Eish! London 22 August

Saturday, 22 August

Emma and I went to Portobello Roadwhere I went against my new ‘chiropractic diet’ for the first time and had a slice of cake from the famous Hummingbird Café. The cake wasn’t called ‘Pink Velvet’ for nothing! Wow!

We walked along the road checking out all the different stores and antiques. I found a great pocket watch for my Dad’s birthday which the vendor engraved for me for free! I was so grateful. In the same shop they had the most awesome theatrical masks I have ever seen. They adorned an entire wall echoing different parts of theatre history with each different mask. I was in my element and Emma had to drag me away. I wanted to buy them all and ship them toSouth Africato show the learners what the ‘real thing’ looks like. I couldn’t afford even one, and I knew that it would be a fundamental mission to pack and transport, without breakage. Bother!

I was going to a themed party on Saturday the 5th: “S.O.S. Emergency Services,” and the only clothing in my cupboard that would work were my camo trousers and khaki top with a choker necklace. Vendors in the street were selling hats and sure enough there was an army one there that would finish off the outfit perfectly, so I bought it. Spending money I didn’t really have wasn’t so smart, but I was very happy with the few items I had spent the money on.Portobello Road - Tick √.

Emma and I were going through to Brighton Beach in the morning, so was staying over at her new place (thank goodness I didn’t have to see her old bathroom heater again!). As she had been invited to a house party that night, we took the tube straight fromPortobello Road to Turham Green where we found the house after many text messages.

A London house party: Loud music, lots of people with glasses in their hands, lots of bottles of alcohol, lots of crisps and snacks, a very messy kitchen, toilets that are continually in use and lots and lots of ‘chit chat’; yet every now and then you meet a gem of a person where you get really interesting conversation. (I don’t recall one at this party though; I can’t even remember what the people looked like; how bad is that?). There’s often one unique outstanding feature to a house party, one thing that makes it different from all the others, the thing that will be your point of reference should you ever need to refer back to that particular evening in another session of ‘chit chat’. The unique feature at this place was 2 in-house professional DJs with their own turntables and mixes. These guys had even mixed it up in Ibitha; and boy did they show us! I had an awesome time dancing in the tiniest lounge ever, around a coffee table that literally took up a third of the room. I had a blast waxing the carpet!

One of the other guests turned out to be a local London-clubber and he asked me where I went clubbing. I honestly replied: “I’ve never been clubbing in London.”

He was shocked: “But you move so well, you have to go clubbing, we have to go clubbing. We definitely have to.”

I’ve heard these promises before, but I thought maybe this guy was serious: “I’m keen, I’ve been trying to find someone to go with, but I haven’t had any luck yet.”

He looked at me quizzically: “You don’t need to find anyone, you must just go. That blonde girl in the kitchen; the one who’s had a bit too much;” said in the manner of nudge-nudge, wink-wink, because I haven’t had to much even if I’m slurring, “She gets drunk and goes out on her own all the time. She’s only 20, but boy does she know how to party!”

I looked at him, had he been smoking? “I don’t know the clubs inLondonand I’m not keen to get drunk and go out on my own. You never know what could happen.”

“Nothing’s gonna happen, you just gotta get out there. Don’t worry about it, just let loose and have a party.”

Yes, u-huh, I can see that happening; not!London, drunk, on my own? Was the man mad?

“I’d prefer to know I’m safer by having someone there with me.”

“Ah man, you just gotta go; but that’s ok I’ll take you. Deal?”

I shook his hand: “Deal”, or rather: No Deal. He never got in touch or took me anywhere. London-house parties: A lot of drunken ‘chit chat’. After my interaction with Jo and ‘the proposal’, I should’ve learnt the first time.