Poisonous Pork

What a whirlwind few days!

After a few weeks at Gareth's my stay in Clapham came to an end at approximately 5.30am on Monday (30/5), thanks to mum deciding it would be a brilliant idea to jump on a plane arriving in the wee hours of the morning... Thanks mum.

I've been catching up on sleep ever since- although that is largely due to the worst bout of food poisoning I've ever experienced. One can't help but to laugh at the irony that after all the kinds of exotic street food I've devoured in South America and Thailand, it ends up being a pork roast in England that does me in. I know that's what it was because after throwing up violently on the side of the M4 en-route to Stonehenge (thank god mum could navigate across three lanes of traffic with haste), it became pretty evident who the culprit meal was. It's such a shame really, because that pork was bloody tasty.

It's now Day 4 and while the fever and vomiting has subsided, I am still tormented by knifing pains and so much trapped wind that it's a wonder I haven't flown away yet.

“See ya mum, you catch the ferry to Santorini and I'll take the birds eye view...”

After collecting mum from Heathrow, we dumped our baggage at the hotel on Park Lane and jumped straight into our role as tourists on an open roofed, double decker, red bus. Cruising past houses in the middle of London worth 19million GBP (owned by the likes of Margaret Thatcher and Gwyneth Paltrow), the 2011 venue for the BAFTA's, and a fried chicken shop on every corner (only 99p for a burger!) are just some of the sights that our tour entailed.

Buckingham Palace was, well, Buckingham Palace. I wanted to take mum inside and show her my room but unfortunately there was a marathon on in the middle of it all, and everything was closed off. We weren't even able to witness the changing of the guard. I'm going to have to have a word with the Queen about all of this upon my return.

Next up was Westminster Abbey, and it was at this location where I decided to begin my very own “Jump Series”, a tradition begun (and inspired) my dear friend Josephine Ison. If you are reading this Josie, I should mention as a courtesy that I do intend to overtake you with the better collection- a series of stimulating photographs taken at iconic locations around the world. As a sign of camaraderie, I have decided to post each one here on my blog as it is taken, giving you a chance to reciprocate if you can. Readers, feel free to comment and ooh and aaah over my remarkable jumping skills.

Firstly, Westminster Abbey is HUGE. Secondly, the line leading up to the tour of the interior is HUGE. Thirdly, our desire to join that queue was MINISCULE. It's a shame that mum didn't get to see inside, but I definitely intend to return and check it out at a later date. Apparently even Londoners who have always scoffed at the thought of doing such a touristy thing leave there saying “Do it!”

From the Abbey you can see Big Ben and the Houses of Parliament towering above the trees. It really surprised me at how close all these iconic buildings were to each other. I mean, London is a biiigggg city, but here were all these postcard dominating places within walking distance of each other! I have to say, I fell a little bit in love with the architecture of this particular building. It is so intricate and spindly and delicate looking and.... impressive! It really did take my breath away. In all of London, I've not actually seen another structure designed in a similar way. It was very difficult to stop taking photographs; I think there's witchcraft involved...

That evening mother and I took a stroll out to South Bank. We dined at that fateful restaurant before arriving at the London Eye. Standing in a little transparent pod, glass of Pommeray in hand, more than 120m above the ground and overlooking the city as the sun set, was a pretty magnificent experience. Watching the lights switch on 360 degrees around us, bulb by bulb, London came to life beneath our feet. A belated Mother's Day gift, I have an inkling that I am making headway in the race to become favourite child. But let's not count our eggs just yet.

Tuesday arrives and so does my first proper realisation about just how terrible customer service is in London. After waiting over an hour to collect a rental car which had been booked and paid for online weeks in advance, we were finally on the road to the country!

Thatched roof cottages with colourful flower boxes in the windowsills, horses on the road side and pastures greener than a man with envy- every little bit of it was just as you might have imagined (or seen on Heartbeat).

Driving, getting a little lost, driving and.... over the hill pops Stonehenge. Trying to form words for this next sentence to describe how it felt, that first sighting, is challenging. It is like the air was sucked out of our mouths and the breath held motionless, for just a fraction of a second. There it was, Stonehenge, in a field in the middle of nowhere; a collection of monumental rocks dating back 4,500 years ago. Of course, we were breathless only for that second before the car erupted instantaneously with delighted squeals of “Look! Stonehenge!”

We had been warned that it was a waste of time approaching, and that it could just be viewed from the road, but neither mum nor I were at all disappointed with parking and walking up for a closer look. There was an energy radiating from that place that words cannot do justice.

I'm fortunate enough to have been able to have my birthday cheesecake in it's presence- a 25 yr old tradition which I was not about to break just because I happened to be flying on my birthday this year.

So I got my cake, I got it in my birthday month (I figured it still counted), and I've now got one hell of a picture to beat.

Our London adventure together came to a lovely end in Bath. Wow. This is one seriously beautiful city. There are so many trees and old, old buildings steeped in history. Walking the white, cobblestoned streets with our friends Kathy and Patrick was such a nice way to wind down the day. By the time we arrived the Roman Baths had closed for the day, but I snuck a sneak peak in over the fence to the rows of Roman soldier statues guarding the baths. Another place I am definitely returning to.

Patrick pointed out down an alleyway a place called “Sally Lunn's”. It was a bun shop in 1680 and is still selling buns to this day. Like I said, Bath is it's own subject in a history book.

It was a wonderful (albeit short) visit with our long time friends the Pearsons, but one which both mum and I will treasure for a long time.

The last two days have been full of hustle and excitement and it certainly does not end here. This is just the beginning darling! Next stop, Athens. Time to get my discus on.

Westminster Abbey Jump- note the yellow shirt by the pole.

Big Ben and Houses of Parliament

Houses of Parliament from the London Eye

Keeping the birthday cheesecake tradition

Stonehenge Jump

Mumma and Mia at the very top of Bath

Kathy, Patrick and me