O London – the nexus of art, commerce and Mark Knopfler visits in the United Kingdom.
I was there in March with my friend Pete, who used to be a resident, so here’s an all-encompassing guide:
There is a special place in Hull for those that deliberately snub the national pastime. Don’t snub the pubs, make love in these pubs.
Since Peter and I needed little convincing to be strong contributors to the national pastime, we took our talents far and wide. Here is the pub where we argued the least:
As someone that has called America home base for most of their existence, I’ve thrived in a society selling me to spend. I’m too well-trained on the impulse. Take that sledgehammer to my financial knees and surrender those savings to the gods of commerce.
They tell you to connect with new lands on the spiritual level, rather than the commercial. But I am here to learn about how your culture consumes:
What goods become the greatest good?
What firms can create the strongest anxiety only relievable by purchase?
How quickly can your culture shun simplicity for the fullness of material comforts?
Can purchasing power boost one’s own self-confidence?
May the common man fall prey to the idea that everything in life is easily disposable and replaceable?
Do you, in fact, devour?
London and New York City are eerily similar, as in they have a bunch of concrete streets, crowds and boarding school products. One can only sip that cup of tea so many times. So head over to Hyde Park, along with eight million other bloaks that had the same idea! There is no place like paralleled frustration to your burdens back home.
After a long night of drinking at pubs, and an even longer night of standing in the corner unnoticed at West End nightclubs, head straight to the historical landmark to interact with your hungover spirit animals. This guy gets it!
When traveling with an insomniac, you might as well kick structure and logic out the door. Wrong turns, glossolalia and frequent hallucinations will cause your party to head down alleys that would give Jack the Ripper the howling fantods. Fight chaos with the London Underground, a world-renowned public transit system.
Have your party share headphones and play this song.
Stare at the building and think about colonial exploitation.
I’ll tell you what, London is exhausting. You’ll lose the plot if you don’t find some peace and quiet.
“Ya Pete….Chinatown sounds reclusive.”
Similar to the First Opium War, this area emphasizes free trade and influences the masses by attacking neurotransmitters. Chinatowns get it right in every culture, language, continent, etc. Once Elon Musk figures out Hyperloop One I assume the future of tourism and bachelor parties will revolve around Chinatown crawls. Why not? That roasted duck, fam. But I guess in this instance one would say I had the Spring rolls. Lol.
The Grenadier is tucked away in Belgravia, a high-end neighborhood serving healthy portions of eliticsm. But lower-ranking officers once broke biscuits at the reformed mess hall so don’t be threatened by the icy glares of the 1%. Haunted by its origin of inter-unit beatings, this gem is perfect for a relaxing evening of Brexit analysis. Sip on a cask ale and absorb bold claims of a blockchain bubble existing while admiring the historic pub’s pleasing aesthetics. Make sure to secure a table in the back room so members of your party can dissect how the arms trade is a major cause of human rights abuse. Don’t forget to cheers to the unwelcome debate on counter-terrorism policies in Egypt. Order another round of pints as the dialogue shifts to socioeconomic ramifications of genetically engineered food. Save room for dessert when heated opinions on the trickle down effects of the new immigration ban are served. The Grenadier truly is a destination to celebrate good times with good friends.
I recommend the fish and chips.
If there is one takeaway from the U.K. culinary scene, it is their devotion to the wide range of bland-brown-toned nutrition: Fried fish. The original Chips. Shepherd’s pie. Steak pie. Traditional Pie. Highly accessible gravy. Eccle cakes. Pudding. Scones. Cullen skink. A wide range of sausage preparation. Bubble and squeak. Beans. Liver, lungs and heart. Heaps of coffee and tea. Potatoes are everywhere.
Regardless if your previous ten meals were a combination of the aforementioned items, it is necessary to celebrate those expanding tastebuds with what the British dub ‘Sunday roast’. Roast the meat and potatoes, accidentally dribble some greens on the side, and take the offensive against portions better designed for a small Irish family of seven.
Iconic sight in London.