streetcar desired
In London owning a car is not the easiest thing.
Perhaps people in London have adapted to not having backyards by letting their dogs sleep inside, but cars are not as easily kept in the spare room.
Finding parking near our place is enough of a reason to never get a car.
Then there is traffic and the congestion charge, to cars I say, thanks, but no thanks.
But London is a resourceful city, and here there is a service called streetcar. For a fee of under a hundred quid and at a rate of 6 quid an hour you can pick up a car on almost every street corner of inner London.
You can then drive this car to ikea, if you need a desk chair and can’t afford to go to a real place, then you can drive back home a few hours later with your cheap chair with little hassle or price.
That my friends, is genius.
Within a ten minute walk of our house there is like 6 cars we can hire, so if you need to get somewhere that is impossible to deal with via public transport, or you need to carry something, you just whip out the six quid an hour and off you go.
It is almost as good as the bike thing in paris, the Vélib’.
Except you can’t stop for quick burgers on the way home.
There was also a present in the last car i rented, it had a tiny soccer ball that some kid have left, which is now mine.
oak st
This has nothing to do with London, but it is aussie as.
I doubt 50% of Australians could spell eucalyptus either.
But it is still funny to hear an American puss out.
John Terry is a bastard
Until a few days ago if someone asked if I knew who John Terry was I would have said, “is he a Tory who got caught shagging cats”. My next guess would have been a footballer.
He is a footballer, and from what I can gather he did something people don’t like.
I am doing my best not to find out.
What really annoys me is that at my tube station people are always going through the exit to get to the platform, so that when you are leaving the station there are always people almost bumping into you as they run for the train you have just got off.
There is entry tunnel right next door, it is no quicker going through the exit tunnel, and you won’t bump into anyone.
But people are fucking useless motherfuckers, and instead of thinking they just run around bumping into people.
How can I hate John Terry and his potential car fucking ways when i have such hardship in my life?
Dogs; inside or outside
Recently the wife and I have been discussing one day getting a dog.
She doesn’t want a dog, like the rest of England she is obsessed with cats, so much so that I have finally caved in and decided to allow her one (and only one) kitten, but only with the proviso that I can get a dog when we get a house.
It must be said that she was not overly happy, but the cat news made her excited enough to agree.
Her only dog rule is that the dog must have a neat face. This obviously makes no sense, so i agreed to it.
Then we were discussing the everyday problems that having pets would involve, and she talked about how it might come on the couch.
I was confused, as how would the dog get inside to even get on the couch.
She said, “dogs live inside”.
And there it was, another cultural difference.
In Australia (and now I have found out Sri Lanka) dogs are outside animals, but in England, regardless of backyard space, they are inside animals.
I understand the basic difference, the temperature, but even so, why would anyone keep a dog inside?
Sure give them a warm place to sleep, the garage, an insulated kennel, or a doggy door to the laundry, but they don’t come inside, certainly not when you aren’t there.
That is madness.
Dogs are outdoor animals, they have fur, they like to chase things, they piss on trees and grass, why would they live indoors if you had the space?
A dog isn’t like a cat, they take up space, they stink a little, they like to roll in dirt, they much on their own shit and bark at the moon.
Outdoors is their place.
Even if they have a neat face.
Will the cultural differences never end?
am i crazy, or aware
Recently on one of my trips to the park to “jog” I saw a squirrel.
Without wanting to alarm you, this happens quite often.
This day I was just leaving the park from my gruelling work out, and this fucking monstrous squirrel crosses in front of me.
And it stops, about 2 metres from me also about the same distance from another guy.
The other guy keeps walking, but I stop, the squirrel then darts off the foot path and I walk off.
As the dude passes I give him the look of, well done, you survived that, and I nod to the squirrel.
And this guy just looks at me weird, like I am some nutcase in parks who nods for no reasons.
What is wrong with people, first he tempts fate with the squirrel, and then he thinks I am the crazy one.
What a fucken weirdo.
I am sure the squirrel would agree with me on that.
jogging in london
That is what I have started doing.
Now my knee seems to be all in one piece, and the cricket season is nearly upon me, I have started to get fit.
Not much.
Just a little.
But I haven’t done any fitness work for 9 months because of my knee, so I am literally jogging in baby steps. If that is possible.
London is not an easy place to jog in.
Their aren’t many parks, and the ones they have are taken up with dogshit from all the people who own dogs in flats.
If you want to run on grass it is even harder.
I can either run at the local cricket or football ovals, in either case I have to run past the drug dealers who rarely smile.
Even if I choose to run in the local park, which isn’t completely grassed, it is usually wet from the rain. The weird thing about London rain is I hardly ever see it, but when I am out everything is always wet. It’s like it only rains when you aren’t looking.
Now perhaps if I had some sort of shoe that had any kind of friction to it or was waterproof, I could take on the mud paths, but I have neither.
To me, London is not a jog friendly city.
I could be wrong, or just looking at excuses to stop.
Soon I need to find a new fitness regime to immerse myself in.
Pilates and Capoeira are possibilities.
Or I could just chase squirrels.
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