London - arrival
Well, hello there!
Since everyone these days seems to have a travel blog, I thought I'd take a running leap at the bandwagon. Since I'm absolutely awful at the whole keeping in touch thing, this may very well be a very short-lived experience, but let's hope for the best.
I arrived in London, cramp-legged and exhausted, after a flight from Taipei. I can't imagine how I'm going to feel when I go back to New Zealand direct for Jungin's wedding in December. I'd like at this point to thank Mr Eddie Vedder for his invaluable contribution to my sanity on the flight over.
So, anywho, I arrived and to my relief walked straight through customs and found Gareth waiting for me at the airport. At this point I was carrying something in excess of 30kg in luggage, so having someone to lump with one of my bags was bliss, as was not having to find my way on the (at first glance rather intimidating) tube to an address which I had lost on the flight over. Eyes drooping, I remember very little of the tube ride to Gareth's flat, except that at one point we ran into an ex-colleague of his.
Reaching Gareth's flat by walking through streets that struck me as somehow quaint, but which are actually quite dangerous, I pumped up the air bed that he'd gone and bought me, and we talked for ages about nothing much before going to sleep.
This, usually, would be the end to an arrival story, except that on this particular night, at about 3am, a piercing female scream split the night. Being gentlemen of valour, both Gareth and I leapt from our beds and raced down three flights of stairs to come to the rescue. Unfortunately, this gallant attempt was somewhat diminished by the fact that we were beaten to the scene by the little old lady under whose window the crime had transpired. What had happened, we later learned, over the quintessentially English cup of tea, was that a little guy had been following her, and when she turned off the main road, he came running at her. Her instinctive reaction was to attempt to break the nearby windows with a scream, and then hold onto her purse (which he'd grabbed) in a death grip. Needless to say, when lights started to come on, the villain gave it up as a botched job and legged it into the darkness before the cavalry arrived, luckily for him!
So that, unembellished, is the story of my first night in London.
"I'm so sorry, I was miles away"
Since everyone these days seems to have a travel blog, I thought I'd take a running leap at the bandwagon. Since I'm absolutely awful at the whole keeping in touch thing, this may very well be a very short-lived experience, but let's hope for the best.
I arrived in London, cramp-legged and exhausted, after a flight from Taipei. I can't imagine how I'm going to feel when I go back to New Zealand direct for Jungin's wedding in December. I'd like at this point to thank Mr Eddie Vedder for his invaluable contribution to my sanity on the flight over.
So, anywho, I arrived and to my relief walked straight through customs and found Gareth waiting for me at the airport. At this point I was carrying something in excess of 30kg in luggage, so having someone to lump with one of my bags was bliss, as was not having to find my way on the (at first glance rather intimidating) tube to an address which I had lost on the flight over. Eyes drooping, I remember very little of the tube ride to Gareth's flat, except that at one point we ran into an ex-colleague of his.
Reaching Gareth's flat by walking through streets that struck me as somehow quaint, but which are actually quite dangerous, I pumped up the air bed that he'd gone and bought me, and we talked for ages about nothing much before going to sleep.
This, usually, would be the end to an arrival story, except that on this particular night, at about 3am, a piercing female scream split the night. Being gentlemen of valour, both Gareth and I leapt from our beds and raced down three flights of stairs to come to the rescue. Unfortunately, this gallant attempt was somewhat diminished by the fact that we were beaten to the scene by the little old lady under whose window the crime had transpired. What had happened, we later learned, over the quintessentially English cup of tea, was that a little guy had been following her, and when she turned off the main road, he came running at her. Her instinctive reaction was to attempt to break the nearby windows with a scream, and then hold onto her purse (which he'd grabbed) in a death grip. Needless to say, when lights started to come on, the villain gave it up as a botched job and legged it into the darkness before the cavalry arrived, luckily for him!
So that, unembellished, is the story of my first night in London.
"I'm so sorry, I was miles away"
posted by Not My Former at 8:50 AM
1 Comments:
Wow! What an adventure! I admire your gallant instinct and am glad that it was such an exciting and real start for you :)
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