Inevitability

Winter is coming.

I swear that in the 2 weeks that my mother was here, and while my feet were barely touching the ground, the season changed.

As soon as I had time to take a deep breath and open my eyes again, all of a sudden it was darker, cooler, and the psyche of this town shifted, just a little.

Everywhere I walk now, the shadows of fallen oak leaves (probably swept up at 4 am by the street cleaner) stain the roads and the pavements like ghosts. They are quite beautiful, and I must admit, when I first noticed them everywhere as I walked to work, I was delighted. Silly things like this I guess, are what we don’t really have in Australia.

Just like London breathes in, breathes out and relaxes when the sun comes out, the trees seem to wait until the first day of autumn to breathe in and let their leaves fall to the ground with a sigh.

Other signs of the looming winter abound.

I arrived home to my flat a few weeks ago and literally had to de-robe as soon as I walked in the door. The heating for the whole of the block where I live had been switched on and as the boiler is located right underneath the floor of my flat, the pipes were (ironically) piping hot for a solid week, while the managers of the building tried to get the temperature right. The happy bonus of this is that, in winter, the flat will always be warm and this will, apparently, save us quite a bit of coin.

Where previously I could leave work at 6pm and trot along Aldersgate street with the sun sitting high in the sky, I now exit the revolving doors to a rapidly darkening sky. When I go to the gym, I emerge at 7 and it is totally dark. When I first arrived the sun didn’t set until well after 9. This, I find, is a little depressing.

I have noticed certain gastronomical changes in myself of late. Defaulting in my choice of beverage to a cup of tea is one of them. When I get to work, when I get home and when I am going to bed, I lose control of my will as my body, without prompt, goes through the motions of getting out my mug, boiling the kettle and preparing the brew. I only regain control when I am sat holding, two-handed, a steaming mug of English tea. It’s all a bit strange really.

The preference for stodge is also developing. I noticed this initially the other night when I went to a great little pub around the corner called the Bird in Hand, and on a lovely menu of all sorts of tasty treats, I chose sausage and mash. And my word, that cheesy mash and those yummy yummy Baron’s Court Butcher’s bangers, tasted lovely as they descended down through my oesophagus, on the way to their ultimate destination which I imagine (although this is obviously speculation) is either that nice soft bit of my tummy about an inch below my belly button, or (and this is more likely), to my thighs.

But I digress.

One of the definite upside’s of this whole getting colder business, is the clear days. Last weekend I had the fortune of attending a christening in Holmefirth, inYorkshire, and I don’t think we could have had more perfect weather. Although, naturally, 16 degrees is a little cold for my tastes, a clear sky with the odd fluffy cloud, no wind, and the rolling hills of West Yorkshire were, to my mind, absolutely exquisite.

A fellow christening-goer asked me whether we had views like that in Australia, and while I think we certainly do, I answered him by pointing out the things we wouldn’t have – stone walls that look like they were built 400 years ago (although it was probably 500 years ago) and little country cottages with triangular roofs, also made of stone. In Australia we have other things, but there are few I think, who can dispute the beauty of the northern countryside.

Anyway, life is going well here. I start my new job this week, and am very much looking forward to my first work trip the following week, to Bulgaria. I now have a blackberry for work which means you can email me on my work address at any hour of the day or night and I will get it. I can’t quite decide whether that is cool or depressing.

Right, well I have wasted nearly my entire Saturday on the phone and typing this for later upload to the blog (no internet at home right now…. grrrr!) so I am going to stop and get out of the house for a bit. So until next time, ciao.

(Oh yeah, I hear there is an election on. For a laugh go to this page.)

W14

There comes a time in every girl's life where she has to confess that she has been extremely slack, and in turn, apologise profusely...

This is my time.

I haven't blogged very much lately.

But in my own defence, may I just say, that is has been a rather busy period.

To being with, I moved into my new flat on Tuesday. Many of you would have received the email updating my contact details, and the London savvy amongst you will recognise that the title of this post is a reference to my postcode. Ahem.

Anyway, I am sharing with a German girl who is a product designer (this is her website) and a Greek boy who is in finance. Thus far it has been cool. My room is pretty comfortable and I am personalising it bit by bit. It's in West Kensington which sounds a bit posher than it is, but it's great for transport etc etc, and I think I have stumbled on a pretty good deal.

So what are my other excuses?

Well, Mum was here for a fortnight, which consumed my time a fair bit. We had a great time, traipsing up and down the country and across to Belgium for a weekend too. Even though it hadn't been too long since I last saw my folks, having them around certainly reminds you of such things as; how restrained your personality generally is when you aren't with family and close friends and, how nice it is to be able to turn to your mum and say in a whingy, juvenile voice - mu-um i can't iron shirts as well as you can, puh-leeaase will you iron this one for me (complete with ear to ear slightly pleading grin...... and yes, i realise how extraordinarily stupid i have just made myself sound).

Anyway, it was fab having mum around (did I just say fab?!) and I will miss her loads. And all I can say is, thank goodness Dad was in Brussels to condone my beer-drinking despite the protestations of my mother.

Brussels, as an aside, is a very cool city. I can't imagine that you would be able to have an action-packed week there, but for a weekend of Moulles, fine Belgian beer in copious quantities, and restraint-impairing chocolates I can hardly think of anywhere better. I also dined on the best and poshest chip and sausage sandwhich over which I have ever cast my eyes, in a place called Fritte Paradise, or something similar. Fritte as in Pomme Fritte, meaning chip (in french, I think).

Fans of dance music might also be surprised to hear that I heard remarkably cool sounding electro pumping out about the place, everywhere that I seemed to trot. There also appeared to be a number of impromptu outdoor dance events happening on the Saturday night - somewhat random, but tres cool. Mmmmhmm.

What else, what else? Oh yes, Labour conference!

Well what an experience that was. It made me realise how comparatively clueless I am about British politics as compared to the Oz situ. But it is also quite interesting to be told after the fact that you just brushed shoulders with a cabinet minister without realising it.

I scored possibly the best deal possible in terms of a conference - as an international guest (and hilariously, sole rep of the ALP!) I had invites to all the wicked international events as a 'sister-party' member, and rubbed shoulders with the PM on a couple of occasions (well as much as you can when you have his security entourage between you and he) and was also lumped in with all the random foreign dignatories who were invited - i.e. Ambassador's and High Commissioners from here there and everywhere. My Belgian counterparts and I had a good laugh on several occasions as we couldn't believe our luck!

The PM's speech was a highlight, obviously. I didn't think it a flawless performance, but it certainly did many things on many levels, and was an impressive feat of speech writing. The Q & A session for international guests with 4 cabinet ministers present was another highlight. We had the Foreign Secretary, Development Secretary, Home Secretary and the Defence Secretary all together answering whatever was thrown at them. Intriguing and impressive.

People who call the Cabinet here a brat-pack are seriously underestimating the intelligence of these people. I wish the ALP had comparable talent to play with.

I also attended several very interesting fringe events, which are basically seminars put on by NGO's and think tanks debating every topic you could possibly imagine. I am such a nerd, and I have given up denying it, but I particularly enjoyed a debate on whether 'individual aspiration kills communities'. I could write another entire post on that session, but basically, I was interested to see entirely different conclusions drawn to what I was expecting.

But after the speeches were finished and the fringes over each day, the real fun began. Free receptions with plenty of wine on hand, and plateful's of fried finger food to soak it up. Hobnobbing, chinwagging and stumbling ensued each evening, with the inevitable plod home through the rolling curves of the Bournemouth coast to my hotel.

Anyway, conference was a great experience, and I hope to wangle my way in somehow next year. I shall spend some hours sitting at the desk in my new room, tapping my fingers together in a Mr Burns-esque way, plotting my return.

And it is going to take hours of plotting, because I have a new job. Same firm, but a step out of immigration and into a role that is going to entail a fair amount of travel to Eastern Europe, a bit of hobnobbing and chinwagging (hopefully sans cheap wine) and obviously, some legal work too. Very exciting, and starting in 3 weeks.

Finally, and least importantly, as many of you are obviously aware - it was my birthday a while back. I have reached the inglorious milestone of a quarterofacentury. Bleurgh.

So, though this has been a slightly lengthy apology for my lack of output, I hope that it has been worth the wait. Sadly, probably not.

Don't forget the photostream for associated pictures!

Unabashed Gloating

I was on the Eurostar to Brussels when I found out that the Power had lost the GF by an unprecedented margin. And I have to say, it was with outright glee that I read the SMS from Aunty Mel telling me so.

Sucked in Power.

Anyway, I have been pretty slack on here lately, and I apologise to my loyal readers (mainly my grandparents I think).

I am leaving Brussels tonight, bidding my Dad adieu for now, and then Mum is helping me move into my new place tomorrow. She leaves the following day, and so ends a whirlwind trip!

I have lots to write about Labour conference which I went to last week - was wicked. But I cant do it now so until later.

Bye bye!