New Place y Carnival
So I was at the local bank waiting in line for a cash withdrawal. The bank is undergoing renovation; therefore, it is understaffed and has lower recourses than normal, making long lines etc and everyone’s looking around slightly frustrated. I recognize this short older guy two positions ahead of me in line. I could not figure out where I knew him. I later looked him up as Richard Zanuck, a major Hollywood producer of such films as Jaws, The Sound of Music, Planet of the Apes, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory etc. At the time I couldn’t figure it out, so I stared at him hard. I even tried looking at his paperwork to see the name. I didn’t know if he was an actor, or someone I knew from work or what. I think he started feeling uncomfortable, because he kept looking back at me with wide eyes. Plus, the line was taking way too long and here’s this guy staring at him hard. I didn’t mean to be rude, but it was driving me crazy trying to figure it out. He probably comes out here to get away from people like me, because nobody else around seemed to notice a bit. I recognized him right off the bat, I just couldn’t put my finger on it.
We found a place and moved in. We are renting a room out of a converted house, which is more affordable than a standalone flat, because we use a community kitchen and living space instead of paying for everything included in the room. There is small kitchen counter with sink, a fridge, and a bathroom with shower in the room, so the conveniences are not too small, and it is good for what we need. We moved into a temporary basement room in the house, until our upstairs permanent flat opens up. The basement room is roomier than the other rooms, but every time somebody upstairs flushes the toilet, you can hear it run down the pipes in the wall towards your room. Plus the curtains don’t reach the bottom of the window sill, so when you’re laying in bed, people walking along the sidewalk can look down at your head on the pillow. Or you can look up and see them flicking cigarette butts at your window. Sometimes they look at you and scowl, and mouth “stupid Americans”.
The area is called Lancaster Gate, referring to a stone gate that leads to Hyde Park, which is world famous for being the location of the World Fair and a location regularly used for demonstrations of free speech. People literally gather to stand around and say what they wish, as long as it’s not blasphemous to God or derogatory to the queen. The park has a spot with fountains and flowers and a paved path that runs through and about the park.
There is also a section of field in the middle of the park, so you see wildlife and people taking their dogs out for a bit of a run, chasing birds and things. The park is split down the middle by what’s called the Serpentine River, so you must cross a bridge. The bridge is wide and modern, with two lanes and a throwback to historic architecture. At the south end of the bridge, is a huge monument for Prince Albert, husband of Queen Victoria. It’s a very nice area, but we have yet to find a decent sized grocery store in walking distance. There’s an all-you-can-eat pizza joint around the corner, which is very tempting, or we can take the tube to the store in the next town over, but all that is a waste of expenses.
We did walk to the world famous Portobello markets (is everything around here world famous?). It’s a daily outdoor gathering of shops and vendors where you can find anything ranging from fresh veggies to antiques. The market stretches about a mile along Portobello road, and is divided into sections per block, so one block is art, the next antiques the next food etc. We went for the produce, and carefully shopped, eventually nabbing four bags of miscellaneous goods for eight pounds. The produce here is untreated and governmentally regulated, so you’ll find that things aren’t as sweet, or colorful, or big as they are in the states. Strawberries look like these little shriveled seedy things. I noticed a sign on the wall pointing out the room where author George Orwell (Animal Farm, 1984) lived as well.
We are currently living about half a mile from Notting Hill. There was a big carnival this weekend in there, where apparently “two million people a day” show up. Here’s a website link. Well, I don’t know about two million, but there was a TON of people, and the carnival stretched over a big part of town. The theme of the carnival is … Jamaican. That’s right. You go to a big carnival in London and the young people are wearing Jamaican flags, and Bob Marley t-shirts and blowing whistles and horns. And it being a “carnival” means there’s plenty of “authentic” Jamaican food, which seems to be limited to jerk chicken and rice. Everywhere is jerk chicken and rice, with bellows of smoke coming from miles of barbeques with chicken cooking everywhere. Good thing you like jerk chicken and rice, because that’s what’s there to eat, you Jamaican loving sucker. Good thing you like lots and lots of Reggae music and hippies dancing everywhere around you ‘cuz that’s what you get at the Notting Hill carnival.
There was also a “love” parade that went around the vicinity of the city. The parade was mostly made of hollowed out busses pulling bands of steel drummers, and half-naked people with big colorful peacock feathers dancing like chickens. The parade went on for a LONG time, and kind of wrapped around the public in the carnival, so you could NOT get out of the carnival grounds if you wanted to! You were trapped like rats. You got in, but now you can’t get out. So enjoy your jerk chicken and rice and Red Stripe beer, and colorful chicken people. I found it amusing that the locals that live on the streets of the carnival took advantage of the situation, and started selling baked goods/drinks from their doorsteps. Or you could use their “clean bathroom facilities” for a pound ($2)! People were just buying beers and sodas at 2-3 pounds from these guys’ doorsteps, and they were going through flats and flats of the stuff. They were making a killing, and they didn’t even need a license! I looked around and decided that humanity in general is crazy and dirty. People just threw trash on the street like nothing. Chomp on the chicken leg, and throw the bone on the ground and belch. I walked by an old, fat, black lady who was chewing on jerk chicken chunks when she got a piece of cartilage in her mouth, and she just spit it out right in front of me. It actually bounced off my shoe, and she was drooling and started yelling at the crowd saying “moove it I’m coming through!” with strings of spit flying. Hmmm, needless to say, I don’t highly recommend going there unless you’re really into the reggae scene.
We found a place and moved in. We are renting a room out of a converted house, which is more affordable than a standalone flat, because we use a community kitchen and living space instead of paying for everything included in the room. There is small kitchen counter with sink, a fridge, and a bathroom with shower in the room, so the conveniences are not too small, and it is good for what we need. We moved into a temporary basement room in the house, until our upstairs permanent flat opens up. The basement room is roomier than the other rooms, but every time somebody upstairs flushes the toilet, you can hear it run down the pipes in the wall towards your room. Plus the curtains don’t reach the bottom of the window sill, so when you’re laying in bed, people walking along the sidewalk can look down at your head on the pillow. Or you can look up and see them flicking cigarette butts at your window. Sometimes they look at you and scowl, and mouth “stupid Americans”.
The area is called Lancaster Gate, referring to a stone gate that leads to Hyde Park, which is world famous for being the location of the World Fair and a location regularly used for demonstrations of free speech. People literally gather to stand around and say what they wish, as long as it’s not blasphemous to God or derogatory to the queen. The park has a spot with fountains and flowers and a paved path that runs through and about the park.
There is also a section of field in the middle of the park, so you see wildlife and people taking their dogs out for a bit of a run, chasing birds and things. The park is split down the middle by what’s called the Serpentine River, so you must cross a bridge. The bridge is wide and modern, with two lanes and a throwback to historic architecture. At the south end of the bridge, is a huge monument for Prince Albert, husband of Queen Victoria. It’s a very nice area, but we have yet to find a decent sized grocery store in walking distance. There’s an all-you-can-eat pizza joint around the corner, which is very tempting, or we can take the tube to the store in the next town over, but all that is a waste of expenses.
We did walk to the world famous Portobello markets (is everything around here world famous?). It’s a daily outdoor gathering of shops and vendors where you can find anything ranging from fresh veggies to antiques. The market stretches about a mile along Portobello road, and is divided into sections per block, so one block is art, the next antiques the next food etc. We went for the produce, and carefully shopped, eventually nabbing four bags of miscellaneous goods for eight pounds. The produce here is untreated and governmentally regulated, so you’ll find that things aren’t as sweet, or colorful, or big as they are in the states. Strawberries look like these little shriveled seedy things. I noticed a sign on the wall pointing out the room where author George Orwell (Animal Farm, 1984) lived as well.
We are currently living about half a mile from Notting Hill. There was a big carnival this weekend in there, where apparently “two million people a day” show up. Here’s a website link. Well, I don’t know about two million, but there was a TON of people, and the carnival stretched over a big part of town. The theme of the carnival is … Jamaican. That’s right. You go to a big carnival in London and the young people are wearing Jamaican flags, and Bob Marley t-shirts and blowing whistles and horns. And it being a “carnival” means there’s plenty of “authentic” Jamaican food, which seems to be limited to jerk chicken and rice. Everywhere is jerk chicken and rice, with bellows of smoke coming from miles of barbeques with chicken cooking everywhere. Good thing you like jerk chicken and rice, because that’s what’s there to eat, you Jamaican loving sucker. Good thing you like lots and lots of Reggae music and hippies dancing everywhere around you ‘cuz that’s what you get at the Notting Hill carnival.
There was also a “love” parade that went around the vicinity of the city. The parade was mostly made of hollowed out busses pulling bands of steel drummers, and half-naked people with big colorful peacock feathers dancing like chickens. The parade went on for a LONG time, and kind of wrapped around the public in the carnival, so you could NOT get out of the carnival grounds if you wanted to! You were trapped like rats. You got in, but now you can’t get out. So enjoy your jerk chicken and rice and Red Stripe beer, and colorful chicken people. I found it amusing that the locals that live on the streets of the carnival took advantage of the situation, and started selling baked goods/drinks from their doorsteps. Or you could use their “clean bathroom facilities” for a pound ($2)! People were just buying beers and sodas at 2-3 pounds from these guys’ doorsteps, and they were going through flats and flats of the stuff. They were making a killing, and they didn’t even need a license! I looked around and decided that humanity in general is crazy and dirty. People just threw trash on the street like nothing. Chomp on the chicken leg, and throw the bone on the ground and belch. I walked by an old, fat, black lady who was chewing on jerk chicken chunks when she got a piece of cartilage in her mouth, and she just spit it out right in front of me. It actually bounced off my shoe, and she was drooling and started yelling at the crowd saying “moove it I’m coming through!” with strings of spit flying. Hmmm, needless to say, I don’t highly recommend going there unless you’re really into the reggae scene.
posted by Dave | 2:31 AM
1 Comments:
I love the picture of you frolicking through the field! Very pretty Dave!
Love,
Martha Sue
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