Trip Blog. Day Five.

16:18 BST (not GMT, as I had previously thought); 10:18 CST

I am in Gordon Square, Bloomsbury, London. Twenty feet behind me me is the house in which lived Virginia Woolf and the others of the Bloomsbury Group (similar to the Austin Java Writing Company, but more incestuous and more widely known). I am not quite so much in awe as I was at Westminster Abbey, but I am not entirely certain that any other experience I could ever have could match that. I am quite close, however. I got off at Tottenham Court Road with the intention of going to the British Museum, but there are too many tourists and I shall return early tomorrow.

I walked up here along Bloomsbury Road, noticing along the way the various blue seals that serve as historical markers in London. I realised that it was necessary to buy a map of London's streets when I suddenly found myself no longer on Bloomsbury Road. Fortunately, what is apparently the largest academic bookstore in Europe, a Waterstone's, manifested itself directly in front of me. Looking at the map I realised that I was not far off my mark but purchased it anyway since in a day or two I will be seeking out Abbey Road and the home of C.S. Lewis.

I checked my neat Girl Scout compass to make sure I was actually headed in the correct direction because the sun is too far south here to be reliable as an indicator and the streets are not at right angles.

I happened upon Gordon Square quite suddenly and was taken about to be in the place; I walked three quarters around before I found number Forty-Six. This place is really beautiful; the Square has a park in the middle with lots of flowers and lined with trees. There are a few families around, and some people sitting in pairs or along, reading or writing. On the far corner from where I sit, there are some prepubescent boys destroying a shopping trolley. The trolley is putting up a good fight, lying on its side like a sort of wounded creature, the sides all bent in, but not taking any more damage. I am rooting for it.

It means a great deal to me to be sitting in front of the place where one of my literary heroines lived; this whole trip has inspired me to put further effort into my studies, and I also feel that I am certainly going to have to come back here often. I am slightly lonely for people at home, though not for general company; I have been recruited by the manager of my hostel to re-tile one of the bathrooms. Apparently I will either be paid or will receive a discount in my lodging for the rest of the week as well as free beer.

There are some very nice birds here, and I find it unfortunate that no one is here to tell me what sort they are.