Two days done

Well, I've now completed the bulk of my work week, I just have two hours of lecture/seminar on Friday. I've also bought my first book for my degree. It turns out there are some differences in the way British schools work in comparison to our North American equivalents. Where North American schools will tell you to by a text book or course package, the Brits will just give you a huge reading list none of which you actually have to buy and most of which you probably won't have to read and that your prof hasn't necessarily read. It's interesting, supposedly if British students were forced to buy a book of any type they would riot in the streets and it wouldn't be a good time for anyone. Maybe I'm just lazy and don't want to spend my life in the library but I would pay the extra money just to have the required material at home to read.

I have a feeling that I look very British, I don't know why but for some reason people seem to like to ask me for directions. In most cases these people have probably been in the country longer than I have but they still insist on asking me. I'm starting to think that even in a line-up of brits that I would still be singled out as someone that should be asked for directions. Strange I think but I don't know how to test this theory without a line up and more funds than I have.

I think I may have found my drinking hole. It's a small pub just down the Strand from the school, very quaint, and by London standards very cheap(cheap is key). I came across this place on the advice of a lecturer, who during the lecture seem to mention it far more than was needed(probably alluding to a place he'd preferably be). After I had bought the book and had walked my company back to the school I decided that I'd take a look. I eventually found the place and went in to take a look. My curiosity got the best of me, and I decided to find out how much a pint was, unfortunately the only way to find out the price of a pint happens to be, at least in my books, by buying one. So I got my pint, which was as advertised quite reasonable, cracked open my book(tome is more accurate) and read a chapter to the sound of beer.

It was a fairly productive day on a whole. This a picture of a statue of George III which stands at the end or in our case at the beginning or the walk to Windsor Castle. The statue is a rip off of a roman one of Marcus Aurelius(I'm sure I just massacred that name but I'm pretty sure I'm not going to find the proper spelling... Alright, I lied and found it but I'm not going to fun spell check... damn it!).