Things About London That are Great.

by shewastheyoungamerican

And now for a list of things I just love having in London that you might not find in Amurrica:

DIGESTIVES. Let the name go and experience the chocolatey biscuit goodness that is a Digestive. You can try the Tesco or Sainsbury’s brand…but the real stuff is where it’s at. Put some nutella or peanut butter (yes, the British version will suffice) or maybe even some ice cream and make a sammich. Go on, I dare you.

Really nice long breaks. They don’t work you to the bone in school. You’ve been sitting in the classroom for nearly 90 minutes. Go on, have a cuppa and come back in 15 or 20. Stretch your legs, get some fresh air. It’s only proper.

National healthcare. Say what you want about the politics of it, but as someone here on a student Visa, I have to say…it’s a damn nice policy. If I’m sick, I go to the doctor. No questions asked. Oh and prescriptions? Most are free or under 10 pounds. I’m sorry, why are we letting US citizens go without healthcare again? I’m pretty sure it’s one of those basic human rights. As is education. They make that affordable here, too.

Awesome words: knackered (tired), gutted (bummed/upset), cuppa (cup of tea), waistcoat (vest), trainers (sneakers), jumpers (sweaters) …though during period of sweater/jumper weather, I rarely want to exert the kind of energy needed for doing something as rigorous as jumping. Unless it were to get something out of the top shelf of the cabinet…like hot chocolate….or more blankets. I’m more likely to be sweating under my multiple layers and slowly lapsing into a food coma.

CASTLES. This one’s for you, Brian Browne.

Free museums. Like, pretty much all of them.

Affordable theatre! What’s that? This ticket to one of the most highly acclaimed shows of the year is 20 pounds? SOLD.

Unpasteurized cheese. I can literally taste what the cow was eating. Just as it should be. Louis Pasteur must spinning in his grave for what these folk have done with milk. But I’ll be damned if I didn’t swoon for it.

Life doesn’t stop at age 35. Or 40. Or 50. Or 85. Any neighborhood, any pub, people are out. People are social here, and that’s nice.

Daily life consists of walking the streets of Shakespeare, J.M. Barry, Freddy Mercury, William Wordsworth, the Beatles, Sidney Poitier…and who knows, you just might run into Helen Mirren (considering I saw Peter O’Toole in a park the last time I lived here…dreams do come true!)

Very rarely will you come across someone who carries a schlubby appearance.

Boy bands are making a comeback! Be still my 14-year-old heart. Give me those irresistible synchronized moves and cheeseball lyrics.

Not feeling the pressure to stay out until the most insane hours of the night. Oh this bar closes at 1? Cool.

Christmas poppers and silly holiday crowns.

Stag and Hen parties. Come on America, get more creative with your ways to embarrass grooms and brides to-be…because we all know the parties are really for their friends coping with their own singledom. So yeah, I might have to dress you up like a chicken in a diaper. Sorry guys.

Sunday roasts.

No NFL. Sorry everyone back home, but I just…don’t like football (futbol Americano, that is). Rugby? That I’ll watch. If giant dudes are gonna be running into each other whilst throwing a ball, they might as well go all out. And you know, not stop every 3.2 seconds.

Everything is an excuse to wear a scarf. You know how I loves me some fashionable scarves.

People read newspapers! A lot! Literacy!

Less offensive squirrels.

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