A week in London: Whose life is this?

I am going to write this entry in the present tense, in a stream of consciousness kind of way, in order to try to convey the essence of what I experienced and the pace at which these experiences unfolded.

I arrive at Paddington train station on Friday, Dec. 4, at approximately 3:30 pm. It is a very busy, buzzing, bustling place with people coming and going from every direction. I am somewhat overwhelmed, after 2 weeks in the desert and then a week in the quiet city of Carmarthen, being lazy and low key, hanging out with Kevin, Rowan and the girls. It takes me 10 minutes to locate the bathroom. I have to pay 50 pence to get in and there is a turnstyle. Hmmmmm...how to get my suitcase through? With a bit of struggling, hoisting, huffing and puffing, I finally manage. I freshen up and then I head back out into the station. It takes me another 10 minutes to find a counter where I can buy a tube pass for the week. Finally, I get on the tube...during rush hour...oops...forgot about that! Kevin did warn me though. After a half hour of hanging onto poles and to my bags, trying not to fall over, sweating in the hot stuffy train car and resigning myself to the fact that personal space does not exist, I arrive at my destination.


I step out of the Bond Street Station onto Oxford Street. The cool air feels good on my warm face. It is dark (about 4:30), the Christmas decorations are dazzling, it is a sea of people, activity and energy. Wow! This is AMAZING!! I am so happy to be here. Everything seems so exciting and alive! I begin walking to Jeremy's workplace but before I can get there, I see him walking towards me. I drop my bags and we greet each other with a big hug. We go for a drink at the same place we met last time I was in London: a small, crowded, noisy pub that caters to the after work crowd. Two double gin and tonics please! We sit outside because, like Victoria in the winter, you can (usually) do that in London.

Decorations near Oxford Street

Jeremy says to me "A friend of mine is having a birthday party tonight at a bar. It starts at 11:30. Wanna go?". I say "Okay, sounds great!" We meet a friend of his (Zolt) who is originally from Victoria and now lives in Leeds. We go for a delicious dinner at a Japanese place. We then head back to Jeremy's to get ready for the party, each of us pulling black suitcases of various sizes...truly a sign of the times. We have a short nap and then get dressed for the evening's festivities.

We arrive at the bar at 12:00. Our names are on "the list". I decide to check my coat. I hand it to the attendant and I wait for the ticket. After a few seconds, the attendant is looking at me as if she is waiting for something. I look down and she is holding a small rectangular shaped device with a glowing blue light. I look up at her and then back down. I look up again and I say "What's this?". She says "I need to scan your fingerprint". I'm sure my face looked like I had just been asked to hop up and down on one foot while reciting the Lord's prayer backwards. I hesitate for a second and then I tentatively place my finger on this strange futuristic device. Nothing happens: I don't explode or turn into a cyborg. I quicky scurry into the club.

It is loud. It is crowded. It is dark and filled with flashing lights of various types and colours. I weave my way through an endless river of bodies, desperately trying to get to the bar. I feel like a salmon swimming upstream. Yay - I made it!! We order 3 drinks (2 double G & Ts and an orange juice). This costs 38 pounds, roughly the equivalent of $68.00 Canadian. I almost pass out. I think to myself "I guess I'll be drinking a lot of water tonight". Then, thank goodness, Jeremy says "We don't have to buy drinks. My friend is taking care of it. Drinks will be coming to our table over there." He points to a dark corner where a group of people are gathered.

We head over there and sure enough there are bottles of champagne and mandarin vodka. Shots are distributed and glasses of champagne are filled. I look at Zolt and I say "I can see where this is heading. It's going to be an interesting night!" In goes my first shot of mandarin vodka - Delicious! I spend the rest of my time sipping champagne and drinking vodka, trying to have conversations with people over extremely loud music and flashing lights that would most certainly trigger an epileptic seizure in someone who was prone to these. Every once in a while, I go outside for a break from the mayhem that is the club, and I meet all kinds of characters and fascinating people who are interested in where I'm from and what I'm doing in London. Two young women from East London (I LOVE their accents) invite me to another club the next night, because...get this... Lady Gaga is going to be there. I ask if she is performing. "No, we heard that she is just going to be there". I explain that I probably won't be able to make it. They go on and on about how nice I look and how radiant I am and how my necklace matches my skirt , etc. They are much smaller (and younger) than me and probably have a lower alcohol tolerance level. I smile and nod and thank them for their kind words.

It's 3:00 am. I am informed that we are going to another bar. Okay! We get into a couple cabs and arrive at a different establishment...very crowded, kind of dodgy...bad energy...poor service, scantily clad women swinging from hoops suspended from the ceiling...after about a half hour, we leave. We are going to the hotel where Jeremy's friend has rented a suite. At 5:00 am, the really expensive champagne comes out. Oh yes, I can tell...it's like fairies dancing on my tongue. An hour goes by and I'm fading. Zolt and I decide to leave together. We get to bed at about 6:15. My week in London is off to a roaring start!!

I crawl out of bed at 1:30...I MUST find coffee. I stick my head under the shower, get dressed and head out to forage for food and caffeine...must find coffee. Jeremy and I have arranged to meet near his clinic. Almost exactly 24 hours later, I again find myself stepping out of the Bond Street station onto Oxford. I thought it was busy yesterday...this is bordering on chaos! The third to last Saturday before Christmas...in a major shopping district of London...The street is closed to traffic so instead of cars, there are mini human traffic jams every 3 feet. I'm tired, hung over, hungry, caffeine deprived...uh oh...my usual high tolerance for crowds and general mayhem is starting to shrink...must find food and coffee...Okay, I'm much better now...after a good breakfast and 4 coffees...Jeremy and I sit outside for a while, on the street with the blue archway decorations, watching the world go by...one of my favourite things to do when I travel.

That night we go out for a delicious dinner and then to a movie. It's going to be low key. We get to the theatre and we buy our tickets. The attendant asks us where we want to sit. I look at Jeremy for help. He explains that seats are assigned. Oh...that's interesting...I say that I'd like to sit somewhere in the middle. We decide to get popcorn. Do I want sweet or salty? Sweet???? Ummmmm...salty...with butter, please. "Oh we don't put butter on our popcorn here. That's an American thing". I am so disappointed that I almost decide not to have any, but in the end I cave in. The flavour they don't get from butter, they try to make up for with salt. My tongue was actually burned by the time I finished my popcorn.

Sunday, I sleep in and then go for brunch at this great place where I am served a delicious vegetarian version of the traditionl English breakfast. The coffee is fantastic! I hop on the tube and head to Notting Hill for the afternoon. What a great neighbourhood! I stroll up and down Portobello Road, browsing the shops and markets stalls. Jeremy is working late so I decide to go to another movie (hey, I've been deprived of pop culture for 6 weeks). Again I am asked where I would like to sit. Then I am asked if I would like to pay extra for a foot rest. I try to imagine a regular theatre seat (like we have back home and like the one I sat in the night before) with a foot rest. Where would it go? How would it fit? Are the rows extra wide? I say "No...I don't think so". I walk into the theatre and I am stunned to see that the seats are actually leather, living-room style chairs that allow you to sit back and "lounge". They are quite large and have wide arms (made of melamine) with a hole for your drink. I turn around, and at the back of the theatre I see a bar. I sidle over and I realize it is a real bar that serves alcohol. I order a glass of wine. It comes in a real glass wine glass. Wow...movie viewing in style!

Monday is a beautiful, sunny, crisp winter day. After a nice breakfast and delicious coffee, Jeremy is off to work, so I decide to do some shopping. The shops and streets are bustling. The energy is good. All the sales people are friendly. I spend too much money...

That night, Jeremy whisks me off to a very tall office building and, after putting my belongings through an x-ray machine and going through a metal detector, we take the elevator up to the 42nd floor. I step into another world: a circular wall of glass with a breathtaking view of London at night. We can see St. Paul's, The London Eye, The Tower Bridge and a myriad of twinkling lights. We are escorted to our seats and Jeremy orders strawberries and a bottle of champagne. We toast, we talk, we laugh, we chat with the French server. Uh oh, the bottle is empty. Another bottle of champagne please! A few hours later, it's time to go. We find a hotel lounge that is open late and we order a bottle of port. Mmmmmmmmm...yummy! I knock my glass over and it crashes to the floor. Oops! The old McCormick clumsiness is in full swing! A server comes scurrying over and quickly cleans up the mess...We finally decide to call it a night and hop into one of those wonderful old world, spacious London taxis!

Tuesday, we go to the British museum, where we see all kinds of ancient artifacts and interesting pieces of history. That evening there is a party to celebrate the one year anniversary of Jeremy's friend's production company. There are delectable finger foods, an open bar, great live music and a woman offering free waxing for those who want it. Too bad I just got my eyebrows done. I start talking to this guy who has never had any waxing and has just tried it for the first time. He had to stop halfway through because it was too painful. He looks at me, smirks and raises one eyebrow. Someone then points out that he looks a bit like Austin Powers and I realize "Oh my god - it's true!!" He even has a faint beauty mark above his lip and a slight overbite (but his teeth are much nicer than Austin's). He then sits down and braces himself for the next brow. He winces, curses and twitches while a few of us look on, chuckling. Later on he asks me for a light and I reply "Only if you say 'Do I make you horny?'" He does it perfectly, facial expressions and all. Later on, he entertains us with a killer "Oh behave!!" or two and a few other choice "Austinisms". What a great night - hilarious!!

It's around 12:30...I'm hungry...we go to yet another hotel lounge that is open late and, bonus, they are still serving food!! We order wine and a few finger foods...a while later we realize that a couple of men over in the corner are arguing quite loudly with very thick Scottish accents. Hmmmm...this could be interesting...I tune in and all I can hear is a lot of swear words, especially the "F" word. They are YELLING at each other...something to do with business...I think...at one point, one of them gets up and is threatening to leave. Eventually they settle down. After a while, the conflict flares up again. Yelling, swearing, verbal abuse...then a couple at the bar starts bickering, loudly.

What is going on ? There are three "couples" (6 people) in the entire place and two of them are arguing. Meanwhile, Jeremy and I are sitting quietly, sipping our drinks, laughing and having a great discussion about the meaning of life and the nature of the universe...and everyone else is arguing...weird...on our way out, we stop at the bickering Scotsmen table and I say "Be good to each other". One of them says "We are being good to each other". Then I say "Do you love each other?" Simultaneously, one of them says "yes" and the other says "no".

The next day includes a trip to the science museum and some shopping. Dinner is a fantastic indian/fusion place called the Mint Leaf, with really groovy music (partly recorded and partly live). The atmosphere is great and the service is excellent. After dinner we decide to hang out in the bar area for awhile, listening to the music, which includes an amazing conga player. When the bar closes, we go outside and end up having a brief chat with the conga player and he suggests a club we might like. He says "Ask for Idrus and tell him Basil sent you". Okay...will do...thanks...it all sounds so clandestine and mysterious!

Jeremy and me at the Mint Leaf

I used the photo editing program to make it purple

Off we go to find this club. We get to the door and they ask if we have a reservation. "No, but we were told to speak to Idrus". The door man informs us that Idrus is busy but invites us in. We sit down, we order a bottle of port, again I am just so happy in this moment. I am having an absolute blast in London and I have experienced so much in the past 5 days that it feels like I've been there for months! A while later, Jeremy introduces me to the mysterious Idrus, who Jeremy has been chatting with for the past few minutes. He is head of security at the club. It turns out he is originally from Botswana and spent some of his childhood in Nigeria. He has been in London/UK for most of his life (left Africa when he was about 8 or 9). We end up having a fascinating and really engaging conversation about "the problem of Africa" and what needs to change in order for Africa to be the continent it has needs and deserves to be. We pretty much solved all of Africa's challenges but I lost the napkin I wrote the formula on...darn!


Thursday morning, Jeremy and I go for a nice breakfast and then he delivers me to the train station. I am off to see Alison in an area of Surrey called Leatherhead. I get off the train to find Alison and Parker waiting for me. We hop in the car and then begin the procedure of picking up the other boys from school, but, wait, there is time for tea. We get some tea to go and, while waiting for Hudson, spend time chatting and filling each other in on the insanity that has been our lives in the past few months. We then pick up Spencer at a different school. The boys all like their schools, classes and classmates at least as much as back home. That's good. The concensus seems to be that school uniforms are a pain but not the end of the world. That's good. We eventually make it to their apartment and Jelly greets us enthusiastically. Alison and I decide we are going to step across the road (literally about 10 steps) to the pub for dinner, but not before I play a few games of Go Fish with Spencer and Parker. I lose all three games.

Jelly and Parker

We walk into the pub and find a cozy corner. We order nachos and beer...no sour cream though...hmmmmmm...Alison is dismayed. Are there olives, tomatoes, jalapenos and onions on the nachos? No, just cheese...hmmmmmm...Kathryn is dismayed...not like "back home" but, okay. We are soon informed that a group of men, known as Wassailers, are going to be arriving in a while and will be singing Christmas carols and holiday songs. Sounds pretty good to me - should put me in the holiday spirit. Incidentally, wassail is defined as: To revel, celebrate noisily, indulge in drinking, engage in uproarious festivities.


More and more people start to arrive and the atmosphere gets more festive and merry by the minute!! A couple more pints over here, please! I'm LOVING this...it's so much fun and in an "old world" kind of way, it feels familiar and comforting...I feel like I'm part of a community, even though I don't live there or know any of these people.

It was so great to see Alison, Rimas and the boys...it was kind of surreal that we were both in England together and that Alison lives there now, driving on the wrong side of the road, using a washing machine that also dries, saying chips instead of fries and bringing Jelly into the pub with us for lunch the next day. Dogs are permitted in some pubs, in designated areas. How cool is that? After a short and very sweet visit, Alison chauffeurs me to the train station.

Friday, Dec. 11, 4:30 pm: I step out of the Bond Street Station onto Oxford Street - exactly one week after I first arrived - the air is quite a bit cooler. It's winter! Again, I am dazzled by the lights, the activity, the people, the energy. I am so happy to be here!! I begin to walk towards Jeremy's clinic and before I can get there, I see him standing on the median, trying to blend in with the traffic light pole.

We have tickets to see Bill Bailey at the O2 arena. He is a well known, popular comedian in the UK. He is doing a stand up show involving music, and the BBC orchestra is accompanying him. I laughed for two hours straight. After the show, Jeremy suggests we take a boat back to the centre of London, along the Thames. I think it's a great idea! What a way to end my time in London!!! But wait, there's more...after a nice walk through Soho and the crowded theatre district, we take a bicycle pedicab (driven by a guy from Toronto, no less) to probably the coolest bar I've ever been to. I will let the photos speak for themselves:

Swarovsky Crystal Bathroom

Alien Pod Bathroom

Those of you who know I take photos of unusual bathrooms from around the world, will see that I hit the jackpot here. I also got a couple winners in Africa! Jeremy and I were actually given a personal tour of the facility, which had 4 levels, 5 different rooms, two separate (and very distinct) bathrooms and a number of really cool interactive art installations. For example, on one wall there was a flashing light display which, if you looked at it long enough, you would see the word "LOVE" appear. The guy who gave us the tour was quite the character! He was from Belfast and had a fantastic Irish accent. He was somewhat flamboyant in his gestures and manner of speaking...however I am not going to assume he was gay. But I will say this: He definitely took a shine to one of us, and I don't think it was me. It's 2:00 am...time to go home. My last night in London is over...nooooooooo...I don't want to go back to reality...please don't make me!!

In summary, my week in London was one of the best times I've had in recent memory (as was my time in Namibia and in many other places I've visited, but in a different way). I ate and drank way too much, slept way too little, walked about a thousand miles, spent way too much money, had so much fun that I would probably be charged with an offence (or worse) in some parts of the world and I wouldn't change one minute of it...Thanks again, Jer!