Day One In London: The British Museum

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As you all know I went to Landaaaaaaahn with my boyfriend recently, and let me start by saying I took a shit-ton of photos, so you’re all going to be subjected to a touristy pictures and LOOK WHAT I DID ON MY TRAVELS type of blogging for just a little while, I hope that’s okay. I’ll get moody again real soon, I promise. A month, tops. Because periods.

So, yeaaahhhhh. On our first day it was blowing an absolute fucking hurricane, and we hid in the beautiful auditorium of The British Museum, looking at all the things that (as my charming man pointed out) we as a country have collectively stolen from other nations and put on display, out of context and miles from home. It was open late so we stayed until it got really dark outside, and I had photographed every interesting thing I could find. I held his hand as we examined bones from the past, that must have loved while they were alive. Back in our hotel room we ate the tray of chocolates that had been left on our bed by the management, and drank the complimentary bottle of Prosecco. We were both over-worked, exhausted, aching. We rubbed each other’s feet while we watched television. I didn’t want to have to do any of the work, and as we folded into each other I saw our reflections in the hotel window, warm and blurry, laughing.

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