Kicking off with a week in London

Obligatory Telephone Booth Selfie

My week in London.

What to say? I survived the week without freezing to death, or even any instances of hypothermia. The weather was also kind. Despite it hitting -1*C, there was very little rain to compound the matter. Wind chill was a different story. My goodness, the wind chill.

Making new friends, visiting old ones, some of whom I had not seen in thirteen years. It’s true that some people never change, and so much the better. You know you have a good thing going when you can almost instantly click back into your groove after over a decade apart. 

The ever-fabulous Miss Bec

Speaking of making new friends, I have decided to give myself a new name. From here on in, to anyone I meet, I shall be introducing myself as Charlie. No, this isn’t a giant middle finger to my parents. I love my name. However, this is a time of reinvention, and I figure a new nickname will help me be more cognisant of this - to be more aware of old behaviours and mentalities, and smack them down before they take hold. Confidence and courage. Grace. Less negativity (hello, new job). So if you see me on Facebook as Charlie, now you know why. Don’t worry, if you already know me as Scott, this doesn’t need to change. 

In other news, give me a clap - because I been a good boy, I has. Despite so many opportunities for warm savouries and pastries (made even more tempting by the weather), I’ve been well-behaved and kept my mouth (and wallet) shut. Although, an Argentinian restaurant barely 100m from where I was staying was by far the culinary highlight, including the best steak I have had in a long (long) time. 

Accompanied by a delicious Malbec, it was an evening well spent, celebrating the birthday of my delightful host, James, who also spent the week giving me an education on the world of whisky. I understand I get quizzed on these at the border. If I fail I’m refused entry or something. I just hope they don’t go through my luggage and find the box of English Breakfast tea I’m bringing with me.

A much-abbreviated selection from James' Whisky Shelf

Other points of interest from London include:

• Strolling down Edgware Road, which I’ve decided to call the street of a thousand pharmacies. No zoning requirements here it seems.
• A prominent African demographic (compared to Sydney) and a remarkably low Asian one. Not surprising based on the geographic, but certainly something I was struck by at first.
• Tubes. Tubes are cool. And regular. Expensive, but regular. And fast.
• Trains. Trains are fast. As I type this I’m onboard a passenger train to Scotland. We’d be going about 200-250km an hour I reckon. Beats the pants off Queensland’s Tilt Train, which maxes out at 160kmph.
• Bank accounts. Coming from overseas and wanting to set up a bank account? Just kill yourself before you start. The real obstacle is proof of address. I’ve realised that you’re better off setting up a bank account with an international bank (eg. HSBC) while you’re still in Australia. It’ll be yonks until I’ll have one.

As I sit here bound for Edinburgh, I admit I’m pretty terrified. An Airbnb will be my home until February, when the flat I hope to have locked in soon will be come available. 

As for a job, I’ve applied for plenty but heard back from none. And I’ve pretty much been struck off from working for Boots pharmacies for 12 months. I applied for a Pharmacy Assistant role, immediately got referred to an online questionnaire and personality test (45 pages of vague questions), and received an email the following day telling me I’d failed it. Not only that, but I wasn’t allowed to apply for a similar role with Boots for 12 months. The patronising email well made up for the fact that nobody had even spoken to me or likely even read my CV. If you want you have your professional pride wounded, get slapped in the face by a computer algorithm. It was a tragically accurate Little Britain “Computer says no…” moment.

That said, they could be dodging a bullet. Maybe I am a closet psychopath waiting to mutate into a swirling vortex of repressed rage and pestle violence. In the interests of full disclosure, I’d better warn my pending flatmate.

CG