Gardens and Pies

I think my current favorite thing about London is its green space.  It seems like anywhere they can, and even some places they probably shouldn't, the people of London plant trees and grass.  Trees are planted crammed in sidewalks and buildings attempt to incorporate the foliage in any way possible.  You'll be walking past high rises and pass the open gate to a small public garden wedged between a shop and an apartment complex.  These aren't half-assed green spaces either; the parks are well maintained, if not intentionally overgrown.

I have walked past St. John the Evangelist church and it's attached mosaic garden in Waterloo regularly to get to the Strand campus. I ducked inside the gate today to check out exactly what was going on back there in the little garden across the street from Britain's largest IMAX cinema.

In the back corner of the mosaic garden I ran into a man and his son sitting on a large mosaic bench.  They explained to me that this garden, and the bench they were sitting on, is dedicated to the homeless who live and die in the area.  The names of the local homeless who have died are written on the tiles of the bench by anonymous people. I couldn't get a full shot of the bench, because the man was sitting on it and I felt awkward taking a picture of him.  The following statue, with the owl, is a dedication to the pets (of the homeless, I believe) who have passed away.

After this I wandered down onto the Southbank to sniff out a small restaurant/food stand I had read about online.  Unsure of exactly where it was, I just started wandering through the crowds, figuring that I would happen upon it eventually.

I finally turned a corner and landed in Gabriel's Wharf. To my surprise, there it was! Pieminister!

I had been craving filling and meaty food, along with mashed potatoes. This is no surprise for all who know me, I pretty much could live off mashed potatoes and be satisfied.  I ordered their Shamrock Pie with mash and gravy, with a bottle of Victorian Lemonade to try.  The Shamrock Pie contained beef and Guinness gravy and could of easily been a meal by itself.  Add in the large quantity of mash and a good helping of gravy and I was stuffed.  The pictures don't look that glamorous, but I think anything covered in gravy isn't that photogenic.  I'm pretty sure even Angelina Jolie covered in gravy would be unappealing to the camera.

It was very hard to decide on which pie to get. They all sound so amazing.  The pie was huge and tasty, and the mash was very creamy with the wonderful gravy.  The Victorian Lemonade was a mildly sweet lemon-ginger soda, complete with pieces of ginger and lemon floating inside of it.  Actually really refreshing, I was pleasantly surprised considering that I am usually iffy about ginger in my drinks.  But oh, I will be back.  With their prices set pretty damn low for what you're getting, Pieminister will be seeing much more of me.

The Little Things

When I decided to move to another country for graduate school, I figured I would stick with one that spoke English, considering it is the only language I am fluent in.  I have taken Latin, French, German, and Japanese courses during my educational process, but all those fall somewhere behind Lumalier, Klingon, Quenya, and other fictional languages in comprehension.  I knew there would be some terms and phrases that would be unfamiliar to me on this side of the pond, but every now and then something new pops up that I was not expecting to be different.

Then I went to buy cleaning products.

Gearing up for Me vs. Tesco, round 1

I have to go easy with the shopping, considering that I'm not very big and I have to carry all my purchases on the bus back to my dorm.  Nothing like swinging a shopping bag and clockin' an old lady in the head.  Stay classy, Americans.

I, in my brilliance, decided to start my adventure during shopping rush hour.  Note to those who have never shopped in another country: you have no idea how much you stand and stare at shit you're unfamiliar with until you get in other people's way while doing so.  I, and probably most people, are so accustomed to seeing certain brands and branding that the differences in it spiral you pretty firmly into the 'culture shock' category.  In most places, the off-brand or store-brand items are styled similarly to the brand name, so you just have to glance for a common marketing theme.  Ain't no Windex here, guys.

This is not a diss at the UK and their cleaning products, this is making fun of me for being pretty incompetent and confused.

This is laundry detergent.  I know because I posted a picture of it on Instagram and received confirmation from my friend in Wales that it is the kind she uses. Before I picked this up I spent ten minutes staring at the "fabric conditioner" before I Googled it on my phone and realized that it was fabric softener.  Also, couldn't find dryer sheets.

You probably can't read that bottle due to the awesome mirror effect, but it reads "Washing up liquid". This, my friends, is dish soap.  Thankfully the cheap Tesco brand has pictures of glasses and plates on it to help me figure this out.  Other things I noticed about UK cleaning products: Awesome scents. I haven't actually opened any to see if they smell like what they advertise, but lime and lemongrass, blueberry, pomegranate and honey, cucumber and aloe.  Seriously!? Why don't we get these cool scents in cleaning products in the States?

As I was walking down the isle of Booze (Liquor in the grocery store? Be still my heart!), I came across this little bit of hilarity.  Is that a little kiddy milk carton? Nope! Mini-boxed wine.

I will be back to the Tesco this weekend to actually get food products, but I rewarded myself for my diligence (and stress) with a mint Aero bar. This is officially my favourite UK candy bar.

Video Update

Where They Charge for Water

When I was in the States I used to drink a lot. No silly, not booze (okay yeah, that too), just in general. When I ate dinner I would go through three or four glasses of water.  After one week in London, I've realized that that shit has got to stop.  Free refills are a thing of the past. Oh, and they charge for water. Tap water included, at most places.  I'm used to going out to eat like a poor college student, but there is a learning curve on what qualifies as "poor college student eating" in different counties.

After the Master's student meet-and-greet today (more free wine, woohooo!) I went with the only other person I've found from the entire Theology department to dinner.  Carefully examining the Thai menu, I realized that the only water offered, the tap water, was priced at £2.  This, along with the high price of alcohol, is why the vast majority of college students frequent BYOB restaurants that advertise "no corkage fee".  So my classmate, Em, and I bucked the trend and got mango juice instead for only 50p more.

So when in London, do as the locals do. Save some quid and skip the water: bring a bottle of booze instead.

PS- I swear I'm going to eat my weight in crunchie bars while I'm here.

My Funny Face and Sainsbury

PS: I got a cellphone too!

Orientation in the City

I haven't gone grocery shopping. I haven't bought bedding. I haven't put up my clothes. I haven't opened a bank account. I haven't gotten a SIM card for my cell. I haven't been on the tube or buses.  I haven't paid for any food off campus.

I have waited in a lot of really fucking long lines. Excuse me, queues. I have walked until I got blisters. I have gotten soaking wet because I didn't pack an umbrella (and I'm okay with that). I have gotten a lot of free swag from orientation. I have eaten free food and drank a bottle of free wine.  I have been asked for directions four times.  I have ordered whiskey, straight up, and gotten noticed for it.

King's held a reception for new international students with lots of food and wine.

When you're outside of the Strand and Westminster proper it is easy to forget that London is a big city.  Americans are used to associating big cities with new and tall. There are a lot of those buildings in London, but in some of the boroughs just outside of the central areas all the buildings only go to about four or five stories and were built ages ago.  Whenever I forgot how big London is, all I have to do is cross Waterloo bridge on my way to or from campus.  At night, the city lights up in all colors.

I'm Here!

Layovers

As I type this, I am two and a half hours into my 8 hour layover at Boston Logan airport.  Yesterday my mother and I drove up to Raleigh so I would already be in town for my early morning flight. When you're a Murphy, you learn to prepare for Murphy's Law in advance.  Knowing my luck, had I decided to drive up the morning of my flight, my car would have broken down halfway there.

We piddled around the city that afternoon, mostly wandering around the mall.  Mom got me Urban Decay's new lipstick in Shame (a dark berry) and a roller-ball of one of my favorite perfumes (Narciso Rodriguez for Her) as a going away gift.  I crashed early because I wanted to get up early and wash and blow-dry my hair before the flight to help me wake up.

So at 4:15 this morning I dragged out of bed and took my last shower in America.  After a lazy continental breakfast (They had peanut butter! and whipped yogurt! Yay!), Mom and I took the Holiday Inn shuttle to the airport and said our goodbyes.

The ladies at the JetBlue check in were really nice. After discussing my concern about having to recheck my luggage during my layover at Boston airport, per my booking through a discount flight website, they checked their records and figured out how to reroute it to my connecting flight to London.  Rechecking my luggage was the part of the trip I had been most terrified about, because my arriving and departing terminals were quite a distance apart and well... lets just say I have a lot of stuff.

The dark one in the back was overweight by about 15lbs. Extra fees but more books I don't have to ship!

I am still not going to feel comfortable about my luggage until it is in my hands at London Heathrow.  Knowing Murphy's law again, my suitcases are probably still spinning around the luggage carousel back in Terminal C.

The walk from Terminal C to E could definitely be called a trek.   I followed the signs hanging from the ceiling past baggage claim to were it veered off away from the other terminals.  Still following the signs for Terminal E, the area became more and more vacant until I felt like I was walking through an office building on Sunday rather than an international airport.  I actually did pass a lot of doors that were labeled as Employee Only offices, but the signs claimed I was going in the right direction.  Finally I went outside, back into another building, up an elevator, and finally, ten minutes later, I was in Terminal E.  And I had to go through TSA AGAIN.  The woman who checks IDs/tickets stared at my boarding pass as if I had handed her a monkey instead.  I had to explain to her that I was the only one from my previous flight connecting here, and yes, I was in the right Terminal even though my boarding pass had none listed.  She finally let me pass onto the actual checkpoint.  As I threw all of my belongings onto the scanner and pulled off my shoes for round two of the checkpoint, the TSA agent looked at me and said "You look like you do this a lot! Like a pro!". Gee, thanks, I guess.

So now I am curled up in a far corner of Terminal E trying to kill some time.  I raided the Dunkin' Donuts for energy ala a Boston Creme doughnut (when in Boston...) and a frozen Mocha.  I have never actually had Dunkin' Donut's drinks before, but they're actually pretty damn good. I may raid the Duty Free shop for chocolate, maybe a Toblerone, before the flight this afternoon.  I really should be reading, but who are we kidding, people watching and eavesdropping on the Japanese travelers (sorry, not sorry) beats that one by a long shot.

Loves,

Bored in Boston

PS: I REALLY really want to slide down the metal banister from level two to level one, but I don't think the airport staff would find it as amusing as I would.

PPS: I did not proofread this. So sue me.

One Week and Counting

This time next week I will be on a plane en route from my layover in Boston to London Heathrow airport.  Last week I quit my job of almost six years and began the rounds of saying goodbye to friends and family.  I was tempted to do a uniform-burning party on my last day, but instead I handed them down to my old coworkers.

There isn't a lot to write about at the moment. I am in the chaos of making packing lists, refilling prescriptions, and frantically running around for last minute necessities.  I realized today I should have quit my job about a week earlier to give myself more time to get organized. Hindsight's a bitch.