The Heathrow Injection

Typing this from my lounge room bedroom apartment in Clapham, I'm thinking back over the events of the past few days. When last I checked in, I'd barely landed.

Today marks my fifth day (is that all? Gosh it feels like so much longer...) in London.

I was greeted at the airport my Aunty (sorry Sue... :s) Sue, which was rather fortunate actually, as my hybrid brain of fog and mush would scarcely have been able to navigate the tube.

Aaah, the tube. They have this wonderful train/tube/bus system here where entering and exiting the stations is as simple as a swipe of your “Oyster Card”. It's genius actually- everyone has a card that you can top up with credit. It is automatically deducted depending on the distance between swipes. It's ridiculously easy to use. Plus it makes me feel like an important business person every time I get to swipe my card.

Sue and Neal really took me under their wing- I became settled rather quickly, and then the lessons on London life began. Drinking and eating and drinking and eating and drinking are favourite past times here- I have an inkling I'm going to blend in rather soon!

I can't quite believe my luck, but the weather has been splendid the whole time thus far- I'm, typing this today in a t-shirt and shorts!

Sue, Neal and I spent a great deal of time sitting out on the garden patio, bathing in the sun like lizards and whistling along with the birds. I managed to witness the resident fox with the mangy tail, and a cute, grey squirrel up close as well!

After a few fun filled days, it was time to free load on my friend Gareth Burner. Arriving Sunday afternoon, and resigning to bed at approximately midnight, he confirmed the London lifestyle of eating and drinking (though I must admit much more of the latter was achieved on this eve.)

Apparently there is this... disease... called the Heathrow Injection. Basically it's like visiting a plastic surgeon and being injected with collagen ALL OVER THE BODY. Yep, it's the fat disease- caught mostly from people who hang around in supermarkets, restaurants and pubs.

Starting to wish I brought my running shoes....

I have to say though, Clapham is a pretty awesome area. We live about 40seconds walk from the High St, which is complete with restaurants, bars, supermarkets and the Superdrug. (Don't worry mum and dad, it's just a pharmacy chain.) There are a couple of tube lines and a HUGE park within walking distance. Yesterday was so toasty that I grabbed my book and my lunch and went to read in the park. I stuck out like a sore thumb because I didn't take my shirt off.

People become very excited on warm days- the minute the sun is out it's off to the park (as there is no beach you see) and blankets go down, picnics come out and clothes come off. Lots of ladies sunbathing in their bikinis.

This evening I am off to see a friend of mine, Eliza Anderson, in a production of The Last Five Years. I can scarcely believe that all this life, culture and theatre is at my fingertips. Time to start scratching the surface.

View from apartment. Not in Kansas anymore!