London Calling Part Two.....

My first non jet lagged night I decided to take the train to the bustling metropolis known as Reading. Everyone in the office told me that Reading had shops opened later and better restaurants.

This worked for me because I wanted to get a toy double decker bus for my sons and my dad had asked me for a Manchester United hat. My colleague Steve had told me about this great italian restaurant called Caliccios that I would really like.

Once I get off the train I realize that I've made a huge mistake. I have no idea where to go. It starts pouring rain as soon as I step outside and I have stupidly forgotten my hat in my nice warm hotel room.

I figure "Fuck it, I'm here anyway." I head to main area and see a bunch of shops. My goal is to get the hat for my dad and the toy for my boys.

It is about 6:30 PM and all of the shops are starting to close.

So while the shops in Reading are opened longer than the ones in Bracknell, they are only open for one hour longer and my train ride was about 50 minutes.

So the shopping is nixed, but dinner can be salvaged. Unfortunately I'm lost in a foreign city at night and its raining out. This is not really conducive for asking for directions since most people are rushing home.

I do find a couple and ask if they know where Caliccios is. They tell me I need to take a right at the Oracle and then go over a bridge and then take a few more turns and I should see it.

They then disappear into the english night.

Now I am thankful for the directions, but at the same time:

What the fuck is the Oracle?

Some wandering on my part and I figure it out. It is the mall in Reading. I head in because I have to use the rest room and I hope to find something decidedly english for the boys. I mean they must sell a double decker bus here right?

Let me let all of my dear readers in on a little secret. There is nothing in England that you can't get in America. There are no little English shops. There are no "Wee Britain" stores where an old codger sips tea and Yells out "Oi arsehole! Wot ar' yeh doin'?"

This mall was the same as any mall in America. I was somewhat let down. I left it and tried to find my way to the italian restaurant. At this point I had to achieve at least one of my goals.

So as I was walking I came upon a sushi restaurant. There was an older lady walking by and I asked her if she knew where the italian restaurant Caliccios was.

First of all she grabbed her purse and stepped back like I was the second coming of Jack the Ripper (this will become a trend) and pointed to the sushi restaurant behind me and said:

"There's a restaurant right there."

Thanks Mary Poppins but this is a fucking sushi restaurant.

So I walk around the outside of the Oracle and can see a river that has restaurants all around it. One is an italian restaurant called Bella Italia.

I accept this as a compromise and head in and have a fine meal with some great italian beer.

Sated and somewhat happy that I did at least have an italian meal I head back to the train station.

Of course there is the little issue of me trying to find my way back to the train station. I wandered around Reading for about an hour trying to find a place to eat and have no idea where I am.

I cut through the mall and see two ladies walking in the archway leading out. I ask them for directions and they jump away from me like I have a rag of ether in my hands and date rape on my mind.

They laugh it off and tell me how to get back. I rush to the train station and do a cursory check to see if I have blood on me or something else that seems to make people nervous around me. Maybe it's the funny accent I have.

I never did find out though.

I get home around 10 or so. I am full but soaked to the bone and go to sleep.

It was a fun night but I should have written directions down and taken an umbrella.

Coming up:

Part three. Pub hopping.