Thursday, June 26, 2008

london volume 1: Jetlag

The first of at least a few sporadic updates on my travels. Im in Vauxhall at Neils place, after wandering around London for the last 2 days trying to tell myself that jetlag was an urban myth.
Its not an urban myth, it makes you a space cake and all the senses are dulled and sharpened. Its like being super tired but more disorientated and incapable of thought.
The flight was a bit hellish. My layover after 14 hours in Abu Dubai was not a good idea. It was 31 degrees at 1am and i landed with a trash n treasure hoodie with 2 giant pictures of a cat holding a machine gun and a backpack full of queerzines. Normally Im really good at killing time, but this time, time was killing me.
The united Arab Emirates was on a super high warning of terror (or terror warning, whatever). They were frisking old English hippes as we got onto the plane for the final leg. The plane was full of very non-asleep kids. This was at 7am-ish Sydneytime after my flight left Syd at 3pm. The sun started to come up, and i think the plane was racing it. I was so delerious by then, and need something/someone to lean on. Asile seat=bad idea. The touchscreen on the back of the seat in front was good, but the movies had been censored. There was a camera feed from the nose of the plane so you could watch the plane land. Awesome...unless you were a bad flyer I guess. The food was all halal, so no bacon. It was weird, a meal every 3 hours. Airline food is always in its own category. I ate things I couldnt identify...
So I finally landed in Heathrow at 7.30am and it took an hour + to get through passport control. There were 12 agents dealing with 1200 or so people. The one I got was cute but a hard edged narky dude. 'What are you going to do here' 'Show me your return ticket'. Oh well... I finally went to collect my bag and went through the nothing to declare gate to...nothing. There was no customs staff at all. I could have had a live calf with mad cow in my bag. So then I wandered into the tube and got a train to Brixton where I met up with Rob. We had many coffees and caught up, then a few pints. I saw a bobby and wanted to do the da-da-duh (theme music from the Bill) and say you're nicked! but restrained myself, then went to Vauxhall where Im staying with Neil. Hes got a cute little flat and funny housemates.
By now I was pretty fucked, I mean travelling across numerous timezones, regions, for the better part of 34 hours. But Bar Wotever was on, a weekly open decks open stage night at a pub/club called Central Station (www.woteverworld.com). I met some very nice people and played shocking pool with Neil and Rob. But when I saw the band setting up I knew I had to go. We got a double-decker red bus back to Vauxhall and I crashed.
Next morning/afternoon I went looking for a powerpoint adaptor and an internet cafe and stumbled around Soho and Oxford St for a while. My phone was dead and I was realising how much jetlag can do to you. Seeing the sun come up twice in 4 hours will fuck up your reality I guess. So I went browsing and had a pint at the Admiral Duncan on Old Compton St (Oxford St with personality). I saw some amazing graffiti and cool Banksy merch, but restrained myself.
Tonight Im off too see Peaches DJ at a silent disco and some queercore fundraiser at a squat somewhere in uh, somewhere. Tomorrow theres some Morrissey festival...Presets in a week or so.
But now Im going to cook a pie for Neils house and get some sun. Its sunny until 9.30pm.
Freaky country hey?
Lotsa love,
Chris

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