London. The Mother Ship. Headquarters of the Commonwealth Empire and home to more Australian expats than any other city on earth. Many of our friends told us not to bother visiting. They told us it was dark, grey and cramped. Tara and I thought about bypassing straight to France, but then we thought ‘what the hell’, let’s embrace the place. It might have the characteristics of a mineshaft, but just like a mine, it should yield some gems hidden between the cracks. And yes, we did strike some great little nuggets along the way.
We headed to London, after visiting my book publisher in Great Yarmouth. It was really cool to meet the people who helped bring my first novel ‘Hellbound’ to life. Joe and Julie were wonderfully kind to us while we stayed with them and their landlord Buddy the Dog, who runs the household with an iron paw.
Snowflake needed to get a bit of a pedicure and blow-wave to pass her MOT test (like a roadworthy certificate) and wasn’t too keen on wading through London traffic, so we left her at a mechanics in Great Yarmouth and jumped on a bus for the big smoke.
Five hours on a bus. Unless you really like hard bus seats and a driver who is heavy on the breaks, it’s a long time to be cooped up in a large, moving tin can. But we got there without vomiting, which was a bonus. We were greeted by a bubbly piece of goodness; a good friend of ours from Torquay, Kate Ward. It had been three years since we’d seen each other, but with good mates it never feels like it’s been that long. In the age of Facebook you already know what everyone is up to day-to-day, so conversation can skip the small talk to the important stuff, gossip about home. Kate and her man Simon were kind enough to let us stay at their apartment, which they share with another Aussie couple Gretel and Sam in Notting Hill. If you’ve seen the movie, it’s a slightly swankier part of town with plenty of surrounding parkland. All four of our hosts got up early to go to work, but still had plenty of time to guide us on things to do during the day. It’s amazing how even new acquaintances will set aside important hours to make sure we will enjoy ourselves while in town.
We started with the traditional walk through Hyde Park to Buckingham Palace, where we witnessed what is possibly the most overrated spectacle on earth, ‘The Changing of the Guard’. There were over a thousand people there, jostling to peer through the gaps in the barred gates and watch some men in big black furry hats, walk around a yard with their guns and blow a trumpet. I couldn’t think of anything more unimportant to witness. The long-haired dog was rad though.
Dark ominous storm clouds hung in the air during much of the ceremony, before a loud clap of thunder announced the London rains. We were caught like amateurs without wet-weather gear. After a mad-dash for cover, trying to avoid getting our eyes poked out by stray umberella-spokes from the crowd, we found shelter in the park. While huddling to avoid the downpour, a group of royal guards marched past mere feet away. One of them winked at Tara, which was a much bigger thrill than the earlier more celebrated ritual.
Finally the rain subsided, so we were able to skip across all of the stops on the Monopoly board. Picadilly Circus, Big Ben, Westminster Abbey and Trafalgar Square. We soaked in some culture at the National Gallery and checked out the most fantabulous bookstore in the universe Foyles. If you’re a bibliophile like me and you’re in London make sure to check it out. It makes Borders look like a Dymocks.
Sore feet aren’t much fun if you don’t have a car. Luckily in London there is a super public transport system: The Tube. Serving 270 stations and with over 400 kilometers of track, it’s one of the biggest underground public transport systems in the world. Even on a cold day it’s stifling hot inside. No AC and thousands of bodies means sweat, smells and shoving. It you want to take photos of the people on The Tube, you only need a black and white camera, since everyone is grey anyway. They all have blank expressions on their faces, like they’re too scared to show emotion. These drones, file off to work each day, avoiding all eye contact with their fellow commuters, silently staring into space with their iPod ear-pieces plugging out the external world. Many of them don’t even appear to be breathing. As the cars slow to a halt at a station, all exiting passengers step off in choreographed unison and jostle for the exit, as if their schedule is more important than the person in front of them. For us, with no real time table, just enjoying the sights, this really was a spectacle. We loved The Tube, for the whole experience, the people, the tangy aromas and the uncanny wind, which pushes out of the tunnels onto the station platforms ahead of the trains, signalling their imminent arrival. It truly is a must do, even if it is to freak out a commuter just by smiling and saying hello. Apparently that’s weird.
We rode the Tube on the Friday night over to Brick Lane. It’s like Fitzroy times a million. Grungy street art, fashion and bars. It was such a funky suburb. We went there to meet some other friends, Nat Wilcock and Hannah O’Lachlan, who both live in London, are from Torquay, but didn’t know the other was in town. It’s crazy how big London is. Sometimes it feels like there are more Australians living there than Brits. Collectively, the two girls showed us the ropes of the suburb and took us to Curry Corner, where there are a bunch of Indian Restaurants, all vying and bidding for your business. Nat and Hannah managed to haggle a free bottle of sav blanc, free pappadams and 10% off our bill to eat at a place we were already going to go to. Only in London (or maybe India).
The next day it was more sight seeing. Considering we only had a couple of days in the city we had to pack it in. Kate took us to the Portobello markets, home of the tastiest felafel wrap in town, before going down to Hyde Park to witness a nude bicycle race.
Yes that's right, nudity! The wang to flange ratio was definitely skewed toward spotted dick, but there were all kinds of people involved. The ride was to protest against the world’s reliance on oil, and was a sight to remember. A highlight was when a regular clothed girl on a hire bike was trying to push between the watching crowd, to cross the road with little success. After a few minutes of frustration she yelled out ‘okay, if I take all my clothes off will you let me through?!’ Someone beside us went, ‘yeah alright!’, so she proceeded to take off her g-string, tie it to her handlebars and drop her dress to the ground. Certainly a novel way to beat rush-hour!
Not much in the way of more museums could have beaten that unique experience, so it was about time we picked up shop and saw the ass end of England to ride the tunnel to France. Next stop Fromelles.
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