London Calling

 
We flew to London from on Sunday via Virgin Atlantic. I’d never flown Virgin before (snicker, snicker), and it was everything you’d want a flight to be—quick, uneventful, and, being English, they served us all a cup of tea. Very civilized. I mean, civilised.

I’d been apprehensive about returning to London. In 1987 I spent a semester here as a twenty-year-old student, and that time still ranks as one of the worst periods of my life. It was winter, the worst winter in European history (to that point) at that, my various emotional problems were unchecked and present in full force. I remember being cold, undernourished, weepy, homesick, and utterly unprepared for life abroad.  I swore that London was the very pit of Hell, and that I would never return for love or money.  When I met Rob in 1990, he had just returned from a year working in London, and his impression was far different. His London had sunshine and trees with leaves on them and food from decent restaurants. He loved London. As we started dating in 1991-ish, he wanted me to come to love it too. So, after some ten-odd years of persuasion, here I am. And I kind of hate to say it, but…it’s great.

It’s impossible for me to separate out what has changed in London from what has changed with me, so here is a list of ways that 2000 London is different from 1987 London.

Food—In 1987, I hardly had two shillings to rub together, so the full array of London’s gastronomic promise was not open to me. In my memory, everything I ate tasted horrible except Cadbury’s Fruit and Nut bars (which became the staple of my diet), American fast food, and the occasional Indian meal. Well, it’s a whole ‘nother story when you’re here as well-heeled yuppie scum. Yes, we’ve had Indian food, and it kicks ass (I was such a little fool in ’87, while I did enjoy the curries I had, I had no idea that I was eating the best outside of India itself). We’ve also had Thai noodles, designer sandwiches with stuff like pesto instead of butter, lattes and blueberry muffins, and killer Chinese at Zen. I guess the take-away from all this is that in 1987, crappy English food was much more horrible than crappy American food. In 2000, I’m just not going to find out.

Beer—Beer probably saved my life in 1987—I’m sure I would have starved without it. And it was hella good too; you just couldn’t get beer like that in a bar in the States at that time. Not really. Well, I don’t know if it’s all the great microbreweries in the Northwest, or the fact I don’t really drink beer that much any more, but it’s just not the same. I was so excited to have my first pub drawn beer, and when I drank it, I was all, “That’s it?” I had two pub beers in London, and I didn’t finish either one.

The English—For the first week or so I was in London the first time, I was so self-conscious of my Americanness, that I was literally afraid to speak. The English, with their accents and their idioms seemed so foreign to me, so exotic. Now, the English are all in their SUVs with their cellphones and their Starbuck’s. Now, I can barely distinguish most of them from Americans (apart from the smoking)—and there are sooooooooooooooo many Americans. In the neighborhood where we are staying, about every other voice I hear is American.  When I open my mouth to speak, no one goes, “Ah, you’re American!” It’s like I’ve got an honorary London accent. No one called me an “upstart colonist,” as one guy on the street did in 1987.

Dog Crap—One of the things that would send me over the edge when I had just about had enough of London was the sheer volume of dog crap that would just be all over the sidewalk. It was like walking down a cobblestone landmine. Now, it’s gone. I don’t know what happened, and I don’t care. I’m just very happy.

Cleanliness—(see “Dog Crap”) Used to be, I’d come in from a day out in London, blow my nose, and see all this black crud. Not any more. Buildings have been spruced up—St. Paul’s Cathedral has had a bath and it looks all sparkly. Tube stations no longer have a carpet of empty crisps bags on the ground (a feat that is made doubly amazing by the fact that all the trash bins have been taken out due to “terrorist activities.”).

Children—Rob and I both noticed that people seem to like their children better now.  In the past, parents seemed to shower more love and attention on their dogs than on their kids. The whole kiddie-leash thing was very popular, as was ignoring kids when they cried, screaming at them to shut up, and smacking them in the face. Now, everyone is all lovey-dovey with them, bringing them into nice restaurants, actually appearing to enjoy their company. Bizarre.

Miscellaneous—There’s a new two-pound coin, which is really cool-looking. Those gigantor 10-pence pieces have been replaced with ones about the size of a quarter. Tony Blair is prime minister instead of Margaret Thatcher. The Internet has been invented. There are new models of black cabs (and not all of them are black). When you slip up and say “to go” instead of “take away,” they actually can figure out what you’re talking about. They use “fries” instead of “chips” a lot.

But, some things have remained the same: customer service is still no one’s middle name (though they’re trying, you can tell), they still say “lovely” every other word, they still have undecipherable and convoluted signs (“You may find it more convenient to collect a shopping cart on your way to the main entrance of Sainsbury’s”—this sign was posted about three feet from the grocery store’s main entrance…what the hell does it mean?).

And, really, it is a wonderful city. I’m glad I’ve given it another chance.

--Lisa

The famous Tube warning

Horseback riders in Hyde Park

Big books, little car