It’s Friday and the thought of cooking and eating in our cramped apartment was not enticing. So A and I decided to meet up at Angel.

One of the annoying things about London is that everytime you walk into a restaurant, you’re effectively gambling away roughly £25. You really just never know if your coke is going to be lukewarm or your steak is going to be rubbery. Its easy to doubt the reviewers too because – well really, do they even know what they’re talking about if they grew up eating London food??

We decided to go out on a limb today and thought we’d splurge on a place called Byron. We’d heard from a few sources that the burgers there were well worth the money; and it really isn’t good to walk past it every week without putting their word to the test.

So we strolled in at about half past seven. The place had some people but plenty of seats upstairs for two. We sat down and was promptly presented with two menus each. Burgers/ salads/ sides/ drinks and desserts.

It was a quick affair with the simple and uncrowded menu. A ordered a Byron Burger (patty with bacon and cheese), I ordered a cheese burger (I chose blue cheese from a small gourmet selection), courgette chips cought my eye and A didn’t need much convincing to agree. Drinks and food were ordered and we sat back with a sudoku each until the food arrived.

First up – icy frosted glasses. This alone is going to bring me back again. Ever since we arrived in London we’ve been complaining about how bad refrigeration seems to be – because our drinks are never cold enough. Most of the time the ice is already in a puddle before it reaches my table.

Not only was my lemonade fresh, it came in a ice frosted glass with chunks of ice (that were still there at the end of my meal) topped with a slice of lemon and sprig of mint.

Not long after, our food arrived. Bowl of extremely crunchy looking courgette (zucchini) chips and wholesome burgers with half a pickle on the side.

True to London fashion, the chips were not salted. But the crunchy outside with the melting middle more than made up for it. We sprinkled some salt and pepper on top. And it was perfect.

Our burgers were cooked medium, just like they promised. My giant chunk of blue cheese slice was slowly melting into the crevices of my meat patty; with my new found favorite hot sauce on top, this truly was a great burger.

A’s Byron Burger had a special Byron sauce that was reminiscent of thousand island dressing but with a zing.

All in all we decided our meal was excellent. The only thing we could think of to improve was the bun and we promptly wrote this down on the feedback card and handed it back with our £23 of payment. We left the now crowded restaurant with a smile on our faces, smug that we’d come at the right time and arn’t one of the fools lining up by the door.

Hopefully they send us discount vouchers for my birthday. Why else would they ask for a birth date on the feedback card right???

With all the commotion of Tuesday night, I’d forgotten about my other exciting outing.

Burlesque Life Drawing!

I found a website that organises weekly life drawing get-togethers at £10 a pop. Not bad considering some classes go for about £40. They even provide pencils/charcoal and paper for 20p/p.

Found another one in Islington for £7 so trying that as soon as I get a bit of cash in!

Was from 6:30-9:30. Damn was it draining. I left at 9.

It was nice to finally do something creative again. I miss all my craft stuff, but i’m glad a sketchbook and some pens help.

Here are 3 I specifically chose because they were the best – no – ONLY good ones I did that night.

It is a Wednesday morning, and as everyone swims through the sludge that is ‘hump day’, I am propelled through it by the tidlewave of drama that ensued last night.

Let me rewind and hit play.

In the realm between dream and wakefulness I hear the sound of a phone ringing. But of course there are no phones in this apartment of ours. It is the intercom.

With the past months of noise outside our little capsule of a room, it has become easy to ignore constant interruption at 3am. So it is with relief that the insistant noise is only the intercom and not rave music – I return into light slumber.

It’s hard to know how much time has gone by, but eventually I hear the knock on our front door and muffled apologies as our landlord opens it- seemingly for our dropkick housemates. Somehow in my state of semi-sleep I am still able to comprehend all this.

As the noises stop, I fall back into a state of unconciousness only to be woken up intermittently by the sound of drawers banging. I vowed that I would give it a couple more minutes before I went into the hall in a fit of rage to tell them to “please shut the fuck up”.

The minutes never eventuated.

Before I know it, I hear yelling, screaming and incessant pleas to “please let go of me” from a familiar effeminate voice.

At this point, A finally decides to awake from deep slumber and turn to me with a sleepy and questioning look on his face. I rearrange my facial muscles to say “I don’t know… WTF”.

The screams become louder. Examples: “let me go, let me go”, [effeminate sobbing], “get away from me”, “don’t touch me”, and believe it or not “you took my fabrics and you SOLD them” etc etc etc.

A and I sit up on our beds wondering if we should go save this poor chap or leave it be and keep ourselves from being beaten to death in our own apartment. Even in the tired state I was in, I wasn’t exactly scared, it was more of an andrenic curiosity.

Finally, some thumping noises, door slamming and more yelling later, we decide we couldn’t stay in our safe little bubble any longer. This was way too exciting to miss! We paved our way downstairs cautiously - behind the kitchen door we heard anxious muffles, while upstairs behind another door we heard someone else blow their nose – I don’t know why I remember this minor detail. Feeling like we shouldn’t intrude, we skulked back to our room in a state of limbo.

All the while, outside in the court below, we could hear concerned neighbours yelling our landlord’s name (he’s a friendly chap and the neighbours know and generally like him). In an irate voice, we heard him reply-”I’m fine. I’m ok. It’s just a fight. Indoor fight. I’m ok. Can you call the police please?”

They seemed oblivious to his last request, and promptly I heard him speaking tiredly down the phone, asking for the police and the ambulance. A and I pace forwards and backwards, not knowing what to do or where to go, with the limited space in the apartment, we couldn’t exactly stand around watching the show from afar; we were either in it, or out of it.

After another call to the police – according to our eavesdropping, our landlord was unsure the police were taking him seriously, and wanted to make sure they were making their way over – they finally arrived. Blue flashing lights illuminated our room in movie-esque style, A and I opened our door, sure that we would be safe now that the blues were here.

What happend next was a blur, most of the night are fragments of what we heard through our door and from outside our window above all the commotion. What we gather is the Deans (our gay roomies both have D names):
-Had a fight of some sort (we heard key words money, cash machine, homeless person)
-D1 the scared one ran home earlier (presumably away from his loverboy) – this explained the incessant doorbell.
-D1 starting packing his things (explains the drawer rukkus)
-D2 came home shortly after (this is when things started to get loud)

We heard D2 try to tell the cops what happend but couldn’t figure out if he was lying. He insists that D1 has all his money otherwise wouldn’t care where he went to stay the night.

After all that, we figured D1 went off into sanctuary in a taxi. D2? A thinks he saw his blonde mane in the back of the cop car.

It was hard to go back to sleep with all that adrenaline pumping through our veins, but finally we filtered back into the murky depths, both agreeing – yes, now we must SURELY be entitled to new room mates?

When I woke up this morning, things seemed less dramatic. Besides their open room door (they never have it open), and a toppled vase with fake plants strawn around it, you would never guess what had happend the night before.

As the day comes to an end, me and A look forward to a little chat with our landlord, hoping the lucky stars have finally aligned for us – will we really be looking forward to new and better roomies? Cross your fingers and your toes for us!

Did you know that Oxford University’s brand colour has it’s own Pantone code?
Neither did I, until today, because I bought a blue Oxford t-shirt for my da and was wondering if maybe I should have got grey. Turns out I got lucky.

So a few new things have changed since my last post.

Most importantly – I have a job. *Cheer!Huzzah!Hurrah!* – sort of.
Being a PA/EA sounds fancy, until you realise, you’re really just someone’s bitch. I spend all day organising someone else’s life, while not having much of my own. I don’t think I’m too bad at it, but it’s not an industry (recruitment) I care much about so motivation isn’t exactly – UP THERE. But I think about Venice, Paris, Amsterdam and the day goes by quicker as my eyes glaze over.

One thing good that’s come of it is that a workmate informed me of some cheap deals.
Which leads me to my next thing.

My First Out-Of-London experience!!! OXFORD, OXFORDSHIRE! – £10 return with a valid Oyster Card. Cheaaaaaaap as! We could’ve also gone to Cambridge, but somehow Oxford sounded more – posh.

We really weren’t sure what to expect. Just an old, quiet town. And we weren’t that far off. But A and I both agree that Oxford is how you imagine England to be before you actually land in London. Our visit was during the summer break so I’m guessing it was quieter than usual, it was a welcome if not very slightly odd quietness – it kind of felt like we were on the set for Hot Fuzz.

The town itself seems like one giant university. Old buildings, college houses and faculties are dotted all over town, between old castles and chain restaurants. Big Red tour buses snake between old buildings and modern shopping centres.

We did a tour of Oxford Castle – most well known for being a ‘gaol’ (until 1996!!). It was cool – literally – being in a big stone building. Loved the light-hearted history lesson that came with the tour!

We did the tourist-shop rounds and 2 pins, 1 t-shirt, 1 jumper and 1 scarf later, we decided food was on the menu. And lo-and-behold – First.Ever.Jamie’s.Italian!!!!
It was on the expensive side, but we couldn’t go home knowing we walked passed a Jamie restaurant and didn’t taste anything.

Our Order:
1xTruffle Tagliatelle – main
1xTruffle Chips
1xTiramisu

We were on a budget, but was surprisingly full after.

The Tagliatelle was delicious. Simple, buttery, garlicky, MUSHROOMY! The Truffle chips weren’t very truffly, but still crispy and delicious with shaved parmasen on top. Tiramisu was slightly on the sweet side, but the orange zest equalled it out – creme fraiche on the side was perfect.

We called it a night, and headed back to London – ready for work the next day. All in all, a successful day trip!

123►

As I’ve kept saying, eating out in London isn’t exactly easy on the pocket – or the mouth. So me and A have resorted to cooking at home a lot. Kitchen experiments range from a normal stir fry to mushroom meatballs. Here are a few that we remembered to photograph!

Things in London that make me think of people I love…

Vee – seeing a girl with a Lomo taking a picture of trash, English/Asian couples

Catherine – hearing Sigur Ros while travelling on the bus, delicious looking pastries, stylish Londoners, fresh food

Jan – shoe stores, Top Shop, people with good make up, people with bad make up, craft markets, Boots Pharmacies, Soho sex stores

Liz – old school architecture, museums, parks, fresh food

Ban – hearing Coldplay while travelling on the bus, China Town

Mitch – tourist pins, pubs

Jason – people reading on buses, tube stations with low ceilings, any underground place with low ceilings

Rena – Hunterian Museum (of medical pickles), Natural History Museum

Dad – bikers, bike lanes, bikeshop cafes

The Boys – game stores, science museum

The Girls – market shopping, Oxford St shopping, all of London’s shopping!!!

Chuckie – puppies, dogs, parks, poop on the street

It is quite possible, that we’ve found heaven…as we know it.

A random suggestion to visit London Bridge has lead us to the goldmine that is Borough Market.

We had no idea what would be at London Bridge, well, besides a bridge. So when we stepped off the bus and saw a sign saying “Borough Market This Way”, we shrugged our shoulders and followed the sign pointing into a dingy under-the-bridge tunnel… the rest of the day was a blur…

It was like the pot of gold at the end of the tunnel…

Our nostrils filled with the smells of grilling meat, cheeses and fresh bread; while our eyes feasted on the brightly coloured fruits, veges and cakes. I had a few reactions.

Orgasm – no, just kidding, close though.
Excitement – at the smells, the colours, the things to explore.
Anger – that we’d just ate… and that I’d neglected to bring my DSLR camera.
Guilt – at how disgustingly bad I thought ALL Londoners ate.
and finally
Relief – that we won’t be in good-food-starvation mode any longer.

We spent about an hour just trolling through the 3 markets and noted down everything we were coming back for – and that’s exactly what we did the next day.

Behold, pictures of our discovery!

12►

It’s 12am in London, and my mind slowly blanks as I try to write a summary to ‘promote myself’ for the guardian.co.uk jobsearch site.
I am looking for a word that describes someone to be responsive, it starts with P, and it’s one of those words that I like but always forget.

Instead I came across this little gem, which I wanted to share with everyone

Nine Things Worthy of Pursuit – Rod Smith

It made me think of my favorite poem by Rudyard Kipling, also what I strive to live my life by.

How about that for going off on a tangent. Back to self promotion then…

One of the major reasons I wanted to move to move to a new city/travel is to experience living out of familiarity; obvious things like new friends, new work, new environment.

Then there are the little things that you never think about. From the water pressure when you shower to having space to dry your laundry to buying coat-hangers (because you don’t have the ones you’ve accumulated from years of dry cleaning). This list could go on, but I speak today about the experience of finding a home.

It’s been almost 3 weeks since we’ve arrived in London. And 2 days ago, we officially moved into a new place – Hurrah!!

To say we were excited is a gross understatement, and I’d say our excitement was on par with relief. When Thursday rolled around, we couldn’t wait to finally settle in and create our own little bit of peace in the brilliantly hectic city that is London.

We unpacked, cleaned and took inventory of the necessities we had to purchase (like coat hangers and a drying rack!). All in all we were quite happy with how we’d done. We’d found a decent place, good price and there was even a window. The landlord was friendly and from what we’d seen of the housemates they were nice and clean. We fell asleep that night with a smile on our faces.

That is, until we were woken up by loud thumping noises at 4am.

Did I mention the housemates are a gay couple?

Unsavoury noises came from the room next door for the next hour. We heard a phone drop among… other things.

Needless to say, we were traumatised, and wondered what the hell we’d done. We lay in bed, exhausted from the disturbed sleep we had and decided the best way to go about it was to just introduce ourselves – maybe they were loud cos they didn’t know we were here? After all, we haven’t had a chance to say hi to them yet…

We knocked on their door 3 times before we gave up with no answer, our imagination took over and we were in panic mode. For the rest of the day, we came up with contingency plans about what to do about unfriendly housemates. Confront them? Move out? But what if they don’t even talk to us? How can we trust having our personal belongings in the same house as these people???

To add fuel to the fire, our friend started to make us panic about scammer landlords and the dangers of London. We literally spent the day in a blind panic running around learning about cancelling cheques, lease agreement and trying to figure out who we could call if we had to bail from our new home.

We finally calmed down and decided that we really should try to get to know the house mates before we did anything stupid/drastic.

Turned out they were drunk, they apologised for the noise (I don’t know how fair their apology extends, but I’m giving them the benefit of the doubt). They were friendly – still private, but I think the worst is over – for now.

Lets just say, it was an adventure, not necessarily a good one, but I’m still glad we had it.

Keep you guys update!

Here’s our new ‘home’ so far!

Hey guys!

Photos by popular demand!
Would love to have given you more, but house hunting has temporarily taken over our lives.

Actually some photos of the ridiculous places we’ve seem would’ve made a good post, we’ve seen one with a brick wall outside the window, one with NO window, one with NINE bedrooms, one came with a guy eating instant noodles out of a pot in his pj’s at 2pm…one that had 2 single beds that looked like it belonged in a dirty jail cell and another which had windows that opened straight onto a main road – it used to be a shop front.

All that aside, we’ve managed to sneak in a day or 2 of ‘sight seeing’ and LOTs of walking around. Here’s the proof!

12►