How is it that I can buy a digital camera at Tescos (supermarket chain) for less than the price of a disposable camera? Mind you I also had to buy batteries to go in it and they cost the same price again. But still!!! I've been smacking myself on the back of my head for losing my camera battery charger. I have this amazing Sony 8MG pixel camera that I bought before leaving home in 2006. But it does me no good because somewhere between Mum's place and my Tooting flat I lost the charger. I have a sneaking suspicion there is a customs officer in Singapore with an extra camera charger he dug out of the lost and found box at the airport. My lovely brother found me a new charger in Sydney and my wonderful mother has posted it to me but unfortunately it won't be here in time for Easter which is when I head off on my next adventure - road tripping through Northern Ireland. Hence why I grabbed the camera at the supermarket this afternoon. You can also blame my lack of blogs on my lack of camera battery charge too.
Because of my lack of camera I have been looking at London with the eyes of someone who has to rely on words rather than pictures to describe the situation. And it is a enlightening experience. Maybe it is because I walk or catch public transport everywhere instead of drive that I am seeing more of "life" and it makes you smile. Like the man in Victoria Library on Saturday. I went up there in search of a particular crime thriller I was searching for and ended up sitting against the stacks enthralled in a book. Half an hour into my little read I heard a thud and looked up to see the old man asleep, having dropped his book. He sat there snoring away for a good 20 minutes before he woke himself up with a particularly loud snort and promptly lent down to pick up the book and continue reading. Then there is the little girl in the line with her mother at the bank. We stood there having a competition crossing our eyes and giggling. Then there is the laundromat - a mecca for random people. I go down the road to dry my sheets for the grand sum of 40p. One week I sat and chatted to a guy from Clapham South who was washing and drying the team shirts for the rugby team he played for "The Pink Ladies". I helped him fold some shirts while we talked about travel and places we'd been and were yet to go. Another week I got into a debate with a large black Caribbean lady about British celebrities in the OK magazine. And then last week a old man came in and started talking to me while he spun and dried his weekly washing. His preferred topic - the size of railway tracks in Ireland and their influence on the Indian-Pacific track in Australia. He also had a lot to say about the women's vote coming into effect in the 1920s.
I notice more things during my walks to and from school too. I think I let life whizz by my side mirrors in Australia as I drove past in my Mazda 6. I notice how gorgeous little children are in their coats and scarves, especially little girls with stockings and Mary Jane shoes on. I notice that I pass 13 men walking to the station in the morning and 19 women. There are also spy puddles here. You can't see them. They are in stealth mode. The only way you figure out that they are there is when you're ankle deep in water. I have a sneaking suspicion that they have a plot to take over the footpaths of London. I currently have 3 pairs of shoes up against the radiator trying to dry out. But I have come up with a way to bring down this invasion!
We had amazing wind storms and rain showers earlier this week. The wind was pushing at me with such force that I made it home in half the time it usually takes me! :) But my trusty M&S umbrella was a casualty of war. On my charge home, I saw that there was not just a ripple of water running across the stealth puddles, but an actual current! And for the first time in a long time I made it home with dry shoes! So, to flush out the enemy we just need to watch for the tell tale sign of a puddle being pulled out to sea! :P
Yes, I think I have lost the plot. But I bought a camera today so the next blog should be back to normal. Either that or London has made me cuckoo again and I need to escape. Good thing I am headed over to Ireland tomorrow.