A Whirl of Activity

So Monday morning I knew that I had to be up and out of the house pretty quickly. Stopped to go through my usual internet checklist, check my blog, check Rory's blog, give up on Rory's blog when I realise that he has crammed it full of photos that I am never going to have the time to download again, check James's blog, emails, feed the cat and out of the door. Then a dash to Victoria in Central London.

I like it around Victoria Station. It has a very unusual feel to it. Not only is the mainline station chockablock with commuters but the pavements are filled with people clickclacking their wheelie suitcases down to the bus terminal. Victoria Coach Station has been the start of many adventures for me since it is not just a National service but an international place too. I have started journeys to Ireland and the Netherlands from there as well as heading out to Felixstowe and the Lakes. The road between the train station and the coach station is lined with travel agents and there is a real feeling of people all hurrying everywhere to it. But the coach station itself is horrible, just horrible. It is small, crowded with inadequate seating and a 20p charge just to use the loo.

I was glad that I didn't have to wait there long before getting on the bus to Bristol. I had pushed myself into a window seat so that I could enjoy the countryside views. Just as we were about to leave an old hippy couple got on the bus and the man sat next to me. I only had a couple of seconds of thinking 'should I offer to swap seats with his wife so that they can sit together, nah, I was here first etc' before the woman started a conversation with the South African girl behind me. Now, I don't know what it is but somehow English speaking people seem to be much louder than Koreans on public transport. I would have been subjected to their whole conversation had I not fallen asleep soon after pulling out onto the road. So much for the country views.

I woke up two hours later on the outskirts of Bristol. Nice work. Bus travel as it should be. Cheryl picked me up in Bristol and took me back to her house in Thornbury. Spent the evening eating (another) Chinese takeaway, rich chocolate dessert and playing with Cheryl and Neil's new baby, Daniel. Daniel has been with us sinc January but to look at his parents you would believe that he has been part of their lives forever. It was a good night for a long overdue catch-up.

The next day, Cheryl drove me back through the country to Bristol since I had been complaining that you just don't see fields of cows or sheep in Korea. She took me through a couple of really pretty little villages and up a hill so that we could look down over the countryside and into Wales.

I stayed awake for the car ride but fell asleep for the entire journey back to London.

Once safely back in the capital I met my sister and went to the pub and then onto another pub to meet my mate, Matt, and his lovely girlfriend, Sonya, who joined us for a couple of drinks. Me and Matt, however, managed more than a couple and left as the pub was closing. Then something weird happened. There was engineering works on the line which WORKED IN MY FAVOUR! Wow, yes, extra trains had been diverted along the Purfleet line and I was able to catch a train that doesn't usually exist back to my destination. I felt a little like Harry Potter.

Woke up the next day with a slightly cloudy head but didn't have time to hang around since I had to go into Greenwich to meet Heather.

I used to live in Greenwich when I went to university, the slightly misleadingly named University of Greenwich which didn't, in fact, have a campus in Greenwich back then. Since I graduated it has moved from the office block above the Wimpy that I knew so well in Woolwich to the old Naval College in Greenwich proper.

It is now exceedingly posh and would have intimidated the hell out of me had I gone there. We had a good old wander around the campus, saw the Painted Gallery where Nelson's body laid in state before his funeral.

We saw a beautiful chapel that features in a Hogarth painting (so Heather tells me)

and a suit of armour that proved Henry VIII wasn't all talk.

We took a stroll through Greenwich Park up to Blackheath and back again.

Nearly got mugged by a grey squirrel looking for snacks and spent some time looking at the deer who seemed to be taking it in turns to get up and walk past us while having a shit. Nice. Bambi doesn't look so cute that close up.

Today I have been trying to sort some things out with an insurance company who kept me on hold longer than is reasonable. I should have them done under the human rights act or something, no-one should be made to listen to Enya for forty minutes. And, while I know that it is not Enya's fault, I do find that after the first twenty minutes or so I blame her for keeping me on hold. After the first thirty minutes I blame her for all the evil in the World. After forty minutes of the Orinoco Flow I give up hope of ever speaking to another human again and nearly cry when the operator answers.. only for them to tell me that I have to speak to a different department so they will have to put me on hold. Tears were shed. And the Enya sound track starts from scratch everytime they transfer me. EEEEEKKKK!!!!!!