Hostel Hell and Tower of London

 I managed to fall asleep last night, despite being 6 hours ahead of my normal routine. I had one of the strangest dreams I remember--one of those outer-body dreams that don't seem real, however, are so disturbing that they startle you with their grotesque reality. I sensed something was pulling me away from my bed, and so I think this hostel has a pultergist--with the history and bleak morning air around me, I would not be surprised.

Shortly after this awkward experience, a group of Bulgarians came into the hostel room and turned on all the lights around 3 a.m. Adding to the strangeness, I met these Bulgarians earlier in the day when they asked me directions to some unknown place outside a coffee shop. I said I wasn't from around here, but I think they were looking for the Hostel.

The Hostel I am at is similar to a college dorm room but with more people sharing roughly the same amount of space. As a result of the tight quarters, the room is as noisy as a London bus and as compact as British jam. I stuffed my book-bag inside the top sheet of my bed and rented a locker to store all my electornic equipment. However, I was not careful. I failed to note where I took off my shoes, and I am unable to find them despite looking. I think they are somewhere buried underneath everyone elses' luggage. And I am waiting for there to be more light to spill through the windows to illuminate where they are. The Hostel surprisingly serves a Contenial breakfast in about an hour. I will eat and then take whatever step, even if bare-foot, to find them.

Today I plan to explore the Tower of London, visit the Albert and Victoria museum, visit St. Paul's Cathedral, and walk around the city, absorbing its scences and looking for surprises--a good candy shop would be nice. I just hope the store doesn't have a sign that says 'No shoes--No service.'