Alo Luv

On take off, I'm listening to Led Zepplin - Continental's music selection, from the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame channel - and reading People Magazine. I look over at her, curious as to what she's burried into. Political Writings of Mahatma Ghandi. I really need to get serious reading back into my life.

The sunlight moves in a pattern of squares across the length cabin through the open shades, and we are on our way.

We arrive and are surprised if not outright shocked that there is no line at all in Immigration. At all. When we get our bags from the carousel, there are all of about 30 people in baggage claim. The entire baggage claim. And customs? Nobody. And by nobody, I mean there were no customs agents. Fine then. Note that this is the best time of year to travel to London.

My young traveling companion is stricken with a horrific case of jet lag so we unload our bags at the hotel, set out for some lunch at All Bar One where the vegitarion choices revive her a bit. Even though it's just below freezing out, we stroll the length of Marylebone High Street, going in and out of the shops and admiring all the goods that we'd snatch up for ourselves if the dollar to pound rate weren't so unfavorable on our end. After an hour we return to our hotel for a much-needed nap.

The big news? Tonight is the last night for last call. Liquor licenses are going long license now. Translation: Pubs and clubs can pull 24-hour licenses. No more last call at 11:00 and fast-footing it to the last trains and tubes. The government believes this will curb binge drinking. Sixty-seven percent of the polled public believe this will promote anti-social behavior. As the tubes and trains are not adjusting their schedules, I think the people might be right. For now at least, I have no plans in finding out.