Weekend Warrior

My weekend has been delightful. Today it is Sunday and the sun is shining. It was surprisingly cold last night and this morning's walk around the park found the fountains turned off and a sheet of ice over the water's surface of the river. But I have every expectation that the sun will take care of it soon. I enjoyed my stroll around the Serpentine with a tea and a fellow Londoner, whom I had meet unexpectedly on the street two weeks ago. It was interesting to hear about his life and his work, and nice to take my usual walk accompanied by someone - however, I imagine that our differences are more vast than our similarities and I will find myself resuming my solo treks around the river...perfectly content to do so.

Yesterday, Saturday, was perhaps one of the most beautiful days London has seen in my months time. The weather was mild and the breeze blew gently, the sun shone brilliantly and sitting on a bench under its blaze felt toasty. The sky was incredibly blue with only wisps of white clouds and there was an energy and vibrancy to the day. I spent all the sunlight hours outside - walking around the city and the park, and reading. I finished one of the best books I've picked up in a long time - a true classic -Charlotte Bronte's "Jane Eyre" - published here in London in 1847. One of the most captivating literary fictional characters I've journeyed with. She has such character, such spirit...she traversed through the hallows of life - through the depths of despair and wretchedness, to the summit of joy and eternal bliss - a crusader of moral virtue and a disciple of her own will. Self-sacrificing, proud, and vigilant - obedient and generous, awed by beauty, irrevocably altered by the fortune of kindness. She bore witness to pain and suffering of her own hand and yet offered her soul to a higher power and belief of deliverance. She followed her heart and trusted her head - she was incredibly compelling - she was Jane Eyre. I can't stop thinking about her and her journey. That's the way a story is meant to be shared - it's meant to be lived and felt and struggled with.

Friday was a simple day of writing and walking and reading- my standard practices. And although they may appear somewhat mundane and unable to generate much lively inspiration or spontaneous action, I must say - they are the very things which contentment and happiness rest in. This weekend has also been wonderful for talking with family and friends. Must remember to thank the people who created Skype (when I meet them of course) for giving the gift of communication. It is incredible to be thousands of miles away and yet to feel as if I'm sharing the day with those I love.

And so a new day is dawning for you all back home, Sunday morning is greeting you - perhaps you are just waking or yet still dreaming. I am getting ready to spend the afternoon in Balham with friends and a lively game of football. I am aware of the irony that it's Sunday and I'm watching football (as many of you may be) - and yet it's not actually "football" - it's soccer. Manchester United is playing - it is a big game...the pints will be flowing, the yelling and waring will be raging, the bets waging, and I will be highly entertained.

Tooting Bec

Thursday - 1/28/10

I can scarcely believe it's been a month since my arrival. Time moves intermittently both fast and slow - giving the illusion that one has more than enough time and yet inspiring concern for it to be done too quickly. A fantastic month it has been. One of the greatest parts has been to meet a few people and to form some acquaintances. And that is how I passed my Thursday in Tooting Bec - getting to know one of my new acquaintances. South of London by about 30 minutes on the tube, Tooting Bec is still quite busy but less exciting than the city - a quaint place with local bars and restaurants. Spent the day with one of my fellow bowling buddies from two weeks past and learned about the trials of an acting career. Frequented a cafe for tea, an italian restaurant for pizza, and spent some time watching Pride and Prejudice. I spent the evening at Bar Viva - their local haunt - and witnessed my first passionate football game. To say that the British are in love with their football seems a gross understatement. They are passionate and loud, and fierce in their loyalty, ready to scorn others, to shout against ridicule, to bare their teeth at opposition...oh the hostility engendered is unbelievable...and quite amusing.

Also amusing was my tube ride back into the city - only the interesting and highly entertaining appear to ride the late hours. I might have thought my fellow riders were going to a costume party, the outfits and face paint appropriate - yet I was mistaken. After obliging a young girl, in a silver leotard with platinum hair and red scarlet lips, to take a picture of her and her friends hanging from the railing in the tube like monkeys, she informed me that they were headed to Leicester Square for some fun. Fun it seems, had already begun many hours before and was to continue into the wee hours of the night!

Manor House

Wednesday - 1/27/10

I explored a new part of London today - quite a ways outside of Zone 1. I took the tube to Zone 3 - to Manor House tube stop where I went to view a flat. It was decidedly not for me and much advised to be only in the future suitable to persons who wish to live in the haze of years of stale smoke. I did not regret my trek to the place unknown, rather it was exciting to be outside the walls of the city. There happened to be a castle, dominating a city square, in the midst of the residential street - called Fleming Castle. How entirely unbelievable it is to gaze upon a bus-stop in one look, and in the next sweep of the eye, to see a centuries old castle, intact and undisturbed, occupying residence of a town, as if it were a grocery store or police station. The contrasts of old and new are everywhere.

Once back in the city, I was walking down Piccadilly street, a bit like a leaf blown about by the winds and disoriented in the swirling masses of people. I was jostled here and there, my step not quick enough for the impatience of the business-focused. Until I came to stop in front of a large store-window. I had passed this beacon many times and had never seen it before...Waterstone's. The columns stood tall and the flags waved exuberantly, a fortress of stone, a haven for the unenlightened - it was....a bookstore! Ha! And an incredible one at that. Five luxurious stories of books, row upon row of scintillating titles and creative words. I walked in my gleeful stupor, touching every book atop the tables, running my hand over the glossy covers, stopping randomly to pick one up and turn it over. I was consumed by sheer delight. Authors I'd never heard before, books I'd never seen - tables of tales that beckoned to entrance one on an entertaining journey. I could actually feel my spine tingle. The pulsing in my veins was energizing...I was held quite captive in this wonderful place.

I eventually made my way to the 6th floor where the 5th View (restaurant, bar, and lounge) is located. I enjoyed a delicious lunch seated by the window - overlooking the rooftops and into the distance over London. It was brilliant. As was my roasted red pepper soup and ploughman's salad. Being so content in this space, I even enjoyed dessert (lemon tart) and tea.

After convincing myself to leave, knowing a return is inevitable, I walked into Fortnum and Mason's - the Queen's appointed place of shopping. This place has quite a history and its elegance is unsurpassed in any other store. Ornate chandeliers, plush carpets, decorative wall coverings...quality is the order of the day. I watched the royal servant-like workers weigh tea to be purchased and stack cakes in glass containers - aside from the many floors of material goods, they also have a confectionary/shop to buys sweets and teas.

I attempted to gain entrance to the Royal Academy of Arts, the current exhibit is Van Gogh - but it was quite crowded and an hour wait in the queue did not excite me...left for another day. I will look forward to seeing it.

The Royal Albert

Tuesday - 1/26/10
I had every intention of seeing the Victoria and Albert Museum - up until I realized I wasn't at the V&A - not even close. I walked through Hyde Park a different way today - towards Kensington Palace, passed the Peter Pan statue and various monuments, and around Round Pond. This little jaunt was extremely entertaining as an entirely new aviary was discovered with an impossibly larger population of birds and ducks, swans, and geese than inhabit the Serpentine. Shocking. The sun was shining, the geese were squawking, and the wind was brisk. I made my way towards the dome of what I thought was the V&A. - The V&A, by the way, is the museum of decorative arts (makes Martha Stewart types very very happy). They have one of the biggest, most eclectic collections of objects - anywhere.

Turns out the beacon I was following was really the Royal Albert Hall. This place is a great piece of architecture, it's a circular building with a domed ceiling, massively proportioned, and ornately decorated. (There is currently a Cirque du Soleil show playing there). Directly across from the Hall is the Albert Memorial. This is something to behold. The steeple rises so high into the air, you have to hold your head to look at it. It has gilded decoration, lavish and intricate carvings, and is so ornate it would be tacky if not for its heritage. It's Prince Albert - sitting on a throne, looking at his Royal Hall. Albert was Queen Victoria's husband, in case you were wondering what the fuss was about.

Anyway - disillusioned and hungry, I braved the raging winds to get to the Serpentine Bar & Grill. I had a wood-oven pizza with spinach and olives and tomatoes. Delicious. I watched the sun set over the river and the daylight make way for the dusk. The people were few and my walk back was leisurely. I decided that although headed for the V&A museum, I had a decent detour and will try again another day.

Living with Intention

Somethings you don't know are lost, until you find them. And the inescapable relief and ground-breaking comprehension startles you, because you never knew before that moment, how blessed you were.

I had a great day today that was void of spectacular new adventures out in the world, but complete in earth shattering perspectives inside. My daily walk felt blissful today. I found a boutique with two cards that caught my eye - perfectly attuned to the truths that had been whirling around my mind.

Live With Intention -
walk to the edge.
dare. listen hard.
practice wellness. laugh.
continue to learn.
play with abandon.
appreciate your friends.
do what you love.
live as if this is all there is.

She Lives -
she dances. she sings. she takes, she gives. she serves. she loves and creates.
she dissents. she enlivens. she sees. she grows. she sweats. she changes.
she learns. she laughs. she sheds her skin. she bleeds on the pages of her days.
she walks through walls. she lives with intention.

Cheers to living with intention...and to feeling grateful that I have the opportunity to do so.

I Need a Kip, I'm Knackered...

Leaves a lot to the imagination doesn't it...Well, I will quickly put your minds at ease, it means, "I need a nap, I'm tired." British slang is fantastic, don't you agree? I am feeling a bit tired, but nothing I can't handle. It seems that my mind is so inspired by the energy of London, it doesn't always want to turn off at night - nor do I want to put down my Kindle. Friday was a lovely grey, misty, drizzly sort of day where umbrellas were on parade and few people about. I thought Kensington Gardens especially beautiful in the rain, and I braved the weather. I did some writing for the majority of the afternoon/evening, and then headed back to the park for a twilight stroll - actually it was closer to midnight. I stayed close to the still bustling Park Lane and watched a throng of party-goers in Black Tie take a break outside "The Ballroom" - very high society.

Saturday held more promise in terms of the weather. I enjoyed a more relaxing jaunt through the city and a stop for groceries and a much-needed hair dryer. It's bright bubble-gum pink by the way. Saturday evening, I thought I'd try out the local pub, The Sussex Arms. It has as lively an atmosphere inside as outside, where the locals blend with the tourists (due to the many small hotels nearby). I was thoroughly entertained by a group of rowdy men from Manchester, getting loud with a small pack from Australia, who were teasing a reserved group from Sweden. I enjoyed my Strongbow and the nightly show.

Today has been a beautiful Sunday...the way Sundays were always meant to be but never knew how. The sun was shining. Speaker's Corner was jamming. The birds were everywhere. As well as the joggers and the dogs, and the people. And despite the cool temperature, people meandered. Art was showcased along the busy streets, vendors waiting to grab people going in or out of the park. Some of it was actually beautiful. Being thoroughly familiar with Hyde park, there's an area that doesn't garner much attention due to the season - The Rose Garden. This is a place that makes you feel like you're standing inside the walls of "The Secret Garden" - I imagine that the brilliance of it in the spring and summer months, is overwhelming. In the rose garden, the traditional English style prevails and there are a multitude of little pathways and circular hideaways that showcase a fountain in each center point. There are archways to walk under that are constructed of the braided vines of trees, and an arched tunnel that, in the summer, will shower down vines of roses to the guests of the garden below. It's a place filled with magic. And today - I found some in action. I was one of the few, walking these paths, and I happened across a solitary rose bush, already in bloom. It stood undisturbed in all its glory - in the middle of January, in the middle of the naked gardens, pink roses blossomed off of the prickly vines, as if in defiance, in rebellion - of the weather. Lovely.

I spent the lunch hour at The Serpentine Bar and Grill, which overlooks the river. I ate my lunch of pesto panini and spicy tomato soup, outside on the patio - in solidarity of defiance, with the rose bush. I then made my way to the Dorchester Hotel - on Park Lane. It is the crown jewel of hotels in London - its prestigious address overlooks Hyde Park, and it's guests include the famous of the silver screen. Only the best of the best stay here. I thought I'd get a glimpse. It's everything luxurious and lovely inside. Incredibly huge (6 foot) urns hold fresh flower art pieces that stand 5 feet into the air - today's theme was yellow, with roses and lilies galore. I enjoyed tea in their central tea room and watched for a glimpse of a celebrity. It was very cozy.

This evening held another new experience - I attended Evensong at St. James's Church in Sussex Gardens (two blocks from my flat). The church is old, built in the 1800's, by a well-known architect buried in Westminster Abbey. This is the church where Oscar Wilde was married 126 years ago. The stained-glass was lovely, the cathedral ceilings tall, and the stone floors worn and smooth. There were perhaps 15 people present for the evening service and a five-person choir sang the entire program. It was amazingly simple and beautiful, with two readings (from the bible) and another reading from a religious book about the lives of the apostles. The music was unbelievable - they sang 'a cappella" except when the pipe organ partook, and the acoustics were fantastic. It was like a personal concert. Although strictly traditional to the Church of England - "God Save the Queen" - it was delightful to be a part of the community for this evening.

Now dinnertime - another ethnic cuisine diversion. Tonight's exploration is Moroccan Tagine over rice. The ingredients profess chickpeas, aubergine, apricot, aromatic spices, tomatoes, and butternut squash. Hmmm... I'll make sure to save some chocolate for dessert, just in case. And, regardless - chocolate seems like a good end to a nice day.

The Rich and Famous & The Birds

Wednesday was a fun day with new adventures...

I got dressed up the way a true London girl should be - highly fashionable of course (complete with stylish yet comfortable heels), and I meandered through the ritzy lane of Bond Street. This is a must-see avenue. It's the Rodeo Drive of London. The streets are lined with flags of every excessively expensive store and boutique in the world. One can take her pick of any luxury stop along the way - Hermes, Burberry, Louis Vuitton, Ralph Lauren, Tiffany's, Gucci, Armani, Vivienne Westwood, Jimmy Choo, Michael Kors, Chopard, Cartier, Asprey, Prada, and even Sotheby's. They have assembled the best of the best on a narrow and crooked side street in the middle of London. Aside from the glittery windows of jewels and the mannequins wearing $20,000 wool coats, there is a lot more to be seen. People-watching is at its finest here, because camera-toting tourists mingle with high society. It was splendidly entertaining to watch women, young and old, strutting along the cobblestone in sky-high stilettos, carrying Louis Vuitton purses, and clutching bags from Prada and Michael Kors. Money can only be spent here in tremendous quantity and it happens every minute of each day. It was something to see. I am also quite positive that I shared the too-narrow sidewalk with a handful of very important and very wealthy, possible celebrities - although I didn't actually notice who they might be.

My new friend Julian happens to work amidst this posh haven at a very prestigious bank. And we enjoyed lunch at an Irish pub, Mulligan's, while we chatted about the lives of the rich and famous. Turns out that an Irish Pub might not be the place to eat if you're a vegetarian - just a warning. He, unfortunately had to spend his afternoon pushing around paperwork but I took advantage of the rain sprinkles to pop into shops and browse the goods.

Today - Thursday - was a beautiful day. Although colder than necessary for London climate, the sun was shining. Unbelievably, the swan population of the Serpentine has exploded in a day's time. Today's walk found more than 12 white swans gliding through the waters and in the fountain pools of the park. They are incredibly graceful and beautiful creatures. And yet somehow extremely terrifying animals when a child with a piece of bread gets too close. The scene brought back a memory from my childhood of feeding the geese at Menomonie Park - when I had been happily feeding only a handful of geese until suddenly the entire park's population of geese heard the silent thud of bread dropping on grass and came rushing to my spot. There is something horribly frightening about too many birds, of any size, coming for you...

And as I walked past the bread-crazed swan and the crying girl, I chuckled with my own memory, thankful it wasn't me. That is, until I became involved in my own Hitchcock-esq horror show. Unbeknownst to me, a generous women with ill-timing, was opening a bag of stale bread at exactly the moment that I was walking through a cluster of calm birds, ducks, geese, and gulls. It all happened in slow motion. I heard the bag crinkling behind me and saw one gull dart into the air, far too close to my head, and then it unleashed...they all took flight to get to their feast and I happened to be standing in the middle of the pack. Birds of too many sizes were flying at my head, wings beating too close to my ears, squawking and shrieking melodies coming from all directions, the dizzying sight of at least 50+ birds swarming...completely dreadful. My heart was beating an unsteady rhythm and I was ducking and running and shrieking my own unhappy song. After I found my way out of the bird attack, I stood still and let my breathing return to normal - and noticed that I had become a celebrity. Indeed, it was like the paparazzi - at least 20 tourists stood snapping photos and filming my near-brush with death-by-bird. I am not currently training for a marathon, but if I was, my sprint down the path and out of sight would have been clocked my best time yet.

Thankfully, this evening has produced less excitement and a wonderful Mediterranean dinner prepared in my little kitchenette, of a pita filled with falafel, hummus, grilled peppers, artichokes, and sundried tomatoes...delicious. And even better was the pre-dinner caramel latte and almond-chocolate croissant I had on my way home from the park. There's nothing better than a stop at Caffe Nero to help you forget The Birds.