Monthly Archives: June 2014

drawing to a close

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The first truly bad weather we’ve experienced this entire trip has given us an excellent excuse to do absolutely nothing today. I feel a little guilty, given that we only have two full days of London left before we leave for home on Tuesday, but we’re kind of exhausted and desperately needed the rest. Tomorrow we’ll be back to our usual routine of DO ALL THE THINGS, but today .. well, couch. And bed, and football, and pizza.

I love London and everything about it, but I really miss my cats. We’re both looking forward to going home – this is the longest we’ve ever been away, and I think I drastically underestimated just how long 22 days really is. That being said, we’ve had an amazing time. We’ve done almost everything on the London List, and will likely bang out all but two (a cemetery, and Camden Town – I’m just too tired and broke) in the next couple days. We come home on Canada Day, which is fitting. I will miss London – I’ve been trying very hard not to look at these last few days as “the last time I’ll lounge at the V&A, the last time I’ll be able to find a Pret 15 feet in any direction, the last time I can reach out and touch the Tower Bridge and lick Big Ben (even if they’d really rather I didn’t)”, etc. It’s still a goal of mine to live in London someday, and since I didn’t crumple into dust on my birthday, it could happen.

But first – Paris! We had three days to explore the city, and that’s just what we did. It was Ed’s first time there, with my being a seasoned Paris vet with almost 9 full hours under my belt. We did traditional tourist things, because of the aforementioned first time – the Eiffel Tower (which almost killed Ed because heatstroke), the Louvre (which almost killed everyone in our vicinity because crowd rage), the Notre Dame, and a day of random wandering during which we accidentally found the Persian sex district. We made great use of the bus tour tickets I bought, and braved the Metro multiple times to get around. It was a busy trip within a trip, but we made the most of our time there. It’s interesting, though – even with more time to soak in all (well, more) of what Paris has to offer, I find that my initial thoughts on the city still hold true: Paris is just not for me. I’m super glad I got to experience it not once but twice, and with Ed this time (who, ironically, feels exactly the same way about the city as I do), but to me, it’s no London. Which I love. Have I mentioned that?

I’ve been taking pictures the whole time we’ve been here (except for today, because I haven’t gone outside), but I don’t know where to put them. I didn’t renew my Pro Flickr account, and I don’t know where kids these days are putting their photos .. any ideas?

So, more coming later. Right now there is pizza to eat, and Canada to cheer on in the World Cup. GO SPORTS!

paris opéra

paris opéra

some sorta big tower dealie

some sorta big tower dealie

london built in brick, paris built in stone

london built in brick, paris built in stone

the angel of selfies

the angel of selfies

penis.

penis.

hello from paris

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I fully intended on writing every day (or at least every other day) while on vacation, but then I kept having fun and was exhausted all the time and Heather and Renee were here and it was my birthday and .. well, I forgot. And was too tired. And now Ed and I are in Paris with spotty internet, so don’t hold your breath.

I do promise many pictures and stories soon, along with the dreaded cop-out “my vacation in numbers” post .. but that’ll have to wait: I am going to sleep and tomorrow I will explore Paris for more than the 8 hours H, R, and I had in 2011.

To make up for my absences, here are some things that are hilarious because I am 9 years old at heart:

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london: new vancouver

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We’re staying in an area of London that is both new-ish, and new to us. It’s a little further from Central London than our previous visits, and it feels very much like home. Seriously, tell me if this doesn’t look like False Creek and BC Place:

all aboard the mount pleasant gondola

Most of the buildings in the area are new, and built of concrete and glass. It’s not necessarily a bad thing, but .. it feels like home. Specifically, Vancouver home. When I visit London, I want it to feel like UK-home: history and wainscotting and ridiculously ornate buildings fit for nobility but are actually a corner grocer and torture chambers and and and. The last place we stayed was right next to the University of London, with all the accompanying Britishness you might expect – but the flat was tiny and uncomfortable for the two of us, and wouldn’t work for the four of us this time around. I did a ton of research before selecting where we are now, but didn’t really look into how London the area felt. It’s not a big deal – as Ed says, we traded charm for comfort – but something feels off about the area, and I think that’s what it is.

But! It’s where we sleep and store our underwear, so it’s all good. We’ve settled in, and have worn ourselves out running all over town exploring new things and revisiting old favourites. Our adventures on Tuesday took us to Canary Wharf for SIM Cards and an accidental high end car show: we made our way through Maseratis and Bentleys and Land Rovers on our unintentional romp through London’s financial district, and once we were fully equipped with internet, I took Ed to Buckingham Palace because it is shiny. We wandered through various Parks, stopping to rest our feet and people watch. Everyone was very fancy – Tuesday was Prince Phillip’s birthday, and some sort of party was happening at the Palace. Hundreds of people were queued up to get in, and everyone was dressed to at least the 8s – top hats and tails on the men, and the FANCIEST HATS on the ladies. St. James’s Park has a huge collection of interesting birds, and I spent a long time looking at baby ducks and geese and swans and this fat squirrel:

it’s hobbes, in squirrel form

We spent some time laying on the grass, then made our way back to home base for sleepings.

On Wednesday, we decided to hop the gondola to London Bridge and walk for a million miles (or 17000 FitBit steps) – all along the South Bank, over multiple bridges, and past my new favourite places in London:

adorable shops in gabriel’s wharf

more 'ffiti

south bank skate park

south bank skate park

more ‘ffiti

The Skate Park was *covered* in graffiti, and was wonderful – I could have spent hours in there (but didn’t, because I killed my camera battery). More South Bank will happen later, as I think it’s my happy place .. so much to do and see and walk and also this old thing:

big ben at seven bong

big ben at seven bong

We wore ourselves the fuck out yesterday, so today was much less exciting: a trip to the mall (because it has the closest M&S that isn’t fucking invisible). We stocked up on groceries and desserts, and are simply resting up because the fun is about to begin: Heather and Renee will be here tomorrow, and then we’re off to Portobello Market and Brighton and Oxford and the V&A and castles and haunted pubs and bus tours and eeeeee!

My feet are gonna hurt so much.

and and and

london: getting here

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Logistically, the flight was amazing. I never thought I’d be one of those people who opt to pay a little more for a decent flight (and I mean little – it worked out that the best possible times for our flights were also the cheapest), but after experiencing Discount London Airlines two years ago, I’ve gladly jumped at the chance to fork over more cash in exchange for budget luxury. We’ve flown to London twice now via Virgin Atlantic, and both times it was great with this trip in particular being extra great:

  • The flight was far from sold out, meaning we were able to snag an empty row of three seats of Ed to crash out on (take THAT, guy who tried to reserve an entire row for himself via throwing his iPad onto the seat only to have the sky waitress instead give the row to the 8.75 month pregnant lady two rows ahead of me)
  • USB PORTS IN THE SEAT BACK my phone was never less than 80% charged all flight and it was heavenly
  • Wifi was available, but for £14.99 ($28CDN) the Instagram pictures of my dinner could wait until we were on the ground
  • Speaking of dinner, it was quite good and served as soon as we were in the air, so no weird smells were being carted down the aisle while we were trying to get some sleep
  • Free entertainment on demand – tons of movies and TV shows, and a small selection of video games that were all free to view/play
  • Alcohol for some reason! Ed opted to try self-medicating with cognac and wine with dinner, and it was both complimentary AND complementary
  • Tons of leg room! Even with our extra bucks we still flew super cheapo economy style, but there was ample amounts of leg room for me to flail around in
  • No babies! While we were checking in, a family with three screaming children were in line next to us and brought on all the trepidation – boy was I relieved when I snuck a look at their boarding passes and realized they were flying to Germany
  • Free socks! You get a little care package on Virgin flights that contain a sleep mask, earplugs, a toothbrush and tiny toothpaste, a pen, and socks. These were very helpful, because I actually lost my socks on the flight (don’t ask) so I was able to put on fresh socks for the rest of the journey

There was very little turbulence on the flight, and we landed in London at 2:45pm local time. We were so early that we had to take the scenic route in:

the rolling fields of england!
my bridge is down there
thanks for flyover of where we’re staying!
curvy thames goodness

Unfortunately, even with all the extra space on our flight, I couldn’t sleep at all. I had just enough room to myself to be awkward – I couldn’t lay down without contorting my legs Cirque-style, and I flopped about restlessly when sitting upright. I was too hot, then too cold, and my underwear was giving me an atomic wedgie. Even after I threw decency and caution to the wind and allowed my nethers to be exposed to anyone who dared peer at them in the darkness, I couldn’t catch any sleep .. so by the time we landed, I was a loopy mess. Luckily, I had some backwards foresight* into the situation, and had opted to go Balls Out Fancy by booking a car service to deliver us unto our AirBnB, so after a brief waiting period (before which we figuratively waltzed through Customs and our bags were coming ’round the bend when we pulled up to the carousel) we were in a car to take us to where a bed was waiting.

.. eventually. See, this was my first time actually driving across London and not just for a short cab ride – we literally went from West London to East London, cutting directly across the city. It took almost 2 hours to arrive, because London traffic is somewhat of a nightmare (and terrifying holy crap) .. but once we got in, we were golden.

The AirBnB I booked is nice and functional, and situated at the base of a gondola for some reason. I rented the whole place (other people scare me), and later this week, Heather and Renee are flying in from Vancouver to join us for a week so the extra room made sense (and also Ed has to work a bit while we’re here, whereas I am a shiftless bum with no job hahHAEHhaehEHA). Today is our first fully conscious day in London, and we have a small but essential list of errands: get UK sim cards for our phones, explore the area, and officially start our London adventure.

EXCITED. If you want to follow along, I’m tagging all our photos and Tweets with #ekuk2!

*: Ed rarely sleeps on flights, and can be somewhat cranky and incoherent without sleep .. so instead of dragging him through London via public transit with all our bags, I ordered a car. This was somewhat flipped, because I was the one incapable of stringing a sentence together and really needed to not rely on my brain to get me all the way across London – but either way, it was a good decision and only slightly more than taking the Heathrow Express halfway to our destination and hoofing it with three transfers the rest of the way.

what is this "share" you speak of? i don't care if barry and josh are on here, get your own damn diet coke

what is this “share” you speak of? i don’t care if barry and josh are on here, get your own damn diet coke

#bhangralove

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While waiting for Ed to finish getting his hairs cut, I accidentally stumbled upon a Bhangra Festival:

I originally had grand plans to go buy makeup, but I found myself utterly entranced by the colours and music. I ended up inching my way closer to the stage for a better look, eventually getting clear view of the action (save for the guy standing in front of me dancing along and waving his arms in my face). It was so cool! Can’t really go wrong with dancing men in bright colours .. which brings me to my point: I would like to file a complaint against my heritage for not having bright shiny dance times. As far as I can tell, there is nothing about being a half-Malaysian half-Canadian-Euro-Mutt that allows me to bounce around in glorious silken robes festooned with sequins and jewels and that is NOT FAIR. Perhaps I need to invent some sort of movement that will allow me fantastic sequins and fun music (I think I will skip the Macklemore mix though). I am endlessly jealous of Bhangra dance, and wish Ed had more hair that needed to be cut so I could have watched some more. Alas, we had to leave all too quickly, and now I have nothing more than a bunch of Instagram photos and a yearning for spangled tunics.

Today was the finale of the Vancouver International Bhangra Celebration, but now that I know what the deal is, I will make plans to attend next year. MORE DANCING! AND SEQUINS!

Time for bed. Gotta go to London.

it’s so hard to say goodbye

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I’ve been largely ignoring the fact that this is my last week at work – all the preparations for the upcoming London trip took over, and I buried myself in logistics and making sure I’m taking enough low-cut dresses to offend the entire British Empire. However, yesterday afternoon it kind of hit me for the first time .. this is my last day. I’m leaving this afternoon, and I’m not coming back. It doesn’t seem real, even with all my desk toys and posters and endless Diet Coke cups gone. Everything has felt like regular vacation preparation: finalizing deliverables, handing off projects, sprinkling wisdom like candy giblets amongst the children of the corn .. but it’s not temporary, and I won’t be taking my work back when we return from London. This is it. This chapter is finished, and everyone will move on without me.

That’s probably the hardest part, too. I’m just egomaniacal enough to want my co-workers to throw their hands up in despair and wail at the thought of a future without me, but I know that is ridiculous. It’s been hard to let go, and harder to hear talk of my replacement(s), and hardest of all to hear plans on how they’re going to try and fix the things that are broken. I can’t help but be sad over that – if people had tried to fix things six months ago, I’d still be here. It sucks to hear all the effort to fix things NOW, but maybe I can take some small solace in being a catalyst for that change. I wasn’t just idly complaining, but seriously trying to fix things and being cockblocked at every turn until I had to give up the good fight for my own sanity, healthy, and happiness. Some days I feel like I took the easy way out, especially during weeks like this – it’s been quiet, fun, and productive at work. However, there’s a very pointed reason for the calm: the cause of all the problems (and the reason I quit) has been on vacation all week, and without his interference, we’re accomplishing things and doing great work. A vacation doesn’t last forever, though, and when he returns, I’d be just as badly off .. worse, in fact.

I don’t need to worry about it anymore, but it’ll take some time for my rage to subside. I didn’t WANT to quit. I loved this job. I am still angry about the gaslighting and abuse. That may never go away, but I am going to try to push it down the emotional ladder .. and three weeks in Europe will probably help. In fact, I’m sure of it.

Deep breath. I’m almost done. Time to remember all the good – like the amazing people I’m leaving behind, who made me in Lego form:

accurate down to the tattoos and diet coke (they told me they weren't able to make the cleavage bigger) :D

accurate right down to the tattoos and diet coke (there are limits to the amount of cleavage lego can have) :D