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In case you hadn't heard (and it's quite possible, seeing as how it's been avoided by almost all North American media), there is a demonstration going on in Wall Street. There have been mass arrests and police brutality. The police brutality is endemic.
Sep. 27th, 2011
The British Invasion: Part V - Plymouth
Sep. 27th, 2011 05:23 pmWe'd been so exhausted the day before, so when I woke up actually feeling rested, I knew something was wrong.
"Uh, Shan?" said![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
knightky from the bathroom.
"Yeah?"
"It's 8:30."
Our wake-up call was supposed to have been for 6:30.
"Oh shit! I guess no harbour cruise for us."
I was disappointed. I'd been looking forward to going out on a boat. I hadn't been on one in years.
Then the phone rang. It was Steve, the tour director, wondering where we were. Kyle explained we hadn't gotten our wake-up call, and I rushed to throw on my clothes which I'd had the forethought to lay out the night before. We hauled ass and got down to the bus 15 minutes after it was supposed to have left.
No breakfast for us, save for one buttered scone which I hadn't eaten from the Tintagel trip the day before. I split this meagre repast with Kyle. My guts were in foul form, this morning, from the fried food and legumes of the preceding few days. I had to move with extreme caution, lest there be an unfortunate explosion.
When we got on the bus, everyone began clapping. I felt bad for having made them wait. I am a punctual person, and hate to make anyone wait for me. Fortunately, no one seemed upset, and we set off to the Mayflower Steps in Plymouth's port. Although this particular location holds great historical significance in terms of the pilgrims going to America, it held little interest to me. It was just a couple of stone steps leading down to the water. I didn't even bother taking a photo, because it didn't strike me as being particularly photogenic.
I was far more interested in the statuary of the area, like the memorial to Sir Francis Drake. Unfortunately, I wasn't able to get a photo of the statue on Plymouth Hoe. ( This is a view of the harbour from the Mayflower Steps, though. )
"Uh, Shan?" said
knightky from the bathroom."Yeah?"
"It's 8:30."
Our wake-up call was supposed to have been for 6:30.
"Oh shit! I guess no harbour cruise for us."
I was disappointed. I'd been looking forward to going out on a boat. I hadn't been on one in years.
Then the phone rang. It was Steve, the tour director, wondering where we were. Kyle explained we hadn't gotten our wake-up call, and I rushed to throw on my clothes which I'd had the forethought to lay out the night before. We hauled ass and got down to the bus 15 minutes after it was supposed to have left.
No breakfast for us, save for one buttered scone which I hadn't eaten from the Tintagel trip the day before. I split this meagre repast with Kyle. My guts were in foul form, this morning, from the fried food and legumes of the preceding few days. I had to move with extreme caution, lest there be an unfortunate explosion.
When we got on the bus, everyone began clapping. I felt bad for having made them wait. I am a punctual person, and hate to make anyone wait for me. Fortunately, no one seemed upset, and we set off to the Mayflower Steps in Plymouth's port. Although this particular location holds great historical significance in terms of the pilgrims going to America, it held little interest to me. It was just a couple of stone steps leading down to the water. I didn't even bother taking a photo, because it didn't strike me as being particularly photogenic.
I was far more interested in the statuary of the area, like the memorial to Sir Francis Drake. Unfortunately, I wasn't able to get a photo of the statue on Plymouth Hoe. ( This is a view of the harbour from the Mayflower Steps, though. )