The 8:22 train stalker

I quite enjoy my morning commute into work. The train is a civilized way to travel and, being a reverse commuter, it’s much quieter. It's a lot nicer than a bus and you don't spend the morning crammed up against a strangers back, arm, chest or face like you do in the tube. I get a lovely window seat where I can watch the scenery, and catch up on some reading.
However, my mornings were ruined by a stalker on my 8:22 train. You can fairly expect that people are creatures of habit and usually sit in the same carriage, in roughly the same seat. So seeing the same few people every morning was no strange thing. Although when this man who sat diagonally to me every morning started staring just a little bit, I began to get perturbed. But not one to blow my own trumpet announcing that I am so wonderful that even strangers are infatuated with me; I decided to test it out, and then I could safely announce that Yes! I am so wonderful that even strangers are infatuated with me! I went in different carriages, walked the opposite direction to where I usually went, changed my mind at the last minute just before boarding and walked down the platform to another carriage door. No matter where I sat, I could 100% guarantee where this man would sit. I wanted to say to him, “Excuse me you weird little man, but I do not really want to be stalked at this moment in time; because a) it’s quite creepy and b) you’re a freak, so please leave me alone!”

I’ve had to start walking to the other side of the platform to get on  the very front of the train to avoid him; which isn’t so bad….it’s even quieter than the rest of the train because no one else could be bothered to walk that far! I have thankfully been stalker free for an entire week now, and hope to remain that way.  

It’s my one year anniversary!!!

Exactly one year ago today my husband and I landed in London to begin a brand new chapter in our lives. We had no definite plans and started our journey with literally the money and possessions we had on us at the time. Some days were scary, not knowing what was going to happen. There were teary phone calls back to South Africa once or twice. Looking for work felt like a full time job in itself. Will and I sometimes only had each other to fall back on. But despite the bumps in the road, it has been the most exciting thing we have ever done; we have enjoyed every moment, and it has made us closer and our relationship stronger. It has taken a while to feel settled in; but it has somehow always felt like home here. God has constantly been there laying out each next step for us to take. It’s still an exciting journey and we can’t wait to see what happens next. I can’t quite believe it’s been a year already as I still feel like a newbie. But I think it’s safe to say that we have officially passed the newbie mark and are now meeting people who we can pass on our wisdom to (however miniscule that might be). We celebrated the momentous occasion with a bottle of wine at the park in this unnaturally balmy weather. And may I take this opportunity to say - To all you Brits out there, I really love your country!

Goodbye Summer

Autumn is sneaking up on us. I can’t say I’m too upset by this as I loved London in winter; and am hoping it will snow again this year! Might I be the only person with this wish?

However, yesterday was a positively balmy 24 degrees and most of England was taking advantage of the last days of summer. We went across the road to Clapham Common which was brimful with happy sun worshipers. There were the young families, the group of ladies doing a team building exercise with the well built ‘trainer’, the lads playing cricket with their tops off trying to impress the group of girls close by, the group of girls totally oblivious to the young men as they were caught up in girly natter, and my hubby and me with a bottle of wine and our books; secretly people watching instead of reading. It was a lovely day; although I feel we really must invest in a picnic blanket as rocking up to the park with my bright pink bath towel just looks uncool…..

A Great British tradition

I am discovering the joys of one of Britain’s best loved past times….Dr Who.

It took me a while to come around, but due to a persistent husband who got all the episodes, I succumbed and have happily shared in the British institution that is Dr Who. I had never heard of the show before moving here; but I’m amused at how much it is part of the British consciousness.

In the office the other day I heard my colleague saying to someone over the phone, “You sound like a Dalek,” when referring to the bad connection. When watching a house hunting program (another much loved British past time) the presenter commented on how the house was a veritable Tardis, as it was bigger on the inside than it had seemed on the outside.

The effects are low budget, the story lines are far-fetched; Dr Who is like an intergalactic James Bond who can get himself out of any situation and save the world, but it’s fantastically enjoyable. Needless to say I am really looking forward to the start of the new series this weekend. Although I do miss David Tennant….

London's burning

As the dust settles from the riots, a country is left in shock, disgust and anger.

When I first heard news reporting on the riots in London, I kept asking my husband why they were rioting. He didn’t know, and as I continued watching the BBC news report, I realized that no one was sure why these riots were breaking out and spreading. This is what makes these actions even more detestable. One rioter being interviewed said it was against the police, yet none of these atrocities have been aimed at the police. The people who have suffered are the normal working class citizens who have worked hard for what they have. One newspaper article told of a man whose off license shop was looted and burnt to the ground. He now only had 25p to his name and a family to support. It is no surprise that the people of England are enraged by these selfish, greedy, repulsive yobs.

On Monday night, my husband and I walked home together from Clapham Junction station and evidently just missed the riots that took place there; devastating the streets we know so well. The next morning I had to walk the 45min journey to the station as no busses were on route to go there. There was an eerie, empty feeling in Clapham as onlookers gaped at the wreckage of the high street. 

Clapham high street

 

The party shop that burnt down, which ironically donated some of it's profit to help the less fortunate

The question that I want to ask is where are the parents in all this? How can they let their kids go around with no regard or respect for others. How has a generation emerged that has no discipline and again has no respect for authority? We live in a place where teachers and parents have no power or authority over these kids for fear of the law coming down on them. How did things get so screwed up?

I believe that respect is first learnt at home. It seems that these kids are learning quite the opposite. I don’t believe it’s the circumstances that they are in, or the fact that they are brought up on council estates (which have emerged as reasons for these horrid events). There are many young kids out there not taking place in these riots, or similar criminal behavior, who are from the same backgrounds. I do believe that a country whose churches are mostly empty has resulted in a society where money and material possessions have become their gods.

The one good thing that has come from this is the sense of a nation pulling together. My husband went down to help clean up the streets of Clapham the next morning. Hundreds of people had turned up to help. There was a beautiful spirit of community as shops brought food and drink out to the volunteers. We only hope now that the government will recognize these real problems with the youth of this country and things will start to change.

I’m a Londoner

It’s so nice to have family visiting! My in-laws are here from South Africa. It was lovely showing them our little haunts. I found, however, that the visit did expose me for the pushy little Londoner I have become. It is shameful to admit, but I have been known to get on the tube before letting the other passengers off, and tutting to myself when the map wielding tourists are dawdling in front of me, breaking my speed walking momentum. I wasn’t always like this. I was utterly intimidated during my first weekend in London. The tube map looked like an undecipherable maze I was bound to get lost on; everyone seemed to know exactly where they were going and if you got in their way they simply pushed you aside; I had never used public transport before in my life and wondered how I would ever figure out exactly which bus to get on. I remember sitting on the bus on that first weekend and watching a woman run toward the stop so she could catch her bus. Horrified, I turned to my husband and remarked, “I will NEVER run to catch a bus, how embarrassing!” Oh how naïve of me!

I am a fast learner. When it’s cold and you’ve had to wait at the bus stop for over 20 minutes (because the busses are rarely on time in London), simply because you missed your bus; you will be very sure to run to catch it if you see it coming before you’ve reached the stop. You don’t care what you’re carrying; you don’t care that the boots you are wearing have heels; you don’t care that you have to hitch up your knee length jacket so you can get a good stride. When you see bus 164 turning the corner, you run as if the spirit of Usain Bolt has come upon you, regardless of who’s looking.

I was also unaware of the amount of walking I was to do in my new country of residence. Back home in S.A we had friends from England who had invited us one night to go out for dinner. We met at their house and they revealed that the restaurant was only 10 minutes away and suggested we walk.

Walk?! Walk? Why on earth would we walk when we could simply get in the car? Plus it was dark outside; who knew what dangers lay behind the blackened bushes. I looked at my husband beseechingly. Surely he would agree with me.

“Sure,” he said to the group, “let’s walk!” The traitor.

It must be known that I now walk, a lot. Why pay £1.30 to go a couple of blocks when you can take a stroll. After work we all make our way to the South Kensington station. When I first got here I could hardly keep up, almost out of breath at our destination. But now I’m just as speedy as the rest. Being a Londoner certainly does change you!

These posters can be seen in the tube stations. They're a good chuckle to read.

           

Two Museums and a Free Concert

If you don’t like London then stop reading right now because I am IN LOVE with this city! What I love most is that by simply wandering around you are likely to stumble across something interesting, beautiful or entertaining; and the best part is you can do it for free most of the time.

There was a Street Photography exhibition at the Museum of London that I wanted to have a look at.It was absolutely fascinating; chronicling the history of street photography in London from 1860 to the present; with photos from the past of the streets I had just been walking along. It was interesting to see the same scenes we observe today, only with different clothes and hairstyles; the rebellious teens, mothers with prams stopped on the pavement having a gossip, nattering grannies. After the exhibition we weren’t quite ready to go home and thought we’d find somewhere for lunch and wander around a bit. We spotted a church that turned out to be St Clement Danes Church (as in “Oranges and Lemons” say the bells of St Clement’s). There was a brass band inside that was giving a free concert. It was beautiful to listen to and I felt so lucky. We ended our day at the National Gallery browsing the many paintings. And THAT is why I love it here. I had such a charming day full of beauty and culture! As always we took some pictures!

I love these daily inspirations as you enter the tube station!!!

Monument outside St Pauls Cathedral

St Pauls peeking from behind a tree

Don't know what this was, but it looked pretty

Having a break

History lesson about the Cathedral

One of the entrances

The front entrance with Queen Anne striking a pose

Traditional Sweet shop

The ORIGINAL sandwich place!

I loved the entrance to the Twinings tea shop.

Flash Dance

I have come to the conclusion that everyone secretly wishes they lived in a musical. You may disagree, but next time you are caught in a flash mob sing-a-long; accompanied by easy to follow dance moves, have a look around you and you will notice everyone is smiling; some may even be bopping to the beat, wanting to join in. People love it! I feel breaking into song in the middle of the day would make us all happier people! A collective song and dance on the tube ride home would be fun…

I saw my first flash mob in Trafalgar Square a couple of days ago; complete with trumpet players and everything. It was great fun to be caught by surprise by the sudden music traveling along the Square; everyone wondering what’s happening. And you guessed it; a camera was at the ready! Also included my favourite flash mob from YouTube. Just try stop yourself from singing along!

                                                                                                                                           

A walk in the Park

I woke up feeling a little blue the other day. There is a point when the honeymoon phase of living in a new country disappears. We begin to get up at the same time, take the same route to work every day and the familiarity of routine becomes mundane. So my husband and I decided to go for a walk in the park. We went through Green Park and then found a spot under a tree in St James’ Park. We brought our books and I brought my notebook to do some writing; and enjoyed watching all the people pass me by. It was at this point that I felt a cup of take-away coffee would complete this movie like scene. I suggested this to my husband. There was a café close by.

“Would you like me to go get you some?” he asked.

“I bet it’ll be too expensive. Don’t worry.”

“Are you sure, I can go get you some?”

“No it’s fine.” I decided it was an unnecessary expense as coffee always smells better than it tastes and I often prefer the thought of a cup of coffee than the actual drink itself. I blame television for this.

After enough time had elapsed for my husband to get completely immersed in his book again I said, “Maybe you could just go see how much it costs.”

Have I mentioned he is a very patient man?

He called me from the café to let me know his coffee pricing discoveries.

“You really shouldn’t call me like this,” I said. “I’m here with my husband. He might catch me talking to you.” He laughed. He had to; it’s in the marriage contract. We like to play silly games.

I was right; the coffee was a little over priced - on account of all the tourists I should imagine. He returned empty handed and we continued reading and people watching. I decided to make myself some coffee when we got home.

We ended the day eating pies on the stairs of Trafalgar Square with Big Ben in front of me (my most favourite London landmark).  I had one of the many moments I have here where I can’t actually believe I’m in London; and I was reminded why we moved here. Going to work the next day I wasn’t feeling so blue anymore.

We took our camera with to the park and took some pictures. Here’s what we saw…..

How cute are these chairs. I thought they looked like a scene from the 1930's or something. You did have to pay to sit on them though.  

We went to have a cuppa with the Queen but she wasn't in. Oh well, maybe next time...

Yeah baby!!!!!!!

This little squirrel was super friendly, although he was being coaxed with food. 

Some boys fetched a ball out the water and were drying their socks. I thought it made a cute shot....

All in all a very good day.

No Fear

I went for a walk in Clapham Common today….just because I can. An hour and a half walk….just because I can! I don’t like to run my country of birth down, but there is something so freeing in the fact that I can go for a walk on my own without any fear. I will be the first to say that life in London isn’t necessarily better, it’s just different. Like being able to go for fear free strolls. And public transport. Getting used to public transport has been fun.

My favourite comedian, Michael McIntyre, does a stand-up skit about tube transportation in London, in particular telling of a commuter who, in desperation to get onto the carriage, took numerous hits by the closing doors before squeezing his way onto an already full train. Hilarious stuff. Even more hilarious when you actually witness it in person. How desperate are you to get onto the carriage? Being late for work I can tell you that you can be extremely desperate. As you stand on the platform and edge closer to the front of the crowd; you secretly declare that no matter what, you ARE getting on the next tube. Once you have crammed on, safe in the knowledge that no one else could POSSIBLY fit in; the train stops at the next station and another 3 people push their way in; having probably made the same declaration as you.

One such morning I was on the Northern line; inappropriately invading several commuters’ personal space next to me. Even more people boarded at the next station, taking mine and my neighbors relationship to the next level. At the stop just before mine my lunch packet took a brutal beating as several people pushed their way past me to exit. One lady decided she had enjoyed me in her personal space and wanted to take my arm with her. I was flattered, but I declined and retrieved my arm with my now torn lunch packet. And even more people had boarded the train. Next station was my stop. I turned toward the door announcing to those around me that I planned to get off soon. They didn’t seem to notice. In fact when the doors opened and I even said “Excuse me” no one noticed. Panic set in. I was already at risk of being late for work and didn’t want the doors closing and having to make my way back from the next station. So I did what every other Londoner does. I pushed….aggressively.

I made it to work on time, but have now developed an intense dislike for the Northern Line. And I lost my yogurt.

I took the bus home.

Speaking of living in no fear; I just let a very cute little man in the flat who wanted to check our boiler. I’m not alone in the house, so if I go down my oblivious flat mate is going down with me. He had a round face, and a lisp; how bad could he be? And he has all the genuine boiler gadgets, and definitely seemed to be doing boiler specific things. Aright I’ll admit that letting strange men into the flat is not a good idea, and maybe next time I should first ask for some boiler-man credentials. The lisp must have thrown me off….