Strangers On A Train

Since moving to London, I've learned that it's very easy to become isolated in the hustle and bustle of the big city. People move about their own lives completely separately from one another - those stereotypical images that can be conjured of a completely chock-a-block rush-hour tube train trundling under the city in complete silence could not be closer to the truth. A city of strangers, where if you don't know anyone, then it's really very hard to meet anyone.

Saying this, however, there have been a couple of times when, completely by accident and often in an alcohol mist, I've made momentary friends on my way back home. 

The first time this happened, I was on the tube on the way home from the pub (as per) and was ill-fatedly trying to spark up a conversation with the guy next to me. The couple sat opposite me joined in with the one-way conversation I was having with this man out of pity and when he got off the train, where I suspect he stood and waited for the next one (he was clearly not Notting Hill material), we continued to talk. We went on to chat about how I was finding it hard to meet people and it turned out that they had too when the first moved to the big smoke. Now, I'm not sure how this happened, but we swapped numbers and they said that they were having a gathering with some friends to chat and eat chilli and that I was perfectly welcome to join. Figuring this was a drunken offer, I said thanks and got off the train, enjoying the fact that I'd had a nice long chat with some very nice people (unless you hadn't noticed, I do like to chat). I woke up the next day to a slightly queasy feeling and a text from Sarah and Carlos, my new-found tube buddies, assuring me that their offer was genuine and I was very welcome to go and chill at their house! Without further ado, I frequented Tesco, where I bought some cider and headed over to their flat. Now, I know what you're going to say - they could have been axe-murderers or gangsters or complete psychopaths and I shouldn't have gone, right? I did consider this but then again, if you don't take these opportunities when they are given to you, how will you ever know? After all, strangers are just friends that you haven't made yet! As it turns out, they are a couple of lovely people, who make excellent chilli, have really nice friends and make great conversation. I stayed all afternoon and although I haven't yet seen them since, I really hope that I will soon.

On another, more recent occasion, I was once again en route back to my house from the pub, this time on the phone to my Dad having a slight existential crisis. Pizza in hand and phone to my ear, I exclaimed to my Dad in a over-dramatic way that 'I just want to write!' with a sweeping arm and an exasperated sigh. Just as I said this, along stumbles a tall, bespectacled man shouting 'ME TOO! I graduated with a degree in Journalism three years ago and what am I doing now? I'm a teaching assistant on minimum wage!'. Feeling that we may have been drunken kindred spirits, I said goodbye to my Dad and had a crazy chat with the guy, who decided that we were soul mates and we had to swap numbers (I was a little wary until he explained that it was fine, he wouldn't stalk me as her was gay and his boyfriend would have issues). Sadly, I haven't spoken to him since, but it was fun whilst it lasted.

It's funny how, in such a cold city where it's an unwritten rule that speaking to others on public transport is punishable by being labeled as unstable, you can have a chat in the middle of the night with complete strangers and find out that you're not so alone after all. Traveling back to your house by bus after the tube closes doesn't have to spell complete silence - from a chat to a bin man to a bitch with a Portuguese woman about how you despair of having to take 3 different buses, you're not quite as alone as you think.

(On a side note, I do know that this is a slightly dangerous way to go about making friends - this city certainly has it's fair share of weirdos, creeps and drug addicts. I am always cautious, don't you worry my dearest worrying friends and family!)

I suppose what I'm trying to say is, sometimes you have to break from conventions and rules and just start a conversation with someone - otherwise, we will all continue to float around in our separate bubbles, unaware that the person sitting right next to us just might be our new BFF.

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3 months in London and the Bumpkin thinks she's a Londoner. Psh.

Ok, so this almost turned out to be an intense and cliche-driven blog post, but then I decided, especially since this is the first blog post after a bit of a lengthy absence, not to do that. Instead, I have decided to be chirpy and informative - much more readable I think.

So what have you been doing with yourself over the last few months, I hear you cry (OK, quietly inquire perhaps?). Well. It's been eventful. Since so much has happened with me keeping my lips buttoned, I'll give you a brief idea of what I have been up to;

If you are in need of a bit of a geek-out, visit the Grant Museum of Zoology like we did. Not if you're squeamish though. Not at all. Lots of dead stuff. Otherwise: fascinating in a crazy Victorian specimen collection kind of a way. Probs deserved it's own blog post. Didn't get one though.

I fulfilled a bit of a longtime ambition whereby I donned a Gryffindor scarf and foot-popped whilst pretending to be entering Platform 9 3/4 - I was very much disappointed to find that the combination of these factors didn't culminate in my ability to actually attend Hogwarts.

I found Jesus on the Central Line. That is definitely what happened. He looked like he was having a bad day.

St James Park - go here if you are feeling a bit overwhelmed by the grey-ness that London oftentimes emits.

My friend Ory and I, after not being able to find the Shard(?!) went to the very top and took several selfies. Bit expensive but worth a trip for a different perspective on London.

I have had a great influx of some of my favorite people in the world come and visit me in London, which as you can imagine, has been marvelous and magnificent.

This market is devine. It's full to the brim with fantastic food including some of THE BEST pulled pork I've ever had. And I do love pulled pork. And before you say anything, I know I cut the 'B' off at the top. Don't judge me.

I've also spent much of my time hanging out with this woman, drinking innocent hot drinks such as this but we have also enjoyed copious amounts of cocktails too. Her new boyfriend and his friends have also been somewhat of a (very multinational) revelation.

This month I went to two of the best known department stores in London - Liberty of London (check out the documentary on Channel 4 - awesome)and Harrods. My gorgeous Jersey friend Kelsi and I (and later Georgia) pretended to be poshos and try to appear as if we could afford to do our weekly shop in the Harrods food hall and purchase every designer scarf in the Liberty scarf hall. Not sure we pulled it off all that well.

Most recently, I have been indulging in the Christmas spirit, getting on it with the mulled at the Winchester Christmas Market and admiring the lights at Covent Garden.

Whew! It's been quite the whirlwind few months. London has so much to offer and I intend to do and see as much of it as humanly and financially possible whilst I'm here.

Well I hope that that was a satisfactory round-up and you won't hate me too much for not writing for 3 WHOLE MONTHS. OK, I would judge me too to be fair.

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A Life Change.

Hey everyone!I know that I've been a little (i.e. A LOT) neglectful of you of late which I can assure you is not without reason. So, a little thing happened, whereby I MOVED TO LONDON!

This is literally the biggest adventure of my life and it's one that I'm so so excited about. After spending a year at home living with my parents in good ol' Wiltshire, I've finally flown the comfortable nest (for the second time)and found myself in the big smoke. It's a massive deal for me and I really hope that it's a decision that I will never regret!

Just over a week ago my lovely parents drove me and most of my worldly possessions away from the countryside and my friends and my dog and helped me set up my life in my new house in west London. I now live with two other girls, one from Hong Kong and one from Poland. My landlady lives downstairs and is also a good egg. I have my first ever double bed (yes I did starfish) and my room is beautiful;

     

I can tell you, finding this room was not without it's stress. About a week before I was due to start my job, I was on the brink of having to sofa-surf. I decided to go house hunting with my Dad on the Saturday a week previously on the very edge of panic - I had 0 time. Through a combination of pure luck and blaggyness, this room was the first I viewed. Needless to say I was relieved. Crazy days.

Anyways, back to last weekend, saying goodbye to my parents was quite emosh and as they drove off it dawned on me that I was going to have to be independent again. Also that aside from Jess and a couple of other assorted uni peeps, I knew no-one in this giant city. It was a relief to find out that my landlady was is an avid X Factor fan and that I was quite welcome to watch it with her downstairs. This was made an even bigger relief because, not only could I do with the company at this point, but also I forgot the power lead to my TV. 

On Sunday I mooched around sorting out the remained of my things and registering my Oyster card (who even knew that you had to do that?! Not me). Turns out that my section of the underground was closed, including my tube station and the overground station. Buggeration. I ended up getting a surprisingly efficient bus replacement service to Shepherds Bush in order to sort it all out. And since you know, it would be rude not to, I had a bit of a peruse around Westfields Shopping Centre. I had to really.

After that, I went home and started to have those pre-new-job-I'm-shitting-myself kinda nerves. Despite my amazing bed, I slept really very badly thinking about meeting my new workmates and starting my PR career. Scary.

After my first commute with my Metro, during which I felt very professional and commuter-ish, I got off at Covent Garden and went forth to meet everyone. Turns out, all the worry was for nothing - my new colleagues at Fire PR are all so lovely and put me straight at ease. I spent the day doing all of those first day adminy type things. I got my shiny work iphone 5 (?!), familiarising myself with the clients and all of that other new-person stuff. 

After work I went to meet the bestie for cocktails in Soho (oh have very metropolitan of us)  and en-route I walked past the comedian Steven Mangan (you know, as you do). Having a chinwag and a catch up was an ideal way to spend my first working evening in London.

The next couple of days were a whirlwind of press calls, pitching and learning learning learning. On Tuesday I called America and I saw Dr Adam Trueman from Casualty. On Wednesday I went on an impromptu mission to Canary Wharf, where I felt very small...

Before I knew it, it was Friday night and my first working week was over. To celebrate, Jess and I went out for dins at Strada in Soho.

Jess and her standard chicken rissotto

Ice cream, espresso and Amaretto - what more could you want from a dessert?!  

After this we were going to go and watch 'About Time'. We ventured out to the Everyman Cinema in Maida Vale, which is a really lovely art-house cinema with sofas instead of normal seats. However, us being us, we were late and we would have have to have sat in the front row and for £14.50 each, this was just not going to happen. Instead we went to the Tesco garage and bought a bottle of wine and went back to her flat (after first getting lost). Standard.

The next day I decided to gatecrash Jess's uni-friend gathering and hung out on the Southbank for the afternoon.

The beautiful and unexpected rooftop garden on the South Bank Center

Needless to say, I've had a pretty crazy/scary/amazing week, I've met some great people and I really hope for it to continue! Although I know I'm going to miss my family, friends, dog and beautiful countryside back home, I'm really excited to have finally started my career in PR. Bring it on London-bebs.

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Cannes - Trains, Planes and Automobiles (and Buses)

29th July 2013 (I know I know, I'm a bit late)

BRRRRRRBRRRRRRRRRRRRBRRRRRRRRRRBRRRRRRRRR

It's 1.30am in the morning and that is the sound of my phone alarm across the room. Having had approximately 3.5 hours of sleep, it's time to get up, because, you know, flights and that.

At 2.30am, Jess and I were on our way to Gatwick Airport to board our 6.30am (or so we thought) flight to Nice (ta Jess's Mum!). Upon arrival, we joint the giant queue for Easyjet Bag Drop-Off and it was at this point we realized that our fight was at 5 past 6. Drama. Having successfully dropped off our bags as the above suggests, we rushed through security, only to realize that we had 0 time to do the necessary flight prep, ie brecky and Vodka purchasing. Instead we had to jog along the travalators (moving pavement my arse) all the way to the gate without so much as a sniff around duty free. 

When we eventually made it to the gate, we found that we had enough time to purchase THE MOST EXPENSIVE BREAKFAST EVER from Wetherspoons before we boarded our flight. Panic over.

When we arrived in Nice, it was raining. Really. There was actually a thunderstorm.

I know we appear to be smiling - however, it was raining so we were sad. 

After a short bus ride to Nice Train Station, we had our second small travel kerfuff of the day. Turns out, train stations in the south of France aren't very well organised. After trying (and failing) to work out the French-language-only ticket machine, we went to the ticket office. We asked the man if there was a later train than the one departing in 10 minutes and he shrugged. Yep. Sat there in front of his computer, which I assume would divulge this knowledge if he asked, he chose to instead sit there looking bemused about our predicament. Caving in, we went to the platform.

At the platform was a train. Next to the train was a sign which announced that the train on the platform was the 9.45 train to Cannes and the next one was to Bordeaux. It was 11 o'clock. Not knowing what else to do we got on the train and hoped for the best.

45 minutes later, we were in Cannes. Once we were outside the station, we realized that we had a distinct lack of map and found a deeply unhelpful one outside the station. Shrugging and ploughing on, we grabbed a coke and went searching for our apartment. 

Our apartment(Suite Affaire)was by the harbour, which was filled to the brim with giant yachts, as you would expect in a classy place like Cannes.

First things first, we headed out for cocktails at the small bar called 'The Melting Pot' - start as we mean to go on and all that.

We then decided to go and search for a supermarket - this actually turned out harder than first anticipated and it took us about an hour and several car near misses (on my part) and lots of 'Ou est le Supermarche' before we eventually realized that the supermarket was above a clothes shop - who knew!

We stocked up on Vodka and food (in that order) and struggled with it back to the apartment. 

After rustling up a small feast with our food purchases, we decided to head to the beach to have ice cream and soft drinks (we so hardcore).

And so endeth a very long day of traveling. After this we headed back to the apartment and got some well deserved (in my opinion) shut-eye. 

To stop this becoming a very long winded blog post and you thinking f-this, I'm gonna go and and do something constructive with my time, I will pause this adventure story here. Feel free to return and continue on this holiday quest with Jess and I!

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Madrid - Getting Totally Cultured.

When the sun rose on the third day, the glittering, storm soaked pavements from the night before were all but myth (watching the Madrid residents try to drive in the rain made me chuckle somewhat). Alas another sunny and crazy-hot day was upon us. We packed up our belongings (boo) and took them down to reception for them to store away.

Today was the day that I was going to get cultured, learn to love modern art and get some enthusiasm for all things Picasso. Today was the day that Jai and I were going to visit the very famous (?) Reina Sofia Art Gallery and I would apparently learn not to be a philistine. 

So off we went. Since the queue for the Salvador Dali exhibit was around about 8 miles long, we took the decision to skip that and just have a nosy around the rest. After paying for us both (since I was, by this point, penniless, all thanks to petty crime) Jai led me into the gallery. I was, at this point, still feeling fairly skeptical.

OK, so a lot of the gallery was VERY STRANGE INDEED. Here are some of things that stood out to me as being particularly pointless/ hilarious:

'nuff said,

Plain red canvas anyone?

Pretty sure that this looks like some kind of kinky swing gone wrong...

Oh My Word. This painted ceramic man scared the bejesus out of me!

Bit of a nimble way to transport your bike!... not gonna lie - I kinda like this one!

Casual blue mustache pubes and scary pointy boobies!

Saying all of this, however, it was quite exciting to see some very famous Picasso paintings, including the 'Guernica' and there were a couple of things I actually genuinely liked. I'm not saying that I fully understood the artistic intent or whatever, but these were just quite nice to look at.

British Gas advert anyone?

Under The Sea - although sadly lacking Ariel and Sebastian

Once we had trekked around all 4 floors of the gallery, we decided to get lunch and then head to Buen Retiro Park, one of the largest parks in the city. Aside from the horrific prices for drinks and ice creams (€3 for a bottle of water! Man alive) it was really rather beautiful, with its fountains and boating lake and statues! 

It also contained (much to Jai's enjoyment) a couple of buildings housing some more art - this time temporary installations. I have to say, I did enjoy and understand these slightly more.

I think maybe I liked this one because I got to pretend I was Rose off of Titanic

Some, however, I did not.

After this, virtually penniless, we headed to Madrid Airport on the Metro. Quick bit of advice - if you decide to get this mode of transport to the airport, be aware that there is an extra (quite pricey) premium for using the Metro to the airport on top of your usual fair. We did not know this, and being rather poor between us, we had a minor panic. Don't worry, loverly reader, it was fine - we made it! 

It was when we went to check in our bags after standing in the mahoosive queue that the real problem occurred. Somehow, my suitcase ended up being sent into the depths of Madrid airport (which, by the way, is MASSIVE) without a luggage label on it. Really. This sort of crap only ever happens to me, I swear. 

After about half an hour of mixed messages and misunderstandings, the orange and rather ditsy check in lady eventually admitted what she had accidentally done and my suitcase was apparently found and labeled. Thank god my suitcase it so bright and gaudy! When I got my suitcase back at the other end it was genuinely like Christmas day, I'm not even kidding you. I got some very strange looks for the strangled whooping sounds and the dancing - not sure why...

When we eventually got to the gate with very little time to spare, it was very apparent how poor we really were between us. Jai had to swap a Euro for a pound off of a very bemused lady and when we got on the plane, between us we could afford the sum total of 1 drink and 2 packets of Pringles. Nutritious. She used her card in the end but still. I'm pretty sure, cash-wise; we were the skintest on the plane

Anyway, after all of this drama, I had time to reflect upon the fact that, apart from the odd (large) drama, my time in Spain had been fab. For the most part, great company, great food and great weather are all you really need on a relaxing summer holiday and I had these things in abundance. 

Adiós España, see you soon babes.  

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