Regrouping: Consolidating London

Hello all and welcome back!

It's been ages since my last post but that's because I had no free internet and to be perfectly honest very little time. But I think it's nec

essary to keep this blog thing going for all our sakes! Right now I'm listening to the slightly kitsch and dirtily spun guitar licks of 'Spoon' in Tim's (very tasteful) cousin Ian and his lovely wife Danielle's londonesque house in the district of Croydon, south of the buzzing capital where I have been embroiled since I got here. 

So I left off sat night, before bed. Apparently in Stockholm there is no such thing as dressing for the cold, there are only good looks or the tasteless. This principle was demonstrated soundly by countless Swede femmes as they strode powerfully down the snow lined streets in skirts that looked more like a strip of gaff tape they were so thin. I swear they all have some kind of cold resistant viking blood or something. 

That following morning, I said my goodbyes to Farhad and Manijeh who sent me off with plenty of chocolate (the last of which I finished yesterday in a feat of self control). So I travelled first class next to a Swede nearing the end of her four year psychology degree who loved the rock and roll bands of the 70's, like me, and so first class didn't turn out to be as cold and isolated as I imagined. And she even pointed out that the man whose hair I thought was terrible (the result of a horrendous attempt at covering the thinner areas with a few greasy strands of existing patches) was even a famous Swedish film star. that was pretty ahsome.

Ok so I made it back to Lund. Mitra told me with a great hug that she would miss me. I wasn't suprised, but I was enamored all the same. But seriously I would miss them all so much, especially because I was facing bad showers, expensive accomodation, names with easy pronunciation, and most of all complete independance ahead of me. But we have to keep

 moving don't we! So Amir and I went back to Malmo for another photo run and saw the city by light of night. We talked and drove around before calling it a night. I packed, booked the following day's accomodation at the cheapest hostel, which turned out to be very cheap. £4 a night actually, and I wouldn't have payed a pence more!

This is one wing of the castle in Malmo

So the first plane afforded a long talk with an American expatriate who was traveling home from Denmark for christmas. The next trip from Amsterdam to London I sat next to a brit fresh from the streets of the famous city (who was still stoned and complained endlessly about his window seat) and a businessmen. Between their tips, I lined up the next couple of day's destinations. 

A shot from the plane over Denmark

That night, I got to the hostel, had Indian at brick lane and saw four indie bands play at '93 feet east' which was awesome. Mmmm hostel provided breakfast. That day I went to Shepherd's bush Westfield to buy 'watchmen', which turned out to be very addictive. Suffice it to say it was finished by the following night. And I've been scouring the internet today for hints of the movie being released about it. 

This is the last and best band at the gig who were called the 'shortwave set' and sounded like the lovechild of air and angus and julia

Who would have thought?

 So I hit South Kensington, got lunch out and inevitably ended up at a pub. My average has been just over one pub a day since I got here, never the same one. Talked to the regulars and that, asking for the most recommended beer. Bishop's finger it was today, which sounds like it wouldn't sell too well in Australia considering the disreputable history of said name. But it sure was nice, and I felt that little bit closer to the gritty culture of London. I walked (literally) all through Hyde park, to the Albert memorial, the street overshadowed by embassy after embassy, past the Kensington palaces and Princess Diana's memorial garden. That was moving. I found it hard to get pictures though because of all the people. Bloody tourists.

One of the well placed but not high quality coffee houses in London

A church nestled among houses in South Kensington

A mad angle in Shepherd's bush station

A street end near the pub I stopped by one day

The lake in Hyde Park

Near the Prince Albert memorial from Hyde Park

I think this was the French embassy? The flag was obscured

Indian ensued, which is the cheapest way to eat out and I went looking for a nice jazz joint I found the previous night with a Danish girl who also had nothing planned. The next day I had to book another night at the hostel because of Tim's hiccup which reverberated across England, in fact causing a hiccup for me also. But I had a great day with Maria the Danish girl. We went to Marble arch first, then to the three musuems south of Hyde. First was the natural museum, then we took a coffee break (I read some more of 'watchmen') then it was the science museum and we were too tired for another. Museums are notoriously tiring! so we walked up to Hyde park corner and had dinner at a pub with some smooth beer to celebrate the day. I read the graphic novel until end and then slept so I could wake up early enough for tim's arrival. 

The interior of the natural history museum. wow.

At the station, 0500 hours, I learned painfully that the tube doesn't open till 0530. oh well! We define our existance by suffering, and by extension any 'hiccup' we run into makes the trip infinitely more memorable. So after hours crawled by in the scalding cold, I find myself in a much needed and indisputably manly embrace fresh from Oz. I laughed so much yesterday! just like a minute had passed since we were back home. So we began what was a very difficult day and hauled our packs into the trains towards Victoria station, hoping to find cheap storage for them. But, nothing is cheap. It was £6.50 for ONE item for a couple of hours. So we manned up and lugged them back onto our shoulders. It wasn't long before I was calling nat desperately to ask if we could dump our gear at her place, but she said we could just leave them at her work, which was mad. So we staggered around King's cross with these immense weights upon our backs, my spine slowly deforming until an x ray would have indicated it now resembles a question mark. But Tim and I had a ridiculously smooth and tasty ale at a pub near nat's work that made up for it all and then some. So we unloaded our stuff, and had lunch with nat, who knows a lot about w'gong gossip considering her geographical distance. 

Then Tim and I went to St Paul's, which at dusk looks very different. We walked due south from the spectacular monument towards tate modern, the lights of this vibrant city trembling across the river thames. The Rothco displays in tate cost like £15, so we said 'to hell with art who wants to look at that minimalist shi- anyway' and straddled the river towards the west. In the riverside tunnels were many troupes of muscicians many of whom had accordians which was really welcome to our dejected ears. Then we saw the eye, like a ring of technicolour spinning slowly in the thin air above the south side. We walked around, bathed in neon, and found our way into waterlo tube. Then, we picked up our massive bags and bought tickets to get to Croydon, our current locale. Poor timmy needed rest, so we had pasta so good it made me wonder if I had died and been ressurrected as an Italian heir.

The minstrels who played for Timqth and I

Then we awoke groggily, found out we could save £20 on our eurostar ticket via our eurail passes, booked them, booked tickets to a first division soccer game on sat (oh. yeah.) which is right near the field. Tonight we're going out with nato, tomorrow is porto bello road and my cousin bel and craig her husband at some point then pub before match. sun we're going to head to bath and stay somewhere outside of london for a night I think, then to Paris on tuesday. 

Well well well! that's all people! talk soon hopefully sooner than 5 days because this post was long!

kiss and hug (optional)

The wonder-ale that we downed near nat's work, opposite a preschool. No wonder why the beer culture is so ingrained in London, they're conditioned.