Are you trying to seduce me, Lady Liberty?

Where London took its time to warm up to me, New York seems to have pulled out all the stops.

Leaving Heathrow was easy enough, though one incident at customs left me with a bad impression. I was lining up to go through border control for one final check of my passport before leaving the country, when I let an elderly Indian lady through, who was in a wheelchair (who may or may not have been rather deaf). At this point the customs agent in front of my line yelled out to his mate across the room “Oi, she could do with a shave!”. To which they then exchanged an across-the-room high five, and took my passport out of my hand, while I stood there in shock. He looked at my passport photo, then at me, and asked if I was alright, but in that way that suggests you had better be alright unless you wanted a full cavity search. Deciding that this was not a battle I should fight if I wanted to make my flight, I nodded for yes and retrieved my passport. Not my finest moment, but nor was it Britain’s.

The flight was decent enough. I flew Virgin Atlantic, and was thrilled to see that the two seats next to me were empty, and I was looking forward to a very pleasant flight when all of a sudden a rather large sweaty man appeared, and took his seat next to me. Still, he turned out to be a very nice guy, and was very happy to discuss the fineries of investment banking in New York, at some length. I spent part of the time listening politely, part of it trying to learn something, and part of it hoping that maybe he knew somebody who could get me a job there.

Our flight arrived on time, and I was a little nervous at clearing customs – I was mentally prepared to avoid all joking and humour with the guards whose sole job is to make life difficult for anybody that highlights the difficulty of smuggling ostrich eggs. Turned out to be all rather uneventful though, as I was just waived through with only one question (‘You came from London?”) to slow me down.

I was being met at the airport by my good friend Rohan (from university), and was waiting in the arrivals lounge when a man from the information desk approached me and asked if I would like two free tickets to the Yankees game that night.

I said yes.

Rohan arrived soon after that, and after finding out about the night’s sudden entertainment plans, we marched straight onto the train into town. With the game due to start at 7.30, we were running a little late but hoped to still see a good chunk of regardless. Then it started to rain. Really rain. Hard. We doubted whether the game would start, but we decided we’d go to the game anyway. We arrived at the stadium at 8.30, to discover that not only had it stopped raining, but that the brief downpour had delayed start until just before 9pm, meaning that we got to our seats just before the first pitch was thrown.

Nobody does live sports like the Americans. Lights blazing, bright colours, and spectacularly massive television screens promised that we would be in for a very slick evening. The game opened with the National Anthem (complete with karaoke for those of us who don’t know all the words), and then we were into it. It was really a lot of fun to watch, though I did get confused a couple of times and cheered for the wrong team (not the best idea at Yankee Stadium!).

The game ended around midnight, with the Yankees beating the Kansas City Royals 8-2 at the bottom of the ninth.

So far it appears that New York is a very different place to be, and if last night is anything to go by, I think I’m going to like it here.

Farewell, London

I knew this would happen.

Okay, here I am. My last day in London. The sky is blue, the birds are singing, and I don't really want to leave. I'm very excited about flying to New York tomorrow, sure. But my last week here has been as close to a normal week as I've had in a while, and I quite enjoyed it.

My week in Paris was officially my last week off work - from now on I have to earn money if I want any chance of enjoying the rest of my trip. So I've spent this week 'back at the office' (read: 'working remotely'), which involved a few meetings here in London and some work on my laptop.

Basically my holiday is now over, and now I'm just working my way around the world. I'll admit to it being quite a shock getting back behind a computer screen for hours at a time, but it didn't take me too long to get back into it and now I'm being a productive member of society, only in another country.

The other thing is that I've started making friends here (this in my last week). I've been hanging out a bit with my friend (Morgan, who's house I'm staying at), and his flatmate Chris.

Through them I'm now starting to meet a few new people - and also see more of the things that make London so much fun to be in. I still haven't done the London Eye, or St Paul's Cathedral (though I have stood outside them both); but I have explored a fair chunk of the greater London area now, and I think I'm starting to get a feel for what it would be like to live here.

But now I've packed my bag (still only the one bag, I'm doing pretty well!), and I'm ready to set sail for the land of the long white crowd. I had to cull some items from my backpack today; mainly to fit my new suit and shoes into (look at me being fancy with a second pair of shoes!), but also mainly because I had to remove two shirts just to fit my nice bottle of scotch into my bag, while making sure that there remained ample clothing to buffer the bottle from breaking in transit. I suspect that arriving at JFK airport smelling like Christian Slater might hold me up in customs somewhat!

I'm being met at the airport my my good buddy Rohan - one of my mates from uni who is now doing his PhD at NYU. From there he'll take me back to my other friend's house where I'll stay for a couple of days while I get the hang of the city and look for a part time/temporary job in the Big Apple. I've found a couple of possibles that have interested me so far, but a lot of the ones I'm interested in require at least a Master's degree AND five year's post Master's experience. I don't have either of those.

I'll have to see what happens; I'm sure something will come up. In the end I don't mind what it is I do while I'm there, but if at all possible I would like it to be something interesting, or worthwhile, or career-developing.

So here ends my London adventure; or at least for this part of my trip. I leave having enjoyed my time here quite a bit, and would like to return some time in the future.

So long, London. We part, but we part as friends.

I give you 8.5/10

I'm just a boy, standing in front of a suburb...

Sometimes what you're looking for is right under your nose. Other times, it's in Spanish.

Yesterday I visited Notting Hill for lunch. We found this great little Spanish place which I'm not supposed to mention because it's a great secret. There were a few people there when we arrived; many locals enjoying the requisite 'yellow food' (eggs, sausages, chips, and toast). Not that I can't see why; from the looks of the cafe it seems just like any other: open store front, quiet unassuming kitchen, giant frying pan full of paella, black rice, and other exotic delights - why wouldn't you want a sausage?

I soon discovered however that this cafe produced excellent Spanish cuisine, if you could have guessed. I ordered the special, which turned out to be the biggest pork knuckle I had ever seen, and my friend ordered a hot chocolate. As soon as the hot chocolate came out I knew we were in for a treat. This thing was so thick that her teaspoon stood upright, producing a wave of excitement around the table, and inducing an empathy-diabetic coma. Then my pork knuckle arrived. Somebody once said 'Never eat anything bigger than your head'. I never was any good at doing what I was told. It was delicious, if not a little salty, and afterwards it was all I could do to stand up after the meal and pay for lunch.

After lunch we headed over to the Portabello Market at Notting Hill - basically a great street market with everything from expensive antiques (I saw an 800STG magnifying glass!) to churros.

If I had to pick, I'd say that Notting Hill is my favourite suburb so far in London. It's a very pretty part of town, with pretty buildings (a different pretty to the rest of London), pretty streets, and pretty people. I wouldn't recommend the market if you value your personal space (wallets get taken routinely there), but if you're a little careful and look a little 'P-eyed', then you'll usually get a little more room to move than most. I will admit to looking around for Hugh Grant, or that other British guy that was in the film, but all I could see were stall owners, gypsies, and rich folk looking to buy a periscope or luxury shoe horn.

In summary: Notting Hill (the suburb) good. Notting Hill (the movie) not actually real.

About London

I'm beginning to think that I've been doing this wrong.

I came to London expecting, well I'm not sure what I was expecting. I was hoping though that I would come here and quickly develop a significant social network or two, meet new people and make some great friends here, all the while spending time in one of the world's great capitals. I thought I could do this by just being here, and that by hanging out with all the people that I already know here it would all just fall into place.

This hasn't happened.

Aside from the difficulties that the English have with accepting new friends into their lives (which I still believe to be true), I think that I have handicapped myself by coming here as a tourist, rather than on a working holiday. I believe that if I were in a repetitive social situation (office, behind a bar, in an improv group), then maybe things would be different.

I think it's important now to state here that I am having a great time here, but I'm having a great time here as a tourist; seeing the sights and visiting friends. I think my frustration is due to my hoping that my London visit would be more than just as a tourist; perhaps a potential immigrant that the city would try and seduce into staying, rather than a guest that the city is polite to and shows a good time, but nothing more.

I don't think I can honestly say that I know what it would be like to live in London though. I'm starting to think that the best way to really experience a city like London is to actually live in it. People who visit the city probably don't fall in love with the place and move here, while most of the people who come on a working holiday tend to stick around for at least a few years.

London really does appear to be a city which you need to live in to enjoy. You can spend a week here and have a great time, or you can spend a couple of years here and love it.

Pros and Cons of London Town

With a little under four days left in London, I have decided to compile a pro/cons list of London, or in Layman's terms: "yay, London" and "boo, London".

Things I like about London:

You can get anything you want here. Sure, it sounds a little materialistic, and maybe it is.

Though I do appreciate being able to buy things I'm not able to get easily back home (wild game and certain other types of food - truffles, for instance).

There is a lot to do. Much like the food and other consumables, London is a swarm of activity and a treasure trove of things to occupy your time. I have enjoyed exploring the city and its attractions, though there is still so much that I haven't done yet: St Paul's Cathedral, the Tower Bridge, the London Eye, the Queen... but I don't think you can ever have ever really done everything in London - it's that big.

The West End, Covent Garden, Picadilly Circus, and Notting Hill. This category pretty much speaks for itself. All good places, all good times. Notting Hill is my favourite suburb.

The Borough Market. My favourite place in London. Without a doubt.

Acorn House (Restaurant). England's first (only?) eco-friendly restaurant. I went there for dinner, it was delicious!

The Tube (when it works). A great way to get around, especially as London is ginourmous.

It's just a cool city. There's a lot to do here, and it's mostly fun. I continue to have a blast here, despite now having to resume working for a living.

Things I like less about London:

The Tube (when it doesn't work). Every weekend the Jubilee line is closed for planned engineering work. I live on the Jubilee line. This has been the cause of some consternation and some considerable creativity in making my way across town.

It's expensive. Not London's fault, really. Difficult when you're spending NZ dollars though.

The number of people. It's because I'm a kiwi; I'm not used to having millions of people inside my personal bubble. Not a major complaint, but still hard to get used to.

The food. In general, the food here is fair to middling. It's true that you can find great food in many places, but these places are often either hard to find, a secret, or are prohibitively expensive. There are some gems, and I've found a couple. But in general, it's a little average.

On balance, still really like London. But since that I've spent the most time here out of anywhere so far, I have the chance to explore it better than anywhere else on my trip.

I can see why people love it here, but I think that it's kind of like a romance - you love somebody despite their flaws; they're never completely perfect.

London (a poem)

O, London!

You are so big

and manly

Chavs

The tube carries me where I need to go

The tube breaks

a little boy waits

Your history is vast

and expensive

There is so much to do and I,

I have so little time but

99p Beer

5 pound Beer

Fun

Play

Explore

Too many Australians

Maps don't help me.

Of men and muffins

Every now and then a complete stranger can make your day.

Having under a week left in London, I decided that I would make the most of it and go to see a show. I had initially planned to see more than just a couple of shows while I was here, but have only managed the two so far. So tonight I made my way into Picadilly Circus, found a half-price ticket booth, and looked at what was on offer.

I have plans to see Wicked in New York so that was out, otherwise it was fair game. I was initially drawn to La Cage aux Folles (the Birdcage) with John Barrowman, but then I noticed a flyer for a play called 'The Woman in Black" - a horror-noir that has been running in London for 20 years. I figured that it would be cool to see something a little darker and so I got my ticket, and headed to the theatre.

I was a little early, so I walked to the corner to people-watch, and eat my sandwich when I looked up at and saw a street sign "Drury Lane". During my time here in London, I have seen several famous streets or areas - Puddle Lane, Bond Street, Picadilly Circus, Mayfair, and all other kinds of Monopoly famous. But this was my first nursery rhyme street.

I was pondering this when a man walked past me, with a nod and polite eye contact. What happened next seemed to happen all on its own, and without a word of a lie happened exactly like this:

Me: "excuse me, do you know The Muffin Man?"

Stranger: (confused) "The Muffin Man?"

Whoa, this is actually happening.

Me: "The Muffin Man"

Stranger: "Do I know The Muffin Man"

He's playing with me - but he looks so confused!

Me: "...who lives on Drury Lane!"

Beat. He looked at me and shook his head. Then he turned away and did one of the most spectacular double takes I had ever seen. Smiling, all he could do was say "no way" and walk off, realising only now what had just happened. Me, I just turned around and, feeling particularly pleased with myself, headed into the theatre for what turned out to be a particularly wonderful show.

It was a very surreal, but particularly awesome experience. One that I may never get to do again.