Thursday, 13 November 2008

London Abodes

It's probably safe to say that my time spent in London isn't entirely made up of traveling, partying, exploring, absorbing London. It should then come as no surprise that a large percentage of my time is spent confined in my private quarters. The place where I sleep, laze, pass time, eat, read and ponder the greater issues in this life; more commonly known as my room. My stint in London has had me living out of different accommodations in the various boroughs of London. Here are my lodgings from the past half a year.


Upon arrival in London I dossed (n: Temporary make-shift bedding) for 2 weeks on a friend's couch in Paddington.


After forfeiting his lease, thereby leaving himself and I homeless I found myself short-letting with another friend at a discounted rent of £200/PCM in Highbury and Islington.


Upon completion of that short-let I managed to pick up a 3 month short-let in the suburb of Royal Oak.


Which finally brings me to my current dwelling in Soho, Tottenham Court Road. I can quite confidently say that this will not be the last place of residence in London.

Friday, 31 October 2008

Halloween

Sombreros worn low as to shroud their identities. Three Mexicans wait outside my local supermarket. They stand abreast, hands in their pockets and shawls pulled across their chests huddling from the cold. It's not the time nor place to be dressed in traditional Mexican attire - 6:00 pm in the middle of Autumn in London. It initially strikes me as unusual but I soon remember that this is London. Eclectic London. A cultural melting pot of ethnicity and culture, Mexicans included.

Forgetting about the Hispanics I continue with my grocery shopping. Wandering through the supermarket isles I hear commotion over by the cold section. Peeking through the shelves in the direction of the ruckus I see 4 people grouped in a circle. I'm slightly taken back, standing there are the 3 Mexicans but they are not alone. The fourth party member is Batman. Thursday night 4 drunkards have dressed up and are playing drinking games near the alcohol section of the local supermarket.

It could only be Halloween. The annual event which excuses for you to dress up as anything or anybody you want. The restrictions that you have to be something ghoulish, hairy or brain dead no longer applies (quite common in society these days). Want to be a Marvel Super Hero? Want to be that trampy nurse? How about a pop star? Marilyn Mason? Amy Winehouse? The options are endless and the 31st of October makes it all acceptable.

So armed with a cut kit, plenty of makeup and a lot of fake blood I enjoyed my first halloween away from Sydney.

Monday, 6 October 2008

Absolutely ...

Exhausted. I'm always pressed for time, it's a habit that has been hard to shake, leaving things to the last minute. Wednesday evening was no exception I was late for check in. I sat at Paddington station waiting for the Heathrow Express to Terminal 3. I had a mammoth 19 hour flight to Bali en route to Seoul ahead of me. I bordered KE908 and slipped into a disconnected slumber. A couple of in-flight movies later and some Korean rice porridge I was walking around Incheon International Airport as I waited for my connecting flight to Denpasar, Bali. 2 days worth of traveling for 2 days in Bali. This was going to be an interesting next couple of days.


The 7 hours or so spent on the flight were probably one of the more memorable flights of recent times. The hostesses were gracious and polite even going out of their way for some small talk. I had the rare luxury of having an empty seat next to me allowing me to stretch out and relax; the calm before the storm if you will. Bali welcomed me with humidity and the slowest customs procedure known to man. There must have been 5 customs attendants servicing at least 400 passengers. At just after 1 am on the 3rd October I emerged from Denpasar airport.The next 48 hours in Bali would involve a surprise, a wedding, a feast and memorable times held together by plenty of alcohol and a blatant disregard for sleep.



Surprised. I received the informal Wedding Invitation towards the end of August. Prior to leaving Sydney I had penciled in a return trip to Bali to attend the ceremony. Unfortunately there are some things that you can't script. My RSVP: Not Attending. At the time my answer was influenced by two things: I had no Annual Leave and the costs of the flights to Bali were pushing £1200+. That was my story, at least up until last week. I had just been paid and disposable income to play with. This prompted some serious thinking, what is the cost of an attending a close mate's wedding? What is the cost of missing a close mate's wedding? I logged online for one desperate check of flights and prices. To my surprise Korean Air had available discounted flights, £630 return. I calculated that over my short stint of employment I had accumulated approximately 1.92 days of annual leave.

The following day I asked my boss if it would be possible to take a couple of days leave. I had only worked for 5 weeks but what did I have to lose? The minute he said yes I bought the tickets and emailed my friends back home letting them know that I was going to Bali! The only people I didn't tell were the bride and groom...

Memorable. It was just after 1:00 am I had my backpack slung over one shoulder. I peered down the road. Double checked the address of the hotel. This was it, but nobody was around. I had been given the details and been told to wait here. A cab pulled up and a blonde Paris Hilton-esque girl stepped out. She was followed by a smiling yet familiar face, it was my friend. "I had to tell him I was going back to the hotel room with the girl so he wouldn't get suspicious. This is going to be awesome I can't wait to see his reaction".


I dropped off my stuff and we headed back into town. Ocean Beach Club was where the groom was spending his last evening as a bachelor. It was almost 2 am and the rest of my high school friends and the groom's friends were there. The Bintang was flowing and most people were relaxed and merry. The surprise itself was best described as slow motion. I snuck up behind him and propped my arm around his shoulder as somebody took a photo. He peered over to see who he had just taken a photo with. A couple of seconds passed and then it registered. It was all captured on film and this pushed the festivities early into the morning.


The lads had let me crash their hotel for 2 nights which was fine by me. Due to overbooking they were forced to relocate to another hotel for one night. The sun was already mid sky by the time we left the hotel. We were taken to the new rooms at Kuta Seaview and hurriedly got ready for the ceremony. It was then we discovered that the hotel had no ironing service.

Traffic that passes along Kuta Beach can be best described as horrendous, we negotiated a cab fare to Nusa Dua Beach Hotel where the ceremony was due to start at 3:00 pm. At 3:05 we stepped out of the cab, we were frantically asked around looking for the Santi lounge. Not only were we late, we were sweaty and we were all dressed in un-ironed shirts with varying degrees of crinkles and creases. This was a catastrophe!

Relieved. We burst through the doors to find the groom sitting on the lounge in shorts and looking like he had just woken up. "You guys are early" he hoarsely mumbled. "What happened to your voice?". "Too much screaming last night, it hurts to speak". By the time 4 pm rolled by we had ironed our shirts and cooled down, we were ready for the ceremony.


Beautiful. The 25 or so attendees of the Wedding comprised of immediate family and close friends. The location was spectacular, a small pagoda stood nestled on a grassy knoll not more than 5 metres from the sand. It was a warm afternoon and those who had come appropriately dressed were perspiring. Back, armpit, brow sweat were common sight with even knee sweat making an appearance. In the background Balinese instruments filled the air with a therapeutic soundtrack. It was a nervous wait for all, none more anxious than the groom.


There was a scuffle of feet as people ran off with their cameras, the commotion had begun. The heads of hotel guests turned, smiles beamed and cameras became active as the bride made her way down the path. Escorted by women dressed in traditional Balinese attire and her two sisters she smiled all while being received by a smiling hushed crowd. None more happy than the groom himself. The Balinese percussion ceased as the wedding host began the ceremony.

The wedding was a spectacle and was quite entertaining. For those wedding purists this would have been considered a disaster. There was mispronunciation the groom's name until the Wedding Planner had a quiet word in his ear to rectify this. Guests were constantly moving in and out of their chairs trying to snap the 'perfect shot' (I included). Finally the money question: "Do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?" and it was his answer that summed up the whole wedding. Without hesitation he replied with "Absolutely". The traditional "I do" had been replaced. The crowd chuckled but that was symbolic of the whole procession. It was enjoyable, entertaining and done for the right reasons. It was the public display of the union of two people. For them this union had happened long before the wedding arrangements, before the flights were booked, even probably before the proposal. This was merely a formality. An absolute.


The reception was a sumptuous banquet enjoyed in front of a Balinese Stage performance. Coming from London my dulled taste buds were treated to a wonderland of dishes. Dinner finished and we headed back to the hotel to get ready for the post-wedding celebrations. Showering for the 3rd time that day we changed into more appropriate gear: Boardies, t-shirt and flip-flops. We club hopped to the main tourist locations: M-Bar Go, Paddy's, Bounty that was until it started raining and a blackout fell upon Kuta. People were standing in pitch black venues, that was the sign for majority of the wedding group to call it a night (bride and groom included). We finished up the evening at Double 6 for some late night drinks.


Sunday morning, traditional Balinese/Indonesian food for breakfast, a nice well deserved massage and some strolling through the markets. We grabbed a couple of drinks and booked ourselves into Karaoke at Discovery Centro. The VVIP room, catering for up to 20 people, booked by 5 guys. It was like the old times, unnecessarily excessive. 2 hours worth of singing and we were done. My Bali experience had come to an abrupt but memorable end. Goodbyes were said and I was dropped off at the airport at 1:30 am Sunday morning. 20 hours later I was sitting at the Heathrow Connect platform waiting for the train to get back into London.


Worth it. This trip hands down has been my favourite adventure all year. Throughout my journeys I've immersed myself in new cultures, met new people and sampled new foods. This was all that and more, conversation, laughter, song and dance shared by familiar faces. It was an event, the coming together of friends for the celebration of love. Thanks to the guys and congratulations to the newly weds.

Thursday, 2 October 2008

SMS

bro, no time 2 get on the net
but weather is beautiful,hot
and humid. can club in shorts
n thongs if u want. msg me
when u get 2 kuta seaview,
will meet u straight away
cause we will be next door.
dont let the airport guys pick
up any check in luggage u
have cause u'll have 2 give
them money. carry some cash
2 exchange at the airport, can
u pick up 1 litre of spirits, and
bring ur A game bro! if u need
2 know anything hit me up

Sent 11:27 on 1 Oct 08


“Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn’t do than by the ones you did so. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.” - Mark Twain


Tuesday, 30 September 2008

Farewell W2 5TQ


"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times" - A tale of Two Cities: Charles Dickens

Flat 91. With an air of certainty I can confidently say this will be the last time I walk these corridors of the Royal Oak Villas. The dimly lit hallway, littered with crayons, rubbish and temporarily parked prams has been an eyesore for the last 3 months. Majority of my London experience has taken place here at Royal Oak. My first rental property, my first European Holiday, my first visitor, my first job offer. I leave the house in similar conditions to how I arrived. With nobody around. My (ex) room-mates are all out, working or socialising. I pull the door close for the last time. The turgid air laden with subcontinental spices invades the nostrils as I push my way through the hallway doors to the lifts. It will be the last time I catch the lift down from the 14th floor.

The rhythmic sound of the suitcase wheels click behind me. It's 9 pm as I drag my belongings through the park en route to the Tube Station. As I pass three young girls, one of them yells "Oi!". A young male in front of me turns around, he pauses then without warning removes his belt and runs off into the middle of the park. I stare into the darkness he just disappeared into. Suddenly the tension in the park intensifies. Before I realise what is happening I see another youth being pursued by a group of young-uns. "Get him!" one of them yells. A group of young males are chasing a young black male through the park. He trips and they pounce on him like a pack of hyenas on a wounded animal.

The attackers reign down stomps and fists as those wielding belts unleash leather fury onto his body. Unfortunately for the victim, the darkness of the park shrouds majority of the viciousness. Bracing against the barrage of attacks he manages to get to his feet and fend off the would-be thugs. His flight leaves him disorientated losing his hat and a shoe. Bystanders (I included) are watching as he runs out of the park through and across the main road. Cars are the least of his worries as headlights flash and horns blare. The youths retreat back into the park, the chase is over. I cross the road moments later, passing the prey as I walk to the Tube Station. "Did you get my shoe?" he asks a one of the females from the beginning. Still breathing heavily, he feigns towards the park and with both hands in the air yelling with contempt "I'll f**k you up!" (sic).

I'm going to miss this place...

Friday, 19 September 2008

Work to Live

The sentiment that most London newcomers commonly share is the disdain for the weather. Today is slightly different. A deep blue sky has decided to make a rare cameo appearance providing an award winning supporting role to a glorious Friday morning. Suffice to say, only the naive would classify a day as glorious with the metric of a cloudless sky. The main reason is that after 176 days of a negative cash flow I have finally been paid. Cue the angelic horns!

I think my biggest disappointment is, once I got paid, only then, did life suddenly feel normal again.

"It's a lovely day, just got paid. Stack it up, be on my way." - Lovely Day: Written by Bill Withers.