So, our first day of real class, not counting the introduction to history we had Friday and it went reasonably uneventfully. A few people fell asleep, not used to having to wake up at 8 in the morning. We broke for lunch and then reassembled for our excursion to the British Library. Quite interesting in theory, it was suggested to us to become readers at the British Library but when we got there found out that we needed bibliographies of what we wanted to use and our passports. We were denied amazing old books but there were public sections to the Library, which we partook in. The main public room was sort of a greatest hits of what the British Library had. They had letters and books written by Jane Austen, Elizabeth, Edward, and Mary Tudor, Blake’s journal where he started jotting down verses to Tiger, Tiger, Burning Bright, things by the Beatles, the Magna Carta and so many other things. Then we went to the back, into a lonely building not actually connected to the rest of the Library, which was the center for conservation. They had some hands on activities and a couple of chairs where you could sit, put on headphones, and listen to recordings of Florence Nightingale, Thomas Edison, Albert Einstein, and Alfred Lord Tennyson speaking among others. Everyone found someone different to listen to wide-eyed. After milling around out there, we decided to sit outside in this little courtyard where we were soon joined by various members of our seminar group. Someone, I think it was Cheryl, suggested going to this Caribbean street festival thing down in Notting Hill. With nothing else to do and a desire to expand from just the four-person clique we had developed, we joined in. It didn’t take that long to discover we had the wrong day for the festival, there was a curious lack of people. We decided instead to walk around a bit and look for someplace to eat. I kind of want to go back at some point just to look through all the shops they have. There are so many different shops closing down and new ones taking up the empty space all over London so there are constantly “Going out of Business” and “75% off sales”. Plus after the near-fatal death of my green bag, I kind of need a new bag. We found a pub, whose name escapes me and settled down in the beer garden to look and menus. Basically, the way a pub works is, you come in, sit wherever you feel like, look at a menu and when you decide, you walk up to the bar, order, pay and wait for them to bring you food. We had to split into two tables and upon noticing that they served Tikka Masala, was completely sold. I confused the Bartender by ordering a screwdriver. I ordered it, he turned to go make it, then turned back with a big “a What?” the older guys at the bar thought that was very funny. The food was good and some of our company ordered desert including an apple pie for Alice and spotted dick for Andrew. After we were done, all walked back to the tube and rode home to sleep eventually.