Getting Sick in Britian
Getting a cold or the flu in Britain is one thing. Being hungover in the most prestigious library in Europe and probably the world, is another.
It all began at this morning when I woke up. Last night was a formal event for Public Policy Masters at UCL. Despite my attempts drink lots of water before I went to bed, I was hungover. Desperately needing to get work done, I drag myself out of bed - two hours later than planned - made some coffee and headed to the British Library. The Library is a massive building hosting 150 million items and every book ever printed in the UK/Ireland including the first book ever printed in the world.
After about 45 minutes of arriving I am finally checked in . . . .which means I have shown 3 different proofs of identity just to get a reader card - to gain access to books which conveniently you cannot check out and have to read in the designated reading rooms.
I am finally settled, I order my books and I start reading . . . after an hour I realize that is really hot in the Library, my stomach grumbles and I am parched. Normally I carry a water bottle with me, but the reading room does not allow water in. You may find a water cooler in the cafe but the cups are cone shapes so that even if you sneak in a cup, you cannot place it on the table.
Hot and parched, a wave of nausea hits. Oh no . . . I am sitting in the library that housing the Magna Carta and I could vomit. Still not sure on the Magna Carta? See earlier blogs. Now that my hangover has come full force I start sweating even more . The Library does not allow in pens nor water for hear of destruction to the books . . . I wonder how they would feel if I puked on one? I weigh my options . The closest bathroom is three floors down, I am at least a 10 minute walk from fresh air however, however, there are trashcans around. . . . I know at this point, I just need to get out.
So I grab my stuff, cancel the rest of my ordered books and head through security - which is a tighter lock down than Heathrow. I rush to the outside doors and the fresh cold air hits me - I am ok . . . no puke.
I don't think twice . . . I just keep walking, head to closest greasy food joint, get takeout, go home and get in bed. While not the most productive day, I did not puke in the British Library (and I got to visit a landmark).
It all began at this morning when I woke up. Last night was a formal event for Public Policy Masters at UCL. Despite my attempts drink lots of water before I went to bed, I was hungover. Desperately needing to get work done, I drag myself out of bed - two hours later than planned - made some coffee and headed to the British Library. The Library is a massive building hosting 150 million items and every book ever printed in the UK/Ireland including the first book ever printed in the world.
After about 45 minutes of arriving I am finally checked in . . . .which means I have shown 3 different proofs of identity just to get a reader card - to gain access to books which conveniently you cannot check out and have to read in the designated reading rooms.
I am finally settled, I order my books and I start reading . . . after an hour I realize that is really hot in the Library, my stomach grumbles and I am parched. Normally I carry a water bottle with me, but the reading room does not allow water in. You may find a water cooler in the cafe but the cups are cone shapes so that even if you sneak in a cup, you cannot place it on the table.
Hot and parched, a wave of nausea hits. Oh no . . . I am sitting in the library that housing the Magna Carta and I could vomit. Still not sure on the Magna Carta? See earlier blogs. Now that my hangover has come full force I start sweating even more . The Library does not allow in pens nor water for hear of destruction to the books . . . I wonder how they would feel if I puked on one? I weigh my options . The closest bathroom is three floors down, I am at least a 10 minute walk from fresh air however, however, there are trashcans around. . . . I know at this point, I just need to get out.
So I grab my stuff, cancel the rest of my ordered books and head through security - which is a tighter lock down than Heathrow. I rush to the outside doors and the fresh cold air hits me - I am ok . . . no puke.
I don't think twice . . . I just keep walking, head to closest greasy food joint, get takeout, go home and get in bed. While not the most productive day, I did not puke in the British Library (and I got to visit a landmark).
posted by Marisa at 4:10 AM
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