London Bridge is burning down

This post is a melange of an extract of a recent e mail as well as some extra bits and bobs...

“Hi friendies

I have been staying in a corporate apartment in Tower Hill, which is in the middle of the business district. The area is flanked by the notorious London Bridge and Tower Hill castle. The apartment is really modern and beautifully kitted out, not palatial but big enough to swing a cat. I feel like a spoilt brat, and that my deserved spot is on a couch somewhere in Wimbledon or the like.

Night view of Tower of London taken with my phone

Tower Hill is on the River Thames, and has afforded me the odd run along the water and over London Bridge which I have loved.  I can see the Tower of London from my apartment, which is spectacular at night. The Tower (which currently houses the Crown Jewels) is on the north bank of the Thames and was founded in 1066 when the Normans conquered England. William the Conqueror played a major role in its construction and contributed the White Tower as a symbol of oppression. The castle was used as a royal residence in the Tudor period, and later a prison in the 16^th and 17^th centuries. Many famous executions took place within its walls during that time, such as that of Anne Boleyn. Tower Hill also featured in the Great Fire of London in the 1600’s.

Borough market

Just a short walk from my apartment takes me over the Thames river across London Bridge to Borough market. Borough is a food market which can be scoured for any gourmet food, and organic fruit and vegetables. I found myself weaving my through its many lined stalls with one Sandra Field one Saturday morning.

Wishing I looked this fabulous...

I am trying to look for my own place, and have been traipsing the streets of London day in day out, night in night out, alone, hungry, besieged by the winter dust and hopeless. Just a joke... but I am feeling somewhat sorry for myself as you can see. I kit myself out in jacket, gloves and scarf, and thick boots for the journey. I have given up milk and sugar for lent, so I drink hot chocolate instead. Trying to look for a house in London is like going for an interview as the CEO for Standard Bank. I have had to fend questions such as “What do you consider to be your strengths and weaknesses?” and “Is there anything else we need to know about you?” Moreover, I have had to think quite seriously about the answers.

Street view of Angel

I really want to stay in a place called Angel, which is in North East London, and probably made the search more difficult because I’m being fussy. It’s a great mix between being trendy and a bit off the wall, and nice and comfortable to live. The upper high street is lined with gorgeous bars, cafes and boutique and vintage shops. Last Friday I went for dinner there on my own (alone not lonely!) while I waited to see a house. Bought the Vogue, sipped on a glass of wine, sat in a rustic cafe and devoured a salad. It was absolutely lovely.

I have seen some quaint and cute places (still waiting to hear on how those interviews went) but some equally horrendous, more disturbing places. We are truly spoilt for choice in South Africa. Yesterday, I found myself hacking through some old quiet street, lined with fried chicken take away’s, chavs with backward faced caps and young twenty something mums pushing prams beneath 10 storey brick building complexes. I nearly left, but I had walked all that way, I thought I had better see the place. I was let in by a middle 30 something man, hugely overweight, and transparently white. He introduced me to his Welsh flat mate (I was to be the third). He was sitting on the grubby sofa, eating something (probably fried chicken). I politely looked at the grotty bathroom we were to all share, and said I’d let them know. Then I went home and watched Gossip Girl.

During one of the less appealing house viewings I came across a French guy, who was viewing the house at the same time as I was. He looked like a cool dude, around my age, with coiffed hair, retro glasses and porting a beret. Drawing on South African courage and tenacity, I cornered him outside the apartment and said “Hey you look like a cool dude. Dig your glasses. Let's live together”. So, Adrien (whose family live in Paris and Marseille) and I are currently traipsing Angel together, looking for a promising pad.

Oh, and I entered the lottery for the London marathon on 2012. Yikes.

Miss you all.

Love Aims"