11 Dec London, like coming home, but not
It is around 1 degree Celsius outside, the sun is yet to show itself despite being seven thirty in the morning, and my Qantas pajamas are having a hard time keeping the cold at bay. Sure there are heaters in the house, and they do a pretty good job, but it would take a hell of a lot more than a few heaters to eliminate the cold emanating from walls which only take in sunshine for about a month each year.
In Perth the standard mantra for each summer is “It’s hot”, despite the regularity and consistent return of 35-40 degree temperatures, every year it is chanted with renewed surprise. In London the same chant can be found, with the words slightly altered to “It’s fuckin’ freezing”.
So Mexico is firmly in the rearview mirror, as is Perth (my mourning most assuredly more intense for the former), and despite being unable to let go of my pining for the land of Tacos, I am happy to be here visiting my mum and sister. It was hard saying goodbye to Sarah, knowing I would’nt see her again for almost 2 months (aside from the miracle that is Skype), but she has her big adventure to go on, and from my experience, absence does make the heart grow fonder and it will be great when we are reunited. Until then, I have websites to build, catching up to do, and cigarettes to smoke.
My time in London will be fun in its own way, aside from the obvious pleasure of seeing my family again for the first time in years (Sarah says 2, my mum says 3, and my brain is too littered with yester-years abuses to have an opinion either way), I am also looking forward to seeing a few things again, and soaking in the bizarre world of the POMs.
We went for a pub lunch yesterday, and the intense englishness of the establishment and its patrons made me chuckle inside. It was like being in an English soap set 30 or 40 years ago, listening to middle aged men complain about their ex-wives in a strong middle class accent, it was the quintessential English experience, only made more real by the plump bar girl with huge breasts flowing from her bar wenches outfit, a shiny stud poking out of her upper lip, offering a pint to go with our lamb shank, while the aforementioned divorcees leered at her obvious talents. Ahh, London.
We have a few things planned, but for the most part food will be the main agenda, I have to say I am already feeling a bit out of sorts from the heavy meals, and of course the multiple cups of coffee and their associated cigarettes aren’t helping much, as well as the jetlag still doing its thing.
My sister had to leave for work this morning, the start of a 5 day roster which sees here living in with a client, and I could not help but feel pity for all the poor souls that have to peel themselves out of bed in the cold, and face a day of gloomy overcast darkness, and that most foul of activities, a full time job. Hot or cold, which one is worse depends firmly on which one you are experiencing. In Perth I hated the intense heat and the sweaty visage it would induce, in London though, I find myself almost pining for even just a tiny ray of sunshine, I am yet to see one, or at least, I am yet to see one that actually has that most integral component of light, warmth.
Well, it is early days, and as long as I can make myself overcome the extreme lethargy I am currently feeling, I am sure we will have a lot of fun, and if I can’t, I can guarantee I will at least smoke a lot of cigarettes, drink a lot of coffee, and moan endlessly about the weather.