Somewhere between Aussies in uniform, sweaty boys in Bintang beer singlets, plentiful cheap beers, we had stepped through a black hole to an Australia that never quite existed. It was 4pm. We could stay here all night.
There was only one little problem with this genius plan.
So, let’s go back to the dark and rainy and neon-lit Clapham High St, midnight on the verge of Good Friday.
Before the feeling of enchantment fades — going the way of my love of taking the tube and amusement at double decker red buses — I’ve decided to delve into the london theatre scene in earnest. As best my budget allows.
Perhaps I’ll take you through a typical few days, now that I’ve begun to have the luxury (?) of such things.
…and then we all felt brilliant the next morning and did heaps of really dedicated sightseeing and decided that that was way better than drinking anyway so stayed in the next night and played cards instead.
Lies.
We’re here for Chandler’s thirtieth birthday. He’s been given a big gaudy birthday badge and he isn’t shy about tapping it and issuing birthday commands. His first? Everyone must order a full litre of the local beer, Dreher at lunch. This, plus a Weiner schnitzel the size of birthday boy’s face apiece, costs each of us about 3000 Hungarian forent, the equivalent of less than ten quid. It’s a revelation. After being persistent paupers in London, we feel like emporers in Hungary.
At 4.45am the alarm went off and I was out the door by 5.15am, to make the very first Circle Line tube of the day from Kings Cross at 5.31am to make the 6am National Express bus from Liverpool St to make the 8.30am flight from London Stansted to Budapest. All going well.
It’s been tumultuous, welcoming but life-expectancy-shortening week. A brief rundown is below. No doubt more details will arise in subsequent entries.
It was this little realisation, made at freezing cold Paddington station as Sunday’s sun gave up on its feeble attempt to warm the day, that threatened to evoke my first panic attack. And it’s the equally little things that are helping to settle my jiggling ‘what have I done’ anxiety.
An unsettlingly big place 