England (again)

It was Christmas time, and as a gift to myself, I'd decided to take it easy, and stay in one place for a month. If you talk to any person who has traveled for over six months, they'll tell you that you will eventually get to a point where you start to get fatigued. As much as I had been living my life's dream every day of this trip, it can get bloody exhausting. I feel like a guy complaining that he's a bit sick of making love to his supermodel girlfriend, but it's just how it is. No matter how awesome, how much fun, and how leisurely something is, if you do it for too long, you'll start to build up a resistance to the more enjoyable aspects of it, and fatigue will eventually set in.

Interestingly this wasn't homesickness. Apart from missing family and friends, Australia had absolutely zero appeal to me, but luckily one of best friends lived in London, and so for a bit more than a month I got to hang out in one of my favourite places in Europe, with one of my favourite people, and just chill. Sadly this makes for absolutely nothing blog worthy, but there were a few nights that I feel I came out of my shell and regained my travelers' spirit, which I'll briefly share (less than 1000 words each, I promise).

* Christmas with the Goodricks
Rosy's family were kind enough to invite me back to their house, despite the fact that last time I was there I'd tried to infect them all with death plague. It turns out that the Goodricks are a vengeful people, as Rosy's Mum managed to give both Rosy and I a revenge dose of death plague (although that didn't hit us until NYE, more on that later). Rosy's family are brilliant, and it really felt like a Christmas back home in Bowral, with lots of amazing food, plenty of laughs, and sub zero temperatures (sorry, another in joke. My home town is freezing, even in summer. I hate it, it's a hole). I even managed to skype my parents and all my relatives who had descended upon their house for Christmas, and despite my uncles' highly cliched comments about England, and English people, a major cultural incident was averted, and Merry Xmases were exchanged across the hemispheres. It went so well, I think my grandpa even began to understand that what he was seeing was a live feed of his grandson in England, although his perplexed expression every time I answered his questions seemed to indicate that the dodgy Australian internet wasn't the only lagged connection.

I also lucked into some amazing Xmas presents from the already too generous Goodricks, with her uncle giving me some very good Welsh Whiskey, her father giving me some very good Welsh Whiskey (which he'd also gotten from his brother in law, but refused to drink such 'common muck from Wales'), and a survival kit from Rosy's mum for my trip to India, including immodium, hand sanitizer, and an information pack about malaria (she was pretty skeptical about my decision to travel there). I can never say enough thanks to Rosy's extended family for everything they did, but I figured at least I could include some nice photos of them from the festive period.

Rosy and her Dad, Xmas lunch complete.

Rosy's Gran and her Mum. Wow, maybe I should've taken more photos so I could've had some more flattering ones.

Oh yeh, and the moon did this on Christmas eve while we were walking home:

* New Year Eve, London House Party
Rosy has this friend Emma. You know how sometimes you sit around with your mates drinking, and come up with tonnes of great ideas that will never ever come to fruition? Well Emma's that one in a thousand person that will actually follow through on things like this. As a result, Rosy and Emma's house ended up getting turned into something between a club and a restaurant (and the following day a trash heap) for one night only, as all their friends came over and partied it up. This night was made especially memorable for the following reasons:
1. Emma decided that she didn't just want a party, she wanted a dinner party too, and dessert, and entrees, and a quiz, and decorations, and a million other things that I have never seen anyone else ever bother with in a party (miniature plastic fluoro star and moon cut outs for table decorations.....I didn't even know that was a thing).
2. Emma was only back for a few days from America where she was working at the time.
3. Emma had to work, and catch up with family, and I think go to a wedding, in the brief time she was back.
4. Emma cooked for the party, and did the shopping, and brought an extra table, and facilitated for everyone else to bring all the necessary things.
5. Emma had to fly back to San Francisco on New Years' Day.

The final thing that made the party memorable, was I can't really remember much of it, as thanks to the death plague I'd gotten for Xmas, I was on so many drugs that the moment I added alcohol to the mix I became the party-tron 2000, and went into complete black out mode. I had gotten ill about three days before, but knowing I'd probably be hitting the peak of the cold on NYE, had strategically abstained from any medicine, and simply kept up my fluids and stayed in bed to try and get over it. Saldy, this was woefully insufficient, and on the 30th December I left the bed for a total of about 10 minutes, and stopped whining about being sick for about 5. Luckily, the wonder of pseudo-ephedrine turned my lifeless corpse into a Weekend-at-Bernie's like party animal, and it ended up being a great night. I think this pic of Rosy and Sophie from the end of the night sums it up:

*Australia Day Monopoly Pub Crawl
For my whole trip, London had been somewhat of a home away from home for me, and as such, I hadn't really explored it too much. After deciding that this wasn't good enough, I decided to explore it the best way I knew how: by observing the points of interest as designated by a turn of the (20th) century real estate board game, whilst consuming alcohol in a regimented, yet reckless, way. This idea quickly got picked up by Rosy, and then Emma, and pretty soon we were spending Australia day marauding around things streets of London dressed as game pieces from the game.

Of the costume choices, it ranged from the brilliant:

Community Chest....get it?

Two game pieces in one....and a dog?! That could only be topped by.....

...an actual physical wheelbarrow. Emma, being Emma.

To the more obvious:

Monopoly man on left, burglar from jail on right.

Sailor from the ship 

 To the misguided:

Rosy in a playboy pit lane girl leotard, supposedly representing the ye olde automobile from the game (scarf and aviator goggles didn't cross her mind apparently).

To the completely esoteric:

Richard representing the fabulous American geezer game piece.

Sadly the costume MVP's stay was cut short, as the wheelbarrow was universally banned by the London buses after we attempted to catch our second bus of the day. For some reason the bus driver took offense, and wouldn't buy Emma's excuse of 'But it's my baby pram, I'm from the country', and he then radioed around to the other buses meaning that after three straight refusals, the barrow was abandoned. Tragically this is all that was rescued of it:

Wheelie McBarrelson: 2013-2013. RIP.

Originally, we'd all planned to meet up at Old Kent Rd, and then move together through the entire Monopoly board, stopping at each spot for a drink. Railway stations would be used for quick food breaks, and for every colour on the board, you had to consume a similarly coloured beverage (G&T for light blue, beer for amber, vodka cranberry for pink etc.). We also brought a pair of dice, and at each bar we'd roll them, and whoever had the lowest score would have to pull a 'Community Chance' card, which had various challenges ranging from 'Income tax: Go consume another beer' to 'You've won second prize in a beauty contest. Go find the person in the bar who beat you and get a photo with them'.

I still maintain I would've won if it weren't for his glorious curls.

One of the best rules was 'No talking until the next bar', which Rosy managed to draw at the exact time we met up with her parents for half an hour. Disappointingly she took a penalty shot, and was then allowed to converse with them, but it was funny while it lasted.

Anyway, the original plan didn't work out so well, as London people seem to have extremely busy social calendars on Saturdays, and so we agreed to a staggered start, with Rosy and I beginning the board (after Emma was lost for a couple of stops to say goodbye to Wheelie) and then gradually increasing our posse through the day. The group also ended up dwindling towards the end, as it began to drizzle, and all the drunk locals began to say 'Why the hell are we going to a place I walk past every day for work?'.

The captain realising she wants to jump ship after reading the remaining itinerary.

Luckily for me, Rosy was as committed to the cause as I was, and together with our trusty cheat bottle of vodka (we counted a hefty swig as a proper drink in order to express our way through some of the more clustered central London spots) the two of us managed to get to every stop. I think that next time I'm in town during summer, we will have to try it again, this time with a group starting it together and finishing together (and a toy wheelbarrow). Here are some of the days' highlights:

Same costume...awkward.

Emma risking her life to make sure went to Bond Street and not New Bond Street (turns out there was a massive sign for Bond street about 20 metres away).

The only evidence of me with my moustache (next time I'm growing a real one)

The Goodricks get in on the action.

'Community Chance: Your holiday bonus came through. Recreate a holiday photo using props from the bar.'
You've got to love that that card came up in a bar decorated for Australia day.

Finished!

*The Best Xmas Present Ever!
For Christmas, Rosy got me the awesome gift of tickets to an Arsenal game. I have been a fan of the Gunners ever since I saw Dennis Bergkamp turn the sport into a ballet while watching the weekly Premier League highlights as a kid. After deciding to come to London during the Xmas/New Year break, I had thought about trying to get some tickets and go see my first ever European football match. Unfortunately Arsenal tickets are usually either sold out or prohibitively expensive for a backpacker. However, Rosy, utilising every inch of her generosity and resourcefulness, managed to score us a pair of tickets to Arsenal v Newcastle Utd at the Emirates stadium.

The problem with buying sports tickets as a present, is that unlike something physical, or even a predictable experience like buying someone a holiday or a sky dive, the end value of a sports ticket as a present is often left up to mercurial nature of the game. Many a well intended present has gone down in flames thanks to a rained out day of cricket, or a coach benching a star player due to a niggling injury. Luckily for me, Rosemary Elizabeth Margaret Goodrick is not one to leave these things to chance, and somehow arranged for the two teams to put on one of the most entertaining matches I've ever witnessed, with the added bonus that the good guys won.

I won't bore you with too many details, but the two teams exchanged goals, with Arsenal continuing their extremely frustrating trend of handing back leads three times, until the 84th minute, at which point Arsenal finally broke serve (when the score is 5-3 I think tennis terminology kicks in), and then turned on the afterburners to score two more. The icing on the cake came from Walcott in the 90th minute, when he was fouled in the box, but insisted on clambering his was back to his feet, and before the ref could get the whistle to his mouth, had burried the ball in the back of the net and sent a crowd notorious for its' lackluster atmosphere, into local derby levels of hysterics. Even the highly unlikely scenarios I used to imagine while kicking the ball around in my front yard as a kid were more plausible than this match, and yet, somehow Rosy pulled it off.

*It Snowed and I Got Really Really Excited
In what I can only assume was the worlds largest blizzard (there was like 6 inches of snow!!), London was blanketed with snow. Most Londoners were pretty nonplussed about this, and continued on their merry way. I, on the other hand, turned into a 7 year old (down from my usual maturity age of 9). After getting into a snow fight with some punks in an estate house who were pegging snowballs at the cars going by (they won when they pulled a blade and I ran away), I proceeded to grab a dustbin lid and a garbage bag and began systematically gathering every bit of snow from the cars and pavement of Hannell Road until I had enough to do this:

Upon being greeted by this on her way home, Rosy decided she wanted to play as well, and so, after deciding that the two drunken snowmen were Jarrod and myself, we set about building Helen.

We couldn't find any hair rollers, otherwise this would've been the perfect Helen.

*I Kidnapped the Queen
My three temporary roommates Lydia, Emma, and Rosy, were all die hard monarchists, and through the whole time I was there, I was forced to endure witnessing three otherwise extremely intelligent people, have in depth discussions about where they think Prince Harry would be going for a beer that weekend. In turn, they were forced to endure an ingrate from the colonies rant and rave about how redundant the Royals were, and how literally anything was more interesting than a bunch of people who are only remarkable for the fact that they have become famous by doing even less to deserve it than Paris Hilton (God I hope that sentence doesn't give Prince Philip any ideas). Anyway, to try and illustrate just how little they need a monarch, I decided to steal their Queen.

'One is flying Ryan Air??!? What on Earth is that?'

I now realise it wasn't the actual Queen (this one is smiling), but at least I showed how much I appreciated the generosity and hospitality that the three girls showed me, by stealing something from them, like a true Pikey.

I can't really think of any other stories from London that make for an interesting read. One night worth mentioning was the evening I met up for a drunken night with my College room mate Dave. The night probably made for a good yarn, except all I remember is riding a Boris bike across London at 4am in order to get to a bus stop where I knew I could get a bus home. I Google mapped it the next day, and my journey was around 8km (or 11km if you account for my drunken weaving), but I'm sure someone has some good stories at our expense. I also met up a couple of times with my mate Torin who is living in London for the next six months.  One of these nights was a very fun evening watching the Superbowl, which doubled as my leaving party as I was headed off to Israel the day after. But apart from that, it was just really good to be in one place for a while, and especially enjoyable thanks to how much I love London. The weather does suck, and for that reason I could never see myself ending up there, but there is an English 2 year work visa with name all over it, and while I have no idea what I'll be doing the next few years, if I can somehow fenangle it so that I end up in London, I wouldn't mind it one bit.

OK, so all the pretty pictures are in the dark because there was about an hour of sunlight the whole time I was there, but I still love the place.

And I know I've mentioned it a thousand times before, but there's no way I would've enjoyed it as much, or been able to stave off the homesickness, without having such a good friend in Rosy to hang out with. Never has someone done so much for a traveler with that traveler doing so little in return, but somehow she managed to always make me feel like I was paying my keep with my limited selection of meals I could cook, or my sporadic bouts of boy cleaning (1 unit of boy cleaning = 0.03 units of girl cleaning). But luckily for me she didn't seem to mind, and we touristed the crap out of London for the better part of a month. It was so much fun, that it ended up being extremely hard to leave, but the middle east had momentarily broken out in peace, and so I was back to being a gypsy, and on a plane to Israel...