Rainy, Lazy Days, Day 20

It has been pouring with rain for the last two days.

What to do on rainy days?

Bake some cake, watch DVDs (Wallace and Grommet and the Jungle Book to be precise)and listen to some John Mayer (Maude and I frequently listen to the song Half of My Heart).



Ava woke me up excited for her school trip to see a production of Aladdin saying, “Alexandra! Wake up! It’s time to get up! Come on Alexandra! Get up!” As per her request, I put her hair up in a ponytail and put her bangs into a twist which was fastened with a

lovely handmade clip. She looked beautiful as usual but unfortunately did not want her picture taken.

It is supposed to rain tomorrow and on Wednesday but despite the fact that I STILL do not own a pair of wellies, I have every intention of braving the weather tomorrow; you can only have so many lazy rainy days indoors before you start to get house fever. I’m going to try and find a good photography store that can print some of my photos; I’m thinking of making postcards or something. I really just want to get a project going! Speaking of which, I am now a volunteer photographer for an organization called Climate Change. I was surprised at how easy it was to obtain the position, and think it’s really great that it is as simple as it is because it supplies so many people with such a great opportunity. The organization will send me events or certain things they want me to photograph in my area and they may be used on websites or be put in magazines. I am really excited to get started!

As we were all sitting at the dinner table the other night eating spaghetti bolognaise, Ava suddenly asked, “when animals mate, is the female on the top or the bottom?” How’s that for a conversation starter?

Going to the Dogs, Day 17

After capturing Walthamstow Greyhound Stadium for my blog entry Where I Live Captured on a Slumberous Sunday, I was excited to hear that documentary photographer Katherine Green's show Going to the Dogs was being held at the Vestry House Museum.

Katherine Green's show documents the last three months of the stadium before it was closed in 2008. The stadium had been family run since 1933 and closed due to financial strains. I had no idea what an iconic place the stadium was (or still is I should say) for Walthamstow until looking at her photographs.

I have to admit that I wasn’t too ecstatic about her first few photos. I felt that she could have approached her subjects more creatively. However as I moved around the room, I was very drawn into many of her prints. I felt that I was in Walthamstow stadium and she did an amazing job at capturing the energy that I can only imagine was present during the dog races. I loved the shots of the workers, this one being my favourite:


I also love all the colour in her photos-they all seem to pop and make everything come to life. This one is my second favourite. I love the composition and the red against the white. I have to ask though-did she place that glass against the seat like that? It looks very precisely placed…


This is a photo of the museum (it’s right at the end with the green door!) The light, as I am sure you can see, was beautiful today. The light here on sunny days is so soft and wonderful and makes almost anything look beautiful.


As I was walking home, I went passed the square and saw that a carousel had been set up that day! There is Christmas music blasting out across the square and it’s all very picturesque and lovely.


Katherine Green's website: http://www.katherinegreen.co.uk/

A Bitter Reunion with Starbucks, Day 16

I walked into Starbucks for the first time in sixteen days. Sixteen days. Six-teen-days.

The thing is, they don’t have pumpkin spice lattes on the Starbucks menu in London. And to make matters worse, the Starbucks I went into was depressing and run-down. There is not ONE run-down Starbucks in Toronto; they are all cosy and pleasant and happy places to be. Okay, I haven’t been to ALL of them in Toronto, but enough to feel confident with the bold statement I just made.

I ordered a Gingerbread Latte, thinking it would be the closest thing to a Pumpkin Spice Latte-Christmas in a cup and all that. I will admit, the first few sips were divine. Honestly, it was like my taste buds were cheering as they remembered how freakin good Starbucks coffee was. It went down hill after I got passed the whipped cream though. Like really down hill. Starbucks drinks in London are crap. Now I completely realize that I am being extremely judgemental; how do I know that ALL Starbucks drinks made in London are rubbish? I don’t. But here’s the thing: not once have I consumed a bad Starbucks drink…until today that is. And I’ve consumed A LOT of Starbucks in the last few years. It was watery and gross, two words that would have once been inconceivable to me if talking about Starbucks.

If I was REALLY desperate, I am fully aware that I could search around London until I find a Starbucks that actually makes half-decent drinks but at close to £3.00 a small cup (close to $5.00) I think I’ll pass. Seven months without Starbucks. Is it possible? It’s going to have to be I guess.

My camera has been charged with my new nifty plug converter! I’m excited to start taking photos again.

Here’s some photos of Maude (the two going on twenty two year old) eating lunch a few days ago.

Confessions of Shopaholic in the Making, Day 15

As I walk around London and continue to observe the amazing fashion sense of the British, it is hard not to get overwhelmed. Surrounded by so many stores filled with amazing clothes that cost more money than I have in my dwindling bank account, I realized today that I have to get practical. I love clothes...like really love clothes...and will admit to buying things on the whim. This not only results in a complete waste of money on things that I wear only once, but a feeling that I don't have one consistent style, instead just a bunch of mix-matched pieces that don't fit well together. Being in London makes me want to change this habit pronto.

I feel that part of me has gotten fed up with things not fitting me right, trying on pants that I know will not fit me, finding beautiful clothes that look disastrous once on. It's not fun going out shopping with very, very low expectations of actually finding anything.

Being in London with a small amount of money has made me approach buying clothes in a very different light. Today I walked around Covent Garden looking for places to work and looking at clothes made out of single pieces of fabric that cost more than I will ever dream of having in my wallet. I was disappointed to say the least, having come with high hopes that I'd leave London wearing clothes that I could for once feel confident in.

Walking into TopShop (my last hope at finding anything remotely nice) I realized that, despite how often I shop, I really had no idea what I was doing. How do those girls do it? The ones who always look stylish, the ones who just seem to pick clothes that suite them? As I walked around, I promised myself that I would stay focused, not pick up anything to try on unless I was absolutely sure that I liked it, and of course not buy something just for the hell of it (not having lots of money to throw away makes this easy).

I ended up being successful. I bought a coat that, unlike many previous impulse buys, will work with lots of stuff I already own.


I also left with these shoes, flats that are unique and stand out but are relatively simple.


I learnt today that patience is key with shopping for clothing. As a result, I've found stuff that suits me and that I'm happy with.

Have I really turned into one of those girls who blogs about shopping? (Just for the record, I have absolutely no intention of turning into Rebecca Bloomwood thank-you-very-much).

Feeling Proud to be Canadian, Day 14

I have become quite obsessed with comparing England to Canada and observing the cultural differences between the two. I guess it’s because I feel different from everyone else; I sound different, I dress differently and I don’t fit that in with that “British look”. I feel truly Canadian. The moment I arrived in England, I was astounded that I could tell who was British. And not just by the way they walked or talked, but by how they looked. As I mentioned in my second blog entry, I felt absolutely out of place. I have continued to explore why this is, why I feel so “Canadian” and not just “different”. As I began to think about this more and more, I was reminded of Will Ferguson’s novel Why I Hate Canadians, a part of which I studied in my grade 11 Canadian Literature class. Though I have never been patriotic, or put much thought into what it really means to be a Canadian, I feel like all the stereotypes that define who we are (beavers, Tim Hortons, hockey, etc) are written all over me, as if those are what compose my genetic make-up. Though I can wear the fashionable clothes that are all the rage here and pick up the British lilt, I have come to the realization that I will never actually be able to fit in here completely. The countries we grow up in ultimately define who we are, how we act and what we find socially acceptable. These subconscious social manners and behaviours are what unite countries and citizens together.
In Canada, we pride ourselves to be a very multicultural country made up of all different ethnic races who are all united, who are all “Canadian”. In London there too, are many different people who have come from so many places all over the world. But unlike Canada, all of these groups of people are not united; although they live in the same areas, they shop at shops run by people from their country, they all visit the same places and stay grouped together. Not all people in England consider themselves to be British. I feel that this is different in Canada though. We are all so obsessed (subconsciously I think) with Canadian culture. We are proud to be Canadians, no matter where we originated from. I have to admit, I do feel some of this pride when people comment on my accent; I like feeling different from everyone else, I feel proud to be a Canadian.

It’s strange for me to be thinking about things like this that have never crossed my mind before.

Anyways, there is a sweet shop on the high street that I went into today. The owner was adamant that we were friends, continuing to ask me where I had been until I opened my mouth and told him I was from Canada. Apparently I have a long lost twin that often visits his shop…I don’t think I will be going back there again. After all, you should never accept candy from strange men (okay, I bought the candy obviously but still).

I hope everyone is well! xoxoxo

A Crowded Saturday Filled with Chocolate Cake, Day 11

Never go shopping on a weekend in London. Never.
Tube stations were CLOSED because of "overcrowding" today and I actually could not move in stores. When I told Samantha this (she warned me this morning about weekends in central London) she wasn't surprised. There was a LINE in front of the Ugg Boots store...that should say it all really. LINES to get into stores! And apparently that's just a normal Saturday downtown!

It's amazing just how many people there are here. It makes Toronto feel like a suburb! I have to say though, I like that there are always people around, that I just have to walk a few minutes down my street to find a street bustling with vendors selling everything imaginable. I love the noises, the smells, the bustle of the market and the accents (Ava's being a wonderful accent coach, listening to me repeat words she says and then correcting me if I've said it wrong. I'm determined to leave here with a British accent).

The girls and I made a chocolate cake to celebrate Samantha's birthday today, though half way through our baking session I began to worry that there would be no cake batter left to actually MAKE a cake...


...but all ended well and we did end up with a wonderful (though slightly picked at) cake. The girls decorated it with lots of sprinkles (more sprinkles went into their mouths than on the cake, but that was to be expected). Olivia would have laughed in my face at all the mistakes I made but considering the last time I baked (I put 1 tablespoon instead of 1 teaspoon of salt in a cookie mix and then baked them...no one in my family ever lets me forget that incident), I'd say that I did pretty good this time. Of course, I did have two gorgeous bakers in little aprons (who used their own little miniature baking utensils) by my side, so that helped.

I have been getting so much positive feedback on my blog, and am thrilled to hear that people are passing it onto others. So thank you!! I'm flattered, and love that everyone is enjoying reading it.


Xoxox!

Birthday Adventures, Day 10

Happy Birthday Samantha!
Though it was very rainy and grey today (but VERY warm outside), we all had a fantastic day.
The day started out with cards, presents, blackberry tarts, chocolate, a jaunt to the coffee shop, playtime at Tumble in the Jungle (not as bad as it sounds), dinner at Eat17 and ended with Ava collapsing from exhaustion on the living room floor at 7:30.
Maude is getting more comfortable with me, and today was filled with lots of cuddles and singing of “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star” (her version goes “twinkle, twinkle what are you? How I wonder what are you.”


As I settle in here more and more each day, the further I realize what an amazing experience this is and will continue to be. Suddenly I’m forced to make decisions on my own, without any outside suggestions or advice from my friends and family. Just yesterday for example, I had to decide if I was going to walk home by myself late at night. I know this really does not sound complicated, but when you’re in an unfamiliar country these things actually take thought. I have no idea how safe it is here, what times are dubbed “safe” and “not safe”. Though Samantha can give me her advice and tell me what she knows, it’s ultimately up to me and what I’m comfortable with. Anyways, I decided to take a taxi home but even THAT was nerve racking!! The taxi’s here look like normal cars, with no sign or hint that it’s ACTUALLY a taxi. The driver rolled down the window outside of the house I was at and asked me if I had requested a ride to the destination I had told the operator on the phone. I got into the car, realizing as I did that I wasn’t completely sure that I was getting into a cab (yes, the fact that he knew my address was a huge hint that I was safe, but still….). As the driver went on about how many crazy people there are around now a days, I was just praying that he wasn’t one of them. As we pulled up outside my house, I breathed out a huge sigh of relief. He was actually a really nice guy (I really should learn to have faith in people and not jump to the conclusion that they’re kidnappers pretending to be taxi cab drivers). He was very surprised that I tipped him (he asked me if I was SURE about giving him a pound more). When I explained that tipping is normal in the country I am from (it’s not in England) he asked if I came from America. I actually really don’t like when people assume that; Canadians really do NOT sound like Americans but anyways…

Tomorrow I am going to a store called Cath Kitston to get some wellies and an umbrella (the stuff there is actually amazingly amazing; http://www.cathkidston.co.uk/). Then I am off to the National Portrait Gallery.

My camera battery died for the first time since I’ve been here and I only just realized that I need an adaptor in order to charge it. I honestly feel quite lost without it. I will post pictures as soon as I revive it!

xoxox

Someone Else's Ordinary, Day 8

This morning Ava and Maude left early to see the Queen. They both looked absolutely wonderful. Ava had on a red dress and Maude's blond curls were extra bouncy. It was the State Opening of Parliament, and Ava reported that she saw "horses, the Queen and crisps."

Samantha took me to Stoke Newington, an area not far from where we live. I love the fact that I'm not just visiting touristy places while I'm here. I think this is because I love going to "ordinary" neighbourhoods, places where people live, places that people call home and see every single day. It's amazing for me to watch people walking to work, passing the same shops they do every day, living their lives, while I'm wide eyed and excited and overwhelmed by all the beauty surrounding me. I took lots of photos which I will post tomorrow! I love capturing beauty in someone else's ordinary, things that people pass everyday and don't think twice about.


It was very windy today so Samantha, Ava, Maude and I went to the car park at the end of our road and did some kite flying! I know I'm eighteen and all, but I have to say it was quite fun.

I feel fully settled in and I just love it here (in case you didn't know that already!) Being here makes me want to travel all over the world and see how everyone else lives, what everybody else's "ordinary" is.

Xoxoxoxox

In the Room of Decay (toronto, june 2009), Day 7

The hot air of summer coats her body in a pool of moisture, dripping down the sides of her head and onto the tips of her hair. Raindrops trapped in spider webs. Her hands crawl down to find the blankets; hot as she is, she needs to feel as though she is suffocating. This is the only way she knows that she is still here, alive, here. His room is unnaturally humid in the summer, and her hands obsessively pull open the small window to the side. Delicate pieces of moth wings fall gracefully onto her arm. She has been in these rooms before, been tangled in cotton blankets covered in pills. But never in a room as hot as this, never one where decaying insects fall from screens.

As he places his body on top of hers, she fights the pleasure that overwhelms her body by imagining a decaying human body; a hard skull crusty and grey, empty sockets where venomous eyes used to sit, a ribcage without a heart to fill it. As she shuts her eyes she imagines her skin brimming through the spaces of his ribs, soft peach clashing against the bitter rotting yellowed bones. In her mind she visualizes what is happening to her, as she normally does, in one clear image; she is no longer the one under the bones but instead the observer.

She can see the bed covered in a mix-match of blues and purples, the puke orange shag carpet covered by various pieces of clothing carelessly tossed on its surface- a sock, two shirts, an unidentifiable piece of lace. She cannot see their bodies but instead a cluster of black lines, disjointed and scratchy. If she closes her eyes tight enough, she can see herself in the various shades of ivory that fill this black outline, the skeleton. She is the color that fills his framework and, dead as she may feel, the one who makes the stiff bones ease, the missing heart appear.

She lies still. She does not want to pour any life into this carcass, she does not want to be the color that fills its outline. She can hear the skeleton’s bones rattling, can feel the bony hands glide up and down her thigh.

Stop it, she thinks. Stop it.

Puddles and Pandas, Day 6

I woke up this morning at seven am to see Ava hovering outside my bedroom door. When she realized I was awake, both her and little Maude and their entire stuffed animal collection moved into my bedroom for the next little while. After about a half hour of playing around (Maude quite fancies my jewellery basket and crystal ladybug) the girls brushed their teeth and Ava put on her school uniform (she looks absolutely wonderful).



We were all not impressed to see it pouring with rain as we ate our breakfast, and I was rather disappointed about not being able to go downtown. However, customary to English weather, it was sunny by the time Ava left for school. I decided to risk the weather and head out on my adventure (I’m beginning to realize that you never know what it’s going to be like outside because it changes so drastically in mere minutes, though puddles are guaranteed wherever you go). First I headed to Covent Garden which proved itself yet again to be my favourite place in London. I found it quite liberating to walk wherever I wanted, without any clue about where I was going or going to end up. I found the square I had been to in grade 11, where I took a photo of a street performer and the crowd flooding around him after his act. Though the performer wasn’t there, his unicycle was! It felt kind of weird to stand in the same place I had two years ago, and see that the street performer was still doing acts in the same place.


Little had I known back then that I’d be travelling the streets of London alone, returning back to one of my favourite places without any of my family.
I did get lost but (very surprisingly) I wasn’t anxious about it. I know it sounds cheesy, but I really was just too caught up in the beauty of the cobble stone streets, the double decker buses and all of the photos I was taking to worry.

After finding my way to the Underground, I had to look at the tube map (probably the most confusing thing of LIFE for someone like me who has absolutely no sense of direction) and figure out how to get to Oxford Circus. It was actually a piece of cake, and I was there in less than ten minutes. The first thing I did when I came up onto the street was gasp (I’m really not joking) at the massive TopShop across from me, shining in all its amazingness. Let me first say that I have never seen anything like Oxford Street before. It looked even bigger than I remember it being two years ago and it was SO busy. Samantha told me I was crazy to go on a Saturday and now I understand why. It was a MONDAY and there were tons of people everywhere. TopShop alone was too much for me to handle. I get easily overwhelmed and excited in big clothing stores, and this one was HUGE. Everywhere I turned there was just SO MANY amazing clothes, shoes, bags, wallets gloves, hats. It would definitely take more than two hours to see everything it’s just so huge; I mean they even had a beauty salon and a restaurant IN THE STORE. All I was thinking about was Olivia accompanying me in December for the biggest shopping trip of our lives.
The fashion here is amazing and really unique. I guess people have the time to spend hours upon hours in TopShop!

I’m getting so many e-mails from people saying they’ve been reading my blog so THANKS! I think it’s a great way to keep in touch with everyone and I hope you’re enjoying reading it!!

xxxxooooooxxx

PS. Just a random side note for no one in particular- British people seem to be obsessed with Pandas. They are everywhere I go-in the form of plush toys, plastered on sweaters and shirts, on the front of book covers and liquorice packages, on children’s television shows …it’s quite ridiculous.

Where I Live Captured on a Slumberous Sunday, Day 5

It’s a bit hard to describe the area we live in with words, simply because it is so remotely different from Canada, and so beautiful that I am afraid I won’t do it justice! So instead, Samantha took me to all the places she felt represent the area best and I took photos!

This is my room. Looking out the window you’ll see a Mosque. There’s always people bustling in and out of it, and I really like the fact it’s right outside my window.


The Dogtrack was closed this year (for some reason I thought it had been shut down for years?) It’s kind of a depressing place, only because it seems like it should be up and running, not just sitting there.


This is Coppermill. You feel as if you are in the country all of a sudden! There is an entrance up the road, and I’m going to go walk through by myself some time soon.


This is the High Street. Just a few minutes from Samantha’s house, the High Street is filled with a market on the weekdays (I will post many pictures of it…it’s quite busy and crazy) and there are shops on either side. I love it-it’s filled with culture, tradition, is always bustling AND it’s only minutes away from my front door!


This is the coffee shop. I absolutely LOVE this place. It’s run by five Algerian men who I remember from the last time we came over here. They are all so lovely and welcoming and I know most of them by name all ready. We’ve been there everyday since my arrival! I usually have hot chocolate and I was thinking today how I don’t miss Starbucks at all (did I REALLY just write that???) I do suspect that I will be getting intense cravings for Pumpkin Spice Lattes sometime in the near future, but for now I’m doing just fine.


Ava and Maude arrived home tonight and it was nice to see them (there were MANY kisses to go around…sometimes I’m afraid I’m going eat Maude up, she’s just so delicious). Tomorrow I am going to wake up early so I can help get Ava ready for school and then it’s off to Oxford Street and Covent Garden! I’m so excited; I’ve captured lots of great photos in these areas before. Expect a very long post tomorrow I’m sure!!

Love to everyone! Xoxoxoxoxox

Rain, Rain Go Away, Day 4

It finally hit me on my first night here as I climbed up the stairs to head to bed that this was it, I was in London for seven months. I got a bit sad as I realized that all my friends and family were going to be continuing their lives as per normal, and yet I was no longer a part of their daily routine, their world, and they were no longer a part of mine. I actually got nervous, thinking that everyone would forget me. This feeling went away when I opened up my e-mail last night for the first time since I arrived, seeing letters from people I had only known a short period of time, from my sister and my mom. It was the then that I realized those were the people who care the most, the ones who do not want to forget me.

This weekend Ava and Maude aren’t with Samantha and I and the house feels very quite and still. I miss kissing Maude to bits and having sophisticated conversations with Ava. Samantha and I did have a fun night last night though, staying up rather late eating fish and chips and watching “X-Factor” (the British version of American Idol). I watched True Blood for the first time as well (ohmygawd, amazing is all I can say, though I am a bit ashamed to admit it!)

I woke up today to find that it was very light outside, and I got all excited that I could finally get out my camera and take photos. Though by 11, when Samantha and I left to the local coffee shop (more about this wonderful place later) it was pouring (and I mean pouring) with rain. We didn’t have any umbrellas and I was wearing my black flats (I really need some Hunter wellies), but we managed to get done what we set out to do. I dropped off my resume to a fabulous local restaurant, and I got to go to TopShop (I almost died when I saw all the amazing, but ridiculously expensive, clothes). I can’t wait for my sister to come and shop with me in December!

On Monday, I am going to head out to Oxford Street and Covent Garden to do some shopping and take photographs. I am really, REALLLY hoping for good weather and maybe a little sunshine?

Hope everyone is well and I miss you all!

Perfect Moments with Perfect Strangers, Day 2

Airports have always fascinated me. They are filled with so many feelings-sadness of saying goodbye, excitement of saying hello, apprehension about starting a new adventure, nostalgia reminiscing about an old one. The man I sat next to on the plane (I was crammed in the middle of two people which made for a very awkward sleeping arrangement; I was scared I was going to end up resting my head on their shoulder or starting snoring in their ears) explained to me his own fascination of airports as he recounted the story (with much fervour) of how he and a stranger had gotten hammered at an airport waiting for a flight to London many years ago. Never did he see him again, but this was what enthralled him, and I understood why. Airports are magical in the sense that everyone has a story to tell, somewhere to go. You see them once, share a few words (or in my seat acquaintances’ case a few drinks) and that’s it, they are heading off in the opposite direction, ready to start their own adventures. I understood what he was saying as I thought about how kind and helpful he was being to me; I did not even know his name, I was never going to see him again. And yet he was willing to do whatever he could to help me out (calming me down while we were taking off and lifting my bags into the overhead).
I realized today on my journey that there are people willing to help you out in life (the nice ones) and there are also the ones who could care less (like the patrol officer at Victoria Station who did not help me carry my 22kg suitcase and 7kg backpack down the steep flight of stairs into the underground train station amidst the panic and plea in my eyes- a nice young British lad ended up helping me out thank GAWD). It’s all about your attitude as well-I feel that karma must of had at least something to do with all of the good, helpful, kind people that I crossed paths with today.

England greeted me with beautiful melodious accents, damp sidewalk pavements and dew delicately draped across lush greenery, just how I remembered it. As the train from Gatwick whizzed across the countryside and into London, I smiled out the window at England’s delicate beauty, the way strangers called me “lovey”, and how everything felt so absolutely foreign and yet so familiar at the same time. I noticed how you could tell who was British just by looking at them, as if the culture and tradition of England was rooted so deeply into their faces. Although I had felt different and out of place more than once in my life, my facial features and the way I dressed had never separated me so distinctly from a mass group of people. This was a weird feeling, as if everyone was looking at me, wondering where I had come from, what story I had to tell. Though I must admit, I was staring at everyone else as well, enthralled with their British ways.
I did feel a bit lonely on the train into London, only because I desperately wanted to share the beauty I was witnessing with someone. I also had the urge to whip out my camera every .2 seconds, wanting to capture those beautiful fleeting moments so I could share them with the rest of the world. But I guess I have the next 7 months to do that-and I will!

All in all, my journey from Canada to London was a perfect adventure filled with kind, helpful strangers that I will never see again. And you know what? I’m okay with that. I realize, courtesy of my seat partner, that that’s what travel is all about-bonding with strangers whom you will never see again, witnessing beautiful fleeting moments that cannot be captured, and sticking out from the crowd. It’s all about honouring and appreciating these experiences as they happen, and living in that moment, a split second that will never occur again.

I can’t believe I’m here –let day 3 begin!

Xoxoxoxo

Beginnings

I woke up this morning with Justin Nozuka's song "Be Back Soon" stuck in my head. Ironic? Maybe just a little bit!

So here I go-219 days of london. I’ve packed my life in a suitcase and am ready for a year filled with nothing but learning, adventures and homesickness. Am I scared? Yes.

Thanks everyone for joining me on this adventure. My goal is to upload a new photograph or piece of writing everyday.

I love you all! Please keep in touch! xo