London claws!

The second week's almost up! I can't believe it, and I can't believe it's been almost two weeks since my little melodramatic send-off at the airport.

So... what has happened? Quick update: Naturally my big black leather friend turned up at my door when the airport authorities saw it fit for me to have a change of clothes. Most of Week 1 was spent hunting for a mobile phone; installing bank accounts; getting DHL to bloody deliver; meeting up with friends; buying underwear; walking around aimlessly smoking too many cigarettes and drinking too much coke. It's been manic to say the least, and I hardly noticed London when she crept around the corner and pounced on me. Well I can safely say she has her claws buried deep into my sides by now, and BOY DOES IT HURT!!!

"Why?", you may ask. For three big reasons:

For starters, I have rediscovered the concept of working for a living again. "Yes, and it was about time too!" as many of you will say, and sagely nod your heads in approval. 6 months of inactivity has left my bones aching with fatigue by 2 pm and my brain creaking at 3 every day this week. Not a good way to start a new job. So I sit and stare at my half drafted legal opinion and tell myself - Hey! It's good to be busy... good to make money... not so good to be a tax payer admittedly, but ho-hum - that's life!

Secondly, you can say that London weather has finally caught up with the riverman~~~ Alas, for after last week which was practically "one brief shining moment that was known as Camelot", my life in London this week has disintegrated into a motley collection of puddle soaked socks and rain drenched gloves. The initial joy at seeing snow flakes fluttering down to greet you is very quickly dispelled by the late train; the squish in your shoe; the frostbite in your fingers ... well you get the picture, don't you?

Thirdly, I have watched one week's worth of BBC national TV programmes, and it is painfully dawning on me that I will be watching the same shite I saw last week, this week too! Now, I love the BBC. Really I do! Just tell me, why so many cooking shows? Masterchef, Nigella Lawson, Jamie Oliver, Ready Steady Cook... Geez! Funny thing is that after watching all that great food prepared, the last time I went down to my local, all I got was a sloppy piece of shepards pie the sheep would stay away from!

On a more introspective note: It's probably just hitting me now that I am actually back in London again. Funny thing is that in a very curious way, I am realising just how much I've missed the late trains, the squishy shoes and the sloppy shepards pie! I know in a very quiet way that as much as I will trudge through the grime on the streets later on tonight and groan at the gritters who fail to grit it... it's all "SO LONDON" and therefore so understandable, predictable and even (dare I concede?) forgivable in the end.

So, that's the magic of London. She's one hell-u-vva minx! She digs her nails into you, and ruffles your hair at the same time. With all that pain being so close to pleasure, I find I can forgive her claw marks pretty quickly. She's a big city with lots of people and lots of heart. She just may turn the biggest bitch on earth next week and tear me to shreds on a whim... She's unpredictable in that way, but still, ain't it great to know that I'll never be bored?

Right! Gotta get home in time for Nigella at 9...