Day 03: Going through the motions.

Alright, so today it kinda hit me. This was the first day I was actually pretty much all by myself and felt lonely here for the very first time. First thing I did was looking for Streatham Railroad Station, checking if it would be faster to go to work via train instead of the tube. It might be, but it is stupid. Thanks to the British not being too fond of streetsigns as is seems, it took me quite some time just finding the station. Streatham really is no pretty place, thankfully I am staying just between there and tooting bec. Then I found the train slow, I missed the connecting train and generally did notl ike the vibe it somehow had. Well. I'll take the tube.

I found the place rather easily when I arrived. To my suprise, I can see the Palace of Westminster and the London Eye from there. Nice :)

Afterwards I went on to visit the V&A and while I really like it there and the Giftshop is amazing with more than just that souvenir crap, I really was not feeling it. I forced myself to take a few pictures at the beginning but really could not further on. I did not even have the motivation to really read the map or a lot of the descriptions. I went on to the Natural History Museum, but really just to kill some time. I really want to go there again, though, when I am more motivated.
I don't know what exactly it was. Maybe it was just the malnutrition I'm experiencing here by eating too little and things I usually wouldn't (there is only white bread, jam and PB for breakfast, everyday the same...oh, and super duper sugary cereals if I wanted to with occasionally rotten milk, so I heard. They are actually German haha, I saw a Lidl not too far away). Or really just the feeling of loneliness I felt. Work is only starting on Monday and I did not really have the chance to meet anybody so far. Nevermind.

Day 02: Did you know they have traffic lights for trespassers in Germany? (02.09.2010)

In the morning, P called and we decided on a time and place to meet. We already made plans for hooking up today but still had to settle on a time and place. Brixton Station. 12.30 pm. Fun! So I got down, said good morning to my host who made me some nightmarish swill what she dared to call coffee (instant) but I'd rather call BÄH. It kinda tasted like burned toast, no other flavour, no real coffee. But maybe I was supposed to dip my actual toast into that stuff as this one really could have used some heat. I wasn't sure whether the jam actually contained strawberries but it does - though it really is pretty much at the end of the list of ingredients. hm Compared to German no-name products, British ones really really look as cheap as they are and well the quality; oh the quality...

Nevermind. Excited to meet P I got to Brixton which is really not too far away from my place. Thing was... my mobile screwed me over; it set itself back to German time in a magical process I only can assume - or maybe it just hates me for treating it that badly... Anyway. When P called I thought it was 11 already but it wasn't. I only realized that because I saw another watch at the tube station. Dayum. But hey, I had to keep myself busy so far and probably have to for a longer time here as I still don't know anybody and Brixton is awesome. It's very multicultural and especially influenced by African-Caribbean culture (excuse me if I'm wrong). So I took a short stroll around the outside market with reggae blasting from one side and dancehall from another. Germans would compare the atmosphere with a bazaar, but that's of a different cultural origin.

Afterwards, I chilled for a little while in front of the Ritzy, an old cinema with a story to tell (which I don't know...). Just there is a park with a not mentionworthy size having something on the ground which I would not really call a well or fountain, but rather a waterspraying play on the ground. I found it a bit odd that there were actually mothers with their children (I assume) meeting there, sitting on the little green areas having a picnic, their children wearing swimming clothes, playing in the water. You wouldn't find something alike in Germany, I assume.

Only after a little while, I returned back to Brixton Station, still waiting for P to arrive (who was on time, btw). Lucky for me, there was a little Starbucks (they are EVERYWHERE, seemingly squeezed into whatever small room is there) with a woman sporadically coming out offering free samples so I was able to mooch off some vanilla latte and a lemon frappucino of her - keeping me hydrated and saving me maybe 3Pounds or whatever that would have cost me (not that I was going to buy some, anyway).

When she finally emerged from the station - sporting an AWESOME do which unfortunately will be gone when she's back teaching - she showed me around Brixton Market, telling me what has changed around there, at the same time searching for a place to have authentic West Indian (/Caribbean) food for lunch (thank you for the invite again!). After dismissing two places, hungry and slightly impatient we settled on a small restaurant what she remembered to have been a nice Caribbean bakery, but is now a rather corny place resembling a hut, whith the most prominent colors being the ones of the Jamaican flag and palm trees painted onto the walls etc. (and little plates with proverbs - "Puss gaan, Rats tek ova", was is?). The music was not less corny, but nice consisting of disco music, early hip hop an so on - black artists, naturally.

Anyway, everything on the menu was authentic so P told me and turned out to be reeeaaally delicious! Both of us had some guinness punch (guinness beer, sweetened condensed milk and spice) she had jerk lamb w/ yam, a dumpling and banana (not sweet and rather dry and solid in its consistency, just like the other two - I got to try it, yeah! ) and I myself had jerk chicken with plantain (from the same family as bananas, tasting like a cross between them and potatoes). We both had rice and beans again, which is exactly that, rice and beans, duh. Leckerschmecker, and I will definitely eat in Brixton again. Oh, I had the decency to not wildly take pictures of everything while I was with her like a dumb tourist, so no pictures here, my bad. Maybe some other time.

After our great meal, we took a stroll over Brixton Market again, meeting one Jamaican shop-owner who lived in Germany for a while with her husband! As I had no definite plans for the afternoon, I took the tube to Greenwich over Canary Wharf, so we could still spend some time together before we both went our own ways. When we were in the tube, I was telling her about my encounter with an old lady in Sarstedt at a red traffic light which ended with me pretending not to be German so I don't have to listen to her nagging as I passed a red one (no car insight!). Alas, I mixed up the word "pedestrian" (Fußgänger) with "trespasser"(Eindringling, jemand, der unbefugt ein/dein Haus betritt) so everybody had a good laugh while I humiliated my stupid foreign me (just kidding).

After we said goodbye, I continued to Canary Wharf, a modern business and economy area with skyscrapers that don't scrape that much, but are quite impressive, nevertheless (too much stone, steel and glass for me, though.) After not too much time having passed, I finally took the DLR revisiting Greenwich, as I have been there on a school trip 3 years ago.

I was in two bookstores, looking for a certain book that I imagined I'd buy from one of these cute little ones rather than Barnes & Nobles which would not have that romantic cling to it, but nevermind. The One Pound Bookstore by the way turned into an ordinary one. :(
I also saw the playhouse we saw Romeo and Juliette in 3 years ago (the one which is actually a pub with just one little room for the play in the back) and had a Café au Lait dans Café Rouge just like we had then (do you remember, Mary?).

Money Shot - This is what everybody was wating for. ;)

 At the end of the day, I saw the Palace of Westminster, lingering in its small park for a little while.

Day 01:London Bridge is falling down - and I'm falling...into a funk??

Yeah well, not quite. As I was way too tired to write my first entry immediately, I'll have to make up for it today.

So the day of my departure had come. As my mind was filled with different things before, I didn't really have enough time to prepare myself so it kinda hit me like a suckerpunch. Packing was a bitch as usual, so I had to pay for overweight (well, you always gotta pay for THAT one). Lovely start. My plane took off at 6.50 am so getting up at 4 would have been okay, if I had managed to sleep at all – what I didn't. Blegh.

The flight itself was actually alright. There was supposed to be a transfer waiting for me to get me from London-Stansted to Streatham since taking the train, tube and bus with all my stuff seemed not only risky to me, but also pretty stressful – on a day that was quite stressful already. Which of course... wasn't. Tired, pissed and exhausted I waited for about half an hour before I started to fumble around for a paper with the so called „Emergency Number“ on, Just when I hit the call button, a boy – 16 I guess and obviously of Slavic origin – tipped me on the shoulder showing me a sign with what seems to be my new name around here (the last vowel of my last name has always been an O so far no matter with whom I have had contact to in Britain). Hello transfer boy whose name he never told me. Bring me to my destination, please. The „transfer“ itself was actually a real junker with an air refreshener that had „merry christmas“ on it in the back and the driver was a man with a grey, big, bushy beard in his mid-fifties probably. Dobře, Santa. Did I mention that the plate wasn't even British? Shady shady, I thought. But this odd couple actually turned out to be two cordial, funny Russians who told me a bit about London, living here and their habits. They also told me that if I don't want to get in trouble in LDN, I won't get in trouble. Good to know, honestly.

Due to rush hour traffic, it took us two hours to finally get to my new „home“ which turned out to be... a real dump. Seriously, I was shocked.

The old lady seemed nice (still does), but a bit went to rack and ruin – so is the place. It's dirty, stuffed with bibelot and what else and my room is really what I would call „versifft“. When I saw the dresser, I decided to leave my stuff in the suitcase. The wardrobe. Well, you can find hangers – a nice collection from the last 5 decades I assume – but also residues from who knows who, including – and by far the most delightfil object – a sheet of some random pills I am definetely never going to investigate any further.

De Fucking licious

Hello pills on the floor. Stay where yoe are, would you.

That was the moment I decided that couldn't live here. Two hours later, I came to terms with it. Now, I actually kinda like it. Feels just like home (well, somebody's at least who is not me, but nevermind...).

As I kinda knew that I would fall into a little bit of a funk on my first day, I purposely left my toothbrush and paste (just like shower gel, shampoo and deodorant – but that had something to do with trying to stay below the allowed weight of my luggage) at home so that I had to force myself out no matter what. The area seems to be a nice multicultural working class quarter – ugly and shabby, but in a peaceful way with decent people (as far as I can judge by now). There are shops right around the corner, good and cheap. After getting everything I needed, I decided to go somewhere, so I hopped pretty much onto a random bus, that took me to a random station, which turned out to be Tooting Broadway.


Lively place with shops and stuff, including what everybody I know who had been to London (or Bremen for that matter) loves: Primarck. And I got myself: Fancy-shmancy 5 Pound shoes with space invaders on the inside. SPACE INVADERS!

Space. Invaders.

Afterwards, I went on with my „mystery-marching“: I got into the tube and off on a place that sounded to be of interest – the London Bridge Area.

After walking around for a while, I realized that I had not eaten all day. Being the cheap fucker that I am (not having a lot money could have a certain influence on that), I settled on the first low priced restaurant that crossed my path: Pret-á-Manger. About 2.50 for a tuna-cucumber sandwich (with rocket, that I am slightly allergic to since this year...) and 2.35 or so for a „strong“ latte: First thing I ate on British soil.

London: The only place you consider this cheap...

After walking around in this area for a while, it was time to go „home“. Too bad I am still not good with the bus stations, so I got off too early and had to to what I actually planned not to: walking along the park at night. I had checked out the area already via google earth and considered it potentially dangerous, but anyway, seemed like it really isn't. As I told that to the lady I'm staying with, she too asured me that it isn't, but well, „some gentlemen like to meet there at night“. Well well, I can handle THAT.

Oh yeah, the walls in this house seem to be made out of paper that clairaudiant it is, the little Czech girl – maybe 19 years old and a stay of 3 weeks for a language course, ending on Sunday – who is staying here as well agreed on that. She also told me that we are actually lucky to be here, other people had it worse with their hosts.

So far for day one.