More from Little ol’ London
My Monday started with emails and blogs from the East. First there's my cousin's daughter who is spending a year in Korea as an exchange student and is documenting her experiences in a blog. And then there's my dear friend from my DC days is sending emails from China where he and is wife are travelling around for a few weeks. In addition, another DC day's friend sent an email last week accounting for her first week working for the State department in a Mexican border town. Between the three of them and their amazing adventures, it's sparked a cord for my own passion for excitement and new expierences. Although my country isn't a 3rd world nation or as culturally diverse as Korea, China or Mexico, England does have it's interesting bits that are worth sharing. So I plan to use this space to share more than just a cheesecake recipe or latest IT ideas. I'll jazz it up a bit with some real life experiences. Stories of a diverse city and my diverse friends. Just Saturday night I went to the flicks with my friend Catherine. She's a Welshie who is assistant director for a children's program called "Pokeman". We met at a Waterstone's bar in Picadilly. It's the perfect meeting place because the shop has 6 floors of books to sift through while you wait on your friend (someone is ALWAYS late in this city of poor transport). There's a bar on the 5th floor with great sunset views over the city. The last time we met at that bookshop was 4 years ago when we were planning a 3 week trip together. We gathered a handful of travel guides to a variety of places and settled into the bar to decide which looked best. We finally agreed on Viet Nam. That was a world ago for the both of us. Since that trip, she has a little girl and I'm a married woman. So much has changed in a blink of an eye, it was another sign that I should get back to documenting some of the highlights. From the bookshop we made our way through Chinatown. On a Saturday night that place is full of life as bright as the neon lights shinging from all the dim-sum shops. We saw the wonderful Argentian film called "Bonbon" about a darling man and his dog. HIGHLY recommended! It was the first time either of us had been to the flicks in well over a year. I guess it's not something we can fit into our new lives so easily. We came out blurry eyed and sleepy to streets that were just getting going for a Saturday night. But for us, it was time to go home. The trains only run until about midnight in this city that "never" sleeps. So I had to hussle to Waterloo and catch my train back to the 'burbs. Appearently we bumped into one of the "Big Brother" contestants as we hussled to the tube stops. I would have never known, but Catherine being in telly can spot these things a mile away. It made me wonder how many other famous people I bump into here without a clue as to who they are. Not that it really matters. I'm not much into people who become famous without talent. My train to the burbs only takes about a half an hour. At 11pm it's filled with all sorts of lively entertainment as the pubs close at that time and all the youth are liquored to the gills making great fools of themselves. The "chavs" as they call them (boys with greased or gelled hair, track suits, and bad accents) are the most entaining. A group of three got on at the 3rd stop. Drunk and bragging about all the "birds" (girls) they could bag (but very much going home alone), they most likely are sons of doctors and lawyers trying to look like gansters. Then a couple "birds" got on and they knew these chaps. It all got rather facinating as I watched these kids no older than my nephew Nick talk as if they're pimp daddy's in a bling mobile. Its amazing how in just two generations this country somehow managed to go from being so dignified and refined to being imbarassingly rude and obnoxious. It's as if it's now cool to being lower class rather than prove you're educated. But should it surprise me as this is the same country who invented trains and now can't even run them…so I thought as my train remained stuck at my second to last stop. I finally made it to my stop in sleepy Teddington with it's quiet streets (outside of the random scooter flying down the road). I made my way home thankful to be away from the pulse and grime of central London. The next day…house hunting in the most expensive areas in the world. Oh joy.
