Since I last wrote the winter here in England has really started to set in. To celebrate, the English seemed to have gone firework crazy. Every night for the last month the suburbs have echoed and been lit up during the evenings with fireworks from every direction you look into. Unlike in Australia where we have to drive to Canberra to get our hands on these big boys' toys, they are widely available here in corner stores. This all lead to build up to a strange English ritual called "Bonfire Night" the other night when everyone crowds together to enjoy massive fireworks displays and big bon fires all over London, leaving the city and suburbs in a thick smoky haze the next morning.
A few weeks ago, when I was coming in to land from my weekend away in Prague I could see fireworks all over London from the plane which was quite an amazing site. The weekend away in Prague was interesting and almost didn't happen. A week earlier, in true Daniel style, I had lost my wallet on a London. I withdrew some money over-the-counter at a bank branch to cover me until I would receive replacement cards but stupidly on the Friday afternoon that I was flying out I left all the cash I had at the my client's office in Guildford, Surrey, as I headed to London Gatwick Airport. Half way between Guildford and Gatwick, the train that I was on stopped in some small town and wouldn't continue because a lorry (English for truck) had wedged itself under a bridge up ahead and the train line was closed until they could remove it and certify the bridge safe. I started getting worried as I knew JetStar-style-cheapo-airline EasyJet closed check in strictly 30min before scheduled departure. I knew I had to get a taxi the rest of the way but others people from the train were fighting to get one of the few available taxis in the town. This is when I also realised I had no money what-so-ever to pay for a taxi to get to the airport. This is when panic started to set in, but luckily for me I managed to team up with 3 random strangers to split a cab which we somehow managed to get, and one of the strangers, a trainee Catholic priest, agreed to cover my share. I managed to get the plane in time, and make it to Prague for a nice weekend of carefully budgeted small spending of some Czech Koruny I managed to borrow from my aunt over there.
While in Prague I ventured into the suburbs and found the house I lived in up when I was 5 years old, and visited my neighbours across the road. They had some difficulty in recognising me, but that was a nice trip down memory lane (or Severovichodni V street to be exact).
Back here in London I've been learning to cope with the cold weather which everyone assures me will get much colder. As opposed to winter in Australia, which is just bothersome, there is something romantic about the winter in Europe. The cold seems to go nicely with the feeling of the place, and the people rug up really elegantly.
But the countdown to my return to warm weather in Oz in January has now begun. I am looking forward to having proper Aussie (Melburnian style) fish & chips when I get home. The English version of fish & chips is battered cod with chips and peas (with no flake, potato cakes or dim sims in sight, or even defined in the dialect for that matter).
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