After two long flights, countless naps at Singapore airport and almost face planting my plane dinner after falling asleep the minute it was delivered and then waking up to find it completely gone, I have successfully arrived.
It rained. I didn't care.
As we were landing, I peered enthusiastically out the tiny window, drinking in the thousands of shiny lights, in disbelief. The moment we landed I looked around at my fellow passengers, expecting clapping, cheering, maybe some party hats and banners. Nothing. Blank expressions and weary eyes occupied their faces. Did they not realise where we were? Did they not know we had just landed at one of the biggest, busiest and best cities on the planet?
Obviously not.
I mirrored their expression, but my insides were like an English football match, tiny little balls of colour running round widely and excitedly, not really knowing what the hell they were doing, but goddamn enthusiastic all the same.
The customs line took an age but I didn't mind. Joining the 'All Passports' line meant I was metaphorically shifted to the kids table. I wanted the sound of Britain but was handed a motley accented bunch of Australians, Americans, and Jamaicans but I could still make out that beautiful sound. Like singing birds on a mild, summers morning, the sound of the British accent rose above, delighting my ears with 'innit', 'roight' and 'next!' (Which unfortunately sounds pretty much the same).
I got through in a breeze (despite probably acting like I had a half tonne of A class nestled where the sun don't shine) and picked up my waiting bags, a warning 'caution: heavy' label, the newest addition to my well travelled case.
Following the hustle and bustle of a typically busy Heathrow airport, I followed a young family, chatting excitedly with eagerness to see whoever Patty and Bill were. I pushed aside the wish of having my own Patty and Bill. Little did I know, I'd get better. Not three steps out of the gates, an inappropriately dressed, red headed girl could be seen ducking the barriers and making her way towards me! After passing off the likelihood I had found myself a stalker, I was stoked to see Millie. It was just 7am! She may have had 'nothing to do' but it was still the crack of dawn!
After 25 hours of no talking, bar 'chicken please' and 'apple juice, no ice', it made for a squeaky first speech. My excitement merely emanated as 'eek!'.
My first day has been wonderful. Millie managed to easily navigate me to Shepherds Bush Market, despite my super organisational skills and pre printed maps, and I found my new (glorious) home without a hiccup.
After painfully lugging my suitcase up four flights of stairs (yes. My room is on the fourth storey) and finally showering, Millie and I walked to Holland Park with a Tesco's 3 pound meal deal tucked under our arms. It was a chilly lunch, with the ever threatening London rain present, but I was kept highly entertained with Millie's refusal to resist the squirrel temptation. She's obsessed. Pretty sure she was a squirrel in her former life.
I'm halfway to getting a national insurance number and somewhere along the path to getting a bank account. Accommodation and job still remain futile. But who needs a job when you have a bank account right?
Oh shit.
I'm off to eat my Snickers.
No comments:
Post a Comment