beans two meals a day and tea at seven and five? Interesting to note is that the Hostel at which I am currently struggling to draw a word out of some and a smile out of the Germans is full not neccesarily of travelers like myself. Sure, a group of midwestern fems checked in today, and Hayes, my roommate, 35, from LA, is still finding himself. But near half of the folks I have met are semi permanent residents, looking for and even tending to service industry positions here in town, all while dropping 80 pounds (~$150) a week to share a room with six. Remarkably, this is still cheaper than most flats. Though, I can only imagine, terrible after six months!
I have decided(90%) that I will take leave of London town come Monday, when my tenure at the lovely AstorVictoria expires. To Paris, for a short visit of a friend, then south.....Morocco calls.... For now, the chitterchat and drunkenmunch of rich American sorority broads has derailed my train. We are becoming a world of tacky tourists...