London oh London what have I done! What causes me to chunder out my bum? Was it lack of sleep and water or crap food on the plane? Regardless of the answer, my poetry is still lame.

I never get crook at home but as soon as I fly into London Town, I get tap ass that could disconnect a hose from the source. It meant that I didn’t see ANY of the touristy things. I wasn’t too bothered though because I had seen them before.

My last minute booked accommodation was through a website called AirBNB. I had heard of this service before but never used it. AirBNB is similar to couch surfing. You go online, find an apartment that the person who owns or rents it has listed, and you book it. The owner has the power to approve or disapprove of each booking. I booked a place in Vauxhall in London when I was back in Sydney and had everything in my body crossed, hoping that it was legit.

Still having doubts even when I was outside the apartment block, disbelieving at how trusting somebody was that I hadn’t met, I spoke to the concierge of the building.

Unfortunately for you, everything went perfectly and you have no misfortune to laugh at. This time, I was the one who was laughing.

My time in London was spent catching up with old travel companions and running into friends from the Beaches at a Street Food market in Shore Ditch. Eight hours sleep in fifty-seven hours was a massive shortfall of anything close to smart, but at least I had a fun time.

Monday morning, feeling a heap better, I met Mark outside Vauxhall Tube station and we killed some time at Oxford Circus. A cheers with a pint to kick off our trip, we quickly realised we were killing time we didn’t think we had. Legging it toward Victoria Station, we jumped on board the train to Gatwick Airport. Luck was once again on the same team and we made our flight to Amsterdam with plenty of time to spare.

Welcome to the stories of the Suitcasing Scallywags!