Thelma and Jane Louise do London

So, after everything going on back home I have never needed a visit from Rebecca Lorraine more in my life. I was sooooooo looking forward to her heading down here and us being able to hit the sights for a little bit. She came over to he UK from the UAE, where I visited her in the first part of my trip, so she could renew her visa and visit her Nonna in Cambridge and her trip to London to see me was kind of a spontaneous bonus.
I raced up to Kings Cross on the Friday after work, getting from Chelsea Manor St to South Kensington station in a time that may have qualified me for the Olympics if there was an event for getting to tube stations, the next ones are here some one really should suggest it.
Kings cross is nuts on a Friday night, lots of people commuting out for the weekend to various points of call in the UK or trying to connect to other points in London on the tube. Its a sea of people all quietly and politely resenting you for being in their way and I knew Bec would hate it,
so my plan was to get her out of there as soon as possible. And after a brief but unexpected detour which I shall only be published in my unauthorised biography we arrived at Acton Central.
We grabbed dinner at the pub where Bec had some amazing salmon and I had a damn fine burger and then I proceeded to show Bec all the highlights of Acton which happily took about 30 seconds and we could do while standing in front of the pub.
Next morning after some military like planning we left home and made out way onto the district line towards Westminster. We had two things we wanted to achieve this weekend and they were touristy sightseeing and a visit to the westfield. Saturday, giving the more optimistic weather forecast was given over for touristy sightseeing. We got out the tube and looked up and lo and behold there was big ben. Then I said something stupid. We were standing in front of the ticket booth to buy tickets to cruise up the Thames to Greenwich and Bec asked me if we had time to go take some pictures of Big Ben before we got on the boat and my response was “Sure, what time is it?” . Its like walking into the Sistene Chapel and saying where's the art, sometimes thinking doesn't come before saying for me. We got on to our boat after many contradictory and directionless signs steering our way and puttered off down the Thames surrounded by couples. Valentines day, from deaths dark heart I stab at you. It was at this point that the camera died. Damn. We passed the Tate, the London Eye, tower bridge, the tower of London all without being able to take a single shot. Were it not for the existence of a Boots in Greenwich we'd not have got any on the way back either. As it was though we still managed to snap away about 260 shots before enough was enough.
We were starving by the time we got to Greenwich and after a little wander around, ended up at a cute little pub called The Gypsy Moth again good food and somewhere I could indulge my sudden craving for meat. After much needed refreshment we wandered back through the naval college, there were these signs out pointing the way to something called the painted hall. Oh yeah, thought, painted, huge attraction, bet there's doors and windows too, someone hold me back.

But then I walked towards the doors leading to it and caught a glimpse inside. Its the kind of sight that provokes mindless expletives, from which I generally don't hold myself back except, I've learned, when there is an echo. Never mindlessly swear in a big echoy place because then you're just the slack jawed yokel who said “Faaarrrrkkkk” and will have to listen to it over and over as it seems never to die out while all eyes turn disapprovingly towards you. Its hard to look at pretty things once you've done that. Or so I'm told....

I grabbed Bec as I stood at the front door and mutely pushed her inside, those are the things that stay with me about trips I've taken. The unexpectedly beautiful things that have been sitting around, sometimes for hundreds or thousands of year, sometimes its just something that happens everyday. Suddenly you're there and this thing that you never knew existed just tattooed itself to your brain.
That happened in the Chantry in Tynemouth and on a street early one morning in Bergen out the front of a bakers shop.
If I ever got married that would be one of the places that I'd want to do it, the humbly named Painted Hall. After walking in and out of a few less painted buildings we made our way through the Greenwich Market. Busy, busy market. Bec and I swigging on waterbottles with Berroca in them elbowing our way through people, but Bec did buy a bamboo saxophone which is actually much more impressive than it sounds and we heard someone getting engaged which was actually quite sweet. It was a couple of the stall holders and a few of the other stall holders had gotten together and written it for the potential groom. The guy who rang the old brass printing plate stall told us this as he almost talked me into paying 40 pounds for an art deco printing plate.
With our camera juiced up on batteries and some baked goods from one of the cake stalls we made our way back on to the boat and proceeded to take far too many pictures of everything.
I think we have now conclusively proven that you can have too many pictures of the tower bridge.
There can also be too many pictures of Big Ben, which was the next thing we proved.
After listening to him chime we made our way in the fading light towards Buckingham Palace through St James' gardens. Betty wasn't home that day so we turned and wandered down to Trafalgar Square where I stopped to get yet more batteries and Bec bought some souvenirs to take home. After taking even more photos we stopped in at a little pub for dinner and then afterwards Bec made me stand in front of it while she took ages to figure out how to use the Zoom and a crowd built up behind her while I stood face frozen in embarrassment, arms flung wide like I was presenting the show case on wheel of fortune.
It was definitely time to go home.
Sunday we took our time getting up and then headed out on the bus to Westfield which is about 15 mins from me. Did all the normal girly shopping things and I fell in love with a dress I couldn't afford while dressing Bec like I was either Trinny or Susannah.It was nice to have a bit of a girly shopping trip though, every so often it quells an urge. Dinner was at the Meat and Wine company at Westfield where I had been looking forward to steak. I'm sure later in life when I develop mad cow I may regret that but until that day, I can tell you it was divine. Mash potatoes and a three course special that included crème brulee and they only ended up charging us the 2 course special price on.
It was too late to tell them, we'd already gone, or we were about to leave I don't remember, either way we'd all move on emotionally and that's the important thing.
On Monday we trekked up to Acton Town and Bec went to Kings Cross while I made my way back to work. A fantastic weekend, if only we could do it all the time. xxx

A melanchonly post

I just looked at the date I posted my last entry and realised that there had been a big break in our regularly scheduled programming. Very sorry about that. I guess there has been a lot happening and it can sometimes make the passage of time feel as if has passed slower than it really has.
Since my last entry there has certainly been a hell of a lot going on back there. I got a call in the morning of the 7th of Feb from my Dad. He lives out in Long Gully, near Bendigo, and told me with what I thought was a remarkable amount of restraint that they'd had a bit of an eventful day out that way. It was the cat that had alerted him to the approaching fires initially as he'd been inside with the aircon on and the curtains closed to escape the heat. Mercifully, he, the cat and the house were all ok but as it quickly emerged, others weren't so lucky. The next week was spent either talking to people back home about the fires, talking to people here about the fires or trying to get some clear information about them from news sources back home. I thought about whether or not I should make a comment about them to be honest. It feels strange being here and so far away with all that happening. Even if I was there, what is it that you can really say when something on this scale occurs. Nothing, nothing that hasn't either already been said or would ring hollow with the telling.
But not acknowledging the fires have happened and the toll they've exacted seemed a little crass and in a way naïve. So to all you reading back home, this is just to say I've been thinking about you. I know by now that physically you are all ok and I'm glad for that. I know as well that you're all rallying around and contributing in whatever ways you can to try and ease the burden now experienced by those who have been directly affected by these fires and for that I'm proud of you.
The demonstrations of the best in peoples characters might be the only good to come of this.
All that I can send you now is love, and the continued hope that every one stays safe. Take care xxx

There's no business like snow business

We've heard it a million times, that vexing phrase, “be careful what you wish for, coz you just might get it”. Uttered by the smug and patronising. Pah, I'd think, that's a good thing, I want to get what I wish for. Now I understand what it means. Really. Truly and deep down to my frozen toes.
I've been wishing for real snow, proper snow, chestnuts roasting on an open fire kind of snow, for as long as I can remember. Last time I was over here it snowed maybe twice and so briefly that it never even settled. The only time I got a real decent crop of snow was in the arctic when I went to the icehotel. As I was writing my last blog to you, the snow had just started in earnest and I was naïve in my anticipation of it. Oh its exciting, I wrote, there will be about a foot of snow in the lane maybe.
Well it was damn near close to that, and when I woke up on Monday morning and opened the curtains to the balcony, I have to say I was shocked. How the hell do I get to work, I asked myself. What if I cant make it to work coz I'm Australian and not built for these kinds of climates but everyone else can manage, I'll look stoopid. I really wish I had of stolen those snow boots from the icehotel I thought, as I tucked my tracksuit bottoms into my explorer socks (Ooohhh and if you think that sounds unfashionable......you would be right) As a precautionary measure I packed an extra set of trousers and socks in with my office shoes and armed with my camera set off down the lane.
It was awesome, even as jaded as I am now about the whole snow thing I have to say walking down that lane on Monday was brilliant. My feet crunched in the powdery snow, it was all white and pristine and no one else had walked on it yet, I don't know about anyone else but being the first to break a smooth surface gives me a deep sense of satisfaction that I cannot adequately define. The slide into an undisturbed pool, the foot print in the sand smoothed by tides and now the first foot print into an expanse of snow. It makes me happy. It was still snowing too as I made my way to the station, snow falling soundlessly but thick and fast. The security gates opened with a greater sense of grandeur than normal, as they swept the snow out of their way in great drifts, to let me by. The streets were mostly silent given that all the cars were buried under great piles of snow. I had to laugh as I walked past a group of school kids, who obviously wouldn't be going to school today, building snow men and throwing snow balls exclaiming “This is awesome!” All the footpaths were still covered in snow and only on the main streets could you see where the snow had been turned muddy brown from cars that had dared to venture out. Churchfield Road out the front of Acton Central Train station looked like a frontier town with white snow on either side divided neatly by a muddy strip of slush. I crunched hopefully to the train station only to be greeted by a bemused London Overland worked who laughed at me when I asked him when the train was coming, “Normally I say catch the bus but they're gone too, and even if you could get one there's no tube running” Ok then, I'll wait for a bit because I am nothing if not eternally optimistic and then I'll just have to go home and wait til it stops I guess, the responsible part of me thought. But the irresponsible part thought “Woooo hoooo, snow day!!!!” After waiting and hour and chatting to people as they wandered on to the train platform and wandered off again, I resigned myself to snow day. Ah, they joys of snow day. Its pretty, its fun to play in, you cant go to work even if you wanted to and you feel obliged to eat things that contain chocolate. On my way back home I bought some chocolate croissants from the little corner shop, and for some reason, popcorn, I had some crazy snow induced idea that I would pop popcorn in the aga and watch the snow fall. I don't know, maybe I've seen too many Bing Crosby films, I didn't end up bothering with the popcorn its still sitting in the cupboard. I spent most of my time taking photos and playing outside in between calling and chatting to people about the snow. So that was Monday, no train, no tube, no buses, no nothing. By Monday evening it had stopped snowing which gave the snow time to melt and then refreeze just a little so that all that lovely snow I'd crunched around in the day before became bone snapping ice. Walking down the lane was no longer fun. Walking anywhere was no longer fun, it was a death ride to tractionville via compound fracture alley. I needn't of worried about hurrying to the station because the train was certainly taking its sweet time. I eventually got on the district line and had to change half way because the train kept stalling. You better know that's freaky in tunnels.
I had consoled myself with the thought that surely the pavements from South Kensington to Chelsea would have been salted and gritted, those are rich people down there, surely they'd be using the finest maldon sea salt to grit their pavements lest the widow Pilkington-Smythe break a hip whilst out walking her Pekinese. Well I can tell you if she was out walking her Pekinese that morning she would have gone arse over tit because those pavements were worse than the ones in Acton. To give you an idea of how bad they were my choice was to either walk on the road which had been gritted and risk being hit by the 211 to Victoria station or risk the icy pavement and I chose the road. The walk to work down Chelsea Manor St was worse, black ice all over the place, the congealed splashes of coffee, like a Jackson Pollock painting on the ice, where someone had come a cropper with their morning cup of Joe. I had to concentrate so hard not to fall over I didn't even listen to my MP3 player lest it distract me. I didn't get to go for my normal lunch time walk because suddenly it had become hazardous to my health. In fact I didn't get to see the outside of the building until home time when I nervously shuffled my way back up to South Kensington Tube station and on to the train bound for home. Getting home was an odyssey in and of itself, on the breakneck paths from Acton Central rail. At that point, I was not happy about snow. Now its Thursday night, and after one day where its finally started to get back to normal I find out that more snow is on its way tonight. 60% chance that its going to be as heavy as it was on Monday. Fuck it, you know what, at this point I realise there is nothing to do but deal. Take the pretty when it comes and deal with the icy at the end of it. Its life isn't it. Into each life a little snow must fall and in its falling turn to slush which freezes over and tries to kill you. Here endeth the lesson.

I'm 9 to 5 but at least there's snow

Another big week in London town for me. This week I started at the new job in Chelsea. Working for Sky doing various things I've done before. Its been so long since I started a new job though I think I'd forgotten what it was like. The whole orienting yourself to the subtle differences contained in each office while at the same time noticing how everything is pretty similar. In the last job we dialled 0 to get an outside line, here they dial 9, back home half the time we had huge system issues and mindless rules built into the system to make your job that much harder, here they do exactly the same thing. There are some fun people though so at least it has that going for it. And certainly in this economic climate I'm lucky to have any kind of job and at lunch time I get to wander down The Kings Road or walk by the Thames as opposed to wandering down Collins St or walking by the Yarra. I'm glad for a little bit of routine for the moment really, settles me down a bit and helps me think. The last week it has struck me that I need to formulate my next big plan. I planned this trip, the whole getting over here and travelling and working thing. Now that I know I can do it I have to come up with my next plan. I've decided that it cant just be another trip somewhere, it has to be more of a challenge than that. Something that means that I don't have to spend my life working nine to five is what I'm thinking might be what the next plan consists of. I have a vague idea of what it could be but until I've decided for sure and its all cemented in I cant really tell you about it.
Not now but soon.
So yes apart from the run of the mill office stuff I've been spending my week getting to and from work which, with the crowds and the rain we've had has sometimes been an adventure. I've always made it though. Then at lunchtime I like to get out and go for a walk. There are at least 2 chocolate shops within 5 mins of my work, one being Godiva and the other being Hotel Chocolat. I haven't been game enough to walk into them yet, I'm using it as a test of will power. There are a bunch of clothes shops, all way too expensive for me, as are the shoe shops. There is a fantastic antique shop which whilst also too expensive has lots of little curios that cost nothing to look at.
There have been some beautiful sunny days this week and I've gotten myself a sandwich from Waitrose and found this little open green space near by that I can read and eat lunch in. It takes me past this alternative medicine clinic and they had their windows open letting the smell of Nag Champa waft out onto the street, reminded me of the Preston Market and all the incense I used to buy from the 2 ladies who ran the wicker shop there. Next door to them is a noodle shop called Phat Phuc which made me giggle. The English can be somewhat restrained so I didn't expect to see that on the Kings Road.
Its been my first full week living in the coach house as well which is just fantastic. I'm getting used to cooking in the Aga which is brilliant. I've been cooking for so long that to a certain extent you get a bit complacent and forget how much fun learning to cook can be. Having to adjust everything to cooking in the Aga has made me remember how much I love cooking again. The Aga forces you to be more instinctive about what you're cooking because there are no timers or temperature gauges. I'm actually starting to prefer it to cooking with gas.
Went to the Westfeild London this weekend for a haircut and the odd bits and pieces. Discovered Foyles which is this giant bookshop a bit like borders, that might get me in trouble, I've already seen books I want to buy. The Westfield is just like any other Westfeild really but possibly slightly more expensive. I'd forgotten how going to those places on my own makes me want to hurt people. Makes me want to elbow them out of the way as the wander slack jawed and awe-struck down endless aisles of the same old shops. If I'm there with someone then its ok, we can chat, stop for a drink of something but if I'm there on my own then I just want to get in, get what I need to, do what I need to and then get the hell out of there and all of these mindless shopper drones just get in my way.
Its very close though, 15 min bus trip so that's a plus.
Today has been a bit of a relaxing day, its been freezing cold due to a front coming down from Russia. We had little snow flurries and I ran out into them like a giant 2 year old. Its night here now and since about 5 pm its been snowing pretty consistently. I've been poking my head out the balcony doors and checking on it every so often. Getting down the lane tomorrow might be fun there's probably going to be about a foot of snow down there. Its all very pretty until it melts and then refreezes all over the pavement making walking on them an adventure in and of itself. Should continue for most of this week so hopefully I can get some nice photos of it for you.
I've posted some pics of the new place and some snow shots from tonight.
Will blog a little more during the week as I have to get to bed now, I'm a worker don't you know.