Life in London

The sun is out today. Yesterday was a typical dismal English day but I still braved the cold winds and went out to do my important job as a tourist. Though Robbie and I had spent a good chunk of time there last time I was here, I had to spend a little bit of time in the National Gallery again. I could spend all day there. Earlier I had gone to the Tate Modern and again, I have confirmed that I am not a huge fan of contemporary art. It was an amusing experience, though not a thoroughly enjoyable one. I am not really artsy fartsy but I know what I like and yeah, I love the classic stuff. I saw some pieces that I could probably do and if all it requires is painting an entire canvas blue with a splash of red and yellow somewhere, then I can be an artist as well. Still, I did enjoy my day. I walked a lot, both for the fun of it and to walk off some of the crap I have been eating. Though I did not walk with gym gear this time, I really wish I had.

I am always amused by the hustle and bustle of Londoners - the tightness of a man's arse as he scurries from tube stop to tube stop, the plethora of ugly flat shoes on scores of women who rush from the train to wherever they work, most likely with a pair of heels in their bags for when they get to the office. And then there is me - in my sweater and flip flops, idly walking to the underground with no care for whether the train is there or not. I know I will get to where I am going at some point. This is the power of vacation and man, am I owning it.

But I can relate to these men and women. The alarm goes off at 3.20am and I curse and hustle to make it out of the house by 4.45 for the latest to avoid traffic and road rage. I park my car and then slip into my flats for the short but dangerous walk to the office and by dangerous, I mean the dozens of holes, bumps and inclines on Port of Spain pavements. I have had to repair enough shoes because of our Third World pavements.

But I never thought I would say it, but one almost misses the catcalls and amusing comments from Trini men on the street because here noone looks at anyone, noone speaks. Heads are buried in books and newspapers or iPods drown out the world. It's a bit sad, but it's just how it is. It makes gaping a bit useless since noone is gaping back. lol

I promise to fill you in on Italy soon but for now I am relaxing. I feel like I need to dedicate myself to that entry. Tomorrow, we are having a barbecue, hoping the weather is as cheerful as it is today, but then all Trinis need are each other and alcohol and it will always be a good time. I have been recruited to make a pelau, though why my cousin feels the need for one is beyond me. In any event, I am not complaining. Thanks to my darling Cat though, I get to see a show I have been wanting to see ever since I saw the poster underground. So next Wednesday, the Cat and the 'bat are off to see La Tanguera. Tonight I am off to Leicester Square for dinner with the RT and for now, I am eagerly anticipating my breakfast date.

The time is going by so fast now as the end is near.


  1. The absence of human engagement...that is what it is. But as a Trini you will miss it. Amazing eh!!! (Ah know ah kinda late)

  2. I will miss it! Who will make my sour mornings amusing?


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