Tube vs Metro

So for better or worse I've traded my London life in for life in LA... There are definitely things I miss about London, but there are things I love about being back in LA... Life gets complicated when you make each place you live, your home.

London for one, is infinitely more accessible without a car than LA is. London is compact, dense and when it's not raining cats and dogs it is a city that is truly a pleasure walk in. LA is a city where car is king, the urban (and suburban) sprawl seems never ending. However, that is changing, hence the title of this post - Tube vs Metro.

I have to say, the Tube is amazing! It goes virtually everywhere. It runs frequently enough that I never had to wait long for a train to arrive. The Metro is, well, not amazing but it is expanding and I am very happy about that!

The biggest problem with the Tube is that it is (like most things in London) very expensive, which meant that if the trip was walkable...I did so. Another strike against the Tube was its lack of late night service. I'm a night owl and an all night service would have been awesome. The Metro wins this round because it's only a buck fifty to ride and provided you don't change lines, that buck fifty will get you a very long way. Also the Metro runs 'til 2am on the weekends, which (if I'm able to ignore the weirdos) makes me very happy!

The funniest difference between the two is underground etiquette. Everyone in London knows that you stand on the right and walk up the left...no one one has a clue here in LA and the escalators are used willy nilly...but if the Metro keeps expanding, maybe that will change!

Maybe I should start an underground escalator etiquette class...

That's Some Crazy Mojo!

So, I am not one of those girls who gets hit on in bars. I think I give out a "I am content, don't bother me" vibe...this maybe a totally erroneous view on my part, but whatever the reason (I repeat) I am not one of those girls who gets hit on.

So (please) indulge me for a moment while I share some of the events of my last few days in London that lead to the title and tale of this blog.

To kick things off!

On Wednesday, August 8th, Rose and I had tickets for the theatre (dahling!), to see The Mousetrap (which I've always wanted to see, being an Agatha Christie fan). As I don't often have occasion to dress up, Rose and I decided to get out the gladrags. As I was walking (sans heels, just flip-flops) to the theatre I pass a pub, where many a merry lad was enjoying a pint in the sunshine. Now as I approached said pub (The White Hart, I believe)one of these merry lads looked my direction. Being the polite person I am, I flashed a smile and continue walking. The lad in the trajectory of my path proceeded to go all wide-eyed and said, "You're lovely!" I (being the polite person I am) said "Thank you" and continued to walk past and on my merry way. However, as I continued to walk away, this lad continued to call after me, "You're lovely, you're absolutely lovely!!" He was so insistent that another elderly gentleman walking nearby, said "it seems you have an admirer."

Ok, so taken on it's own, this seems like no big deal. I was dressed up...he was probably a bit pissed...the weather was lovely...so all was right with his (and my) world and I became the receiver of this happy mood. However, the tale of my bizarrely active mojo doesn't end there!

The following Friday, August 10th, I had my leaving do on the Southbank. Lunch, followed by the Tate Modern, followed by drinks and finally dancing (all of which were lovely, by the way). So, the next instance of my overly active mojo did not happen that night, but rather at the arse crack of dawn the next morning. I had scheduled a pick-up for my one (very large) box to be shipped back to the States. I requested a pick-up before noon as I did not want to spend my glorious last Saturday, sitting in my empty room waiting for the pick-up man. At some point the previous evening, in my fuzzy state, I had received a text saying the pick up would be at 7:30am, ugh...I digress, or rather I'm setting the scene. So, sharply at 7:30am the pick-up man arrived. As I rushed around throwing last minute items in the box and taping it up, we joked about the insane amount of customs forms and paperwork required by the lovely US government. That done and dusted, I went and flopped back in bed, mentally ticking off one of my to-do boxes.

Now before I continue with the "crazy mojo" tale, let me provide some photographic evidence of what I looked like that morning, proving that I was most definitely looking a bit worse for wear...nutso hair, smeary leftover makeup, etc. (and yes, I took a picture,  right after the following events, specifically for this blog!!)

So, as I'm flopped on my naked bed (having just shipped the duvet) I got a text from a number not in my phonebook. Here's what it said -

     "Sorry Heidi! That's off topic :-) but I've 
      never met a kind and nice American like 
      you :-) I wish we can meet when it's not 
      about the job...sorry for disturbing"

So, at first I was thinking, "Huh? Who is this?" (and why do they not have a mastery of the English language?) Then, as I scrolled back up to the previous evening's messages, it dawned on me... Yep!! The number matched the pick-up confirmation message I had received the night before! My pick-up man was trying to pick me up!!!! Being the polite person I am, I had a laugh and then thanked him for the compliment and let him know I was following the box home in a couple days, to which he replied -

     "I should send myself there in another box. 
      Nice too meet you, real pleasure...
      have a good one"

Whaaaaaaaat?! I spent all of 10 minutes with this pick-up man, and as you can see above it was not my finest hour in the looks department. Hmmm...

If these two incidents had been it, I would not be sitting here writing this tale...

On Sunday, August 12th, Rose treated me, as a going away present, to the Hyde Park Olympics Closing Ceremony Celebration Concert (Blur, woohoo!) As we were waiting for Blur to go on stage, a man with his adorable, loquacious, pink tutu clad daughter on his shoulders (yes, daughter!)went past looking for his wife (yes, wife!)and got stuck in the tight crowd surrounding us. As he looked around for his wife, he proceeded to tell me, I was gorgeous, repeatedly! It all got a bit embarrassing after that...

So, as I said above, I am not one of those girls who gets hit on, but something was sure kicking off those last few days in London. My friends Rose and Paul said it was because I was happy and content...and you know what, I think they might have been right... I just hope the next time my mojo goes crazy, there'll be someone I fancy in close proximity! ;-)

Here's to traveling...

Welcome to the Eating Season!

So every year as Thanksgiving approaches (or in this case has past) I begin to think about the delights this time of year holds, and how the period from Halloween through New Years is one of my favorite times of the year (aside from the return to studying and writing).

I may not always enjoy the colder weather, the damp and darkness, but I do enjoy unearthing my tweeds, baking spicy goodies, and there is definitely something to be said for long winter evenings...at home with a good book or movie, or out in the pub with an Irish coffee and good conversation. I fondly refer to this time of year as the "Eating Season". So in honor of the Eating Season (and also to minimize my time in writing this blog), I've decide to share a recipe for mince to go into mince pies*!

*For those of you unaware of the delights of mince pies, I'll put your mind at ease. Mince meat is just fruit, not really meat, and these spicy, delightful little pies are just the thing for the Holidays. So whip up some pastry dough and try out this yummy recipe for the filling!

Farewell Summer...

...we will miss you!

So, I had fully intended to get a blog out in September (to keep my track record of at least one blog a month this year) but alas the end of summer passed me by in a blur and I am now, back in school...summer is well and truly over.

As I stare down the barrel of this final year of Uni, I can't help but look back at what a lovely summer I've had...

Great times spent with friends and family. New places, and old, visited and explored...and also a few lovely moments, just enjoying the simple things like my balcony...

good conversation...

and fresh tomatoes...

Where Sky and Water Meet

The train ride that takes you from Kings Cross to Edinburgh is absolutely lovely (provided you’re not sitting next to a screaming child, which I wasn’t, phew!) I took this train over twenty years ago (twenty! yes, scary thought!) and still after all those years, remembered spending the four + hours with my nose pressed against the glass.

This summer I was lucky to be going even “farther up and further in” on my trip up to Scotland. The train that leaves the Edinburgh Haymarket station takes you out of the city, up into the wild remote Scottish Highlands and beyond!

My friend Heather grew up in the Orkney Islands. This summer I had the pleasure of visiting her in her hometown of Stromness. I walked, took the tube, a train, a taxi, a ferry and even a plane to get there and back. It felt like going to the end of the world, but the warm welcome I received and the many beautiful things I saw over the four days I was there made the long trek so very worth it. (Plus the trip was half the adventure!)

Where sky and water meet, Where the waves grow sweet, Doubt not, Reepicheep, To find all you seek, There is the utter East. North.

Il cibo belli d'Italia

Buon giorno! Just a little food (picture)tour of my recent trip to Bella Italia! Pizza! Always a must!!

Espresso! Morning, noon and night...and sometimes in between...

Fresh pasta with pesto, tomatoes and fresh basil...

Don't forget the vino!

Mmmmmmushroom ravioli with walnut cream sauce....amaaaaazing!

...and of course no trip to Italy is complete without sampling the gelato...everyday!

Now it's back to the grind stone with one more paper to write, then freedom! Summer! Friends! (and more blogging!) Ciao!!

Venetian mask shopping in South Kensington

I've decided to focus on fun, rather than writing about the many horrible and overpriced bedsits I have view over the last week. So, on Saturday I sent a text to "Sam"* to see if we could meet up for a coffee or a drink. I needed a break from the home search and knew that Sam was always good for a cheery chat.

A couple of texts later and Bob's your uncle...we were on.

A quick change of plans later and I was drafted to help Sam pick out masks and capes for him and his friend to go to an Eyes Wide Shut type of party....hmmmm...

A (somewhat) quick drive through the rabbity roads of London (in Sam's rather posh car) and we were at the most insane costume shop I've ever been to! I so wish I had pictures to share but alas, no camera. The tiny aisles were so jammed with with costumes (all the way up to the ceiling in toppling towers) that it was like you were being attacked by wigs and hats and bags of tarty girl costumes. Are you picturing a big box type store? Well forget that. The aisles went upstairs, then down, around corners and on and on and on! It was totally amazing...and very English.

Lots of banter followed, with me attempting persuade Sam to go for the most wild of the Venetian masks and him (of course) going for the basic black.

...I'm a long way from "Burner" LA...

The afternoon rounded off nicely with a light dinner at a lovely little bistro in South Kensington.

*names changed to protect the not so innocent!

Jet Lag and Taxi Cabs

You always forget how nutty jet lag is. It's as if you've spent a weekend in Vegas unsyncing your body clock to the point where you're just silly tired, at all the wrong times.

On arriving in London, you top off your two flights (and extra long layover) with customs and some baggage wrangling...but then you step out into the crisp (way too early) morning air and a black cab pulls up. Out hops a South London cabbie, who calls you "luv" and proceeds to tell you all about his holiday with "the missus" in Cypress. The Tuesday morning rush hour traffic is slower than cold maple syrup poured through cheesecloth. It's worse than usual. "Strikes on the tube" the cabbie tells you.

You arrive at your street corner destination and pay the man a whopping £80 (roughly $120) while apologizing for the 80p (buck twenty-five) tip...it's all the cash you have. With a cheerful "not to worry luv" he's off and you're on to your first "proper" cuppa (cup of tea). Sleep is only a blissful 14 hours away...