We land. I tell the pathologist that BMI is better than SleazyJet or RyanAir. He is not familiar with the work of either, so cannot agree or disagree. Suddenly the ribbon on sticks parts and there is a sign that says TRANSFERS. We stop. "Bye then", he says, scientifically. I am not scientific, so I go a bit hot. "I'm going now", I say, and go. The pathologist goes left to Canada and I go straight on to London. My nose stings and my left eye runs quite a lot. Something feels not right any more.
I get on the Heathrow Express and pay £29 return for the privilege of travelling their much-trumpeted 15 minutes into Paddington. (Equivalent train journey in Amsterdam: under 4 Euro.) London is full of idiots, as usual. It is dirty and full of noise and advertising and confusion and stuff. Five tube lines are broken, and three people ask me for money. At Brixton everyone stands still in the middle of the street looking at bits of paper and driving their baby buggies up my legs; Iceland smells of wee. It is impossible to think or breathe or be. I get the bus up the hill; mainly there is shouting and shopping bags. My flat is exactly the same as it was six weeks ago. I pick up four books, two photographs, three dresses, two pairs of shoes and a bear, get in my car and drive from Brixton to Barnes, which takes an hour.
London's rubbish. If people disagree, I usually discover that they're not from here originally. Whatever they say, they think it's a bit good, in the same way that people suspect smoking is a bit good. I am from here, but I think it's rubbish and I don't want to live here anymore. And it doesn't really matter why I don't want to be here, even though there are probably many excellent reasons: I just don't like it and never really have.
But it is not that simple! There are Ramifications! It is all very well not wanting to be somewhere, but that means one must be somewhere else! It is head-hurty and so instead, I shall think of yesterday morning, when I cycled about the place, went to the Botanical Gardens in Amsterdam, looked a pigeon (called Fat Pigeon), drank pretty coffee and ate splendid cake. (And a biscuit.) I shall worry another day.
18 comments:
Ahhh bless! Your Canadian Pathologist sounds a bit dishy - is that still a trendy word?
Just came here to tell you about Troubled Diva's Red Nose effort. Go see! Go! Go!
New York's a bit shit too, btw. Embra's nice if you don't mind rain.
Sorry about the runny left eye. Thinking maybe the right eye was also a bit runny, or at least thinking about jogging a little? Or is your right eye strictly business and all "yah, you Canadian pathologist you, I'll see you off and I'm already fine with it" in which case, glad the left eye has things in perspective.
But I'm with you on the not wanting to live where you live any longer. Want to trade? I can offer... um... deadly deserts which means lots of heat in the summer and unbelievable dryness, apparently disgusting amounts of allergicky type things (not an issue for me) and a smug belief that since this is America we can call something "old" after 300 years.
Awe, know what you mean 'bout left eyes 'n stuff.
We ran away to Scotland, wet, but fresh, panoramic and beautiful. Its sky tried to snow on us this morning.
Hope you're snuggled up in Barnes. kaz ;o
Montreal is very cold right now but it's a great place to live. Why don't you get on a plane and join your Canadian Pathologist? Getting work is relatively easy here you know. Life's too short and all that!
Don't get used to being back home. Make your peace with the fact that London really is a piss poor place to live these days and make a plan to move away. I hope the ol' leaky eye improves and that you find a place to be in the world that keeps you as happy as you have been the last few weeks. In the meantime though, get your S together and entertain us..... we've no use for a weepy monkey.
Peace.
I too am from there. I too do not wish to live there. I too took up with someone not from there. And now, out of the need to live on neutral territory in order to avoid the “it’s your bloody country arguments”, we live in Sydney; I recommend it.
Oh honey. I hope you feel better soon. I'm sorry to agree with you but, when I visit cities in other countries, I find that not only is London rubbisher than they are but it is more expensive too. It used to be shabby but cheaper, once, and I liked it.
Is that the prequel to Die Another Day?
London is but one pimple on Albion's shore, 'tis not the whole country. I hope this has cheered you up.
welcome back darling!
in the fear of sounding out of place i will not comment on the london friend or foe conversation.
but that runny eye thing sounded very weird! and those cakes and coffee looked absolutely gorgeous! Amsterdam sounds lovely though! going there for a week for my eighteenth!
Oh Monkey, are you tired of life?
If he lived today, Samuel Johnson would have revised his opinion about London and blamed the dodgy kebab take-away he had for supper.
The population of Greenwich is projected to increase in the next 9 years by a number equivalent to the entire town of Banbury. Some days it feels as though that has already happened. I've been here since 1979, and never before has Greenwich felt so crowded and dirty, development is driving out the little character-ful shops and markets, and banks and post offices and cinemas are closing. We have such a crap Council: you can read about it on the Greenwich Watch blog.
there's something i'm not getting, although i'd be the first to admit tha geography isn't my best subject. left for canada - fine. straight on for london - also fine (if you like that kind of thing), but surely iceland should be uphill - quite a long way uphill, actually - from brixton?
Everyone! I am delighted by your many and manifold comments!
In no particular order:
Eyes recovered; Iceland is a supermarket full of frozen gateaux and strange salad in bags; London is rubbish; I am happy in my heart, just rendered senseless with rage by being in London; I shall settle in the right place at the right time; I am tired only of life in London; Reading the Signs, yes that did cheer me up; Tim, bless yer, you too Z; no, London really is appalling; Day in Bed I am visiting again in May; Tokyo Girl I have heard this said before but am not too worried about where as long as the who is right; I am going to New York in April (good to visit, bad to live - like London).
'Dishy' is a sensational word used by breathless teen magazines up to and including the mid-80s to describe the 'hunk' in the sixth form. Except I didn't have 'hunks' in my sixth form, as it was an all girl's school (unless you counted the gym teacher who I think was on a different bus).
Yes it's hard when you know where you don't want to be, but not where you do want to be.
It applies to work and house and relationships and lots of difficult things. Better not to grow up ever!
I teared up too when your Canadian went of to international departures.
Oh God, I want a piece of that cake. Badly.
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