A Walk In The Park

Dearest Followers of the My Cult:

Today I went to London's largest park, which is approximately the size of India. It is known for its deer herds, whose brains are evidentially not melting like Wisconsin's. But instead of deer, this park happens to be the largest dog park in the universe (Meghan and Rose take note). Every Brit this side of St. Louis seems to have a baker's dozen of anklebiters, and Richmond Park is where they come to party and subsequently scare away deer, who probably pellet their pants at the sight of all the dogs. Much like their owners, British Dogs don't seem to notice anyone they pass on the street. It is kind of eerie.

However, this might simply be because of the very rigid London Social Hierarchy. I am still working out the kinks, but I think it goes something like this:

1. The Queen
2. Double Decker Buses
3. Single Decker Buses
4. Cars
5. Horses/Horseback Riders (unable to differentiate)
6. Bicyclers
7. Dogs
8. Dog Walkers
9. Pedestrians

And how it seems to work is that anyone has full permission to yell obscenities at, ignore, or scoff at the folks below them on the hierarchy. I'm sure this list will be augmented as I get to know London more and/or see a person on a segway, which will most certainly be below Pedestrians.

Which reminds me: Yesterday on the bus, I heard some kids who couldn't have been more than 13 talking about how silly it was that the Queen had any power (I even heard one kid say, and I'm not making this up, "We should have a real republic, like they do in America." He later on followed up this astute political commentary by telling his friend, "That shirt makes your boobs look bigger.")

And we're back. The park walk was also excellent because I got to follow this neat little pocket guide of London Walks that Regina got for me (Thanks!). I came across a pub along the River Thames (NOT the "Thames River," you bloke) that gets its front doors blocked every day during high tide. So once you're in, you're in for the long haul. Excellent marketing strategy, eh?

Then I was back in the park along a trail called "Melancholy Path" which was not very melancholy at all, except for the fact that the sun hasn't come out since I've been here. At the end of my four-odd hour walk, I finally saw some rather mangy looking deer (In England, they actually say "Deers," but I have standards), hidden away from the dogs in the middle of a Polo field (At press time, I still have no clue what "Polo" is, but it sounds rich). This adventure certainly won't be my last time at Richmond park, considering it is about three blocks from my campus, and that I miss Royal and Raleigh. I hope you all are having a wonderful day.

- A