Let there be light

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It may not be so accurate as to say that in the beginning, there was nothing but in my beginning, there was Timaru - a not too distant relative of nothing. Perhaps that's being harsh, after all Timaru is a relentless motivator of travel.

The flight over was short of any interesting highlights except that nearly all local looking residents at Honk Kong airport were wearing face masks of one description or other. I got the feeling that beneath each the individual also wore a wry smile, as if they knew something I didn't.

The rest of the journey continued without incident and 6 movies - on a screen whose graphic capabilities were trumped only by crash bandicoot - later, we landed at Heathrow terminal 5.

The real degree of just how little I had prepared was apparent not long after baggage claim. I went to the toilets to peel off the schweaty rag that once laid claim to being my teeshirt and it dawned on me that I had no idea exactly where my 25 kilograms of luggage, my guitar, Theodore (a gentle soul who is present in some of my earliest living memories), and I were going.

3 maps, 4 different ticketing machines, 8 Kathmandu travel wipes, and some nervous shuffling later, we were on a train bound for Great Portland St station. Within 10 minutes Theo and I had done it - we'd made it to YHA London Central. It took all of 2 minutes to be turned away and directed to another around the corner. Sensing a long day, Theo pointed out, quite rightly that it was time for a durry. Being not allowed lighters on the plane we were left facing the most sarcastic of situations - 250gms of delicious wine and rum cured tobacco (courtesy of duty free), papers, filters and no way to light it. Contrary to popular accounts, a kind smoker on the street gifted me his lighter

Check in at YHA St Pancras went smoothly and after a shower, breakfast and at least a half dozen more darts later, it was beer o'clock.

This allowed for enough clarity of mind to source a SIM card and get in contact with Ali Bob Roberts, a beautiful young marketer and friend of the family. We met and filled the tank with pizza, beers and general information about my new home.

Her departure called for more beers and not being one to shy away from a tube or two I sat down to watch the regal celebration happening minutes from my location.

The night was called to an end when an uninvited bout of jet lag disrupted the path from lap to beer, causing me to spill it over the lap of an old lady. Quick thinking from Theo minimised the damage and when she and her husband assured me that they'd done the same thing more times than they care to remember I went to bed without worry.

The next morning bought about my fortunate meeting with two Australians, Digger and James. A mutual gripe over "Boris" - a bulldozer of a man who as far as I can tell is lucky to be alive after a defeaning 2 hour long battle with sleep apnoea - led to the eventuality of Theo and I packing up and moving back to the London Central hostel with our two new friends. Adventures to be detailed in the next entry. Xo

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