Jetlag? I think it is a myth...

Oh England, land of the lost adjectives...

Abstract: We toured part of London. I ran. Ricky Gervias lives near by. Jetlag is a silent napper.

Hey everyone.

London is fun. There are lots of people and lots of things to do. This may sound a little understated, but man, when you are looking at a map, it is difficult to decide what to do.

We woke up this morning at a reasonable hour, thinking that the worst of the jetlag was over. Anna had graciously given us some melatonin to help with our sleep, and help it did. After a deep and restful sleep, Anna took me out on a beautiful scenic run through a huge local park while Sonja explored the local village on her run, hoping to catch a glimpse of Sir Paul or Ricky Gervais, both of whom live in the same neighbourhood as Anna.

Upon completion of the run, (51:31, good post-travel run) and some breakfast, Sonja and I set off to explore London, or at least part of it. We decided to emerge from the tube at Picadilly Circus, taking in a London landmark with our first breath. It is a bustling intersection of advertising, tourists, and some locals.

Dude, you're in my picture!

From there we visited Her Majesty's Palace and then made our way past Westminster Abbey and to the National Gallery after buying sandwiches from a little Italian man who told us to say hi to George Bush. Sonja mentioned that we were Canadian and then punched him in the nose.

It was in the National Gallery (which, like most museums and galleries in London, was free!), admist the amazing works of Picasso, Monet, Manet, Rembrandt and Michaelangelo that I started to feel, well, asleep. It became difficult to walk and to focus, and my legs started to give out. I sat at every chance, and Sonja to her credit, was patient with me. We decided to head back to Anna's before we both ended up sleeping on the street.

We arrived home, and laid down for a moment. Three hours later, I got up. Sonja has yet to rise and I think she will make it through the night.

So it is here, watching the Triplets of Belleville, after having missed the Tour de France in London by hours yesterday, that I sip probably the best red wine I have ever had, and finish this post. Iceland is starting to loom. We have to order a cab for Wednesday morning to get us to Gatwick and then to the Blue Lagoon!

Tomorrow includes a run with Anna's running club and an authentic London pub night. Maybe I'll have a Guinness for Jim.