London Calling pt 1


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Europe » United Kingdom » England » Greater London » Bayswater
November 7th 2009
Published: November 7th 2009
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Oh dear oh dear oh dear… Where does one begin..?

As I make my plans for departure from London I am reminded that I havent written a blog while I have been here.

An entire month dearest reader, such a long time for us to be apart! You see, unlike the country where I left all of you darlings at, Morocco, the cost of internet in London Town is a little, well, AGGHHHHHHHH!!!! And so it is only now, that I have my own little netbook of love and joy, that I have the cost effective manner in which to communicate my misadventures to you. Now, bear with me, I really am thinking back a month to recount my tales and I have been very drunk of late.
Now the truth is that I cant really give away the most salacious details of my time in London because, unlike Morocco, I have been spending a lot of time with people I prior knew, and whom certain details should remain confidential. Here a very quick breakdown of my movements.
Day 1 - Hostel
Day 2-9: Stayed on the luxurious couch of one Mixmaster Tyrone Curtis
Day 10-24: Stayed on the
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Beer as big as my head!
luxurious couch in the student share-house of one Carmen Cracknell
Day 25-38: The wonderful Australian refugee camp known as Dean Court Hotel

Also, everyone has heard about the things to do in London a million times so I really won’t go into it too much. Yes I went to Big Ben and Parliament House - Actually quite cool. Westminster Abbey - Actually quite dull. Tower Bridge - Cool. Tate Modern Gallery - Not nearly as impressive as it should have been. London as a boozy destination - Ace! Although it is WAY easier to get a beer after midnight in Brisbane!! London as a place to get laid - *Insert big seedy eyebrow raises*. So I feel that I will use this time to write about some of my revelations about London the Town and significant events rather than the day to day mundanities…

And so we begin...

The biggest difference between the flight from Brisbane to Casablanca and Marrakech to London was the mental state that I had unwittingly developed after travelling through Morocco on my own. I realized about two thirds of the way to London, with perhaps a little bit of a suprise, that
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Carmen and Ian
I was arriving at one in the morning, I had no accommodation booked, I had no travel guide, I had no map, I had no pounds or large quantity of money that could be easily converted to pounds, and I had not even the faintest idea what I was doing, where I was specifically going, or why I was even travelling to England. The truly shocking thing was, however, that I didn’t care in slightest. It didn’t worry me. It didn’t stress me. Why? Because everything would work out!
If I make no other revelation of this wonderful little journey of self discovery I will have still already learnt one of the most important lessons in travelling: “It will all work out!” When you boil down the human experience, what things do you really need for the next 24 hours?, the essentials that you will require while you figure out where the fuck you are? 1. Accommodation, 2. Food. Crazy as it sounds, and even if the choices are not the ideal ones that you would make, there is ALWAYS food and there is ALWAYS accommodation (assuming you aren’t a total plant and didn’t travel to an expensive first world
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Ian and sarah... i did the conversion rate into AUD for the food we just ate...
country with NOTHING in the bank).

I arrived at lovely Gatwick airport, my first true experience of the phenomenon of London defying locations (what do you mean the airport is a one hour drive away from the nearest underground station… and almost two to the centre!! How can this place call itself London!!!) There were no customs to speak of, (I mean literally NO-ONE, I could have had a kilo of cocaine up my ass and there wouldn’t have been so much as a sideways glance!) Immigration was almost Moroccanesque in its ease and I then caught the Gatwick express in to Victoria Station, which ran straight from terminal to terminal. So here is poor little Ian wandering around central London, jewel of the west, first city in the world with one million residents, at two in the morning with no map, no idea where there are hostels, and no idea where to go. AHHHHH gentle traveller don’t worry your pretty pretty heads, remember this is the new improved power Ian, victim to no-one, beloved the world over! I grabbed the first black, suicide doored London cab I could see and asked, ever so sweetly “can you take me
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mmmmmm artistic
to the nearest backpackers mate”, well the (surprisingly) Caucasian taxi driver turned around and said “YerbinDunno watchunyewandoImay”. ……… “What!”………. “Cantakyerterderpakkasifinidunknowwhichwunyerwan!”…. And such was my first true experience of the hilariousness of English accents! There has been quite a few times on this trip when I have had a much easier time understanding the non-whites than the Old school brits! Laugh, Laugh, Laugh!

Anywho I got to my hostel, paid and crashed. It was HUGE, packed and souless… it was a place for 18year olds to stay while they get pissed… after an entire month of almost total abstinence the reemergence into alcohol culture was shocking. I will say right now that anglo countries have a serious, very unfunny drinking problem - we are total alcoholics by comparison to the rest of the world. Naturally at the first opportunity I hightaled it to a local boozer and necked a few pints (London Pride how much I love thee!)
The next morning in the not quite as cold as I thought it would be light of day I was met with the towering behemoth of London in all its majesty…. Dull, mouldy, characterless, dark brick terrace houses… Oh you industrial-era flirt
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London Underground
you! But I digress, I had a mission, and that mission was to first world myself quick smart. I had left morocco with a few pairs of fishermans pants, ratty thongs and some singlets… And I deeply suspected that these would not cut the English Mustard here in London. I had around six hours before I met up with my first couch host - Master Tyrone Curtis, heir to the Curtis misfortune - and by darn I was going to get some essentials. Like hair clippers…oh god an entire sweaty month of no personal grooming!!!! Enter reverse culture shock! In Morocco I was literally starved for choice - when you wanted to buy something you went to the medina and haggled, HERE I faced the problem that all travelers face with the Tyranny of Choice! Wow there are so many stores and chains… but which is the one for me? Where do I get the cheap electrical equipment, where can I buy a phone, what is the London equivalent of a Target, a Harvey Normans, an Athletes Foot? How in the blue hell do I know where to go and buy my cheap necessities!!! I settled on the wall-mart of London - ASDA!
Here is my quick list of stores to go in London if you’re fresh off the boat
• Dirt Cheap, quasi fashionable (but laughably lame) threads - Primark
• Groceries - Asda, or failing that a Tesco will be cheapest.
• Phone or other Electrical - Argos / Phone4u
• Any kind of serious winter clothes - Camden Markets (think West End markets * 20)

Which brings me all too inevitably at the most talked about feature of London - The Tube. “Oh God Ian you will never figure that thing out!”, “It is just a nightmare”, “We spent 4 hours just trying to get across town!” were some of the tales I had heard from people back home and other travelers. And yes I can understand just a little bit how this system would freak certain people out, just take a quick geezer at the map and you will see what I mean. Okay… Now… Let me make something very very very clear to all future travelers of London: If you cant work out the Underground you are either totally spacially retarded or bereft of a clue. The london transport network is an absolute dream! If you have the kind of mind where you can look at this map and say “Well I will need to get the Eastern Piccadilly line to Kings Cross, switch to the Circle line via Victoria but change at Bank for the DLR to the o2 Arena”, then you will be in heaven. Each line, in each direction, will come at least every 5 minutes, and they will apologize, OVER THE LOUDSPEAKER, for delays of any more than twenty seconds!!! Londoners are prone to complaining, amongst everything else, about their “dreadful” transport network. “Oh god I have waited ten minutes for this Tube, its outrageous!”, “We’ve been stopped here waiting for hours!!! -{read forty seconds”} and “O, god it is totally filthy in here!!! -{ read one neglected morning paper sitting innocently in the far, far left hand corner}. Dear world, Dear London - THE TUBE IS AMAZING…DEAL!!! Also many of the buses run 24 hrs a day 7 days a week!!!

Second rant- Money. Read my lips people - London just is not that expensive!!! Yes transportation is outrageous ($4 Australian for each Tube ride, easily $30 Australian for the simplest of Taxi trips), yes accommodation CAN be absurd. But if you have the slightest level of foresight you can arrange easy ways to save money. I have stayed for the last fortnight in a very central, clean, friendly hostel for 89 quid a week including cooked breakfasts every day. And food! If you avoid restaurants and stick to store bought food or take away places then London is much MUCH cheaper than living in Brisbane! This is a big city, with big competition, there are insane bargains to be found (1.50 Australian for a pizza and so on). Now, most importantly, Booze…

Oh sweet booze. As an Australian from a culture of alcoholics who is personally knows to enjoy a cask or three on a Saturday night let me just say that… BRITAIN HAS A FUCKING TERRIFYING DRINKING PROBLEM!!! No seriously, it is just not okay. Perhaps it is the Australian weather which leads us to drink at home, on the balcony with a few js and few beats, maybe it is just that Australian arent THAT angry and don’t get that mad when they drink. Either way, when brits drink they go out, then they get kicked out at midnight and fight and spew and fall over. I cannot explain how this is different to Australian drinking habits but it just is…
On the plus side alcohol is SOOOOO CHEAP HERE!!!! You can get a 700ml bottle of Tesco (read cheap and slutty) brand vodka for 12 dollars Australian. A slab of beer for $20 Australian… there is a reason that I have not been very coherent for the last two weeks!!
I have more but this is just a reminder that I aint dead

Squark to you soon kittens

Ian


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