So what's been happening, where have I been? Well, first there was my second nothing-short-of spectacular Christmas on the island with family. Almost put off by all the bubbles on the beach and crimbo sunshine last year, surprisingly Mum, Dad and brother Benny were back for more. It is written in the unwritten Bermuda expat bible of life that thou shalt spend Christmas morning on Elbow Beach in a Santa hat with Champagne cocktail in hand. Oh shucks, must I?
Apart from that, the age old format remained the same. Ate too much everyday, drank too much everyday. Balanced out (or imbalanced out as the case may be) by a few faaamily walks.
January brought my 30th birthday and my first trip home to the U.K. in 15 months. Never did I think I would describe London Gatwick as a culture shock but that is exactly what it was. I haven't been completely marooned on the rock all that time, I've been to the U.S. a number of times, but still I hadn't seen my homeland for so long that it was almost foreign. A lot has changed in that that time, there's a whole new Government and the recession has truly bitten for starters.
Also a shock to the system, the weather. It is fair to say that I am now fully acclimatised to my Bermuda climes. Yes, 14 degrees celsius is cold, it's not proper rain unless it's 'tank rain' and wind is measured by the degree to which you feel you could be blown off your scooter. So you can imagine my dismay to find myself in 4 degrees. Brrrrrrrr. I anticipated I would feel the cold, I did not however anticipate not being able to feel my face due to the fact that it was pretty much frozen. Who needs botex eh?
Second biggest challenge to this now simple island dweller was major information overload, I feel like Johnny 5 trying to fathom out this whole new world of input. Finding baggage reclaim alone was an enigma.There were signs telling me which platform I needed to get the train into Central London, signs telling me which lift I need to get to said platform, not to mention train times, temporary tube maps with engineering works updates etc etc.
Now to the average Londoner this is no big deal but when you're used to virtually no information in day to day life then it's somewhat of challenge. For example, to get a bus into town stand by a pink pole or to get out of town stand by a blue one. Simples. Then there's the roads, really just a case of North Shore, Middle or South Road. The only slight causes for confusion are why you need to choose between a Zone 3 or 14 bus ticket and why there are so many Tribe Roads, there are even A and B variants of this popular road name. Small mysteries in comparison to the crystal maze experience that was getting out of Gatwick. Luckily it was an 'automatic lock-in' timed challenge or else I'd still be there. If the security has been upped as much as rumours suggest then there is probably a man somewhere studying unusual behavioural patterns on some CCTV in the deepest, darkest corner of the airport. After my visit, he is probably still there a week later, scratching his head, and trying to work out why someone would get off the Bermuda flight and continue to walk round in continuous circles, chasing one's proverbial tail.
By the time I reached the bustling Zone 1 of London town and plonked myself into the sanctuary of a black cab, leaving the cockney at the wheel in charge of navigation, I felt a little more at ease but still somewhat of a tourist. I felt myself gasp as we sped by Buckingham Palace, Big Ben, Trafalgar Square, the London Eye, Tower Bridge. Oh oh oh, it was almost too much, for this legal alien! These are the things that become frightfully commonplace when you pass them on a daily basis, but when you are starved of such sightseeing marvels, they give you that lust for London life once more.
Unable to check into my hotel for a few hours I made the mistake of trying to tackle the pavement traffic on London Bridge at rush hour, head-on. I had in mind that I would go for a nice peaceful stroll along the south bank, forgetting about the minor issue of making it alive across the Thames first. Never have I felt more like pavement roadkill as I fell foul to around the quarter of the population of Bermuda on that one bridge at 8.50am. It's enough to turn this fish out of water into a quivering wreck. And people walk so fast and with such purpose. There is no beeping just to say "hey girlfriend/aceboy", pulling over for a quick catch up with a pedestrian or random passers-by telling you look "cute" or that your outfit is "fierce."
Other than that when it came to interaction once more with my people, natural order was restored. Yes there was facial hair on some faces where once there none but the same people were late, stressed, drunk or inappropriate as before. And the same people were this classic cocktail rolled into one.
One of the first new additions to London life I noticed was Mayor Boris's bikes. What a bloody good idea, although I've been sheltered from the political backlash that no doubt surrounds them. But it looked pretty straight forward, they're everywhere, you pay an access fee, hop on and hop off where you like and you travel in the good 'ol British styling of the Barclays brand.
One thing I had conveniently forgotton was how long it takes to get around the big smoke and the old rule of thumb to allow 40 minutes for any journey regardless of distance. Following a dose of speed shopping on Oxford Street, I foolishly had thoughts of popping two stops up the Victoria Line in ten minutes to meet my friends for drinks. Forgetting about the daily dramas of station closures due to overcrowding, engineering works and other infuriating obstacles in getting from A to Zed.
I later discovered on the News at Ten the reason for travel delays (as so often was the case when I was a Londoner - you never really know what's going on as you bumble along and just wait to be told later by the all-seeing beeb). In this case, tax cut protesters had been sprayed by Police with CS gas. A sign of the times if ever there was one. Perhaps civilization ain't so civilized after all.
I must admit it was kinda nice to get back to the island and a sense of calm was restored as we cruised into land just as the sun set.
Then as if the euphoria of being back in paradise wasn't enough, I got to walk into Arrivals on the airport carpet now enjoying viral fame following a CNN article. To find out what the fuss is all about, see The Royal Gazette report here or just come visit. It's a real beauty, the carpet and the island.
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