I have been a terrible blogger. Mostly due to being terribly busy.
This is just a quick note to say that I have started another tumblr which I’ve started for uni, but think I will keep up with because the world really is full of the most incredible people.
My whole life has kind of changed since my last post. So I’ll be sure to update everyone soon.
My first (half) day off in a while, I hung out with my lovely Canadian friend. We tried to enjoy the limited sunshine and then retreated to the Tate Modern when it started to get too cold.
I’ve had this horrible headache for the past couple of days. My housemate gave me some of these Korean pain killers which work quite well - however, I think I simply just need to remember to drink more water, wear my glasses and go to bed. Nevertheless, I’m not writing much today, so here are some photos.
Look! We can take our photo in giant shiny balls. How artsy (but seriously, look at that blue sky!)
I want this for my future house.
Lights makes my head hurt. Lucky for me, light in London is limited.
The Yayoi Kusama exhibition.
Anyway, I have been spending far too much time in pubs. How British of me.
I’m working quite a bit, so once I get paid, it will nice to be putting a little (very little!) money back INTO my account. Working for minimum pay is painful. London you are lucky I love you.
The joys of passive aggressive Britain.
I have this theory that one day the entire nation will simultaneously explode from pent-up angst.
But, I still love you!
(Source: youknowyourebritishwhen, via slightlydazed)
Looks like I made it a month. Although could someone please tell me where it went?
I literally have no time anymore to do practical things, like wash my clothes. Or eat.
I did however, make time yesterday in the wake of another small snow storm to take some photos of the park next to my flats.
I promise (halfheartedly) that this will be the last photos I post of snow.
I also promise (myself) that I will do something cultural this week that does not involve pubs.
Hyde Park after Saturday’s amazing snow storm.
I was at the theatre (to see Matilda, which was fantastic - a review is coming!) and when we walked out into Covent Garden, what 3 hours prior had been empty streets, was filled with this incredible, powdery layer of snow. The smiles everyone’s faces! It was a rare London sight (the smiles, not the snow.)
I have a developed a love/hate relationship with my work. Being a fundraiser is probably the hardest, yet the easiest job that I have ever done. It is mind numbingly boring, yet intellectually stimulating. It makes you feel like shit, yet can be the best ego-boost.
Ultimatly, it is a job of contridictions.
I’ve decided that Londoners are kind of mean. Eye contact is as rare as an alien invasion and a smile is like pulling teeth. Therefore, you could imagine how hard it is to try to get them to stop to save a Snow Leopard.
Yesterday, on the rare occasion that another person was in my corridor, I waved and said good morning. The lady looked at me like I had two heads and was going to mug her.
It’s weird. It is like no matter where you originally come from, as soon as you live in London you shut yourself off to the world. As an Australian, and a person who naturally talks to everyone, this is a really sad fact to comprehend.
I’m kind of wearing myself thin. Between work, uni and going out, I literally have no time and have had very little sleep. It has been worth it though. I had some really great nights this week!
Australia Day was lame, cliche, but crazy. Shepard’s Bush was like stepping out in Melbourne, only freezing. I didn’t get there until latish because I was at work. My friends had all been there since the afternoon, so were just a little intoxicated. It was all kind of gross. Ironically, I ended up spending the night with a Kiwi and a Zimbabwean. Kind of Un-Australian really.
It is starting to get really, really cold. I wouldn’t mind if I didn’t have to work in it. Being outside for 7 hours a day chills you right to the bone. I treated myself to a new jacket this morning. I kind of figure that it is a celebration that I made it through my first week of fundraising. I still need to invest in way more thermal layers though.
It seemed to be way easier to deal with the cold in Holland. Although I was inside 90% of the time, so I guess that really helped. Actually speaking of Holland, I have been missing it more and more lately. So much so, that I really want to move back there. I am hoping that my Maltese citizenship comes through really quickly so I can!
I love the UK, don’t get me wrong, however, continental Europe is just so much more exciting!
Finally, I apologize for such a rambling, disjointed post. I need more sleep. I’ll post some photos soon.
It’s close to 10pm and I am up doing homework. Finally, I’m a real student again! It’s such a warm feeling. Like seeing a long-lost friend. Or hugging a teddy bear.
Some people hate being a student. I am obviously not one of them. The thought of timetables and assignments makes me giggle. Class debates! Piles of books! I’m a little bit of a nerd.
I had my first classes today and am really excited to be a part of such an interesting group of people. It’s nice to be around other students who have wild dreams of foreign corresponding and magazine editing. Oh, the life of a journalist!
Each fortnight, along side all of our other assignments, we need to submit a unique (and completely factual, no creative licence here!) feature, news article and review. So sorry friends, I will probably be writing notes next time we go out for dinner or to the movies. Or pull out my camera when the bus driver yells at the slow old lady. Or interview interesting-looking backpackers at the bar.
Along side this exciting development, I also found a job last week. I’ll be working for an organisation who provides fundraising for a whole heap of international charities like UNICEF and the WWF. I have training on Wednesday, and I’m really looking forward to starting. The people who work there seem like a really awesome group of outgoing, save-the-world type people. It will also be great to start making some money, I’m dying to go shopping!
Well, I better get back to writing for grades. Ah! Grades!
By the way, if your house catches fire, or you think that you are interesting enough for a feature article email me. I’m serious.
Chasing summer for 2 years sounds pretty glamorous. Don’t get me wrong, 670ish days of sunshine, bare legs and freckles is amazing; it is just as soon as you are thrust back down to a winter-filled reality things start to get a little messy.
Daylight in London is short lived. I’m an early riser, I have been getting up at around 6.30am to go for a run around Caledonian Park. It is pitch black and a little disconcerting. Dawn hits at around 9am and then it seems like only minutes before it is 3.30pm and it is dusk. Therefore, it is no wonder I still haven’t shaken off this disgusting jet-lag fatigue.
The fact that my little room has no windows only adds to this weird sense of having absolutely no idea what time it is, let alone what day. Today I woke up convinced it was Friday and kept wishing people a good weekend.
I have spent the last few days job hunting, which has been painful, and opening up a bank account, which was surprisingly painless. People kept telling me these horror stories of trying to open up a UK bank account. I literally walked into a branch, had a laugh with the bank lady, answered a few things about myself and walked out 30 minutes later with an account. Maybe things are a little more relaxed in Islington?
Speaking of Islington, I have biasedly decided that I live in the best part of London. It is quiet yet there is heaps to do only minutes away. Safe yet super-multicultural (not that a suburb being multicultural makes it unsafe). It is also really close to everything; today I walked to Camden in about 15 minutes. That makes me really excited!
Around Angel (yes Dad, Islington Angel like in Monopoly) there is the adorable antiques market, which I really had to control myself not to buy anything. There is also every single supermarket chain that the UK has to offer, plus a really cheap bookstore and a stack of charity stores.
As soon as I start eating properly again (for some reason all I have been able to stomach is oats and apples, I guess this is a symptom of jet-lag?) and find myself a job, I’ll be almost back to normal.
To conclude, here is a (very short) photo-montage of my first week.
(Ice-Skating (or lack of) at Sumerset House with some lovely fellow Australians/lovely new friends!)
(The clock-tower at Caledonian park. It looks really eerie at night, because there is no lights in the park and the clock-face glows.)
(View from the roof of my flats at sunset.)
(Pigeons on ice in Hyde Park! Taken on the day that we decided it was a wonderful idea to have a winter picnic. Future reference, it got very cold, very quickly.)
House hunting in London is an interesting experience. Not one that I would recommend doing whilst seriously jet-lagged though.
To say that it was an emotional roller-coaster would be putting it lightly. Thank goodness for my newest travel-friend Sam who made me go out and do fun stuff and eat and stay up past eleven.
I was staying in a 10 person dorm which consisted of nine 16-year-old French girls and myself. I figure that I don’t need to elaborate any further for you to understand why I needed to find a place of my own as quickly as possible.
The hostel didn’t have internet so I made myself comfortable at the local McDonald’s; trawling through Gumtree and Spareroom until I knew all of the ads by heart.
I was lucky, I got lots of replies really quickly, however, after viewing the eighth room not big enough for the door to completely open, my hope was quickly diminishing. Admittedly I have a very small budget, and I wasn’t going to stray further than zone 2, so it is partly my fault for being so hardheaded.
Sunday morning came around, and I had accepted the fact that I wasn’t finding anything this week. I extended my stay at the hostel for another few days and went to the Brick Lane market with another very lovely new friend. As I was heading to the station, I get a call from another landlord asking if I would like to come see the room she has available.
As it was literally 2 minutes down the road from the station I headed over to have a look. The location was pretty much perfect. The room is tiny, but manageable. The housemates seemed lovely. Finally, a house worth expressing interest for.
To my surprise, about an hour later, I get a text saying that she has told the other people who were coming to view the room not to bother coming, and that if I’d like I could move in the following day.
Fast forward 24 hours, and after spending the better part of today cleaning it up and making it pretty, I’m lying in bed on my computer, satisfied that although it isn’t perfect, it is a really good starting point and a fantastic first base for a new girl in London.
I depart midnight tonight (tomorrow?) and I’m packed and itching to go. I forgot how much easier it is packing with the intention of settling. I think that my backpack feels a little rejected though.
I love this feeling of excitement and anticipation mixed with a touch of crippling fear. I imagine that it is almost the same adrenaline boost that you feel when you are standing on a ledge ready to bungee-jump (except without the risk of death.)
So, this is it. No turning back now.
I’ve organised to meet up with a few friends when I arrive and I have a few potential rooms to go have a look at. I’ve signed up with an agency, so will hopefully find a job quickly, and I’m going to ward of jetlag by going out for drinks with a group of international students tomorrow night.
Just need to keep busy so I can ignore the January sales.
(The weather difference isn’t THAT bad!)
