I keep calling trousers "pants" in public.

Portobello Road, Portobello Road. Street where the riches of ages are sold. Everything and anything a chap can unload is sold off the barrows at Portobello Road. It’s true you can find any oddity you like there. Mostly it was socks, antiques, and jewelry, clothing. There were delicious open fruit markets and a fantastic spice shop, also. Other weekend activities include one failed museum trip, many attempts and eventual one successful trip to the library. Finally we got some research time. I am starting to get nervous about my women’s wear assignment. Fear of the unknown I suppose. I have so much time on my hands here that I find watch a lot more TV and am endlessly hungry. I’m sure things will change as I become busier with schoolwork. Businesses close very early here in comparison to the states; 8:00pm for most and even earlier than that on Saturdays. Pubs close at 11pm. Clubs are open later but I couldn’t dance my way out of a cardboard box let alone ten minutes in a club. Culture “shocks”: Policemen walk around with notebooks, occasionally taking notes and then walking off. Pedestrians do NOT have the right of way (and drivers know it). You need a license to watch TV or face a £1,000 fine. All sinks have separate faucets for hot and cold. "Trousers" are pants and "pants" are underwear.