Though only there for just over 24 hours, we managed to fill our time with nothing but the oldest pub, fantastic eats and bronze casting babes we met on the patio overlooking the river Thames. The Mayflower Pub in southeast London was the best possible way to spend our short time. We arrived early – just before dinner time – after a series of random decisions led us to Rotherhithe we meandered through the narrow cobblestoned streets and found the pub. There were people drinking and crunching and chatting and eating green wasabi coated peanuts – the entire pub smelled like a spectacular amalgamation of delicious dinners and fresh chips and the tables were large and shared.
Pints were plenty and we over indulged and ate like kings for the night. We met two wonderfully cool ladies on the extended patio, had passion-fueled discussions about politics and current relations between our countries as well as the current states of the UK and what the future looks like with Brexit having gone through. People are scared – really, really fucking scared – of what will happen and what their future looks like. We also met two lovely, chivalrous Irishmen that were kind and slightly offensive that were kind enough to lend me a green hand and help me find exactly what I needed and a woman that was extremely well informed and invited us into her home to listen to her underground Swedish synthpop vinyl collection while we smoked hash cigarettes. Sadly, we had to catch the last train back to our hotel so we missed that – and we drunkenly took the overground for an hour and then stumbled through the muddy forest path near the airport to get back to where we needed to rest.