orange lava

The journey back to London was exceptionally good. I got *two* coronation chicken sandwiches, we landed early, and not only was there no line at customs, but the customs officer was SO friendly. One by one the birthrighters parted ways on the Piccadilly line tube. Christy to Neil’s, Valerie to Dublin, and me to Jean-Marc’s.

I followed Jean-Marc’s mysterious instructions and met him at Holborne station. I was then whisked away to a Polish vodka bar, where three other ladies were awaiting us. It was kind of a momentous evening, as I was in the process of acquiring the title of JMK’s First Fourth Time Couchsurfer. An honour which I now hold with pride.

JMK was appalled that I had never seen Team America, so immediately upon our return to his flat (that wonderful place), into the DVD player it went.

Patricia, a fellow CSer (hailing from Canada), and I were on our own the next day. As usual, JMK was off to some other land. My friend Tom (whom I met while Wwoofing last year) cycled to London to visit. We set off for a walk, and found ourselves several hours later far from East Putney. Soon thereafter we met up with a friend of his and hung out in a park, enjoying ‘the very last bit of summer’, as I was informed. Eh. My two week return to Florida will be concentrated enough summer to last all year. Anyways…Patricia, Tom, and I made dinner and chilled at home.

Both of them left the following morning, so I had all of London to myself. I contemplated visiting Wapping again, but felt too content in Putney to leave. Instead I bought a case of Crabbie’s and a box of Putney Squares (formerly known as caramel shortbread). And then I watched Up. Life was lovely.

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