Here's how you can tell if someone is a Londoner:
They like to present a rousing soliloquy about the deficiencies in the drainage system when all of Piccadilly transforms into one giant puddle.
It rained a lot today. The other people in my office cleared out faster than I've ever seen them move before, but luckily for me the other intern was happy to share her umbrella as we skittered towards the tube station. I was damp and the bus was cloudy, but London was meant to be seen this way. All puddles and wavering reflections and people just trying to make it home.
19 April 2012
17 April 2012
Adventures in Brighton
Seafront. That has a nice ring to it. Cue Seaside by The Kooks and me strolling along the pebbled English beach of Brighton. Fancy right? Yeah I really enjoyed Brighton.
We booked a cheap Megabus and within a few hours we were out of the land of tall builidngs and power walkers and pacing up and down the pier at a dangerously leisurely pace. Somehow the ocean seems even bigger after being surrounded by all of the tight streets and huge buildings in London and I didn't realize how much I had missed that much open space. We walked basically the entire length of the seafront and I made a valiant effort at skipping rocks in the ocean. And failed. We posed for pictures with a giant doughnut -- the mascot of Brighton as far as I can tell. We bought fresh seafood from a vender's cart. #teamcrayfish. We stopped for fish and chips like good little Londoners and listened to some live music and walked into shops that smelled like chocolate and into shops like smelled too much like cheese even for my taste and we sat in the grass under a magical fairy tree and thought about how strange it is to be going home soon. We got a free can of Fanta and talked about Basset hounds and ended the day in a pub. It was a good day.
Did I mention that I ate a waffle on a stick?
Day trips are fun.
We booked a cheap Megabus and within a few hours we were out of the land of tall builidngs and power walkers and pacing up and down the pier at a dangerously leisurely pace. Somehow the ocean seems even bigger after being surrounded by all of the tight streets and huge buildings in London and I didn't realize how much I had missed that much open space. We walked basically the entire length of the seafront and I made a valiant effort at skipping rocks in the ocean. And failed. We posed for pictures with a giant doughnut -- the mascot of Brighton as far as I can tell. We bought fresh seafood from a vender's cart. #teamcrayfish. We stopped for fish and chips like good little Londoners and listened to some live music and walked into shops that smelled like chocolate and into shops like smelled too much like cheese even for my taste and we sat in the grass under a magical fairy tree and thought about how strange it is to be going home soon. We got a free can of Fanta and talked about Basset hounds and ended the day in a pub. It was a good day.
Did I mention that I ate a waffle on a stick?
Day trips are fun.
05 April 2012
It's just that way
This is a sad story called sometimes London is utterly sunny and warm and all I want to do is spend the rest of my time here in the park while my coat lies banished under the bed, but then the weather remembers where we are and turns back to cold and gray. No park for me today. It's a good thing I like the tea.
03 April 2012
It's about looking at stuff.
This is open ended. I haven’t come to any sort of conclusion yet, but I think sometimes we just need to mull over things for the sake of all good musings. This weekend I went on trips. I went on a far trip to Paris and a near trip to the London Zoo and both trips set me to pondering about the way we look at things. I don’t mean the metaphorical way that we view and interpret the world around us and all that jazz – no I’m talking about literally walking up to something and just staring at it.
We just stare at things. I went to Paris and stared at the Eiffel Tower, at my pink macaron, at the Parisians, the sun-kissed buildings, the bridges we passed on our boat tour, the weathered spines of well-loved books, my onion soup and the flowering trees. I would have spent hours upon hours staring at paintings on a wall in the art galleries if we had time. Then on Saturday we went to the zoo and my staring habit took over again. This time I found myself staring at strange eyeballs and funny nostrils, at penguin wings, lily pads, snuggling otters, feisty zebras, and parrot feathers. The animals stay in their enclosures while I pay £20 to wander through a park and stare at them.
I started to wonder how much money or time we spend to effectively stare at things regardless of whether or not we’ve seen them before. And why? I stinking love the zoo and I could sit and watch penguins play for the rest of my life and be content, but the more I think about it the stranger the whole convention seems. Do we stare at things to know more? To learn? We could just as easily buy a book and flip through pictures, but instead we traipse all over the world to be in the presence of fascinating sights. I don’t think it has anything to do with grandeur because the Eiffel Tower is huge and famous but I enjoy the butterfly paradise at the zoo just as much. So for now I’m just going to chock it up to good old fashioned wonder. We like to be startled; to see something brand new or perfectly familiar and have a different reaction every time. So we’ll keep buying tickets and planning road trips and drying out our contacts all in an effort to stare at more things and remember how fun it is to be surprised.
What do you think?
We just stare at things. I went to Paris and stared at the Eiffel Tower, at my pink macaron, at the Parisians, the sun-kissed buildings, the bridges we passed on our boat tour, the weathered spines of well-loved books, my onion soup and the flowering trees. I would have spent hours upon hours staring at paintings on a wall in the art galleries if we had time. Then on Saturday we went to the zoo and my staring habit took over again. This time I found myself staring at strange eyeballs and funny nostrils, at penguin wings, lily pads, snuggling otters, feisty zebras, and parrot feathers. The animals stay in their enclosures while I pay £20 to wander through a park and stare at them.
I started to wonder how much money or time we spend to effectively stare at things regardless of whether or not we’ve seen them before. And why? I stinking love the zoo and I could sit and watch penguins play for the rest of my life and be content, but the more I think about it the stranger the whole convention seems. Do we stare at things to know more? To learn? We could just as easily buy a book and flip through pictures, but instead we traipse all over the world to be in the presence of fascinating sights. I don’t think it has anything to do with grandeur because the Eiffel Tower is huge and famous but I enjoy the butterfly paradise at the zoo just as much. So for now I’m just going to chock it up to good old fashioned wonder. We like to be startled; to see something brand new or perfectly familiar and have a different reaction every time. So we’ll keep buying tickets and planning road trips and drying out our contacts all in an effort to stare at more things and remember how fun it is to be surprised.
What do you think?
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