Igor has been in London for nearly two full weeks now, and he must say, he is getting mildly irritated. While Igor is enjoying his charming flat, there always seems to be something a little off. First the keys don't work, and then they do, but there aren't enough of them for all of Igor's posse. Then the light in Igor's bathroom goes out, so a light must be taken from the hallway (after all, Igor's needs are greater than the rest of the flat's). The hallway lights have to be replaced, but then it turns out a few of the living room lights have gone out as well. Then the washing machine breaks. And the whole time, Igor's lackeys must deal with maintenance rather then attending to him! The outrage! What's a turtle to do in such a situation?

But these are but small hitches in the greater scheme of things. Igor continues to regularly meet with Her Majesty the Queen, and often goes galavanting around London and other places that he may not say, but he assures you it is Someplace Quite Grand And Important.

Meanwhile, Heeseung has been pursuing more humble adventures. This past week (not that any of you care about Heeseung's week, Igor knows) entailed of:

• seeing the intriguing thriller "Rope" at the Almeida Theatre (Alfred Hitchcock made a movie based on the play.)

• going to the National Gallery to view more British landscape paintings (and there are still a great number of landscape paintings yet to be examined for Heeseung's art history class)
• starting bikram yoga (Heeseung learned the hard way that she is, indeed, made up significantly of water. Igor prefers not to think about it.)
• and baking blackberry and strawberry thumbprint cookies

and mixed berry fruit tart, in which this:

and this:

were combined to make this:

There was also a brief walkthrough the British Museum, which is a convenient less-than-10-minute-walk from the flat (Igor doesn't walk, of course, but is transported by his retainer), but since Heeseung didn't have time to properly poke around, she'll have to go back again this weekend. She may want to move in there permanently, although it still is a bit too early to tell. Igor doesn't understand why Heeseung is wasting time visiting museums and galleries when she should be attending to him, not that his feelings would be hurt by a mere minion's lack of attention; it is just incredibly inconvenient for him. After all, becoming cultured, while important, ought to be done in one's own time, Igor would like to remind Heeseung. And it is all Heeseung's fault for not being born as cultured as Igor was. Although most of the population is not and cannot be.

Igor and Heeseung also rode the bus for the first time.

They rode in the top half of a double-decker bus, and while Heeseung enjoyed the experience, Igor may have experienced height vertigo did not suffer from any affliction of any kind, other than abject horror at the prospect of encountering germs whilst utilizing public transport. Why Heeseung insists on taking disease-infested vehicles, Igor does not know. (One of the very, very rare moments that Igor does not know the answer.)

Having barely survived his bus-riding experience, Igor needed to recuperate with some french toast.

In fact, there has been a great deal of eating, as of late, which is normally wholly welcomed, if Igor were not watching his shapely figure. He is still, of course, extremely attractive, however, so worry not, dear readers. Recent meals have included:

soba, edamame, dumplings, and red bean bun

and brie, arugula, and apple on a lightly toasted baguette.

Igor has been appeased by the food selection as of late, although he is careful not to be too complimentary. Can't have the help getting complacent, now.

Ah, Friday. The day of rest.* The beginning of the weekend. The start of the delicate recuperation process from a hectic week. It is a day where one may sleep in late and rise at one’s leisure. Until 10 o’ clock rolls around and the cleaners come and one has to strip the bed by touch because one’s eyes are at the moment incapable of opening wide enough to actually see what one is doing, all while nursing what may just be a very small hangover.

But such is simply the way of life. Igor, surprisingly, does not mind, as long as he is carefully lifted out of bed and relocated to another bed, turned to his left side with the blanket covering seven-eighths of his body, without being disturbed or, worse, woken. Such are the sacrifices one must make, after all, for a clean and tidy living environment and a freshly made bed. And Igor is just the turtle to make such sacrifices.

Igor (and thus, by default, Heeseung as well, Igor supposes) has been in London for a full week as of 7:46 this morning (when he was, of course, blissfully sound asleep). So far, there have been no drastic changes: Igor has retained in his Oxford accent. Heeseung has retained her Buffalo accent. The flat, post-cleaners, looks nearly exactly as it did when they first entered. Heeseung has learned, however, that the number of sheep in existence in the U.K. by far outnumbers the number of people. Fascinating and life-changing.

Heeseung has also been receiving culture lessons, during which Igor is usually meeting with royalty (he hasn't yet met with the landed nobility, but that was simply because he couldn't fit them into his schedule until next month). Early in the week, Heeseung went to see a production of The Pitmen Painters, written by Lee Hall, at the National Theatre. It was a play about coalminers who become artists and in learning how to paint, they learned the meaning of art. There were parallel points regarding class and social mobility, but Igor disapproves of such topics and prefers if those kinds of points did not sully his blog.

The National Theatre. Igor doesn't understand why it's lit up blue and not green.

Heeseung also went to the Tate Britain and saw the exhibit: "Turner and the Masters", which contrasted the works of British artist J.M.W. Turner with those of the Old Masters as well as with with Turner's contemporaries, showing how Turner was influenced by those artists. Igor approves of how Turner turned painting into a competitive sport.

Igor has been terribly busy for the past few days trying to make Heeseung worthy to be seen with him in public. Although Igor is a turtle of great strength, he's horribly tired from trying to infuse Heeseung with culture, a task far greater than he had initially anticipated. (Igor is also bemused as to why Heeseung didn't just learn through osmosis long ago, especially when she had such an exemplary example in himself...)

After exerting so much energy training Heeseung, Igor has to make sure he eats well (a haggard turtle is a turtle not fit to be viewed). Luckily, minion 4 has been quite good about cooking dinner for Igor (the rest of the flat eats after he does, Igor supposes, though he's never bothered to check).

* according to Igor. Actually, every day is a day of rest and leisure, but, for Igor, it just so happens that Friday is especially so.

Igor and Heeseung finally made it to London, after a completely unnecessarily long flight. Igor would have been very enraged and appalled at the length of the flight, had the airline not fortuitously bumped him up to first class, where, as Igor reminded Heeseung, he belonged. Unfortunately, Heeseung received no such treatment, and remained in the back with the rest of the plebeians.

The first view Igor and Heeseung had of London came as the aeroplane tilted, sending their gaze into a streak of brilliantly pink-tinted sky before dipping down into the clouds. The separation between murky cloud and foggy ground was almost indistinguishable, but then —

Igor and Heeseung were in London, where a grey haze was cast over everything.

Then, in the wee hours of the morning, Igor and Heeseung straggled over to Bedford Square (well, Heeseung straggled. Igor strutted.), where they received welcome and the keys to their flat. And then they were off again! What a whirlwind adventure. But actually, Igor was sound asleep by this point, waking only after arriving to their new home for the next four months.

And so, here is a brief photographic tour of Igor and Heeseung's first two days in London.

DAY 1:

Igor's bed. Heeseung sleeps on the floor.

The view out the window. Can't see? Here's another look.

Igor thinks it's quite nice, especially the square. Luckily there's a gate so Igor can keep all the undesirables out.

While the flat is wonderful, there was no internet for the first weekend, and thus, no contact with the outside world. Heeseung was unhappy, so she expressed her frustrations through the magic of folding and rolling her clothes. Igor couldn't care less because there was nobody worth talking to, anyway. After all, Igor is always where Igor is because Igor is... Igor.

To stave off the need for contact with the United States, Heeseung went to an internet cafe. It smelled funny. Igor abstained, because it was too bright in there. Happy colors? A sure sign that something is wrong with a place. Igor went to the ritzy cafe down the street to enjoy tea and biscuits, instead.

DAY 2:

The next day, Heeseung got up late and had a leisurely breakfast of flavored rice pudding. A chocolate croissant may have also been involved, but she won't say for sure. Igor, in the meantime, was still sleeping. Not that he was jetlagged, because he doesn't get affected by such common afflictions, but because he simply wished to sleep. (He does need sufficient beauty sleep, after all. Being beautiful is harder work than most people think.) Heeseung also spent the morning (or, as some people may define it, the afternoon) reading Henry James's The Portrait of a Lady for a class because Igor enrolled her at Yale-in-London, so embarrassed was he to be seen with her in her uncultured state. This was a small detail Igor chose not to mention to Heeseung until the planeride to London. Actually, he buzzed a flight attendant, whom he made relay the message. After all, Igor wasn't about to walk all the way back to ... coach.

Once Heeseung had trudged her way through roughly one-tenth of the book, she and her flatmates decided to go out and explore London. Igor knew it would not be worth his time (and couldn't be bothered to wake up). Meanwhile, Heeseung discovered that the Tube is very short, that is, very compact and low to the ground. Perfect for people who are short, compact, and low to the ground. Igor says it's only obvious that the Tube would be small because it fits him better (although, he would also like to note that, for a turtle, he has quite a long and beautiful neck).

Actually, Heeseung and co. (also known as Igor's minions, 1, 2, 3, and 4) were not simply exploring — they were looking for the Tate Modern. But they got lost. Oh well, exploring, getting lost — to-may-to, to-mah-to. During this time, Igor was— asleep.

While minions 1-4 were lost, they came across the Thames. It was a little chilly.

But it's OK because shortly after, they found the Tate! On display were some good things, some strange things. When Igor heard about their museum visit, he only remarked that once, he could have been a great artist...

Upon returning to the flat, the minions decided to do some flat-bonding. (Of course, Igor chose to pass. Bonding with the help? He shuddered at the very idea.) The bonding was made complete with fruit (courtesy of minion 4), bread (courtesy of minion 1), cheese (courtesy of minion 3), and fine drink (courtesy of minion 2). Much fun was had by all, except by Igor, who believed there was far too much merriment, as he notified Heeseung with a sniff of disapproval. Igor may have so strongly felt this way because he did not partake in drink, for reasons that were not divulged, but one might be led to suspect it may have had something to do with a certain turtle's weight-gain resultant of his indulgent tour around Europe this past summer. (Although turtles like Igor — proper turtles, that is — never divulge such information.)

And so went Igor's (and Heeseung's!) first weekend in London.

Hello, minions.

It is I, Igor, once again.

I'm sure you thought you'd seen the last of me after my most faithful servant, Heeseung, and I parted ways. I know you all mourned the very idea of not hearing from me again; indeed, I received just over 200 e-mails after my final post. I didn't have time to read all of them, or, for that matter, any of them (I am, after all, very important and therefore too busy for such menial tasks), but I was told by my underlings that the e-mails all expressed great sorrow at my exit.

Because I am a people's turtle and because I know how eager people are to read about me, I have decided the time is once again ripe for some more traveling. Korea was... nice last time (to be very, very charitable, and that is disregarding the heat, the mosquitoes, and the overzealous middle-aged ladies who roam the streets offering advice when none was asked for), but I've decided this time, I want to go somewhere that suits me a little better. Korea was exotic enough, but I want something a little more... refined.

And so, I'm headed off to London.

Why London? Well, dear readers, what you may not know is that my full name is actually Igor Norman Plantaganet Lancaster York Tudor Stuart Hanover Windsor. Yes, I'm kind of a big deal amongst the English. No, I don't want to talk about it. But you wonder, dear reader, how do I know, considering I don't know who my parents are? While it is true that I was orphaned at a young age, I have just always known I was special. Different from all the other turtles. And it went beyond just how my shell was shinier than all the other turtles' and how I was faster than all the other turtles. And so all I can really say is that I just can feel it in my wise turtle-gut. And because I am always right, it must be true. Simple logic.

Do not be embarrassed for second-guessing me, though, as I'm feeling charitable tonight, before I fly back to my homeland. Of course, if you make the foolish mistake of doubting me again, minions, then you shall find yourself locked up in a very tall, very drafty tower before you can even say, "Cheerio!"

Having cleared that up, back to me, me, me, and my travel plans. For the sake of expediency, I'm taking the bumbler, Heeseung, along with me so that she may type out my posts for me, although I really feel as though I should just invest in a voice transcription machine instead. It would be far easier on the eyes, at least. In any case, there's no time to order one before my trip, so I guess I'll have to make do.

Now, Heeseung must finish packing all my things, so, until next time, enjoy this picture of yours truly poring over tomorrow's travel plans. As you might have noticed, the itinerary is upside down-- yet another sign of my advanced mental capacity. I almost exclusively read upside down because reading rightside up is simply too basic.