Snow Day in London

After a blogging hiatus of a few months, I am back to share the excitement of a Snow Day in London! It started snowing last night around 7pm and within a few hours there was at least an inch or two of snow. Like beautiful snow-globe snow, it continues to come down and on the way to class this morning I saw people of all ages out building snowmen. Although the buses were canceled, the Tube lines delayed and the City of London recommending people don't travel, people were out indulging the inner child to play in the snow. To me, it was like having a bit of home here for a visit. Recalling snow days from childhood, when friends would gather with their sleds at the best sledding spots as soon as school was called off, I smiled all the way to class, pausing to take pictures with my mobile camera phone. You will see the beginning of a snowman taking shape as two grown men carefully crafted their snow art against a local pub. On the way home from class, which was canceled by the afternoon, there was a whole family of snow sculptures outside this pub. At University, students seemed oblivious to their classes as they gathered in the square to build the largest snowmen possible, while others broke into snowball fights. I managed to lob off one snowball which unintentionally fell near someone who was a part of a snowball fight. I fear I'll have to watch my back for as long as the snow lasts, because he said he'd remember my face! On the way home from class, I walked through a nearby park which was well-occupied with families learning the fun of team-work...snowmen continue to pop up all over.

The word is that London hasn't experienced this much snow in 10 years. While London may not be as equipped to deal with snow as Minnesota, it has been refreshing to see the City baptised in a fresh, pure white covering, but it is even more delightful to see people embrace their inner child.

A Dickens of a Time

After fifteen days of living in London, settling in, knowing where to get one's morning cuppa before class starts, and figuring out how to make the washing machine and dryer work (which involves propping the dryer door shut with an over-sized washing soap box), I've finally paid tribute to a local museum. As a Dickens fan, I was thrilled to discover that the Dickens Museum on Doughty Street was practically within spitting distance of my cosy little bedsit. So, last Sunday, trekking over puddled sidewalks, some cracked concrete and some cobbled, my friend Simon and I made our way through the London drizzle to the unassuming former Dickens' residence turned museum. While the Doughty Street residence is only one of Dickens' former homes, it marked the beginning of his success as a young and upcoming writer. Within these walls, Dickens wrote Nicholas Nickleby in its entirety and worked on Pickwick Papers, Oliver Twist, Sketches of Young Gentlemen, The Lamplighter, and Barnaby Rudge. Within these walls, Dickens hosted dinner parties for his friends. Within these walls, Dickens witnessed and grieved the sudden death of his sister-in-law Mary Hogarth. Here his rich characters and social conscience mingled with personal grief and triumph. Exploring the rooms of the Doughty Street home in hushed whispers, I wondered "whether I shall turn out to be the hero of my own life" (David Copperfield).

Walkabout Amongst Urban Warriors

In the interest of broadening my horizons, literally, I went for a walkabout on Thursday after I ran an errand. While I had my trusty London Mapguide with me, I decided to just walk and discover the area without a plan. I found myself walking down Fleet Street, passing the Royal Courts of Justice, navigating up Aldwych to Kingsway, and though I wasn't in the presence of the "notable tourist attractions" the winding streets, the huddled buildings (fish shops whispering to bookstores), and the often overlooked roundabouts were strangely comforting in their seasoned permanence as the masses scurried onto buses and out of taxis. Suddenly aware of the hour, half past 5pm (because the Brits don't say five-thirty), I was smack-dab in the middle of rush hour. Rush hour in London includes, perhaps more-so, pedestrian traffic. The walk that had such leisurely and peaceful beginnings had turned into a scene of running with the bulls, with no wayside rest to change one's shoes! My frenzy to keep up evolved into awe as I watched the sea of professional black navigate methodically, yet smoothly, through this space of kings. To add to the wonder, people could talk or text on their mobiles; they could read the free paper handed out at the corner; a teenager could even play with his Nintendo DS, all without the slightest hesitation in pace. I couldn't decide if this image fascinated or horrified me, or both! One can expect this kind of multi-tasking when on an elevator, a bus, or the Tube, as the potential for awkwardness or conversations with a stranger are great, but I began to realiSe that it wasn't necessarily about avoiding contact with the stranger next to you. It was about efficiency. This city moves so quickly, getting to work, working, returning home from work, even playing in the off hours requires great skill. In order to assure myself that I wasn't lost, I took myself out of this slipstream of efficiency, withdrawing from these ever-moving urban warriors, like the rules of inertia did not apply to me. I hugged this great, great, great, grandfather of a building and checked my mapguide, searching for the kind of reassurance I wouldn't find in a map. I wasn't lost, but I knew that. I took a breath and considered my surroundings with awe and a little bit of sadness. As I made my way back to my neighbourhood, I shared the awkward moment where two people are walking towards each other and try to step out of the other's path, but end up bouncing to the same side. I couldn't help but smile and laugh out loud. He just compensated and kept walking. That's alright, I will continue to find the humoUr in the little things, like that funny little march-like waddle of an old pigeon or the cheeky squirrel looking for a bit of food.

Cat vs. Mouse

The battle of wits begins and so far the mouse is winning. For the last two nights I've been awakened by the scuttling and scrounging of a mouse. Although I haven't actually seen it in my wee room, I'm certain this little critter is in here at night slowly trying to drive me mad. Last night after having a few pints in the pub below, I noticed the utility closet door, down the hall from my room, was open with a shoebox with what looked like Raisin Bran covering the bottom. Of course, I thought it was a bit odd, but after 3.5 pints I just wanted to crawl into bed. However, at 4.30am I was awakened by what sounded like a cat in a litter box. Either a fellow tenant has decided to feed and poison the little bugger or provide a welcome wagon complete with raisins! Now the concerning thing is the fact that I was able to hear it scratching around in the box through my door about 6 feet away down the hall. Perhaps the flip side of this would be if it is as big as the sound suggested, it couldn't possibly fit under my door and snuggle up to me at night. Hmmm...I will try to take comfort in this scenario. I suppose if I come back from class in the next few days and find a perfect semi-circle hollowed out from my door or wall and a little welcome mat out front, I then become Tom to his Jerry. Of course, we all know how well Tom faired in this battle of wits. For now, I've learned to sleep with a light and/or TV on, not very environmentally conscious, but I feel it is justifiable in order to keep me sane. This is certainly temporary. By this weekend, I will either find myself a live trap myself or simply throw up the white flag and leave a plate of mature cheddar cheese out.

On a more enjoyable note, they have great beer here! I also got to meet a couple of regulars last night. It will be interesting to see if I earn my own barstool like Norm. The people here are cool and I look forward to seeing how competitive Pub Quiz night gets :)

That's all for now.

Here Almost a Week

Friends, Family, and Countrymen...
I have been here almost a week and while I'm still getting to know my surroundings, I am amazed how quickly I've been able to navigate my way around. It seems my sense of direction DID follow me "across the pond"...well, that and a clever London Mapguide I bought months ago to prepare me :) I live above a lovely little pub in Clerkenwell. True, there definitely is a certain amount of street noise and constant comings and goings of a train right below, but I've managed to work the noise nicely into my dreams. So, there you go.

Now, some of you are aware of my "ickle" room, which still prompts spontaneous bursts of laughter from me, but, despite its size, it is clean and does have some character about it. Although if any of you are planning to visit, we'll have to look into hanging a hammock from the ceiling, or creating an upright bed in the shower. Of course, have a few pints from the pub below and you won't care where you sleep. Ha!

On that note, I did take some pics and make a couple of videos of my new "Home Sweet Home" and will try to post them post haste. Of course, no promises, because tonight is Karaoke Night and the compulsion to belt out some Beatles music is so very tempting ;) For your planning pleasure, Thursdays are Pub Quiz Nights and coming soon -Wii Nights on Mondays!

For those of you interested in the traditional sights of London, I can see St. Paul's Cathedral from my window; of course, I can also see The Chatterbox Topless Bar, as well. So, imagine the choices, the views, the sights and sounds, ladies and gentlemen! Seriously, this is a fantastic area, very safe and close to everything.

That's it for now. I have to go warm up my vocals in the shower (better chance of hearing myself in there). I hope all is swell Stateside. It's interesting to watch the news about Wall Street and the Presidential Debates over here. All I've got to say is that my bloody absentee ballot better show up in time!

Cheers!