September 2001

My London diary-- the first thrilling entry!

So, it's a foggy day in London town. I'm not kidding--it really is. The sun has yet to shine down ala the jazz standard, but I'm content enough anyway. I'm writing this from my little desk in the front room of the flat which I'm sharing (though, to be technical about it, leeching off of) my lovely boyfriend, Neil. Outside, I can hear all the cars and people on Earl's Court road. But here, in the flat, it's pretty dang peaceful.

Anyways, if you've been following my story at all recently (which I assume you have, seeming as you five readers are generally friends of mine), you know that I moved here, to London, around a month ago. Yes, it was indeed a big step for a Canuck girl used to big skies, a big car, and lots of space. But I have to confess--I love it. There's so much to do, and see, and the city is never, ever, boring. And, of course, the company is great, even though my mother can't seem to believe that I'm not driving Neil insane. (I'm not that bad, am I? I mean, I'm messy, but I'm not dirty, heavens, no!)

I will, of course, admit that I've had my moments of frustration. The worst was when I got lost on Oxford Street, probably the busiest shopping street in the English speaking world. After inhaling a ton of car exhaust, while being broadsided by busy shoppers, and getting different directions from everyone I asked, I couldn't help it. And so there I was, crying with frustration into my mobile phone. But don't worry, Neil came and rescued me. "You know," he said, in his lovely accent, "I see people freaking out down here all the time. I never know if I should say something, or if that will just make it worse." So, I guess I'm not alone.

For the most part, however, it's not really that noticeable that I'm surrounded by, um, seven million other people (more than the population of Ontario, I bet). That's because this is really a city of different little villages, all strung together by history and the Tube. Once you get past the noisy street directly outside the flat, our village, the (ahem) Royal Borough of Kensington and Chelsea, is really really lovely--filled with parks, cafes, museums and good shopping. Come visit, why don't you?

One other thing that I've noticed is that London is not really living up the doubtful bits of its reputation. How, you ask? Well, here's a few points:

1. The food is great. And I mean it. The supermarkets here have an awesome selection of stuff from all over the world, plus lots of yummy sweets, coz the English love their puddings. And, there are funky sandwich bars such as Pret a Manger and EAT on every street corner, where you can get a filled baguette or a sushi box for less than three quid. Oh, and I cannot say enough about the takeout and ready meals from Marks and Spencer. Yummy. I will admit that it is a bit pricier to eat out, in the way that us gen-Xer Canadians do rather obsessively, but that's really the only drawback. And, as a 90% vegetarian here, I can easily avoid steak and kidney pie.

2. The people are friendly. Londoners might be a bit more, um, reserved than Canadians, but generally everyone is extremely polite and pleasant, especially in the service industry. London is lodged somewhere between the general frostiness on the streets of Toronto and the overzealous camaraderie of Albertans (when I was buying a pair of running shoes in Edmonton in July the shoe salesman wound up telling me his life story) on this account. However, people here are polite and nice where it counts--- Londoners will gladly give you directions, and help fellow passengers haul baby carriages up the Tube steps.

3. And, I've noticed that there isn't a sizable percentage of people with bad teeth, aside from Austin Powers, of course.

Yes, of course, there are a few things that I don't like about living here. The most prominent one of these is the pollution, but I have a feeling that I'd be battling that in any city of this size. I don't really understand why anyone would want to drive here (aside from a stylin' Vespa moped or one of those little Smarte cars which I'm obsessed with), but that probably has a lot to do with my Canadian sense of distance. An hour's journey (distance wise) is a long one here-unlike at home, where' we'll hop in the car for 5 hours round trip just to go shopping.

And, the more time I spend here, the more I do realize that though Canadians and English people share a common language, there is a cultural divide. I still don't know if I should try to adapt to English ways a bit more (How should I say the word "tomato? And should I eat with my knife?), but it's certainly interesting to pick up on all the little differences. And, of course, England English is much different from that Anglo Canadian language. For example, hey, Canadians out there, would you have any idea what a "bin liner" is? And could you tell me what "a big girl's blouse" is? (Apparently Neil is one of these.)

At any rate, I'm going to have to keep on writing about all of my adventures and observations here. And so, I have a feeling that this column is going to be devoid of actual rants for a while (unless I really feel the need) while I chronicle my current adventure. Be patient, dear reader, and let me know if things are going pear-shaped. (There's another one for you Canadians to look up.)

Cheerio from London,

Love Lyz