"By the time you translate your thoughts..."

Early this week, I found this video, called "How to be alone".

I don't think I've ever come across something which advocated the simple pleasures of introversion so heart-warmingly. I've known people to boast about how they enjoy being quiet, which instantly removes their right to stand on that particular soap box. People's eyes wander. Their fingers begin to tap and fidget. This video is a monument, a hauntingly precise testament to those wonderful fleeting moments when you find yourself alone in your mind, and you adore it. You might be sitting in a pub on your own with a tremendous book on a quiet Sunday afternoon when a sentence rebounds off of some memory you thought you had lost, and you tingle. You might be listening to "The Universe and You" by KT Tunstall when you suddenly, overwhelmingly, recall singing along to it as loud as you could whilst you blasted down some white-water in a canoe. You fingers grip a little tighter, your body shivers with that perfect bliss you know could never be conveyed in words. You might as well try to send the experience of colour.

Kew! That was a close one.

Sunday afternoons turned out not to be so bad either! I went on that cycle trip through Richmond park and along the Thames (see one post earlier). It claims it was about 9km but I took a big spontaneous detour. Plus my bike is designed for a midget who has a lust for mountains so I claim I use double the effort.

Eagle-eyed readers will see that the side of my bike appears to have the word "raPe" written on it. This is actually "rage". Get more eagle-eyed, dicks.

The journey through Richmond park is so heart-warming on warm weekends. Young families, couples, people with dogs and the elderly are out in force. Weaving side to side to avoid horse-riders, deer and bastard like me on mountain bikes. The whole time I was out, I was listening to "the Angel's Game" by Carlos Ruis Zafon. This was my first time listening to it, but already I'm a couple of hours in and enjoying this narrator thoroughly. Audible, the audio book app by Amazon, has a nice feature where you can click back 30 seconds. Just enough to catch back to the part you last read without going miles too far and having to fiddle with it.

A deer on its own.

A shitey view of the pen-ponds, where I dipped my feet for a while.

I found my way to a viewpoint I'd never noticed before. Shamefully, I have absolutely no idea where I was, or what direction this is pointing on. I suspect south west.

Apart from a brief segment of a bus journey, I had never been to Richmond proper before. The people naming the town had absolutely no sense of irony, because the town is RICH. Even the shittiest hovels had a sort of perfumed air about them. I came across a series of flats on the side of a little outcrop which looked down on the Thames far below. Hills are a costly rarity in Landan, which is why the little statues sitting on the doorsteps might as well have been loud-mouthed youths shouting "WEALTH!. WEALTH! HERE BE WEALTH!"

Instantly, I wanted some. Then I remembered I come from a home with a a view over one of the engineering marvels of the world, Edinburgh, half of Fife and the forth; and it cost 1/30th of those places. Puts things into perspective.

The view over the Thames that those houses enjoyed. You'd hardly believe you were in one of the biggest cities in the world.

After Richmond, I decided to trace the Thames all the way back to Putney, before I would curve right through the roads to hit Southfields (where I now live). Typically, I got entirely lost, and ended up on the wrong side of the river in a place called Kew. You might have heard of Kew Gardens before, which is a lovely example of how people attempt to create serenity directly below a major flight path. The village of Kew surrounds these gardens and is, overall, a wonderful part of Landan. I have a fondness for it, because it is where I stayed when looking for a flat last December, after discovering I had gotten the PhD. That was a hard time (tossing and turning as to whether to ignore my apprehensions and go for it, or to give in to them as a sensible warning), and it was bliss to return with 6 months worth of perspective. I snapped some shots of some memorable locations, and stopped in a pub called the six bells where Torun and I had stopped for a drink one cold December evening.

Maids of honour. A tea room that I was far too sweaty and poorly dressed to enter without a guilty conscience. It was really heartening to see it again, out of the blue :)

Steam museum. Holy moly.

The high class joint I stayed in last December.

Inside the 6 bells, where it was the first Sunday of them trying a free for all live music bash. It was BRILLIANT and the bar lady was so friendly. She came over and chatted with me about her fathers day plans. The atmosphere was very laid back, and I wished I was good enough with my sax to join in. Maybe soon...

Last year we grabbed a beer here before going back to the Travelodge to devour a pot noodle. Also to complain about the fact "Travelodge" has only one "L". Uuuuurgh.

I'm back home now, and ready for a long snooze. The Thames cycle route was just dandy, but my eyes had the hayfever-carrying wind in them the whole way back so I feel like I need to hold clean, cool water over them.

Thanks for reading :D

Bacon and Pancakes

Sunday mornings are absolutely my favourite time of the week these days. Just a chance to wake up slow, and roll out of one bed into another. Except the second bed is made out of pancakes.

The sun is shining in the sky, there ain't a cloud in sight. I've given my garden a little water, because London has been hot enough to dry the soil very quickly. I'm just in from munching on some breakfast with my Kiwi flatmate Jamie, feeling very leafy and awash with the scent of basil, parsley, rosemary, lemon thyme and lavender come from the plants. Aaaah yeah.

Never come to me if you want your food to look pretty.

Whilst it hasn't been a hugely eventful week, I've had a bit of luck with some pretty important things to me. When talking with one of the other PhD students during a game of tennis last month, she told me a little bit about the way she and her fiancee had travelled when they were a bit younger. They used a site called help X (http://www.helpx.net/) to get in contact with hosts who were looking to take in travellers who were willing to work for their upkeep. She had nothing but positive things to say about it, as she had met nice people, done some fantastic jobs (building a dry stone wall in New Zealand, for instance), and travelled cheaply. Sounded good to me! I've had itchy feel ever since I got used to being in London and realised I was much more prepared to travel. There aren't going to be many places more intimidating than this big galuf of a city.

So, I got in touch with a couple of hosts living around Trondheim. It seemed a sensible choice of location, as i am familiar with the city so wouldn't feel totally screwed if it turned out to be horrible. Plus, I want to go back to Norway in my own right, since I love it so much there. It would be a tragedy to lose such a wonderful place because of some hard feelings over a person. Travelling there will be a pleasure, and a way to ensure I make it special on my own. I have a really good feeling about it.

I got a reply from one of the hosts, a friendly couple with two kids living about 5km from Trondheim centre. I vaguely remember having been driven on that road by Torun last year, so I might actually recognise the place, who knows. It looks like a very beautiful location, and they say the world will mainly invovle painting, picking berries and mushrooms, looking after their animals, general household chores and perhaps learning how to restore 150 year old windows. I'd be keen to pick up a skill whilst I was there!

They say there are lots of opportunities for hiking and fishing (not that I can do the latter, but I could definitely learn!) It's right on Trondheimsfjord, and if the weather is anything like it was in Ånn last year, that will be a blessing. Apparantly I will be working 5 hours a day, with the rest of the time free. Though I would really like to spend a lot of time with my hosts. I hope I will be able to cycle in to Trondheim and see my friends there. I understand they have busy summers too though.

For the rest of today, I'm going on a wee cycle somewhere. Yet to decide where, but I'm sure I'll work it out as I go. Pictures to follow! I'm planning on this route: http://www.cycle-route.com/routes/Southfields_To_Richmond-Cycle-Route-1389.html

Excuse me Sir, is this the train to London?

This is the first time I've written a blog entry from my phone, so it'll be quite interesting to see how knackered my thumbs get if I write for too long...

I'm on my way back from Cambridge after visiting Will and Ciara for the weekend. It was the cherry on top of a grand week where I got a lot done, and got to spend almost every night doing something new. The most social I've been since I came to London! Will came down for a conference at one of the nearby hospitals. As a Cambridge phd student, he is in a position to make some very influential contacts, and my God did he make the most of it. He was particularly fond of a principle investigator called Dr Richard D. Rainbow. Some people are magnets for 'guid chat' :p.

Will loving the hell out of Piccadilly Circus (aka shit Times Square)

We went out to wimbledon for a pint, where Will drilled holes in my project ideas. Whilst adding more gaping holes to my theoretical basis and ideas for protocols I can use with the MRI scanner can be annoying, it is the only way I can learn how to bung them over the course of this voyage. We got drunk, and my next day at uni was, surprisingly, massively productive.

On Thursday, we decided we needed to find a steak. Will made the best tourist I've shown around Central London yet, because his entire reaction to the houses of parliament was a brief unimpressed upturn of the eyes and, 'that's big'. Whereas to the London Eye he said 'that's that wheel aye? ' and moved on. People like him have a sense of scale I could desperately make use of. I've got a terrible habit of trying to make a story or record of every moment.

He says, writing this blog...

We sauntered along the South Bank and had a drink in the Royal festival hall, which is fast becoming my standard first 'date ' in London. We noticed none other than Gok Wan in one of those boutiques which sell random combinations of ceramic crap and clothing, nearby. I wanted a picture, Will didn't. He won, ruining my chance to take photos evidence of my vague proximity to someone I don't care about from the television.

We gambled our way up the Thames, forsaking gourmet pizza, pub steaks and stir fry joints in the hope that we would stumble upon the pearly, medium rare gates of a brilliant steakhouse before we starved to death. With great fortune, we chose to stick on the swan, a bar and restaurant attached to the globe theatre (reconstructed to look the same as when Shakespearean plays were performed there).

Every part of the EXPERIENCE of the meal, was top class. The waitress was beyond compare with her effortless politeness, slipping the word 'gentlemen ' into conversation instantly without a hint of scorn despite the sophistication of the establishment. She deserved every penny of her not-insubstantial tip! I would go so far as to ask for her if we went again. The view outside of the window beside our table was of the dome of St. Paul's cathedral, which started off striking and went somewhere else entirely when darkness fell and floodlights painted the exterior a sensational mix of restful warm tones and sharp shadowy blacks.

View from our window

Best of all, was the meal itself. We drank fine wine (though far from the finest on the menu, or the price would've quadrupled!) had smooth islay whisky, delicious but otherwise unremarkable profiteroles, and... Oh bedt of all... The steaks. We had a 300g sirloin apiece, covered with heart-rendering perfect garlic butter. Each bite was met with a sudden weakness in the core muscles as our bodies redirected all its resources to experiencing every drop of that taste. I could not have stood from that table before that steak was done. It came with beef tomato, roasted olive oil covered red onions and chips. How they made something as simple as fucking CHIPS so top of the line, I'll never know. For the two hours it took us to finish the meal, my heart and mind were walking hand in hand through a world of insane adoration, with epiphany waiting around every corner.

Throw your computer to the ground and go to the fucking Swan!

Steak and awwwGodeverythingisamazing

There is a girl about my age with a lovely south English accent sitting in the same coach as me. We're on the train fairly early so we're alone on the entire train. Socially awkward penguin moment, which doesn't worry me at all. It's a character trait I accept that I shall always have flights of fancy with those pretty women I meet, but that's no excuse to try to breach the wall for no other reason than that I'm bored of being alone. Amazing the sort of banal nonsense I think up after spotting a pretty face. Then again, she's talking about shoes on the phone, so i guess we're both succumbing to stereotypes. Ah, a gentleman just sat across from me, so the spell is broken. Thus, to London!

On Friday night, we met with one of Will's old friends, had a basic dinner (our tastebuds were ruined for other food) and went out for a drink in Leicester Square. Apparently that us where all the film premiers happen, and i wasn't sure how I'd missed wandering around it despite being so familiar with covent Garden and the surrounding area. It was a good night, where I was given the chance to really, truly vent about an issue close to my heart. In the same way that I won't read my previous entry again, I think it is best to leave the experience in the past, but take the lessons forward.

Leicester Square

So, Cambridge this weekend :). Seeing Ciara again was a blessing after so long, and just like my previous visit, i felt utterly at home in her company as well as will's. We engaged in the most intense game of drink-jenga you will ever know, and resorted to flirting with each individual block. We showed sone prowess with block removal that can ONLY be explained by our efforts in seduction.

I briefly met with my auntie Janie, who is a whole new experience every time. I hadn't been to her house  since I was a young teenager, and i found myself walking through my own resurgent memories at the same time I entered through her door. Phantom images of her out of control garden were swiped away in puffs and smoke by the flush colours of the well maintained current reality. The furniture and the various scattered posters from the many places she has travelled to, matched the phantoms perfectly. Not to mention her bookshelves, which had been so full for so long they were bending in the middle.

We caught up over a beer, and for a beautiful moment, I felt like I had the respect of this heroic woman who had ceaselessly loved me, but now could actually related to me, and find my pursuits and achievements genuinely interesting. I left her company in wonderful spirits, feeling again that I had gone through some striking experience that I would carry with me for a long time. Though I would find it hard to relate exactly why.

I am now approaching Kings Cross in London, where I will slip onto a tube with my audio book in my ear, thinking about the past and the future in tandem. Shadow of the wind is a book with a compelling narrative, brought to life by its fascinating narrator. He draws you into a world where the past is explored through sheer curiosity, with a mystery only emerging as an almost accidental coincidence. It is perfect for teasing you into reflecting upon your own interests, in relation to those highlighted in the heart warming main characters.

Turns out my thumbs are pretty sore, but I'll spend a few more moments linking in some pictures.

I hope you have a good Sunday. Until next time.

Lost in London (Part 2)

 The Changes

One of the first things I did when I arrived in London was find my flat! It's in a place between Wimbledon and Putney called Southfields. What I love about it, is that unlike anywhere else in London, it has a small village feel. My flat is 5 minutes walk from the lawn tennis club that Wimbledon is famous for, and 2 minutes away fro Wimbledon Common. Within an hour cycle are about 10 parks, including the massive and deer filled Richmond park of Fenton fame. 

The flat is quite cozy, though it lacks a living room. It had a modern and quite spacious kitchen with attached balcony. Even better is that my room links directly on to the balcony, where I have put in effort sculpting a bit of a garden. I have all sorts of plants in there that the local wildlife love. When it was still winter, I had a few bluetits (I think) living in the birdbox and pinching seed from the feeders. Pigeons are the main visitors now, alongside mischievous squirrels and the adorable neighbourhood cat, named "Creepy" by one of my old flatmates (who didn't like cats). Below are a few pictures of the flat.

Why did they put a wall in between...

Creepy, sneaking in.

My Garden :). I repaired the rocking chair.

My room, with a picture of Radjabikey.

My Gran's blanket :). Couldn't be without it.

I've gained a real passion for taking cycling trips and walks. The seasons have changed fiercely since I arrived, and so I have become familiar with the world in both drought and snow. Below are some pictures of my favourite sights on my trips:

Snoooooow

Brilliant Dog in Wimbledon Common.

Some Deer in Richmond Park

Geese swimming in Barnes

Westhumble Station, only 15 minutes south of Wimbledon, but out in the middle of beautiful nowhere.

Brighton Pier

The Bridge crossing St James' Park

Wimbledon Common in Summer

Deer in Summer

Further up the Thames

Next to Hampton Court

 I have discovered the wonders of west end shows, oh me oh my. I've been to several performances with my choir, taken part in a 10k run for charity, had a couple tap dancing lessons, tennis lessons, games of badminton. I even went for a game of 5 aside football that almost killed me. In addition to this, I found my way inside the Houses of Parliment when I went to see another PhD student talk about some of her research.  No I did NOT steal a bottle of water....

Triforce Tennis

Inside the Houses.

Definitely not a bottle of House of Lords water.

A rainy day with the choir.

Giving it our all!

Bit sore from cycling

The Lord's chamber

The start of my Jubilee celebrations. Don't worry, I was miming to Floo'er O' Scotland.

View from Boxhill, looking towards Brighton.

My hair has changed a little, too.

Oh aye.

Though I still spend a lot of time on my own, I've managed to go do some brilliant things with friends both old and new :).

Band night at the Windmill in Brixton

Keri and I, off to see Wicked :)

Torun gazing over Kingsmere.

Flora and Steve

The poetry book given to me by Ieva, my Latvian friend who will not be photographed.

My first West end show :)

The Southampton Norwegians.

Flatmate Jamie with me at the Diamond Jubilee Pageant.

My old flatmate Kate and I enjoying cock'n'balls ice cream.

I'll fill you in on more recent happenings in part 3 :).