Thoughts on homesickness

It's now been four weeks since i arrived in London. I contemplated this last night as i walked home from the tube station. And i wondered why it doesn't feel like a very long time.

I've been on shorter trips before where i've become very unhappy very quickly, and the time drags. I've always liked being at home, and the comfort that home brings, to the point of having hermit-ish tendancies if i'm feeling unsettled or insecure. But since being in London, i have waited for the inevitable pangs of homesickness which usually afflict me, the longing for the familiar, the irritability that comes with being away from home.... And it hasn't yet hit.

How can this be? I am someone who once as a child could not drag myself out of bed to go to school one morning while staying with neighbours while my parents were away. And this was not childish laziness or a dislike of school. And i was next door to my house! But i was not in my house, and although my siblings were with me, my parents were not. I remember i couldn't sleep in the unfamiliar room, and when my brother and sister headed to school, i couldn't stop crying and my neighbour stayed home with me all day while i lay in bed in a pit of misery. At seven years old, homesickness made me physically ill.

I've lived overseas before. It was a long time ago, and i was much younger. I spent fifteen months counting down the days until i could go home. I wrote letters and journal entries complaining of the unfamiliarity, of my longing to be at home in a place i knew, despairing over the minutiae of Australian life that i was missing out on - morning bird calls, radio ad jingles (this was before i discovered Triple J), the smell of roast lamb, the feel of Australian currency in my pocket, an Australian accent coming from a stranger in the street. Sure it was a third-world country and about as different from my own culture as possible at the time, but i absolutely loathed everything i saw that was different.

The last few overseas holidays i've taken have been enjoyable, but i spent much of the time away counting down the days till i would be home. Maybe i'm just lame and don't appreciate new places.

Even when i lived in Sydney in 2009-2010, i was in a constant pit of misery, existing from Canberra visit to Canberra visit. But my misery was due to other things - not just being away from home, but being away from home while i was miserable.

But then i thought, well, what is home?  What makes a home? I should know, i've had a few of them. Is it a state of mind? Was i just an angsty, over-sensitive child? A close-minded adult ill-prepared for travel?

Do i feel at home here because i've spent my life watching British TV shows and movies, so everything already looks vaguely familiar? Is it because it's really not very different from Australia anyway (really, it isn't), even down to the street signs and the buildings? Is it because my experience is much more broad now than it was when i was younger, so i can say "Well yeah, we don't have that at home, but i've heard of it before..." Is it because i don't feel the same strong sense of patriotism i felt when i lived in Vietnam, and i just don't want to stand up and say "Hey, this is different here! I don't like it! In Australia it's better!!" Is it because i no longer think that just because i've experienced something one way, that it should always be that way?

I'm not even walking into shops and turning up my nose at unfamiliar brands and items. Sure, i spend a long time peering at stock on shelves, trying to figure out what they are and if i'll like them, but i'm certainly not pining for things i've always seen in Woolies. And thanks to technology, i am still a part of the daily lives of my friends through Facebook and Skype, right down to the latest gossip and political news. I don't feel like i'm missing out, like i did when i was in Vietnam, and my letters from friends were all written a month (or more) earlier and our Australian newspapers and magazines were several weeks out of date.

I haven't been watching TV in Australia for the last couple of years, so i don't miss a familiar programming routine. I don't miss having a car... well, maybe i do a little bit... but i'd hate driving it here. I have a house with a bed and a few personal items in it, and now it feels like home.


I suppose now the concept of home is a lot more portable. As long as i have my laptop and my teddybear, i can go anywhere. I love my friends and family... but i don't really miss them. Or i do, when there's something special happening and i want to hug them, or when i talk to them on Skype and i realise how happy i am to see them... but it's not the constant longing i've felt before.

Either i'm growing up (teddybear notwithstanding), or becoming less angsty, or just more brave. I'm surprised at how ok i am.

Pictoral lols.

 Hehehe. I am giggling at silly things today.

I've seen pictures of things like this before, but i didn't think i'd see one myself in a grocery store on Walworth Road.


Hehehe. Cock.









Hehehe. "Red wine. I've never seen a wine actually called "Red Wine" before."


Selected by Tesco, though. You know it's gotta be good! I think this is the closest thing i've seen to a cleanskin here.

Hangin' with Cherie

I attempted to upload some photos here, as i'd wanted to make a blog entry about the fun i had spending time with Cherie last week. But it was taking too freaking long to upload the pics, and to tell the story of our touristy adventures without them was pointless.

So i've made a Facebook album and put them there, with exciting descriptions. You can view them here, although i'm pretty sure anyone following my blog is also my Facebook friend. But anyway. Enjoy!!

My New Home

Obviously world's worst blogger. Two weeks since last blog post. Think it was the unbearably long photo upload times the last time i did this. Might explore other photo options. Might just go back to photo-blogging on my Facebook albums like i always have. Hmm.

Anyway.

Let me tell you about my new home. Which, now that i've been here a week, feels like a home.

- I found this house because Anna's friend Ros (who met me at the airport and also hung out with Anna, Adam and i in Windsor) heard that a friend of hers, Pamela, was in sudden need of a new housemate when one of the girls who was living here decided to move out the week before the lease was due to be renewed. I viewed the house on Monday 7 November, and after waiting anxiously for a couple of days, they offered me the place. I moved in on Sunday 13th.

- I bought a blanket on my first night here and spent the first two nights wrapped in it as i slept, lying on an otherwise bare mattress. Did not get a chance to buy bedding until mid-week, but i bought sheets, a duvet, duvet cover, everything. Now i have a nice proper (and warm!) bed to sleep in. Although 100% cotton sheets are something of a luxury here... these polyester things are going to take some getting used to.

- Each day i have wandered to the shops and bought bits and pieces that i have needed. There are a few second-hand stores on Walworth Road, the main road around the corner. I got a bedside lamp for 2 pounds! I've bought random food items, a rack to hang stuff on the back of the door, bits and pieces.

- I finally got around to emptying my suitcase (which i'd been still living out of, although i'd hung a few items in the wardrobe) and putting it in the corner. I've put up the few display items that i brought with me, and printed out a bunch of photos to hang up. I created two photo displays out of string and tiny pegs (i purchased them as Christmas card display thingys, but fuck Christmas). Now i am surrounded by the smiling faces of my friends and family, which makes me happy.





- There's a lot of roadworks going on on my street and surrounding streets. There are signs up saying that the 100-year-old water pipes are being steadily replaced. 100 years old! Can you imagine! I wonder how old my house is.

- My bedroom is on the ground floor and has a door out to the backyard (instead of a window). There's another bedroom on the ground floor - the front room, formerly the living room, occupied by Daisy. The kitchen is also on the ground floor, spacious and modern. On the first floor are Pamela and Yasmine, plus a lovely refurbished bathroom. And above that is Sophie, who has the attic. They're all lovely, actresses and waitresses and hostesses, working different shifts so i actually don't see them often.

- Across the road from my place is what looks like an old pub, but it is not operating as such. Sigh. There's also a park. There's a market up the road that happens every weekend, and a primary school around the corner named after Robert Browning. I'm also a seven-minute walk from the Elephant and Castle tube station, and a ten-minute tube ride from the centre of London.





So there you go. That's my cool new house, and neighbourhood. Now i just need a job so i can afford to live here.

Hyde Park, y'all.

****Note: I wrote this entry yesterday (Tuesday), but the internet connection at the hostel was so bad that i spent SEVERAL HOURS uploading photos and i didn't even get them all done. So i finished this entry off this morning (Wednesday).***


Clearly I’m terrible at formatting blog entries with photos. But I do so love including photos. So today’s entry will be a photo blog, where I will post photos and tell the story of my day (Monday) through those photos. Roll photos please!

Actually, hold the photos for a sec, because I spent the whole morning applying for jobs. Around eight or nine in total, after updating my CV. I also facebooked and bludged for a while, and had a lovely surprise Skype chat with four fabulous friends (even though the news from home wasn’t all good...).

Headed out at about 3pm, and was surprised to find how dark it was at that time of afternoon. The cloud cover sure is thick. I decided to go see another London icon that I hadn’t yet visited – Hyde Park. I hopped off the tube at Hyde Park Corner and found this spectacular gate:

This is where I am (see red sticker):

I wandered up the hill to see this guy – a statue of Achilles, a tribute to the Duke of Wellington. Pretty impressive, as far as enormous naked dudes go. I’m not sure why he has a headless, limbless torso leaning against the back of his leg, though. Clearly need to revisit history study.

I saw another squirrel!!

The Broad Walk, in its autumnal splendour. So very photogenic.

I’d never seen so many autumn leaves in my life, and yes, I ran through them and kicked them. Because I’m cool.

This is The Joy Of Life fountain, and I’m sure it’s very nice when it’s got water in it. It’s on a path called “The Lovers Walk”, which I defiantly walked on alone.

This little guy looks like he wants to eat my soul, though.

Big red buses on Park Lane!!!

This is where I am now – near Mayfair. I’ve only been here a week and I’ve already seen SO MUCH of the Monopoly board!!

This is the Marble Arch. Apparently it used to be at an entrance to a courtyard at Buckingham Palace, but was moved to its current location in 1851. There was a lady feeding the pigeons underneath it, which I watched for several minutes. Damn flying rats, clambering over each other for a nibble of bread. It was getting quite dark by this time – it was about twenty past four.

Around the corner was Oxford Street, and I thought, Why not go look at that? The Christmas decorations were up, and I was dazzled by the pretty lights. They called to me with their sparkly siren-song. Also i could smell KFC.

I looked at the decorations in the windows of Mark & Spencer, and Selfridges, which were awesome but hard to photograph because the footpaths were very crowded. By this stage it was nearly 5pm, pretty dark, Oxford St was busy and it was very cold. I had an appointment I had to get to at 5.30, so I disappeared into the nearest Tube station.

On my way home I took a big red bus... Here’s me on it.

Sunday

Things about today that are not great (just to get them out of the way early):

- Anxiety dreams, from which I woke up in tears

- First day of actual coldness – although I’ve been wearing my coat since I arrived, today’s the first day I’ve buttoned it

Things about today that ARE great:

- Big red bus!! I travelled all over town on various buses, sitting on the top level at the front and sneering down at all the people on the street.

- - Went to see two rooms that are for rent – one in Tottenham, and one in Stoke Newington. So far the Tottenham one is my favourite, even though it’s further out of town

- On my way back from the house-viewings, I decided to detour rather than going straight home. I found myself down near the British Museum (I didn’t go in – I’m saving it for a colder day), looking at the ruins of an ancient Roman city wall. Apparently it lay hidden for centuries until the German bombing raids of WWII uncovered parts of it again. Thanks, Germany!

- Saw a squirrel! A very brave, friendly one, that ran right up to people and then wandered away when it saw they had no food.

- Visited St Paul’s Cathedral – bigger than I could have imagined, and I didn’t even go inside!! I was too distracted by the tent city set up by the “Occupy” movement. A diverse group of hippies, socialists and “anti-greed” protesters, waving placards, wearing Guy Fawkes masks and talking into microphones. I hung around for a while because it was quite a spectacle. They’ve gone to a lot of effort.

- -

- Watched a couple of boys skateboarding behind the cathedral.

- - Had nommy soup for lunch. Now I’m sleepy.

- My mum reminded me that it’s been a week since my farewell pancakes, and that made me a little teary this morning at breakfast. But I put those thoughts into my mind-vice and CRUSHED THEM. Because I’m awesome.

Tried multiple times to format this post properly, but it has decided to be all outsidey-of-the-margins, and i'm like whatever y'all. Hope you can still read it.

It's Early

It's quite early. I am the early bird. SQWAAARRK!!

I'm up early because my body clock has been telling me that 7pm is an excellent time to go to bed. It gets dark at 5, and then i start to wind down. Also, i've not had much to do in the evenings, so i get sleepy early. I could sit around listening to the other inmates speaking French and giggling, but i'm really not that interested. Does that make me a bad person? That i don't particularly feel like socialising here at the hostel? I've enjoyed my own company immensely and i don't want anyone else to encroach on that. I know that seems weird to some people but i've always been pretty keen on being alone, and approaching strangers is high on my list of scary things to do anyway.

So i am the solo weird girl in the corner.

Only one person has approached me, a friendly old guy from Ghana who struck up a conversation with me on my first day. He talked about himself a lot - he's had a pretty interesting life, he was a war correspondent for an English newspaper (The Guardian, i think) in Saigon during the Vietnam/American war; he met his wife in Canberra, while she was working for the government during the Whitlam era; he has photos of himself with the US Ambassador to the United Nations under Jimmy Carter, who was apparently a mate of his. (???!!!) What he's doing hanging around a backpacker hostel in Camden, i don't know. He told me i should marry his son (who's 21, hhmmmm wasn't i trying to aim for slightly older gentlemen?!), and he told me not to let anything get me down, or to cry about anything. This was not what i wanted to hear on my first day when i was feeling decidedly sorry for myself and constantly on the verge of tears. But anyway, he keeps saying hello, and telling me to come hang out with him - and i probably seem rude, but i'd rather hang out alone.

I went to the headquarters of my work programme yesterday for my induction. They have boards with adverts for jobs and sharehouses, so i got lots of information there. Going to apply for a bunch of jobs today. Tonight is Bonfire Night - a night on which i had plans before That Thing That Happened, with That Guy I Knew - but now i've nothing planned. I feel like i should do something, but i'll probably just go to bed early again. Lame. Oh well.

Windsor!

OMG you guys. I’m such a spaz. When I hear “Let’s go to Windsor”, I hear “a place with the same name as an outer-western Sydney suburb”.

I FORGOT ABOUT THE CONNECTION TO THE GOD DAMN ROYAL FAM.

Of course “Windsor and Eton” are “Place with ENORMOUS fuck-off castle and also the school where royal boys go.” Felt like a bit of a dumbass when that dawned on me.

Also, the inter-city trains that go past Slough are REALLY FREAKING FAST.

Got to spend several hours hanging out with Anna, Adam and Ros in Windsor, having lunch and wandering around the shops. Just lovely. Didn’t actually go into the castle or anything, apparently it’s pretty expensive, I might do it another day. The weather was cloudy and there was a little bit of rain late in the afternoon, but the sun came out briefly before setting and threw a rainbow up behind the castle (I missed taking a photo of it, though). I had a “cream tea” (scone with jam and cream), but the scones are weird here and have sultanas in them, and they taste really sweet. Sigh. I’ll obviously have to keep trying them until I get one I like.

Adam and Anna gave Ros and I a lift to Heathrow, where we saw them off at Terminal 3 with lots of hugs and kisses. I was glad Ros was there, otherwise there may have been more tears as I said goodbye to Anna. (getting a little choked up even as I write this!) We took the tube back into town – it was very crowded and we gave our seats up to two old ladies and immediately regretted it because it’s a long ride standing up! But we cheered ourselves up by singing songs from The Sound of Music and Avenue Q, and a little Righteous Brothers to see if we could get anyone to join in. No luck! The most we got was weird looks from a small child, who kept shaking his head at us.

I am booked in here until tomorrow morning, and then i'll be checking out and checking back in again for another 5 days. Hopefully after that i'll have somewhere more permanent to live, where i'll be able to unpack my suitcase and shower alone and not wake up in a room that smells like 12 people's feet.I have enjoyed turning my bunk into a little cubby, though.