Coach trip!

I decided that it was time I saw a bit of the United State of England, so Kirstan and I joined a group of mostly middle aged people for whom English wasn’t their first language (yes, you too annoying American mom and daughter) and did a whirlwind tour of Windsor Castle, Stonehenge and Bath.

Starting at sparrow’s fart, we headed to Windsor Castle with its towering towers and its extravagant extravagance. No one wants to hear me harp on about a castle, so instead I shall interject with a photo...


We left Windsor and made our way to a pub in the middle of nowhere (Salisbury) via one of the most famous racetracks in the world. Thanks to dad’s detailed description of the rise of the course in the back straight I was able to identify it as Ascot before we came to the main entrance signage, impressing those eavesdropping around me. A pub lunch of bangers and mash just added to the whole Englishness of the day.

Then it was on to Stonehenge, Kirstan’s highlight of the day. It is rather strange that they don’t quite know how or why this amazing stone arrangement was erected (he he he!) thousands of years ago. If you want to know more, go to Wikipedia. Now for some more of my fabulous photography skills...

Kirstan and I nearly got left behind because we were purchasing hot spiced apple tea (think liquid apple pie awesomeness), but just made it on to the bus and had to endure some glares on our way to Bath.

Even though several people told me how lovely Bath was, I wasn’t expecting much. However, it is one of the most gorgeous little towns I’ve been to. We did a tour of the natural spring (our third audio tour of the day, any more and my ears would have started bleeding I fear), where Kirstan had a little paddle despite the numerous verbal and written warnings.

Just in case all this writing was starting to make your eyes bleed, here are some more photos...

With a bag full of presents for my darling nephews and niece and a camera full of (mostly in focus) photos, Kirstan and I made it back to Ye Olde London Town feeling like we'd seen a bit more of this small island.

"And you my love, won't you take my hand? We'll go back in time to that mystic land, Where the dew drops cry and the cats meow, I will take you there, I will show you how"

Stonehenge, Spinal Tap

A habit most foul

One thing about the British that really disgusts me (apart from the BBH and BBT) is the frequency with which they feel the need to expel saliva from their mouths in a soggy germ ridden projectile.

People walking down the busy street find nothing wrong with turning their head down to the side a little and spitting. It is filthy and fills me with an overwhelming urge to slap them.

Even worse, the other morning I was walking down the aforementioned street and my foot slipped a little. Turning around, I realised that I had skidded on someone’s spit which had been frozen to ice in the cold weather.

Filthy beggars.


“I got no manners and I'm not too clean, but I know what I like, if you know what I mean, what'll people say? well mister cantcha see, it don't mean spit to me"
Spit, Kiss


UPDATE! This inspired an entry on the blog People Who Deserve It!

A personal invitation

Reasons why Scott should start reading this blog:

1. There are already 54 entries that he will need to catch up on, so if he doesn't start now it is going to be a real slog
2. According to my mum, this is a “highly entertaining insight into my life in London” (I may have made that up)
3. Nathan reads it, so does Jaala
4. Scott would love the new Lyrics of the Day thing I have started adding at the end of each entry
5. Because Scott loves me
6. AS IF YOU NEED THESE REASONS, YOU ARE A LITTLE BEYOTCH SCOTT, SO JUST READ IT!

“Nothing ever happens, nothing really matters, no one ever tells me, what am I to know, so what am I to know, you wouldn't read about it, read about it"
Read About It, Midnight Oil

Leaving home and arriving home

I fell off the blog train while I was home over Christmas and in the personal company of my readers, so now that I am back in the United States of England I promise that there will be more regular updates.

It was extremely difficult leaving this time, even more so than when I first left in April. I cried countless times in my last five days at home, and was even crying more than my mum when I said goodbye at the airport. However that came in handy when I was not just overweight but morbidly obese with regards to hand luggage. The lady felt sorry for me and my red face and puffy eyes and let me go. He he he! Just a warning - if I end a phone call with a squeaky “good bye” it’s because I am being a sooky la la and am crying again, so just ignore it.

London did it’s best to ease my transition back. Thursday wasn’t too cold and I didn’t have to wait too long for the bus ride, which took me on the scenic route from Chelsea to Waterloo via Sloane Square with the pretty fairy lights in the bare-branch trees and the towering Westminster Abbey. Then, after being at my desk for 10 minutes my manager offered to extend my contract – an extremely fantastic thing given the doom and gloom of the credit crunch. The upside of the CC is that everywhere is having sales at the moment, with lots of restaurants offering 2-for-1 meals and Ryan Air massively discounting flights. Colleagues stopped by my desk throughout the day to say hello, and my personal email inbox was full with silly banter from my London friends. All of this reminded me why I moved to London, so I’ve decided to harden the fuck up and enjoy it! (Apologies for the swearing mum)

Though I am totally ignoring my father's parting advice that the girl with the most handbags doesn't always win, because she does dad, she does!

I promise more adventures and blog posts soon…


"Wish I was taking you with me, no more goodbyes, no more goodbyes, tell me to stay home"
Leaving the City, Roisin Murphy