Olde London Town
ok this was written over two days, and only put up now...
Saturday 18 March
Well it’s been almost a week here in London and I really haven’t done much. As Kristen says, "hey you’re on holidays". Yes, I am, and it’s super freezing here. Forget anything I said about France being cold (well except maybe that day in the queue at Musee d’Orsay) here’s the wind chill factor just takes down that -2 to 2 day about -10 degrees or something, I dunno, but enough about the weather. It’s green, it’s cold, it’s England, hooray!
So I left France on another beautiful day (why is the weather always good when you’re leaving!). The Eurostar was well, a train, and sitting next to me was a wacky Brazilian. Who was talking, and talking the whole trip. Which was ok, because after limited human interaction for the last 5 days (my French really isn’t great – neither is my Portuguese but hey the Brazilian spoke English) I was willing to listen.
20 March 2006
Ok so because I am now on a train to Oxenholme (who ever heard of that before?!) and trains are great places for writing... it’s been a while since I got to London, and I didn’t really do that much, so, like me at the British Museum, you guys kind of get the highlights tour.
Also typing on the train is actually making me feel a little sick, so I apologise if at any stage I have to stop and puke all over my nice white keyboard.
I got to London, Waterloo (damn ABBA forever for creating that song I swear – once it’s in my head... Waterloo doop di dooo) and the Brazilian was still following me, under the guise of asking my cousin for directions…sure... So there was the lovely Kristen coming towards me, with Mike (her newish fiancé). I was in London, and best of all seeing my cousin.
Apparently I had forgotten how to talk English. I had to order my ticket (I don’t know – do you order tickets? Or only order fries at Maccas?) Anyway, here’s me: "single to Shepard’s Bush please"
Ticket man: "Where you bound?"
Me: "Shepard’s Bush"
TM: "Where you bound?"
Me: "I dunno, it’s like the stop after Notting Hill"
TM: "Yes, I know, three pounds please!!"
Meanwhile Kristen was standing behind me absolutely wetting her pants at me. Nice. I have discovered since that in fact most Londoners don’t speak English at all, and I am reminded of yet another musical theatre moment i.e. Rex Harrison in ‘My Fair Lady’- "Why can’t the English, learn to speak English!?!".
Oh and by the way, somehow the Brazilian was still there?! Anyway managed to lose the Brazilian by promising to "do lunch" the next day and went home to some Stir-fry (hooray for vegetables) and Krispy Kremes (evil nemesis of vegetables).
Next morning was what I’d like to term the start of ‘my holidays’ also known as lazy around. So I decided to be true to my Australian roots and seeing how I was in an (almost) English speaking country what better way to celebrate than with American TV and vegemite on toast. That would have been great if I hadn’t made the toast with the secret stash of garlic butter in the fridge! (What? It just looked like someone had mashed up the normal butter)... the disturbing thing is I didn’t even smell it. It wasn‘t until I had that first bite that I even realized I was eating something unusual.
Right here I would like to stand by my choice of putting garlic butter on my vegemite and toast. It was the best decision I ever made. Try it, it’s quite delicious. Well, it’s ok, anyway.
So I went out with the Brazilian and ate Italian food and got to learn some Brazilian dancing. It was a little too hilarious however when the marriage proposal came. Oh yes, I am not joking, please let me take you through the conversation:
Brazilian: "That’s a nice old church isn’t it?"
Me: "Yes, do you want to confess something?"
B: "No, do you want to get married?"
Me: "Er, pft, no I’m too young"
But what I should have said was "what are you serious (he looked serious) I have known you 2 days you’re completely freaking me out, freak, and I’m going home now, ah!!!". Somehow I held back, and luckily I have the understanding that the Brazilian is now in Brazil.
Phhheewwwww
Now what else happened during my stay in London…? Ah yes, bridal shopping with Kristen. This involved going to a traditional English pub for some stodgy food before hand – possibly not the best idea when you’re going to try on dresses, but what the hey. Kristen tried on I think about 7 gowns and we came out with a clear favourite, which was absolutely gorgeous, she looked great, and I can’t wait until the actual day when she’s there with Uncy Pete, walking down the aisle… aw tear, and Mike’s there.. It was a bit like that this wedding dress shopping. Sentimental.
I would just like to say here that it’s true – there is such a thing as the Heathrow injection, though in my case, it was the Waterloo station injection… on top of those Krispy Kremes there was KFC, quiche, numerous bottles of wine, chocolates, so much bread, and cheese, delicious cheese, that I had missed all year... well except in France cheese eating capital... ok I'm a little obsessed with cheese.
Hmmm, what else of London, well there was the miserable weather, but I think I’ve covered that. There was the piercing wind… oh yes; there was the standing in line, in said weather and wind for hours at ticket booths around Piccadilly Circus hoping to get some cheap tickets to the circus… I mean theatre… well anything actually. But unfortunately unable to justify 37 pounds (cheapest ticket) on 2 hours entertainment, I gave up. I might regret it, but I hope not, anyway there was DVDs and Thai food to be had instead.
I went to the British Museum, and was reminded how annoyed I was last time I went to the British Museum that all this stuff is stolen from everywhere. No wonder the Greeks want their Pantheon back, no wonder the National Museums in Lebanon and Syria are so sparse. Grrr, for Queen and Empire my bum, for self glorification more like it. Especially depressing was the giant gate guardians to the Capital of the Assyrian Empire, one entire piece of Granite carved into a benevolent lion-man, 4 metres tall. Which having survived 2000 years and numerous hostile takeovers and extreme weather conditions and finally it was the British who decided it was a good idea to chop it into pieces to be brought to the motherland. Well, they say, it weighed 8 tonnes… there’s a reason it weighed 8 tons, so you couldn’t move it!
So that was my little whinge of the day and I should have gone to the Tate Modern instead so I could whinge about all the things they try and pass off as art these days.
Ah, so I was at Euston station, and waiting to catch the train to Oxenholme, Lakes District. When I see two disturbing things:
1) Small terrier type dog dressed in a pink sweater and doted on by it’s parents, woman and man, who even had a pram and stuff for this dog. It was highly disturbing.
2) Small terrier type of woman taking surveys on England’s rail system. It was also highly disturbing, because I always get asked to fill in surveys; they obviously don’t ever have enough of the young blond woman demographic.
This woman, ever so thoughtfully, has even graced Canberra with her presence. Most disturbingly the conversation, forced upon me after the rail survey introduction went like this:
Old survey woman: "Can you tell, I’m actually 71?!?!"
Me: (ok, act surprised, she doesn’t need to know you thought she was 90, had lost her mind and should be feeding the pigeons)… "Oh really great…"
OSW: "Yes it’s the sea kelp, keeps my hair blond"
Me: (ok, no need to tell her hair is definitely white, and also that she is spitting on your eyelids, mouth and cheeks with her sea-kelpy breath) … "oh really…"
OSW: "Yes, and it’s especially good if you dye your hair"
Me: I don’t die my hair"
OSW: "Oh good, y’know I’m doing this to help me daughter!"
Me: (where’s your daughter, why doesn’t she come and take you away and stop you from bothering innocent passengers as they try and make their way to small towns named after cattle or something like that?!) oh really…
OSW: "Yes, she calls me her number one invester, if you don’t give money to your children, then what do you spend it on, I mean I used to give it to the hungry African children, but what good is that?? I mean it’s been going on 20 years now!! And all this AIDS stuff, let me tell you I saw that coming, I keep telling my daughter this is what happens if you sleep around, and if those guys are with someone other than their wives, well what do you expect?!
Me: (Oh dear god, please beam me up Scottie right now! I’m sure it has nothing to do with the fact that you’re an old loon, the people in Africa have been poorer a lot longer than 20 years, and the whole world saw aids coming, because without education or health care there’s not a lot you can do to stop it spreading really?!?! Oh and you really don’t need to share with me the fact that your daughter is a loose woman) ... so naturally what I said was… "hhmmmm"
OSW: "Yes, I know, that’s why I never took the pill when I was younger"
Me: (Was it invented when you were pre-menopausal?) "hmmmmm"
OSW: Yes, I thought, we don’t know what this is doing to our kids?! I mean look at all these women in their 30s having fertility problems – they don’t have fertility problems in poor countries!?
Me: (No, but they have AIDS, right. Or is it something to do with the fact that they’re married at 14, and having babies the next year, and women in the first world aren’t trying to even have kids until they’re 35).. "right yeah"…
OSW: something about the labour government being in debt… blah blah blah
Me: "ok, well, thanks, right, ok, bye"
OSW: "have a safe trip back to Canberra?!?!"
Me: (I’m going to Oxenholme… unless there’s some sort of transcontinental, submarine train Australia now!) Thanks, bye, good luck.
Saturday 18 March
Well it’s been almost a week here in London and I really haven’t done much. As Kristen says, "hey you’re on holidays". Yes, I am, and it’s super freezing here. Forget anything I said about France being cold (well except maybe that day in the queue at Musee d’Orsay) here’s the wind chill factor just takes down that -2 to 2 day about -10 degrees or something, I dunno, but enough about the weather. It’s green, it’s cold, it’s England, hooray!
So I left France on another beautiful day (why is the weather always good when you’re leaving!). The Eurostar was well, a train, and sitting next to me was a wacky Brazilian. Who was talking, and talking the whole trip. Which was ok, because after limited human interaction for the last 5 days (my French really isn’t great – neither is my Portuguese but hey the Brazilian spoke English) I was willing to listen.
20 March 2006
Ok so because I am now on a train to Oxenholme (who ever heard of that before?!) and trains are great places for writing... it’s been a while since I got to London, and I didn’t really do that much, so, like me at the British Museum, you guys kind of get the highlights tour.
Also typing on the train is actually making me feel a little sick, so I apologise if at any stage I have to stop and puke all over my nice white keyboard.
I got to London, Waterloo (damn ABBA forever for creating that song I swear – once it’s in my head... Waterloo doop di dooo) and the Brazilian was still following me, under the guise of asking my cousin for directions…sure... So there was the lovely Kristen coming towards me, with Mike (her newish fiancé). I was in London, and best of all seeing my cousin.
Apparently I had forgotten how to talk English. I had to order my ticket (I don’t know – do you order tickets? Or only order fries at Maccas?) Anyway, here’s me: "single to Shepard’s Bush please"
Ticket man: "Where you bound?"
Me: "Shepard’s Bush"
TM: "Where you bound?"
Me: "I dunno, it’s like the stop after Notting Hill"
TM: "Yes, I know, three pounds please!!"
Meanwhile Kristen was standing behind me absolutely wetting her pants at me. Nice. I have discovered since that in fact most Londoners don’t speak English at all, and I am reminded of yet another musical theatre moment i.e. Rex Harrison in ‘My Fair Lady’- "Why can’t the English, learn to speak English!?!".
Oh and by the way, somehow the Brazilian was still there?! Anyway managed to lose the Brazilian by promising to "do lunch" the next day and went home to some Stir-fry (hooray for vegetables) and Krispy Kremes (evil nemesis of vegetables).
Next morning was what I’d like to term the start of ‘my holidays’ also known as lazy around. So I decided to be true to my Australian roots and seeing how I was in an (almost) English speaking country what better way to celebrate than with American TV and vegemite on toast. That would have been great if I hadn’t made the toast with the secret stash of garlic butter in the fridge! (What? It just looked like someone had mashed up the normal butter)... the disturbing thing is I didn’t even smell it. It wasn‘t until I had that first bite that I even realized I was eating something unusual.
Right here I would like to stand by my choice of putting garlic butter on my vegemite and toast. It was the best decision I ever made. Try it, it’s quite delicious. Well, it’s ok, anyway.
So I went out with the Brazilian and ate Italian food and got to learn some Brazilian dancing. It was a little too hilarious however when the marriage proposal came. Oh yes, I am not joking, please let me take you through the conversation:
Brazilian: "That’s a nice old church isn’t it?"
Me: "Yes, do you want to confess something?"
B: "No, do you want to get married?"
Me: "Er, pft, no I’m too young"
But what I should have said was "what are you serious (he looked serious) I have known you 2 days you’re completely freaking me out, freak, and I’m going home now, ah!!!". Somehow I held back, and luckily I have the understanding that the Brazilian is now in Brazil.
Phhheewwwww
Now what else happened during my stay in London…? Ah yes, bridal shopping with Kristen. This involved going to a traditional English pub for some stodgy food before hand – possibly not the best idea when you’re going to try on dresses, but what the hey. Kristen tried on I think about 7 gowns and we came out with a clear favourite, which was absolutely gorgeous, she looked great, and I can’t wait until the actual day when she’s there with Uncy Pete, walking down the aisle… aw tear, and Mike’s there.. It was a bit like that this wedding dress shopping. Sentimental.
I would just like to say here that it’s true – there is such a thing as the Heathrow injection, though in my case, it was the Waterloo station injection… on top of those Krispy Kremes there was KFC, quiche, numerous bottles of wine, chocolates, so much bread, and cheese, delicious cheese, that I had missed all year... well except in France cheese eating capital... ok I'm a little obsessed with cheese.
Hmmm, what else of London, well there was the miserable weather, but I think I’ve covered that. There was the piercing wind… oh yes; there was the standing in line, in said weather and wind for hours at ticket booths around Piccadilly Circus hoping to get some cheap tickets to the circus… I mean theatre… well anything actually. But unfortunately unable to justify 37 pounds (cheapest ticket) on 2 hours entertainment, I gave up. I might regret it, but I hope not, anyway there was DVDs and Thai food to be had instead.
I went to the British Museum, and was reminded how annoyed I was last time I went to the British Museum that all this stuff is stolen from everywhere. No wonder the Greeks want their Pantheon back, no wonder the National Museums in Lebanon and Syria are so sparse. Grrr, for Queen and Empire my bum, for self glorification more like it. Especially depressing was the giant gate guardians to the Capital of the Assyrian Empire, one entire piece of Granite carved into a benevolent lion-man, 4 metres tall. Which having survived 2000 years and numerous hostile takeovers and extreme weather conditions and finally it was the British who decided it was a good idea to chop it into pieces to be brought to the motherland. Well, they say, it weighed 8 tonnes… there’s a reason it weighed 8 tons, so you couldn’t move it!
So that was my little whinge of the day and I should have gone to the Tate Modern instead so I could whinge about all the things they try and pass off as art these days.
Ah, so I was at Euston station, and waiting to catch the train to Oxenholme, Lakes District. When I see two disturbing things:
1) Small terrier type dog dressed in a pink sweater and doted on by it’s parents, woman and man, who even had a pram and stuff for this dog. It was highly disturbing.
2) Small terrier type of woman taking surveys on England’s rail system. It was also highly disturbing, because I always get asked to fill in surveys; they obviously don’t ever have enough of the young blond woman demographic.
This woman, ever so thoughtfully, has even graced Canberra with her presence. Most disturbingly the conversation, forced upon me after the rail survey introduction went like this:
Old survey woman: "Can you tell, I’m actually 71?!?!"
Me: (ok, act surprised, she doesn’t need to know you thought she was 90, had lost her mind and should be feeding the pigeons)… "Oh really great…"
OSW: "Yes it’s the sea kelp, keeps my hair blond"
Me: (ok, no need to tell her hair is definitely white, and also that she is spitting on your eyelids, mouth and cheeks with her sea-kelpy breath) … "oh really…"
OSW: "Yes, and it’s especially good if you dye your hair"
Me: I don’t die my hair"
OSW: "Oh good, y’know I’m doing this to help me daughter!"
Me: (where’s your daughter, why doesn’t she come and take you away and stop you from bothering innocent passengers as they try and make their way to small towns named after cattle or something like that?!) oh really…
OSW: "Yes, she calls me her number one invester, if you don’t give money to your children, then what do you spend it on, I mean I used to give it to the hungry African children, but what good is that?? I mean it’s been going on 20 years now!! And all this AIDS stuff, let me tell you I saw that coming, I keep telling my daughter this is what happens if you sleep around, and if those guys are with someone other than their wives, well what do you expect?!
Me: (Oh dear god, please beam me up Scottie right now! I’m sure it has nothing to do with the fact that you’re an old loon, the people in Africa have been poorer a lot longer than 20 years, and the whole world saw aids coming, because without education or health care there’s not a lot you can do to stop it spreading really?!?! Oh and you really don’t need to share with me the fact that your daughter is a loose woman) ... so naturally what I said was… "hhmmmm"
OSW: "Yes, I know, that’s why I never took the pill when I was younger"
Me: (Was it invented when you were pre-menopausal?) "hmmmmm"
OSW: Yes, I thought, we don’t know what this is doing to our kids?! I mean look at all these women in their 30s having fertility problems – they don’t have fertility problems in poor countries!?
Me: (No, but they have AIDS, right. Or is it something to do with the fact that they’re married at 14, and having babies the next year, and women in the first world aren’t trying to even have kids until they’re 35).. "right yeah"…
OSW: something about the labour government being in debt… blah blah blah
Me: "ok, well, thanks, right, ok, bye"
OSW: "have a safe trip back to Canberra?!?!"
Me: (I’m going to Oxenholme… unless there’s some sort of transcontinental, submarine train Australia now!) Thanks, bye, good luck.
posted by Ingrid @ 5:48 AM
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