london, england
July 29, 2006
london, england
Current mood:
aggravated
Category: Travel and Places
London's a neat city. The only thing is the drivers are a little insane, and they don't pay much attention to the law. I very nearly get run over by cars driving the wrong way all the time, in fact almost every time I step out onto the road! And the police seem complacent in this, in fact they do it too. Honestly, it's a disgrace.
The other thing I find interesting is how many Brits I run into here. It seems like 5 out of 6 people you see on the street are British! What are they all doing here? They must be all on vacation or something.
Seriously, though there's not very many surprises. I mean, other than that everything is exactly as I expected it. Everything is ridiculously overpriced. This frappuccino was the same in pounds as it would be in dollars, which means I spent about $8 Canadian for a medium drink. Outrageous! And you get this constant sense of people trying to nickel-and-dime you. For example, at the hostel, you can't just get a towel to use for the shower (you could in Vancouver), you have to buy it from them for - get this - 3.5 Pounds. Over $7 Canadian for a towel!! I just had to laugh. No, I didn't buy it.
Then they informed me I can't actually go to my room until after 2PM (obstensibly because of the cleaners) even to drop my bags off in my locker, so I have to go downstairs and pay a Pound for them to keep my big bag in a coin locker. and then I found that the Pound coin lockers are too small, and the big ones are 2 Pounds - over $4 Canadian to store my bag in a locker when I really ought to be able to just drop my bag off in my room! That's so stupid. Unfortunately I could relate a lot more of this nature, but instead I'll just say: it seems you have to pay for quite literally everything here. The hostels are way more expensive, the businesses way less helpful. Free internet is fucking unheard of.
Even now I'm having to go back and forth between a Starbucks and an internet cafe because there are no wall plugs at the internet cafe and my computer simply does not last that long. London is in many ways a very modern city, but the Brits are surprisingly far behind where the "digital revolution" is concerned. I had to spend hours searching even to find a local internet cafe that a) had wireless internet, and b) did not charge me up the asshole for it.
But despite all of this that probably sounds as if I hate this place, I find London to be a very charming city. Even though there are no surprises (it is exactly what I'd expect) -- even expecting it does not really prepare you for actually being there. You feel you are in an alternate universe. You feel you are on the set of a historical film, a period piece, but where's the camera crew? But no, I can't even say historical because there is much here that is extremely modern. Sci-fi, even. You see medieval churches on the same block as glass skyscrapers. Extremely dated taxi cabs drive side-by-side with the newest hybrid car. It's all very cyberpunk.
And different rules apply here than any place I've been. We all speak english, but there are a lot of words of mine they don't understand, and vice versa. Someone on the bus with me was talking english - I think - to his girlfriend, and just for fun I tried to understand what he was talking about. I failed miserably, 9 sentences out of 10 were absolutely beyond me.
Street signs are posted on the buildings themselves, and never on the street. Of course you know the cars go the opposite direction from what anybody would expect, anywhere else in the world (right?). The Brits have this sense of humor about them that is in equal parts charming and obnoxious, sarcastic but occasionally bordering on holier-than-thou snobbery.
Most everyone on the street, however, is extremely polite and helpful, which is good as I have had to ask for directions and other assistance more times than I can count. My first day here was an absolute nightmare, because my first night's hostel turned out to be As Far From Everything As Possible. My map was no good, making the City Proper look a lot smaller than it really was, and right after getting out of the airport and taking the shuttle to the main train station I realized I had misplaced my notebook with all of my travel information. So I had to first find a nice expensive internet cafe, get die adresse and die telefonnummer from my email on a piece of white printer paper, stuff it in my pocket, and do some guess work.
Eventually I found out that the main train station they had shuttled me to was extremely far away from the hostel. A smart man would have called the hostel and asked them directly for help. Instead I asked people on the street..
..and ended up buying an all-day railpass (a good investment, unfortunately) and taking the train to the station that looked closest on the map. But found out when I got there that I was still miles away, so I got more directions and ended up going somewhere else. Which was also wrong. Finally decided to call the hostel, and got directions. Had to take one train, and then transfer to another. Ended up taking one of them the wrong way (although it was the right train!!).
Please note that this is all with my own weight in luggage. Big backpack full of all of my earthly possessions. Small backpack full of all of my electronic possessions. Other over-the-shoulder bag (which is now packed much better, and put with the big backpack) filled with dirty laundry and other things that didn't fit.
You know, though, at least no one picked my pocket. I'm almost surprised. Constricted by all this heavy baggage, with a chain wallet nearly hanging out of my pants and clearly little mobility, I'm sure I stood out like a marijuana plant in a Churchyard garden. I was exactly the living breathing epitome of everything a pick pocket looks for. But I still have my wallet and all of my valuables, By the Grace of God go I. Maybe it's because I smelled, because I did, I absolutely stank from the heat.
I did eventually get to the hostel.. well after 2 PM. My plane landed at 8 AM. Six bloody hours in transit.
The hostel was a nightmare, because I realized it was several degrees less good than the Vancouver hostels I was used to. Door key bulky and hard in the door. Rubbish all over the floor of the dormitory room. My bed not made (cleaning lady offended when I asked her to repair this). Shower easily overflowing, too fucking hot, will not cool down. Room humid and unlivable. London humid and unlivable. Apparently I have arrived in the midst of a record-breaking heatwave.
Of course that is so wherever I go. In Vancouver, hottest days of the year, immense forest fires and dryness. In California, hottest days of the year, rolling black-outs. In Austria, hottest days of the year, extremely uncomfortable friend. In France.. well, you get the picture! Even the Sahara Desert is hot these days.
Seriously though, I'm not a gloomy end of the world, Jesus is coming sort of guy, but I have to admit that this all seems to suggest we might actually really be going through, oh I don't know, CLIMATE CHANGE!? Over the last few years we have seen records getting broken every which way, and awful storms, etc. I don't think it is actually going to go back to normal, but I hope I am wrong.
On a more positive note, I don't seem to be freaking out from culture shock, at least not yet. Perhaps I got that out of my system in Vancouver. Perhaps it is still coming. Every now and again I look around and realize I am thousands of miles away from everything I have ever known, I am struck again by the many obvious differences in the architecture and culture. But none of this strikes me in a "oh my god, what the hell am I doing, quick, where's a razor so I can go slit my wrists!?" sort of way -- more "oh my god, what the hell was I doing before, why didn't I do this years ago??"
After the hostel fiasco I walked along the River Thames from around the hostel to the Tower - about a 40 minute walk. Beautiful. Overcast but muggy, sticky heat. Architecture and humidity reminded me of New Orleans, the Tube reminded me of Washington, DC, the larger-than-life quality, of New York.
From the Thames I walked downtown, took the Tube a couple of places, came back to the Tower, and worked my way back to the hostel. Met my dorm mates: a nice British guy and a nice French Canadian (!) and we went to get drinks and hang out downstairs. Today it was much easier to find the hostel but I found the attitudes there frustratingly inhospitable. And a bit over $50 Canadian per night. Exorbitant.
Either I need to work something else out or I need to get the hell out of London as quickly as possible.
note: this blog post is a bit old too. stay tuned for the next one!!
london, england
Current mood:
aggravatedCategory: Travel and Places
London's a neat city. The only thing is the drivers are a little insane, and they don't pay much attention to the law. I very nearly get run over by cars driving the wrong way all the time, in fact almost every time I step out onto the road! And the police seem complacent in this, in fact they do it too. Honestly, it's a disgrace.
The other thing I find interesting is how many Brits I run into here. It seems like 5 out of 6 people you see on the street are British! What are they all doing here? They must be all on vacation or something.
Seriously, though there's not very many surprises. I mean, other than that everything is exactly as I expected it. Everything is ridiculously overpriced. This frappuccino was the same in pounds as it would be in dollars, which means I spent about $8 Canadian for a medium drink. Outrageous! And you get this constant sense of people trying to nickel-and-dime you. For example, at the hostel, you can't just get a towel to use for the shower (you could in Vancouver), you have to buy it from them for - get this - 3.5 Pounds. Over $7 Canadian for a towel!! I just had to laugh. No, I didn't buy it.
Then they informed me I can't actually go to my room until after 2PM (obstensibly because of the cleaners) even to drop my bags off in my locker, so I have to go downstairs and pay a Pound for them to keep my big bag in a coin locker. and then I found that the Pound coin lockers are too small, and the big ones are 2 Pounds - over $4 Canadian to store my bag in a locker when I really ought to be able to just drop my bag off in my room! That's so stupid. Unfortunately I could relate a lot more of this nature, but instead I'll just say: it seems you have to pay for quite literally everything here. The hostels are way more expensive, the businesses way less helpful. Free internet is fucking unheard of.
Even now I'm having to go back and forth between a Starbucks and an internet cafe because there are no wall plugs at the internet cafe and my computer simply does not last that long. London is in many ways a very modern city, but the Brits are surprisingly far behind where the "digital revolution" is concerned. I had to spend hours searching even to find a local internet cafe that a) had wireless internet, and b) did not charge me up the asshole for it.
But despite all of this that probably sounds as if I hate this place, I find London to be a very charming city. Even though there are no surprises (it is exactly what I'd expect) -- even expecting it does not really prepare you for actually being there. You feel you are in an alternate universe. You feel you are on the set of a historical film, a period piece, but where's the camera crew? But no, I can't even say historical because there is much here that is extremely modern. Sci-fi, even. You see medieval churches on the same block as glass skyscrapers. Extremely dated taxi cabs drive side-by-side with the newest hybrid car. It's all very cyberpunk.
And different rules apply here than any place I've been. We all speak english, but there are a lot of words of mine they don't understand, and vice versa. Someone on the bus with me was talking english - I think - to his girlfriend, and just for fun I tried to understand what he was talking about. I failed miserably, 9 sentences out of 10 were absolutely beyond me.
Street signs are posted on the buildings themselves, and never on the street. Of course you know the cars go the opposite direction from what anybody would expect, anywhere else in the world (right?). The Brits have this sense of humor about them that is in equal parts charming and obnoxious, sarcastic but occasionally bordering on holier-than-thou snobbery.
Most everyone on the street, however, is extremely polite and helpful, which is good as I have had to ask for directions and other assistance more times than I can count. My first day here was an absolute nightmare, because my first night's hostel turned out to be As Far From Everything As Possible. My map was no good, making the City Proper look a lot smaller than it really was, and right after getting out of the airport and taking the shuttle to the main train station I realized I had misplaced my notebook with all of my travel information. So I had to first find a nice expensive internet cafe, get die adresse and die telefonnummer from my email on a piece of white printer paper, stuff it in my pocket, and do some guess work.
Eventually I found out that the main train station they had shuttled me to was extremely far away from the hostel. A smart man would have called the hostel and asked them directly for help. Instead I asked people on the street..
..and ended up buying an all-day railpass (a good investment, unfortunately) and taking the train to the station that looked closest on the map. But found out when I got there that I was still miles away, so I got more directions and ended up going somewhere else. Which was also wrong. Finally decided to call the hostel, and got directions. Had to take one train, and then transfer to another. Ended up taking one of them the wrong way (although it was the right train!!).
Please note that this is all with my own weight in luggage. Big backpack full of all of my earthly possessions. Small backpack full of all of my electronic possessions. Other over-the-shoulder bag (which is now packed much better, and put with the big backpack) filled with dirty laundry and other things that didn't fit.
You know, though, at least no one picked my pocket. I'm almost surprised. Constricted by all this heavy baggage, with a chain wallet nearly hanging out of my pants and clearly little mobility, I'm sure I stood out like a marijuana plant in a Churchyard garden. I was exactly the living breathing epitome of everything a pick pocket looks for. But I still have my wallet and all of my valuables, By the Grace of God go I. Maybe it's because I smelled, because I did, I absolutely stank from the heat.
I did eventually get to the hostel.. well after 2 PM. My plane landed at 8 AM. Six bloody hours in transit.
The hostel was a nightmare, because I realized it was several degrees less good than the Vancouver hostels I was used to. Door key bulky and hard in the door. Rubbish all over the floor of the dormitory room. My bed not made (cleaning lady offended when I asked her to repair this). Shower easily overflowing, too fucking hot, will not cool down. Room humid and unlivable. London humid and unlivable. Apparently I have arrived in the midst of a record-breaking heatwave.
Of course that is so wherever I go. In Vancouver, hottest days of the year, immense forest fires and dryness. In California, hottest days of the year, rolling black-outs. In Austria, hottest days of the year, extremely uncomfortable friend. In France.. well, you get the picture! Even the Sahara Desert is hot these days.
Seriously though, I'm not a gloomy end of the world, Jesus is coming sort of guy, but I have to admit that this all seems to suggest we might actually really be going through, oh I don't know, CLIMATE CHANGE!? Over the last few years we have seen records getting broken every which way, and awful storms, etc. I don't think it is actually going to go back to normal, but I hope I am wrong.
On a more positive note, I don't seem to be freaking out from culture shock, at least not yet. Perhaps I got that out of my system in Vancouver. Perhaps it is still coming. Every now and again I look around and realize I am thousands of miles away from everything I have ever known, I am struck again by the many obvious differences in the architecture and culture. But none of this strikes me in a "oh my god, what the hell am I doing, quick, where's a razor so I can go slit my wrists!?" sort of way -- more "oh my god, what the hell was I doing before, why didn't I do this years ago??"
After the hostel fiasco I walked along the River Thames from around the hostel to the Tower - about a 40 minute walk. Beautiful. Overcast but muggy, sticky heat. Architecture and humidity reminded me of New Orleans, the Tube reminded me of Washington, DC, the larger-than-life quality, of New York.
From the Thames I walked downtown, took the Tube a couple of places, came back to the Tower, and worked my way back to the hostel. Met my dorm mates: a nice British guy and a nice French Canadian (!) and we went to get drinks and hang out downstairs. Today it was much easier to find the hostel but I found the attitudes there frustratingly inhospitable. And a bit over $50 Canadian per night. Exorbitant.
Either I need to work something else out or I need to get the hell out of London as quickly as possible.
note: this blog post is a bit old too. stay tuned for the next one!!
posted by European Johnny Bliss at 5:44 AM
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