Trip To London

The Problem's Trip To London - Part 3

The next morning

G etting out of bed on time proved to be impossible. After completing that backbreaking exercise it was 11.30 which meant no more breakfast. Luckily for us one of the kitchen staff helped us to a take out continental one. With orangejuice and croissants. Solution took the orangejuice and...WOW! A deja-vu! It exploded in his hands. The whole floor was a mess and the hotel staff drowned. There was some more in the kitchen and because there was no more hotelstaff to worry about, we went in and took it. We ate it on top of a small hill in Londen Park (About 20mē) overlooking Elephant&Castle. Lots of girls went into the tunnel where we got robbed the previous night... eeuh I mean that morning. They never came up at the other side. After eating several croissants with butter, jam and plastic... eeuh... cheese and drinking our orangejuice (no this time it didn't explode although Infinity later got wind from it!) we went to see where all those girls had gone.

With fear in our hearts we went into the subway again. The dark place of yesterday evening was still dark. Except that now several bums had found a place to crash there. We never saw the girls again. Perhaps some sewage monster took them. The floor was wet and dirty enough... A ripped T-shirt somewhere in a corner added to the evidence.

"Hello? Police? I want to report a sewage monster!!!"
"Aaaah, haha, a eeeeum... sewage monster? haha. Tell us about it!"
"We found this ripped girl in the subway and the T-Shirts never came up!"
"T-Shirt? Oh yes! Ofcourse... Go on!"
"The tunnel was wet and..."
"Yes...Most tunnels are...Listen. We'll do everything we can OK? You just sit tight OK? hahaha..."

Our trust in the english police had been smashed! The fools simply denied the evidence we gave them! After being framed, robbed and attacked by orange-juice we had expected another reaction from the London police.

Covent Garden

Street in London...

Well anyway, this day was to be shopping day. Where else to go to for shopping then Covent Garden? We had set our hearts on going to Fat Cat Records, so we did.

The Covent Garden area is very nice indeed. Lots of trees, shops, places to eat and ofcourse the strangest people: Tourists, Englishmen, Members of The Problem, etc. etc. There is only one problem with Covent Garden. It's big! (OK, OK, especially when you are use to small towns with no more than 18.000 inhabitants...)

Just when we got tired of walking...there it was: 19 Earlham Street, Fat Cat Records. Under a clothing store, just as we were told, only that our information said 13 Monmouth Street. Only because we just happend to cross Earlham Street and looked down in to it we had found it. We left after Solution had bought several records.

Lunchtime!!!

Our feet were starting to kill us when we came across this little shop. They sold delicious-looking sandwiches and most important of all: Coca-Cola. While eating our way through a large baquette-type sandwich on the terrace, we were joined by an english bloke. He had a wedding-ring on his finger...

"Hey! Nice day!" said the man, who was dressed in a neat suit.
"Sure is..." we replied.
"Here on a holiday?" he asked, while he opened his attache-case.
"Sure are..."
"Wow! Look at that one!", barely able to stop himself from yelling. "What one? What are you talking about?"
"Here's another one! Gorgeous!"

Something unmistakeably female with legs that went all the way up passed our table.

"And look overthere!!!! Auauauauauw MAMA!!!"

Some more very nice females passed.

"Yes... you're right! Beautiful..." we dazed.
"Oooooh! And that one... pffffff!"
"Hey... Aren't you married?" said Infinity.
"Well... that's... you know... LOOOOOOK! THERE!!! I wish..."
"That your wife was as goodlooking as she?"

YANK! did the englishman.
SMASH!!! did Infinity's head.
Alco's head turned red again... Steam came out of his ears. He reached for his knife... and...


 ***  Dear  readers.   At  this  point we'll have to skip part of the story, 
 because   this  is  the  pointed  were  The  Problem  got  into  a  vicious 
 streetfight,  later  to  be know as The Covent Garden Massacre.  The origin 
 was said to be "Cultural Differences"...  *** 

 Anyway,  all  this is on a NEED TO KNOW BASIS.  All you have to know is the 
 the  food  was  good,  and  so were the girls, who thought we were fighting 
 about THEM!  The rest... well... YOU NEED NOT TO KNOW...

The Real Covent Garden

Mending our wounded we went back to the subway-station we started out from. This road lead us to the real "covent garden. Suddenly we got held up by someone holding out a magazine. Solution took it and walked on.

"Hey! You'll have to pay for that!"
"Huh? What? No way!"
"Waaaay!"
"Oh. Alright!"
"Hey! Where are you from?"
"Holland."
"Oh! I know Holland! Know Amsterdam, know Rotterdam, know The Hague?"
"Jesus Christ! A deja-vu! Get away!"
"I know one dutch word... Godverdomme!" (Which means goddamnit in dutch! -WEd.)
"Damn you!"

We politely paid the person, who turned out to be homeless. The magazine was one made and sold by homeless people to raise money.

Like many more places in London Covent Garden was "infested" by girls. As if all the pretty girls in the world had decided to come to London on this day, just to please us. In a sudden reflex we started looking for the redhead, but we couldn't find her. Damn! No redhead. Nice blonde danes, brunettes from belgium, black-haired girls from france, but no german redhead. Well... she was too... well, too... just... well you know... just TOO! anyway.

Soho

The next stop was Soho. We just had to take revenge for the night before, so this time we went straight for our goal: Black Market Records. Finding it wasn't very difficult, since we could hear it four blocks away! Opening the door, we clasped our ears. The sound was deafening. "Helga! The cheese!". It took us about half an hour for us to get used to it.

[TextClip]

Solution waited for the guy to turn around to get the record from the rack. And he looked at Solution as if he was expecting him to say something.

"Well?" he asked.
"Huh?"
"Record!"
"What?"
"Azuli!"
"Yeah! Great stuff!"
"Oooh! Sod off!"

In the mean time AlcoRhythm had made a interesting discovery: there was also a basement, flowing over with Jungle Riddims. With the beats slamming past our ears, we looked around. This had to be the only recordshop in the world where the female customers almost outnumbered the male ones. Jungle attracts girls. Perhaps it has to do with their primitive urge to...what ever.

The music was excellent, the only problem was that you couldn't listen to a record by yourself. You had to ask the (quite good) DJ to play you one you wanted to hear. No problem since the sound was better this way any way.

Solution bought one. Now Infinity had discovered something. He lead the rest of us into a small room which was filled to the brim with flyers. Hundreds of 'em! Our bags heavy from those little paper folders we left...

More movies

We couldn't resist another ride in the Emaginator. The thing had already slurped up most of our money, and now it was out of the rest. It didn't know ofcourse that we had been robbed and had only enough money for two rides. Well, we had to think of SOME excuse to leave, otherwise we would have been up to our ears in debts by the time we went home. Besides, we had already booked tickets for Congo. Too bad this movie was a big flop, because it's quite good. Before the movie started there were the usual commercials. One of them stood out in particulair...

"Coming soon to a theater near you, a true story of self sacrifice in a world of darkness. About people for whom life is a problem every day. A timeless drama... The collectors!"

On the screen a shady bunch of people moved forward toward the camera. We were expecting some super suspense or horror movie:

"The most frightening part is... it could happen to you! Any day, any time. Black, white, old and young. Nobody is safe from the worst... total blindness!"

Wow! This must really be a blockbuster!

"So, give to the collectors!"

The shady bunch of people could now clearly been defined as holding a collecting-box. Aaaargh! Give or perish! Run away!

"Coming soon to a cinema near you. Don't forget...you could be next!"

The lights went on and a couple of shady persons entered the theater. We were terrified! Then it struck us: It was a collection for the blind. Your money would give them more support. We gave all our change when the woman from the National Fund for the Blind (or something) came to our seat.

When the movie was over, we checked our watches. Damn! Less then 45 minutes!!!

We rushed back to the Hotel to get our luggage. We didn't even have time to complain about the bad service and the terrible rooms.

Back into the subway. Perhaps the girls that were destined to be the love of our lives were in that subway-station, but we didn't even have the time to look around, so we didn't see 'm anyway.

At the station, we were again surprised by a big rumble from AlcoRhythms tummy. Again we hadn't had anything to eat for hours.

Bombscare at Liverpool Station! "There! A McDonalds!"

We rushed inside.

"Three Big Mac menus, please!"
"That guy was first sir... Please wait!"
"GRRRR!"

(Wait, Wait)

"Now, give me the damn burgers!"

Finally we got them and left to board the train. Halfway across the platform AlcoRhythm panicked! He had forgetten his rucksack at McDonalds! Jesus! We were going to miss the train! Aaaargh!

When Alco re-entered the Mac, several uniformed police-officers stood in the middle of the establishment, hold people back and sealing off the area. In the middle of this area stood Alcos familair red bag.

"You can't go there sir, there is a bomb-scare!"
"But my bag is in there!"
"Your bag sir? What does it look like?"
"Well it's red and..."
"Hands up! Face the wall! Terry! I've got one of them!"

An older, balding police officer appeared.

"Aaah! Ok you dirty Irish scum! What's your story?"
"I just want my bag!"
"Yeah right! And blow us all up in the process eh?"
"No....I...My friends are waiting for me and..."
"I have had enough of your kind! Your not going to talk unless...Friends? Where...Bob, Gary...Get them!"

Before they could utter another word Solution and Infinity were snapped up by the police, Burgers, Cokes, Fries and everything. Those policemen must have been very hungry!

"Talk!"
"What about?"
"I had enough!"

He was getting ready to hit AlcoRhythm in the face.

"Wait Terry! It's not a bomb! There's nothing special in the bag but some dirty underwear..."
"Yuk! ....Sorry guys!"

And they went away, leaving us behind, completely baffled. When we regained our ability to reason we all agreed that next time we would really put a bomb in the bag, and then when won't come back for it. We could already see the headlines:

"Red rucksack wipes out McDonalds!"

"Police baffled! The problem might continue!"

We would finally have our revenge on the London Police then. For the sewage monsters, the massacres, etc. etc.

In the nick of time we caught our train.

Inside we had to sit in the smoking department...It seems that the smoking department on the train is the only public place in England where you are allowed to smoke and so everybody did, except us. Our eyes stung like hell when we ate our burgers, which because of the smoke tasted like shit.

The way back was a hot and sweaty affair that seemed to last for ever!

On board again

Boat (Probably) Finally it was time to show our passports again. Never before were we so happy to show someone our passport. Hey! There was the that little guy next to the customs boot who wears green spectacles, whom we didn't mind in chapter 3!

"Hi! Wanna see our passport?"
"No!"
"Why not? That's what you are paid for isn't?"
"Don't come that tone with me mister!" he said, moving his green spectacles to the tip of his nose.
"You had your chance last time but then you didn't mind me! You can forget about that passport check now! Hah!"

Damn! You rush your ass off to get into a sweaty train on time, endure ticket-checkers, other people's nagging children having their daipers changed on the seat next to you, get suffocated by cigar-smoking people that try to look like businessmen but aren't and worst of all the biting sensation that you've been to London but haven't seen jack shit because you had to little time. And finally, after all that, this stupid customs-guy refuses to look at your passport and just waves you through! What's the world coming to?!?

We walked on shouting "Next time we'll smuggle some drugs!!!" and took our place sitting on the back balcony of the ship. As usual we made a lot of noise.

"Those irritating people, I'm getting out of here!"

After sometime of walking back and forth over the ship, we stranded in a disco, where a group of 5 people were tricking a whole audience into thinking that there were in fact 20 of them. Each time someone came on he would wear a different costume. Sailors, old ladies, varietygirls, french-fishermen, Gregorian teenagers and bi-sexual crossdressers were all part of the show, which consisted of a lot of Cindy-Lauper-with-a-mouthful-of-gravel-type singing and step-left-step-right-type dancing.

After spending almost all our last money on some drinks we decided that other parts of the ship were more interesting. For example the big disco on the other deck. We did some dancing, but basically it turned out to be one of these 25 men coming on to 4 women affairs, which is very annoying when you're just there to dance.

"Hey! Could you give me some space to dance aswell?" "What? Are you gay or something? I'm trying to get that girl, so keep out of my way!" "We're NOT gay!" cried AlcoRhythm. "Easy Alco, don't do anything I wouldn't do!" said Solution. "I won't!" and SLAM! down went the guy. Solution nodded.

The Bryan Adams hour had started again. Run for your lives!

In the end we came back to the balcony again. Suddenly, out of nowhere appeared a new weirdo. This one was also drunk, not stoned. On top of that, he was american! Clearly a case of not being able to handle european beer...

We questioned him. Was he rich/famous/gay? What did he want in Europe? How long was he planning to stay? Did he carry any infectuous diseases? Did any member of his family ever show any signs of being black/red/yellow/purple/royal?

Have a nice day mister.

According to him, Clinton had been stoned throughout his time at university and fiercefully defended the god-given right to own a gun. How much more American can you get? "Helga!!!"

He showed us a picture of his girlfriend...Why the #$&* did he leave the US?!? He must be insane aswell!

"I'm not insane! You can't say that to me!"
"Why not?"
"I'm an AMERICAN citizen! I'll show you! Here's my passport! Huh? Where's my passport?"
"I think the guy with that little guy next to the customs boot who wears green spectacles, and whom you probably didn't mind either has it."
"Hey! He can't do that to me!"
"Why not?"
"I'm an AMERICAN citizen! I'll show you! Here's"
"You're insane!"
"I'm not insane! You can't..."

Finally he left to find his dutch friend with whom he had come.

It was getting chilly so went inside aswell. The disco was almost empty now and we wanted a place to crash, so why not repeat last time?

The English

AlcoRhythm and Infinity went off to find a place to sleep in the disco, while Solution struck up a chat with some englishmen on a couch. They weren't all 100% operational or let alone clear expect for one.

"Yeah! To Amsterdam, for the drugs you know!"
"Can't you get them in England?"
"Yes, but they are shit!"
"Mmmmm, you look like you already had some..."
"Well, you see, at first we were afraid to go through customs with them, so we sniffed up all our cocaine half an hour ago."
"Cocaine?!?!?" they were really strange!
"Yes, well, now that I think of it, it was quite stupid..."
"Yeah! You can say that again! Cocaine...That's really bad for..." "You see, they wouldn't check you!"
"Who?"
"The customs officials man! Why would you check anyone taking drugs INTO Amsterdam? That would be silly!"
"Especially when you have that little guy next to the customs boot who wears green spectacles and..."
"Never heard of him! I probably didn't mind him."
"He even refused to look at our passports!"
"What's the world coming to?"

Suddenly, out of nowhere the new weirdo appeared again. This seems to be a nasty habit of weirdoes: THEY KEEP COMING BACK OVER AND OVER AGAIN!!! Solution introduced him to the english and he said he was thirsty and asked wether that bottle of champagne in the copper pot still contained liquid. It didn't. The english had finished it hours ago and had used the pot, which was filled with ice, as an ashtray and spittoon. The ice ofcourse had almost completely melted, leaving a lot a water

The american took the pot with bottle and all and drank it. We were abhorred!

Solution went to find AlcoRhythm and Infinity turned out to be lying on a couch around the corner at the far end of the disco.

Hanging out around ship

No time for sleeping anymore really, since it was already 7.00 and time for breakfast. We did not know that yet, but a threatening looking bloke with one of those fake police-look-a-like-uniform threw us out because the place had to be cleaned. Those cleaning people would probably go on strike for extra money after just seeing the mess there!

Coffee!!! Rubbery dougnuts!!! Yippee!

Just before going disembarking Solution had a terrible fit of London-sickness. He missed in too much already. His nose agreed and started flooding blood. It was unstopable! Just when the bathroom ran out of clean paper and the sinks were clogged with blood, it stopped. The next guy walking into the bathroom fainted and as we left the ship we heard faint shouts of "MURDER! MURDER!". We didn't mind them.

More trains

Yet another train. This one filled to the brim with foreigners going to Amsterdam, Rotterdam, The Hague etc.

In the seat next to us across the passage was an typical english family. Father was studying a humongous book that seemed to contain every train/boat/flight-schedule in existance, trying to find their way to The Hague. The mother was did her best to entertain the children.

"What do you want to do in Holland?"
"Let's smoke some pot!" said one of them.
"???"
"Well, we ARE in Holland!"

Well, we ARE in Holland!

What's the world coming to?

Solution was to meet the owner of a recordshop in Rotterdam, but we were there so early that we had to wait for 4 hours. No problem, we thought: Rotterdam is a big city, surely there is SOMETHING to do? Nope. There isn't. That were probably the most boring 4 hours of our entire lives!!!

Perhaps we had been spoiled on this point by visiting London, who knows, but we were only too happy to board the train again, this time heading for home...


The End
Trip To London was written by Tao of The Problem.
HTML file created by AlcoRhythm. ©CopyRight 1998 by The Problem