London, England
Is it weird to blog on the daily? The whole point of this European adventure is to lead a path of adventure and self-discovery, to disconnect from the daily distractions of technology and meaningless updates that were home. But here goes … currently I am sitting on this big couch in a flat in Herne Hill, a quaint and cozy little neighborhood just outside London. Breakfast is being cooked in the kitchen. The white window has been pushed open and I can see the greenery through the curtains, it quite reminds me of a particular movie and I keep wishing someone will appear while I am sleeping with fairy dust to teach my heart to fly on wings. How fitting would that be for the start of an adventure? I could be a lost boy.
Obviously I can’t expect a single weekend in a foreign land to completely change my life, but the journey has definitely begun. I’ve been presented with decisions and stress, but here I have to overcome them without any of the sources I normally use. I haven’t been tweeting, burning, or other such nonsense – it may have only been two days, but that’s progress. Or at least the start of it.
Anyways, I arrived to London Friday afternoon to meet my friend at the airport. After a stop at Victoria station and an expedition to navigate public transportation we made it up to Herne Hill, where we sat in Brockwell Park waiting for our host. Even just laying in the grass you could fill differences – the ambulances that drove by sound different, the cloudy day. After we dropped our things in the flat a few hours later we went to this pub with live music – Hootananny. Live music played, a real interesting type that I don’t even know what to classify as, and there was crappy Mexican food to remind us we definitely weren’t in Californian anymore. We spent the rest of the night strolling through Brixton. All the streets seem so small here, the street signs placed on the sides of brick buildings instead of poles, and the way they are made of cobblestone or brick just makes walking feel better.
Yesterday was a journey. We had coffee in the morning, then went to the Camden Park market. Markets are always lovely, no matter where you go, some kind of cultural hub that brings such a variety of people together, outside in the open fresh air. There were so many different types of foods, from all sorts of countries, which definitely demonstrated that we are now on European ground. After we went over to a different neighborhood for the Hackney Wicked Art Festival. As soon as we arrived we saw a band with weird huge hats on a float, and then began exploring. A skate park, a live band with little children as guest stars, a beer garden type of thing next to the canal, a view of the Olympic Park, random people doing “dance therapy”, b-boys coming out of studio practice, and plenty of art galleries. It was completely unexpected and therefore also quite lovely.
Finally, we wandered around this corner to an art gallery/bar that ended up being one of the coolest places I’ve ever been. This little building had a live DJ playing some really great music, and huge portraits of artwork by Timothy Cresswell. The man is fascinated by spheres, and from a printed interview taped to the wall I knew it was because he liked how spheres demanded to be in 3D. He also said he believes the most magical power is that to do good. There was a canal just outside, where we sat on the steps and ended up meeting a few guys from Barcelona and having some life discussions. When we all went inside to dance some girl pulled me onto one of the art pieces, a spiral of flour on a big black table. Another girl pulled my beanie over my face and threw flour over me, then I got a huge floury hug from a stranger and we all danced covered in white. Some girl told me I had “wicked moves” and danced with me. One of the guy’s asked me who I knew there, he was part of the friend group that put on the show, and it was slightly thrilling to be in a place where I could honestly say I knew nobody from. After the show was over we set out into the night where we found a random empty lot surrounded by brick buildings with a DJ playing hip-hop. We danced in the street for awhile, completely free, nobody from home knowing my exact location. It took us two hours to get home, switching between double-decker night buses, staring out the window as cobblestone streets and brick buildings rolled out of your vision, all covered in rain, until we returned home and drank tea until it was time for sleep.
Well, we’ve had our bacon sandwiches and are ready for another day, so I’m out.
Cheers!
when-in-roam-> 