London Trip

It's been a busy few weeks, things are really hotting up workload wise, with some overtime due tommorrow.

I decided to get out of this small Hampshire village for a few hours and headed into London.

It's the same route I used to commute and I so stopped over in Wimbledon to change a few address details at my bank.

I was last there over two weeks ago and it immediately struck me how damn busy London is, it seems like an age ago that I was living there. It made a nice change from the slow pace of rural life, however, I found myself feeling relieved I no longer lived amongst all the mad hustle and bustle.

Some of the rural life must've rubbed of on me, as I got marked by a charity worker who I decided to listen to. 10 minutes later of talk about funds for the deaf and blind and me nodding, I eventually had to butt in and cut to the chase. This isn't the "give a few quid" type thing, but rather, you put down your banking details and setup a debit. You can go as little as £5 a month, but something about it seemed troublesome to me. There's so much bank fraud over here, the thought of putting my bank details onto a piece of paper on the high street didn't seem logical. It was all above board, that much was true, but I want as few debits as possible. They don't accept cash donations, so I had to prise myself away. I'll give to charity in other ways.

On the train, I got marked by a very irritating and persistant "Big Issue" vendor who smelt bad and seemed just a little unhinged, in the course of a 10 minute train journey, he asked me 3 times to buy a Big Issue, I declined. Too damn pushy. I don't like the "hard sell" patter, it turns me away. I gave a quid to a beggar instead.

After a stop in Earlsfield to pick up some post, I headed to the market, had a venison burger, a few pints and got a bunch of great food - herbs, cheese, vege. I also got a potted rosemary bush, which I intend to attempt to not kill off in a week.

I took a few photos and vids with my new digicam and really enjoyed the crowds for a while, meandering in and out of the market, trying sample produce, buying some olives - great stuff.

Not a massively eventful day, but I've got a chicken roasting in the oven on the go, some wine chilling in the fridge and some movies to watch.

The chicken is being slowly roasted with bay leaves, roscoff pink onions, portobello mushrooms, fresh crushed garlic, fresh thyme, a fresh lemon and some tasty roast spuds. - YUM.

Ahhh, the life of a single person - sometimes it really is great. But only sometimes ...

Musings and plannings

I'm already getting that damn "itch" about being stable again, the need to get out and about, after only two weeks in Odiham.

Too damn bad, I'm here for at least 6 months, so I best get settled in.

I'm made two sets of tentative "settling in" plans.

The first is a contact with a rather expensive guitar tutor, 5 miles from here, in Farnham.
Howard Johnstone is the tutor (here he is)
I had a quick chat with him yesterday, indicating my eagerness to get back into guitar and also to gig again, lets hope it works out for me.

The second contact works along with that and is rather odd. Although I can drive, I've decided to take a few lessons - it's called a "refresher course" and is something that I feel I need.
I could easily get into a car and start driving, but I've always been somewhat of a nervous driver, never really enjoying it much. Driving in the UK and South Africa are entirely different beasts.
This is the land of narrow lanes, large complicated roundabouts and lots of parallel parking. South Africa, on the other hand, is the land of wide roads, insane drivers and lots of parking.
I learnt to drive in that environment.

I'm the type of driver that is just too hyper-aware, to my detriment. I get so involved with watching what goes on around me, it makes me more prone to make mistakes. I tend to watch for the wrong things. Don't get me wrong, on a scale of 1 to 10, I'm about a 6, which makes me above average. The problem is my imagination gets the better of me. I really do feel like I'm hurtling along in a tin can, one step away from being mashed in a pile of metal at any given time. Hmmm, I suppose that's a reasonably healthy way of looking at it.

My weak points I'm aware of, my tendency to want to shift into the left lane while observing everything around me except for that "blind spot", however, my reactions are quick and effective, which has saved me from certain death a few times.

I'm also not that good at parking. Hey, I can reverse well enough, I just can't park that well, so that sets me apart from the cliched "woman driver" syndrome.

As a side note, statistics from insurance agencies have proven that women are better drivers than men. I feel the need to defend males here for a moment and say that women are just better at lying. There, now I feel better.

God, it sounds like I'm the crappest driver in the world. Oh well. From what I've seen, I'll be in my elephant over here in the UK, this being the land of stupid drivers, rather than mad reckless and stupid ones in unroadworthy cars, pissed out of their minds.

So, und zo, and so, hmmm, and here I sit in The George, a drunken sparrows fart flight to my front door, simply to get out of the house on a rainy Sunday afternoon and have a pint. If truth be told, also to have a smoke while enjoying a pint, as I don't smoke in my apartment. I have to go outside to smoke - an enforced regime which I will never change.

I stopped smoking about 4 years ago and started again about 2 months back. Stupid.
I'm now a reluctant smoker who enjoys it very much, but need to pack it in (excuse the pun) real soon. I can't bring myself to smoke normal cigarettes and so I've been smoking rollups.

There's a story behind that which I don't mind getting into and it involves skunk and a bit of hash, which I've sinced kicked in for good.

I've smoked the old herbal ciggie for the better part of twenty years and smoked the stupid cigarette for about the same amount of time.

I gave up smoking before a dental operation and what aided me in this was wacky weed.
It allowed me to still imbibe in the smoking ritual, while giving up the addiction to tobbaco.

The ol' 'erb in South Africa, or Dagga as it is known, is as cheap as chips, so smoking it "raw" is an option.

Over here in blighty, it's so damn expensive and also so bloody strong, that mixing it with tobacco is essential. So it was that an aquaintance was a big doob smoker and thus, so it was that I obtained on a few occassions, some super skunk/hash from this smoker.

It was no great suprise that I soon got hooked on tobacco again. This was cemented by a month in a shared household of smokers.

The herbal smokes are a thing of the past as I've realised they really are not helping my mental state and never have. In fact, they don't help anyones mental state. I've been "two" people for damn years and never realised it until now. Now new evidence linking dope to schizophrenia is all but fact, there's no reason to continue to punish myself.

I've never been easy with the herb and from what I've read, very few people actually are. The escape from reality has always been accompanied by discomfort around people and sometimes downright paranoia.

So, yeah, another pint please barman !

... crazy talk ...

Out of the frying pan, into Odiham

The pace of life just slowed down, dramatically.
Hmmm, maybe 'dramatically' is the wrong word, damn cliches.

Life here isn't so much slow, as predictably mellow. The High street is full of life and like most places in the UK, has more than it's fair share of cars, people and dogs.

It's a really quaint traditional English Town.

It sports a traditional butcher, with burly balding old gits manning the meat in white overalls and blue stripey bibs. There's the High Street pub, The George. A small Deli serves as one of the best places for a lunchtime sarnie and all the essentials of modern British life can be had at a slow pace with early closing times.

Tuesday lunchtime, I got a ridiculous amount of vege from the Tuesday market place for £5, some keys cut, 2lb of steak mince and a broom. It should be noted that the market is literally on my doorstep. I step out the front door onto the pavement and there it is.

It isn't exactly a massive affair, but rather a local farm produce setup of a few stalls which enjoys a brisk trade. This makes it all the more authentic, as it's clear that the locals get much of their fruit, vege and fish here each week. It felt more than a little odd and exciting to be able to buy my goods and in front of the market itself, unlock my front door and drop my goods just inside.

The ingredients for my supper tonight, a bolognaise, were all purchased within 2 minutes of my front door. Damn delicious it was too ! (more than enough left over for lunch tommorrow)

It's hard to explain this little piece of perfect England, because it really doesn't actually exist in perfection, it just feels like it should. Modern life is never far away and as I'm so fond of recalling, modern life is rubbish. Luckily it just about escapes the general horrors of British town life, being a very affluent place.

Last Sunday, I took a hike down to the canal to Odiham castle. The canal had a thin film of ice on the surface, which didn't deter the swans or the walkers from enjoying a bright sunny day. It was a good day out and I retired to the pub for a few pints before walking the 30 seconds to my front door.

It's all really rather bizarre. From the mad hustle and bustle of London, the dread worry of not finding work, sharing a house with five other people, to this.

A two bedroom two level apartment with all mod cons, a fantastic job, in a historically amazing Georgian town.

Please don't wake me up ...

... some days later ...

It's now been a week since I moved in here, getting used to village life. I took the bus into Camberley today, another very non-descript town, don't think I'll bother to return. Basingstoke will remain my main town to visit for shopping. Camberley is a bit grotty by the standards of the immediate area, or rather, boring and fugly.

Got talking to the Manager, Sean, at "The George" across the road from my apartment.
He's just taken over the place. Him and his wife have only been in England for 2 weeks, fresh from South Africa. Will definately visit more often for a chat, seems like a really good bloke. My curiosity is already getting the better of me, as I only managed a 5 minute chat (busy in here)

Sitting in the pub still, quaffing a pint of Courage Best. Think I'll try a pint of T.E.A next, I like the idea of an Ale with that name.

Still not missing South Africa, not even slightly, but I am missing family and friends, big time.
I'm sure in a few months, I'll get a twinge of the old homesick feelings for Joburg, maybe ?
Depends how things pan out here, but from the way it feels now, I'm in for the long haul.

Permanent job, six month apartment lease, a 12 month broadband contract and will most likely buy a cheap car as soon as I can get credit. The idea of buying a £500 car isn't attractive at all any more, it doesn't make a great deal of sense now I'm permanently employed. I'd rather opt for a cheap fairly modern second hand car and pay it off as quickly as possible. I need something that can do the mileage as I really want to get out and about travelling around the country on weekends, not to mention a hop into Europe every now and then.

So, there we go then, "yeah yeah yeah yeah", really fast, as they say here. (yeh-yeh-yeh-yeh)
It's kinda like the equivalent of "ya nee", my only problem, is I keep saying "yeh-yeh-yeh-no", like a saffa, or Vicky Pollard, "yeah but no but yeah but no but yeah"