I’m been in London for a month now and the city never stops surprising me with its strangeness. Many of my questions led me to make a decision: I will take you for a walk. The walk would not be explained if one walked along the banks of the Thames to admire London Bridge or to change guards at Buckingham. It will be London in crazy and wobbly details. London just amazes me and sometimes questions me. Queen Elizabeth can leave London and get Jack the Ripper without looking back.
Eleven o’clock in the morning: I wake up by the light of the sun’s rays – it does not pass between the dense clouds around the capital. It’s too late to take full advantage of my morning, you’re right. The alarm on my cell phone did not sound because the battery in it was exhausted and I failed to pick up an adapter to connect it. Pound sterling, rolled to the left, do everything differently in English, everyone knows that, I do not think about their semi-square, semi-circular power stations.
It’s eleven-thirty now, and I’m a little hungry. I’m a little more of a tourist, so I rush to the first restaurant to pick up breakfast. The Two MacPhies Cafe London Very close to my house is so cute, I come home and order their classic menu. The clouds cleared up a bit and I decided to go to King Edward Memorial Park for lunch in the sun.
Arriving at the square, I saw my party. Butter dosa soaked in fried eggs, until then, the French girl I was with was not very distracted. The sausage and the pork chops that come with them also delight my taste buds. The English are right: being fat is good. The menu is flawless, I’m glad. I decide to tackle the little round tupperware I left on the side, and there it is in play. I don’t particularly like white beans. I have nothing against them, but we want to continue to live on our own. The Beans Of Two Macbeths Cafe Bathe in a kind of tomato sauce that tastes like ketchup. I force myself to eat a little so as not to offend the country that welcomes me.
Now with a full stomach, I continue my walk. To do this, I have to face a little hell of an invention of the devil: the DLR line of the London Underground. Two terminals on the west ensure two branches face north and three go south. After thinking for a minute in front of the station direction signs, I was able to get to the right site. My train arrives with a sharp scream. I sat down, the train was quiet, the seats were empty. I stand at the bank to go to Liverpool Street. When I look, many things strike me. London is beautiful, its tall buildings splitting the sky and making a strange difference, yet harmonious, small Protestant churches separate from each other. This combination between the traditional red bricks of small buildings and the large windows of skyscrapers has a fun effect on me, and this city is unique.
I try to go down the road to reach the opposite sidewalk. I have to say this move is dangerous, there are no pedestrian crossings in this city and what we find is strangely designed. Why not mark them as accurately with a checkerboard as they are everywhere else? That may be precisely because London is nowhere else like the others. There is no frame on the road here – almost – and the pedestrian crossings are divided into two sections, offset by two meters from each other to cross a boulevard.
I passed, buses did not drop me, taxis did not run fast. The Londoners around me wear such a special style: the staff comes out of their desks with tight ties, and the school students wear their little uniforms. Speaking of uniforms, who said the police should wear such ridiculous helmets? I see English folk tales Cheap, I have to admit that he always makes me laugh.
On my way I saw lovers, joggers, friends going to the bar, but I also saw parents and their descendants walking over an obstacle. New English custom, simple trend, I do not understand it properly, but I suppressed a little laughter. I understood that we should not question the strangeness of the English, but appreciate what they are: unusual events to tell our friends while drunk.
Other than that I have to go after wandering aimlessly now. My friends are waiting at a bar for me for a happy time. The latter starts very early here, often at three o’clock. The British, an hour before France, are living at a completely different pace. At nine o’clock, we will be dancing in a nightclub when our friends in France meet at the bar.
It is now two o’clock in the morning, the night in the capital is long and the nightclub staff are trying their best to evacuate us. I have to say the evenings in London end prematurely. The advantage is that we will not be completely flat for our nine o’clock draft meeting tomorrow morning.
I ‘m on my way home. Silence has returned to the commercial road. Here we do not meet a mouse, squirrels are the kings of the city. They usually browse and bump into crowded roads.
Three-thirty, I came to the apartment. I have heavy eyelids and I am going to sleep. That’s when the ambulance on the empty road sounded louder and louder, and today was the last time I jumped.