“Have they got stools?”
“Well yeah, it’s like a shop, you know.”
“Hm, quite good.”
I think I like it here.
Plasticity is a nice thing. Adapting is wonderful. Change can be terrifying, but it’s only really uncomfortable for a short time, then we adjust and continue on our way. London has been my ‘home’ for only 7 days and yet it feels as though I have been here for months.
By day three, my ability to easily maneuver the ever-changing transit system kicked in. I once refused to run but for leisure and now, due to cancelled trains, floodings, large crowds, and slow-moving tourists, and being late for work due to all the above has shifted my position on running — I now want to do it all the time.
Another thing I am becoming accustomed to is the rain. Hahaha, it always rains in England, people joke. Bloody right it does. It rained all day yesterday, and multiple times today and the day before yesterday. I have yet to adapt enough to purchase an inexpensive umbrella from a street vendor, but what vanity I could have possibly held onto after years of working in hot kitchens in over-sized men’s chef wear, my hair stuck to my melting scalp under a hat, may very well trickled off with the rain. I no longer give a shit about how I look. But seriously, who have I to impress here?
Walking is a favourite thing of mine, well, in that sitting still is one of my least favourite things, so I have spent little time in the flat and all the time walking (when not working). At home, walking wasn’t something I was inclined to do for fun as I had already seen all the buildings hundreds of times. If novelty ever existed, it died a long time ago. London is a wonderful place to walk for days without a map; learning your way around is quick and hardly painful. Sure I’ve become happily lost on many occasions, but it is just as easy to become unlost, especially with a clever phone and an unlimited commuter card.
Today, I was staring at this building:
Thinking you’re awfully handsome and curved, what was your purpose before you housed a Sunglasses Hut and a clothes shop for bar stars? But then I turned around and realized I had inadvertently come across the most unnecessarily popular place in the city:
It was also smaller than I’d anticipated, and I only photographed it for posterity (And because T called out the ridiculousness of my venturing all the way to Freddie Mercury’s abode and NOT photographing it because the cleaners had been called in to clean the graffiti. Again.)
Oh welp. Guess I gotta buy these wellies. Boo hoo.