Saturday, September 18, 2004

Life's Surrealism

it's an unfamiliar sense of surrealism that engulfed me when i realised that the plane had landed, ever so safely, at Heathrow airport: the same airport that had welcomed me just 3 months ago. and all around, even on my tube journey to Canary Wharf this feeling still latched on like a woodpecker to a tree. like Ealing, Hammersmith, people stiffing their upper lips ever so refinedly and that fall weather that is all alien to me, that cotton still works and wool too hot. it's perfect, albeit the wind chilled me somewhat but never too badly.

the flight was tolerable i suppose. food was conceptualised by gordon ramsay of London (i chose that word cos i hardly thinks that he manually prepared ALL the bloody meal sets for everyone), managed to chat up two people next to me and service was great, considering i knew one of the stewards and he presented me with a pass that had me zoom past the immigration lines faster than the Russians can say 'nyet'. well nearly there. and the tube ride was absolutely sufferable, if it was summer and the train was choked with humidity and stenches of overworked sweat glands then it would be an entirely different story.

i'm getting used to the fact that i'm in London now. and then moving along to another part of Europe. i'm grateful mainly and contended with what i'm blessed with.

but suckers ya all..haha. I AM in london.

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

u lucky lucky thing......!!!! ;)

eth said...

hmm, who's this? do leave a name so that i can direct my gloat more emphatically.*grin*

Anonymous said...

its the babe from oz...... ;)