Posts Tagged ‘Birmingham’

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travelling.

August 14, 2012

I’m currently just over halfway through a well-earned two-week break from work, and I’m back in Bristol at the moment with my family. But over the past week I have bounced up and down the country, from London to Peterborough to Hastings then back to London via Heathrow!  During the car journey with Toby and his parents from Hastings to London, I played “the adjective game” with his mother in the back seat, which involves taking turns in saying the following rhyme:

I love my love with an A because he’s _____ (positive adjective beginning with A, e.g. “amazing”)
I hate my love with an A because he’s _____ (negative adjective beginning with A, e.g. “arrogant”)
His name is _____ (boy’s name beginning with A, e.g. “Aaron”) _____  and he comes from _____ (UK town beginning with A, e.g. Aberystwyth)

The next person does the letter B, then the letter C, and so on. It soon became apparent that while I could think of adjectives and boys’ names fairly quickly, my knowledge of British geography is woefully lacking. Apart from when my dad’s mother was alive and we would visit her for a couple of days in Filey, Yorkshire each summer, and travelling to the outskirts of London to see various members of my father’s family when I was young each Christmas, I didn’t really get to know much of England. School trips stuck mainly to the south west – occasionally Birmingham or Wales, but never any further.  In my late teens, when I was doing my university applications, I visited cities such as Oxford and Cardiff for the first time. I hadn’t even gone to central London and used the underground until I was 19 years old. I only like two cities in England – Bristol (more about that later), and London. I’m certainly not attached to anywhere else. Nevertheless, I feel that it’s important to visit cities in my home country (as well as countries throughout the world – Toby and I spent an hour last week making an exhaustive list of desired holiday destinations that will probably take us through to our seventies) to experience new places and broaden my horizons.

During my time in Peterborough, Toby’s mother suggested to us that we might like to go for a picnic at Rutland Water, which is a giant man-made lake / reservoir in the middle of the countryside.  Within that sentence, there are two words which unnerve me deeply: “picnic” and “countryside”. I don’t like picnics because they conjure up images of sitting on grass and mud, eating miserable sandwiches and constantly warding off bugs and insects. My preferred way of experiencing the countryside is through Google Earth or iPhoto – that way, you don’t have to smell it or get hot and sweaty walking through it, and you can turn it off once you get bored. I realise this sounds bratty, and I’m poking fun at myself a little bit – but I’m truly not one for gazing out over endless fields. I see it, my mind takes a picture, let’s move on – the fields do not do anything entertaining to hold my attention, and there’s no focal point. However, I tried to be up for something new, and I didn’t want to outwardly reject Toby’s offer of an outing, so we went along. The first hour of walking along a cycle path through clouds of midges, lumps of poo and flocks of sheep with the sun beating down on me and cyclists weaving all around us did not do much to endear me to Rutland Water, and I felt really bad. While my worst fears had indeed been confirmed, Toby had tried to do something nice for me and I wasn’t being very appreciative – he got a bit upset, I apologised and made more of an effort at conversation, we ate our nice sandwiches on a bench (at first he did come close to breaking his promise that we wouldn’t sit on the grass, but I firmly put the kibosh on that one), and soon it was a much more pleasant experience. We then drove round to the other side of the lake, which was far prettier and felt a lot more like a park.  For the record, I really like parks – we visited Battersea Park on Tuesday and it was lovely, plus we fell in love with nearly every dog that we saw (one of which, a bichon frisé, fell in love with me and followed me for about 5 minutes much to the chagrin of his owner). My mood had lifted a lot and I was actually enjoying myself, and Toby was too – as guilty as I felt for my initial ungratefulness, I am proud that I was mature enough to get over myself, enjoy myself and thank Toby for his thoughtfulness in the process. We skimmed stones (I discovered that I am really bad at this), looked at a very strange metal sculpture (apparently created purely to be aesthetically capitivating):

and walked along a dam made of piles of stones, which was very romantic. I ended up having a lovely time and after my initial disquiet, I appreciated the fresh air and open space.  Would I go again? I probably wouldn’t be the one to suggest it as a destination, but neither would I feel anxious about going. I still majorly dislike the countryside – that’s just me, I’m afraid – but I think I can learn to get along with it.

A couple of days later, we went a long drive from Peterborough down to Hastings for Toby’s brother’s engagement party (his brother’s fiancée is from there). I would personally never choose to live in Hastings, as it’s extremely tiny (I do not cope with tiny towns) and feels underdeveloped and a bit tacky, but – walking along the waterfront at night, and then picking my way down to the shore the following lunchtime, I could see that living by the seaside does have its charms:

Walking along the waterfront with Toby’s dad and Katie’s father as the sun set was truly lovely – people were playing crazy golf, a live band was playing, and there were stalls selling confectionery and ice cream. On Sunday we had lunch at a restaurant on the shore, and we went down to the water’s edge after finishing our meal and being that close to the water did feel a little bit magical. It did help that the weather was wonderful, but the venue just possessed a holiday atmosphere which I was able to appreciate. We drove back up to London and Toby’s parents dropped us off at Heathrow airport, which did feel exciting – we joked about just getting on a plane and leaving the country (and there were certainly plenty of appealing destinations on the departures board), but Toby had to be well-behaved as he is back at work this week. We each had a lemon San Pellegrino at the Caffé Nero there, and then got the tube back to Earls Court – and I ticked another underground station off my list:

And now I am back in Bristol. I am having a lovely time seeing my family and friends, and it is good to be home… but at the same time, I really feel that London is also my home now. I’ve lived there for a year (which has flown by!), and every time I return to Bristol, I notice how small the city feels, how tiny the buildings are, and how a considerable amount of the people look a bit… idiosyncratic. Obviously, you get dodgy-looking people everywhere, but I guess that until I started to see more of the world, I didn’t notice it in my own city as much. I always knew that the public transport in Bristol was a joke, but today I paid £2.90 for half an hour’s bus journey. The bus driver was on his mobile phone at the bus stop and I had to wait for him to finish his conversation before I could buy a ticket; I then asked how much it cost (as he didn’t tell me the price of the ticket – he just assumed I would know), and upon paying the driver, he practically threw my change at me, slamming it into the little money tray. I know that Bristol is a very friendly city, and that London is notorious for its rudeness and impatience, but the London public transport is far superior not only price-wise (a bus journey is less than half the price, and even the tube is considerably cheaper), but attitude-wise too – I’ve never been sassed by a London bus driver to date. So sort it out, Bristol! It’s sad that unless something major happens, we’d never be able to afford to buy somewhere in central London, because that would be a dream – but I’m looking forward to Toby and I moving into our own place (we are renting our own flat together in the next couple of months – I’m so excited!) in the next couple of months.  My sense of exploration is blossoming.

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Tube update: Baker Street.

March 14, 2012

Today I have been a very busy bee, going between Westminster and Hampstead doing appointments, and also looking at the Grade 10 Personal Projects (some of which were terrific!). Then, I walked to Baker Street so that I could get the bus to Earls Court…

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…do my supermarket shopping and then go home and collapse on the bed with Buffy and a G&T. Which I am now doing – hooray! Toby has been busy with his work, events and going to Birmingham, and it’s on evenings like these that I wish that there were somebody else here who could help me with the shopping, or give me a lift somewhere when my feet ache, or even just a cuddle when I got home. And then I realise that there is no option for that at all – I am in London, I have my own flat, and I have to buy my own food, prepare my own meals and get myself to and from work. Life is exhausting! But then, that’s what being an adult is all about. Whether we are single or in a relationship; whether we are 18, 26 or 34, we all have responsibilities and we have to keep something in store for the end of the day to reward us for all of the hardship of the day to day that we go through. Keep your heads up!

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i, love

August 25, 2009

I love… Trey Songz’ new album.  You already know that I am feeling LeToya’s Lady Love (read the review here), and you can add Trey Songz’ Ready to that list.  A step up from his previous Trey Day (which in turn was a step up from his debut), there are plenty of standout tracks such as the single “I Need A Girl”, the urgent “Black Roses”, the epic closer “Yo Side Of The Bed” (which really reminds me of Prince’s “Purple Rain” at the beginning and in certain places where the guitar kicks in) and the ridiculously silly and yet chirpily addictive “LOL 🙂 “.  I guess I am a slave to Soulja Boy – it is my ringtone already.  Listen to it and enchant yourself… (maybe that is the wrong word but you’ll see what I mean!)  But it’s a really impressive, solid album, with great vocals from Trey, nice production throughout.  Dude is the new R. Kelly, for sure.

I don’t love… being fooled.  By now I should know better, I really really should.  Basically, I was on the dating site and I noticed that R was online.  So I clicked on him out of curiosity, and his profile basically said “In Birmingham on the 25th, at such and such hotel, looking for a horny 18-25 yo guy for fun times.”  I was like “OKAAAAY… so do you have a boyfriend or not?  And if so, where the fuck is he?” (Certainly not in Birmingham.)  Either R is a liar or he is a cheat, and yet for a week I was spinning out thinking how wonderful he was.  Maybe I’m more naïve than I thought.  Maybe his profile got hacked… but that’s really unlikely, and I’m not that naïve.  So I was inspired to write a song called “Delete U”, which I finished the rough edit of today.  Needs a little polishing, but I took that feeling of disappointment and was spurred into creativity, so it can’t be all bad.  And I certainly don’t pine for him anymore, though in honesty I haven’t pined for him for a couple of weeks now.  It’s just surprising when you think you connect with somebody and then you find out that they are a whole other person.  Not good for my judgment of character. :S

I love… the new Prada L’eau Ambrée.  I came across it in Debenhams today (during a reasonably successful shopping trip, which involved worshipping at the altars of Britney Spears and Zara), smelled it and felt love.  Love for the utterly sophisticated black and gold bottle.  Love for the sexy blonde model in the ad copy.  And most of all, love for the soft amber-floral-cream fragrance.  I am going to return to Debenhams tomorrow for another smell.  All the while repeating to myself “I must not buy it, I must not buy it, I must not buy it…”

I don’t love… wishing I were constantly somewhere else.  I said in my previous post that I had travelled to various exotic locations in my dreams, but I really wish that I could just run away to Milan, to Marbella, to Brazil, to Hawaii, to New York… and start a new life.  I have goals that I want to achieve while I’m here in Bristol, such as: getting my Careers Guidance qualification, getting my driving licence, moving out, getting a sixpack, getting a hot boyfriend, dressing head-to-toe in Gucci.  But some of these are more likely than others, and I hope that by the age of 30 I will be set up in one of these countries.  I don’t know why, but I have never felt at home in England.  I don’t feel the slightest twinge of patriotism (though I do love my city, Bristol), and my brain tells me that land is land, and a home is what you make it, so I should be able to live anywhere because it’s all the same.  But my emotions and heart cry out for the various places I have listed (most of which I haven’t even visited!) because I can imagine being happy there, or finding certain elements which would fit me a lot more than the awkwardness that Bristol sometimes forces upon me.  Here, I have lots of friends and I know where and how to enjoy myself, but I don’t really fit into or click into a niche, and I would like to find a place where I can do that.  Just maybe.

I love… feeling loved.  My grandmother is off to Italy on Thursday, and even though she really upset me last week with some insensitive comments, this week it’s water under the bridge.  I’m really going to miss her for the 3 weeks that she is away!  My mother and I have been getting on really well lately, and I don’t feel closer to anyone than her, even though there are a lot of things that I don’t wish to tell her at times.  My closest friends are either living in other cities, travelling about the country / continent, or preparing for new faraway opportunities, but yet I am glad for each of them and hold them dear to me.  And even if it’s just in my dreams, the sweet kisses and loving embraces of Thore Schölermann / Rafael Verga / random indie DVD cashiers keep me warm and make me feel like maybe that could one day happen in reality, just like a fairytale. A really, really sexy fairytale. Who knows… we live in reality, but it doesn’t mean that dreams don’t come true.  If it’s rare, it means that it happens, and hopefully it’ll happen to me.  As always, when it does, you’re gonna be some of the first to know!  Thankyou for reading once again, take it easy 🙂