What's one foolproof way for a man about town to avoid the January doldrums that descend upon New York? Get the hell out of Dodge! So I did just that, making my maiden voyage to London, England.
Tuesday, January 11th: Flew out of JFK at just before 11 in the evening on Virgin Atlantic. When flying economy on Virgin you certainly see how they came up with their name...it's definitely a tight fit. Let's not dwell though, moving right along...
Wednesday, January 12th: Despite all my plans to beat the jetlag, I ended up a total failure. Landed at Heathrow a little before 11am London time, and made my way down to the heart of it all for lunch with my friend Deb, with whom I would be staying. Was pleasantly surprised to find that our mutual friend Dave would be joining us (we all went to school together). Had lunch by Deb's office, struggled with the delerium that my jetlag and fatigue were driving me to, ultimately succumbed as soon as we finished eating by hightailing it to Deb's apartmant...err..flat, upon receiving excellent directions from Deb. Passed out until Deb got back home and had a simple evening out, venturing only to have some Italian food in her lovely neighborhood of Bayswater.
Thursday, January 13th: My first "real" day in London started a bit later than I would've liked, as I slept in and then had to stop by Deb's office to check my email after losing the notebook that I'd written down all my phone numbers in. Brilliant! As all the friends I had in London were busy working, I took the opportunity to let the Art History Geek in me come on strong. Spent the entire afternoon in the National Gallery (roughly 4 hours) accompanied by an audio guide and a notebook to jot down the works I particularly enjoyed. By the time I was kicked out, it was also time for Deb to get off work, so picked her up, took the bus back to her place (we sat on the second level this time!), and made a lovely tofu stir fry. After dinner it was time to get the evening festivities started, but working woman Deb had to stay in. Luckily there was Dave who hooked me up with a really fun night at the Institute of Contemporary Arts (ICA) which was celebrating the start of a short film festival with drinking, bands, and a DJs. It looked dire for a bit when I arrived at about 10:30 and was told the whole party was sold out. Not one to be denied (the ICA is right off of Trafalgar Square, which means if we'd gone elsewhere it would have been tourist trap hell), Dave was sent back in to try to see if anyone had an extra ticket (he was already inside). Minutes later I had a ticket from an impromptu tout (scalper 'round these parts), and I was in and ready to listen to the end of a set from a bad band (sort of Cramps, meets Blues Explosion, meets Joy Division) who were wearing zombie makeup and suits. Was not impressed, but everyone else said they were good. With that out of the way, it was time to toss back pints with fellow music snobs Dave, and his friends David and Julia. Julia managed to be someone who hated more things than even I do, so she was awesome in my book. Julia almost got into a fight with some random wasted chick who didn't know the meaning of "this chair is taken." Alas, the situation was diffused and my hopes of witnessing a girl-on-girl bar brawl on my first real night out in London were denied. We so could've taken her! I must mention that one of the DJs who was spinning was Chris "Beans" Geddes, keyboardist for Belle and Sebastian. If you know me, you know I love me some B&S, so it was a great treat! After drinking until we were forced out at 2am, it was time to take a voyage on the famed London Night Bus. Sorry, but my fuzzy memory is sparing us all forced sentimentality. All I know is it got me home and there were probably other drunk people around.
Friday, January 14th: Woke up early the next day and ready for another round! Seeing as how I left the National Gallery without making it through the 18th and 19th Centuries, I simply had to go back! Went through more quickly this time, and was out after only about another 90 minutes (yes, that means 6 hours over 2 days...wasn't kidding about this art stuff). Then I ventured down Whitehall to see what all the tourists have to...Houses of Parliament, Big Ben, Westminster Abbey...blah blah blah. They're cool and all, but the Tate Britain was waiting for me. Got there by mid-afternoon and proceeded to be generally bored by their barrage of British art through the ages. Their JMW Turner section is great, but do you REALLY have to devote an entire room to Tracey Emin? I'm waiting for her master ouevre inspired by the time a condom got lodged in her fallopian tubes. Was relieved that the museum's not all that large, and was done in time to go meet other friends, Kate and Sarah (hadn't seen them in 5 years but it felt like just yesterday!), for dinner and drinks in Soho. Drinking in Soho requires some comment. First off, it's a bit of a relief that the queer scene is as mixed as it is in London. Everyone seems to get along, respect each other, which is nice. However, the bigger concern is how WEAK mixed drinks are in England. Apparently they have some law that requires bartenders to stick to the one ounce and one ounce only rule for mixing drinks. When you're from New York "unless it burns going down, it's not enough" City, this is particularly troubling. I ultimately had to resign myself to going back to beer, as they can't mess with that alcohol content (excluding Utah and several other parts of the Western US, of course). The second thing worth noting is the "buying rounds" culture. Now in New York, we all like to offer to buy rounds for people, but we don't really enjoy doing it. It's every man for themself out there! So when you have to stage a powwow every time you want another drink, it gets a little tired. Thirdly, why must all the bars close at 11, leaving you to troll around for places that stay open later and invariably charge a cover if you want to be there past 1 or 2am? Despite all these shocking revelations about London nighlife (which most of you probably already know), I still had a great, albeit mostly sober, time.
Saturday, January 15th: Slept in, brunch with Deb and her flatmate Doro, then ventured out to the Tate Modern. First Deb and I tried taking the bus to get there, as it drives by all the main sights in central London. However, Oxford Street on a Saturday afternoon is bus hell leaving us sitting in traffic for close to 30 minutes. So we got off and hopped on the tube. Which ALSO wasn't moving. Somehow a quick 30 minute trip across town managed to take over 90, leading to the next realization: transportation in London basically sucks! If Brits did a little less whining and a mustered up a little more ire, maybe you could rectify the situation, no? When you make the New York MTA look good, you're in trouble. Eventually made it down to Bankside, after walking by St. Paul's Cathedral (lovely after the clean-up, even if I never saw it before the clean up), and across the Millenium Bridge. Now, much has been said about the Tate Modern, and much of it is true, so I won't belabor the point. The Robert Frank exhibition was great, if depressing, and dividing up their collection by themes as opposed to chronology isn't all that radical in the end. It works. When finally finished with the Modern, at 9pm (seriously), it was time for Deb and I to grab dinner, the "other national cuisine" curry. After quickly gorging ourselves on Indian veggie dishes (we're both vegetarians, which is nice), we then went to meet Kate and Sarah at a bar in the Covent Garden Market. Now, I was prepared for touristy, but not THAT touristy. After one drink and a few mishaps in plans, we had to cut out early to meet Deb's friend Nat for some dancing. Went to a place called Madam Jojo's which was sort of Latin Funk Disco that night. Sounds not so good, but the music was actually really fun, getting us to break out into elaborate routines that included the walker, the pizza throw, the chainsaw, the shopping cart, a brief limbo (to a song that said something like "Now is not the time to limbo"), and even more brief conga line. Yes, basically we made complete assholes of ourselves and had more fun than anyone else there! Awesome! By closing time we were still among the last people standing. When the DJ asked "so should I play one more", I had to do my part and let out a raucous "WOOOOOOOOO!!!" After joking "does anybody BESIDES this guy want me to play another," he did his thing and let us make fools of ourselves for another five or six minutes. Incidentally, British people can't dance. Myself and my two Canadian female companions were running circles around the place (only sometimes literally). Another night out, another night bus. While waiting for the bus, we were accompanied by 8 British chicks wearing slutty "bobby uniforms" and one wearing an angel costume. Was this a bachelorette party? Was this any old Saturday night for them? I don't know, but I'd been warned about the British chicks, and I really have nothing to say to the contrary. Mini skirts and leather pumps? Even I know that's wrong!
Sunday, January 16th: One more full day, so more art. This time ventured over to Whitechapel for an amazing show called Faces in the Crowd (think very famous Ezra Pound poem) at the Whitechapel Art Gallery, which started with Manet and went right up to the present. Lots of big names, with good, representative works included! If you're in London, you must check it out! After that it was time to see the new Wong Kar Wai film 2046 at the Barbican Center! To all you Americans who are still waiting for it to get a distribution deal, I simply have to say "SUCKS TO BE YOU!" I really liked it! As it was my last night in London, I managed to keep things pretty calm. Went to a late dinner in the posh Maida Vale neighborhood, and then just chatted it up till late with Deb.
Monday, January 17th: The somewhat unfortunate final day. Well, Monday was basically a bust. I was exhausted, the rain finally came back to London (it had be sunny and warmish the entire time I was there!), all my ambitious last minute ideas fell through (Buckingham Palace, etc.), I ended up missing my flight. I took a lovely walk in Hyde Park, and that I can tell you is worth recalling.
Phew! No wonder it's taken me so long to recover! Now that that's out of the way, I'm ready to take on my hometown again! I'll be passing around my dance card shortly...
