We were up and at it this morning. The hostel provided a free breakfast with some toast and cereals. We bought Tube tickets and set out for sightseeing. We first headed to Buckingham Palace. The square was surprisingly very open and quiet, making me think Sunday is a quiet day for most Londoners. I wore my red Northface windbreaker and black beanie, so we had a laugh about how similar I looked to the Royal Guard. We strolled through Hyde Park and made a quick pit stop for coffee in the most glamorous McDonald's we had ever seen (we justified getting McDonald's with this reasoning). Next stop was Camden Market. Lots of vendors selling trashy, yet classic tourist items for dirt cheap. It was crowded and fun walking through the market. At the very end, we came to the food vendors. Seeing any trends? The vendors were all about free samples. Harrison and Kevin--think Costco on Sunday, times 10. I nearly filled up on samples before my lunch. I tried Indian falafel, Peruvian chickpeas, churros of questionable nationality, mulled wine, Spanish paella, and more (my attempt to "linger" around the crepe stand for a sample was unfruitful). I settled on nearly the same lunch I had yesterday: Falafel, chickpeas, couscous and carrot salad, topped with yogurt sauce for 3 pounds. Done and done. I could barely eat, though, because my hands were so cold. The coldest I have felt since studying abroad was at Camden that afternoon. I bought a tiny cup of tea for a whopping 2 pounds in my desperation. We had planned a special trip for the afternoon: a stop at the largest Whole Foods in the world. We thought it would be fun to hit up the salad bar and take the salads on our five hour train to Edinburgh that afternoon. Wow. Upon stepping into the store, Maggie pulled out her camera to take a photo. The camera was immediately swatted down by a security agent at the front door. A no photos policy at a grocery store? Only Whole Foods. The store was so huge I lost Kelsey and Maggie for about 30 minutes. After trying a few samples and making a delicious, gargantuan salad topped with incredible tomato-stewed tofu, we headed to Kings Cross to get our (expensive but scenic) train to Edinburgh. Platform 9 and three quarters was packed with happy-go-lucky Potter fans, reminding me of lines to see Santa at the mall. The line to get a picture was too long, but it was neat to see in person. We were psyched to have a table on the train and were lucky to be seated with a woman from Northern England named Mandy. She reminded me of the "fun mom" that we all knew from one of our high school friends--bubbly, talkative, and holding on to more youth than age. We had a great time talking back and forth about cultural differences, school policies, travel plans, raising children, and Edinburgh. She warned us that Scottish men wearing kilts typically don't wear any--cough, cough--underwear. Five hours and a Whole Foods salad later, we arrived in Edinburgh (pronounced like Ed-in-boro). Why on earth was I expecting a quaint, quiet town lined with cottages? I thought I would be honing Kate Winslett in The Holiday. It was a modern town, lined with modern shops, but all overlooked by a huge, Medieval looking castle on a cliff. We checked into our hostel--a huge, multistory building fusing Mellow Mushroom-decor with frat house-style halls. Zonked out.
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