Second Edition

20 November, 1999

Well, it's been just on six months now and I still am not loving this muddy little island.

I suppose it is difficult for a person who has been born and bred on the golden beaches of Sydney to really be at home on a grey, infertile rock they call England.

Life here has progressively deteriorated for me. As most of you all know I have lost the love of my life, and tragically because of things that I could have controlled. Anyway, I'm not going to depress you all with the detail. Suffice to say that I love Jackie more than anything but unfortunately am not with her anymore. The only consolation being that I have learned some incredible lessons in process of the break-up.

The weather here, like my personal life, has become miserable. We sadists (people who live in London- obviously!) are experiencing weather of about 5 degrees Celsius on average at the moment, no sun and a drizzle that is as entrenched as the Oprah Winfrey program, and shows no signs of abating. Occasionally the sun tries to break through, but then decides against it. Can you blame the sun? Not much worth making sunny here.

I realise at this point that I am once again beginning to sound very pessimistic, so let me try and highlight the good points- or rather, the good point. Besides the money, London has another benefit...

What London has in its favour is that it is a true test of one's character. Mr Miyagi should have sent Karate Kid to London instead of making him do "wax-on, wax-off's" on his deck. That would have made all the difference. In the same light, I respect this place for what it offers- a test of one's character, tenacity and resilience. As my Australian friends will vouch, it is very hard to get stressed and strained on the Northern Beaches of Sydney. In fact they call it the Insular Peninsula for these very reasons...

A day in the life, during winter...Work hours are much the same (about 60), but now when you stand on the platform waiting for a train you are wearing about 342 layers of clothing, and somehow the wind still manages to infiltrate your clothing. This I must say starts one off in an excellent mood..mmm, yeah right. You then take yourself and your mood (It is so pervasive that it is it's own entity) and you hop onto the train. There are heaters on the train so you attempt to thaw. You then take your train ride, and as you get closer to work the train becomes busier and busier. More and more people get on until there is so much body heat that your 342 layers are now making you sweat. Furthermore, people kindly share their germs with you by coughing in your face. They then compensate, not with an apology, but a look of, "yeh, what you want geyser!" This only helps to foster that wonderful feeling of negativity that is now you, incarnate. This trip is rounded off be incessant delays as well...

...Which brings me to a funny story. There is a new line here called the Jubilee Line. The funny thing is that this development is £2 billion over budget, one and half years late and where the new line meets old, the signalling systems and rail technologies are incompatible. This epitomises the well run nature of this society, sort of like the National Health system here. Care to wait 14 months for any non-critical operation? Mmm, yeah probably not. Private health care you say? Sure, but only a small fraction of people can afford it and if you need drugs these are not covered by the government or your health insurer if you have decided to go the private root.

Ha, do you know that they have a paper here called the Sun. This paper consists of about ten words (all of which are font size 500 headings), adverts for call girls, a Page Three girl bearing her mammary glands, more ads for call girls, and some pictures of soccer premadona's. This is London largest selling newspaper. Need I say more??

Another quirk about London life is the social scene. Pubs. That's it. The capital of theatre you say? Pfff, not part of a Londoner's social life that is for sure. All the shows are visited by tourists to London. These shows are wonderful and have some of the best thespians in the world, but at £30 to £60 they are too expensive to frequent often. Getting back to the pubs....These are bastions of English socialisation. To understand these is to understand the psyche of the Englishmen.

The pubs are all very dark and dingy- this is obligatory and I think well planned as the persistent inbreeding doesn't exactly produce the most beautiful race. Oh, and they drink the water here (we drink bottled to ensure no brain damage) which is full of heavy metals and chemicals. This obviously impairs their thinking and thus, ability to converse....which is why these pubs are also acoustically retarded- again, well planned, saving one from having to listen to their nonsensical dribble. It is really amazing, even without music one cannot here what the person next to him is saying. And it is in this environment that one learns the sophisticated sign language of pubs- nod yes, nod no and scratch the privates if your are uncertain. For those of you who don't think you can get a tan in a London winter, then think again. I have seen many of seasoned pubs go'ers with a nice reddish glow. You know when one drinks so much that your face is permanently red from all the blood vessels in your face you've managed to burst. Yeh, I know, it's not a tan, but hey, from a distance that reddish glow can be mistaken for one and in this climate it is probably your only shot at getting one.

Again, being as money oriented as I am, I would like to highlight the absurdity of the fermented beverage (booze) pricing structure. We were at my company's Christmas party the other night, a place called Babe Ruth's. Admittedly it was quite posh, but nonetheless still fricken expensive. As the company had benevolently decided to sponsor our drinks, people decided to splash out a little and drink Vodka and Red Bulls- well, in fact doubles. The cost of these you ask? Ha, £7!! Yep, you heard it right- R70 or $17 for a single drink. For my Aussie friends I would like to put this into a South African perspective: In my third year of University my weekly shopping bill was R35, thus one drink could have fed me for two weeks in the year of 1998. Now admittedly we ate like bums- every dinner consisted of "something" and rice, for lunch there was toast, and breakfast there was Pro Nutro (For the Aussies: this is a cereal that when added with milk makes cement, and funnily enough is very cheap!)...So back to the economic disparity- one drink equals two weeks food. Furthermore, our total drinks bill for our department came to the equivalent of R26,000 ($6,500) for not more than 40 people! To add insult to injury, I had one two (too- he he) many "free" drinks nullifying my already poor appetite and hence, ended up not eating my R320 meal!! As in every story, however, there is always one winner and I think you'll agree that this was Babe Ruth's. Us you say? No! Not us, the employees, for we had to nurse the hangovers from hell, and those of you who have had to suffer my whining from a hangover in the past will know only too well that the next day was like Chinese torture...I will also have you know that this Babe Ruth pricing policy is not an anomaly. In fact drinks are expensive almost everywhere in London. On average, a glass of wine is about £2 and a beer is £2.50. I remember the days when the boys used to be jealous that I was such a cheap drinker. Pff, well I still am only having my four pints but it is now costing me R100!...anyway, you get the point.

London will also definitely never ever go down as one of the cleanest cities in the world. You see, the problem here lies with those potato worshipping, Paddy O'Connors across the Irish Sea. Yep, the IRA. In their attempts to maim the individuals of London they have circumvented the usual process of proliferating bins in the capital. This is because they are said to be nice repositories for the IRA's "political persuaders"- Yeah, bombs. This has the effect of much litter being strewn around the streets of London and especially the Underground...creating a sort of Jackson Pollock litter mosaic (for those who need a hand with the imagery). Now for me, I grew up in a suburb that used to fine people $500 for throwing cigarette butt on the ground, so obviously I have a slight neurosis about litter which is only heightened by the warm and friendly attitudes that greet me every morning and afternoon on the public transport.

As far as sport goes, these poor English are a sad bunch. But I am here to defend them. I want you people to empathise with these poor Brits. Imagine this: No sun for 8 months, constant rain, very cold (very!), £10 per half hour of squash, £100 per months for a shitty gym, health foods- fricken expensive!, tap water- toxic, parks- only three major ones in London for the 25 million living within the M25 circle...need I continue? Put it this way, I love my sport with a passion, but I'd be hard pressed doing sport here at a serious level. Very, very difficult.

Girls? Ha, well since my loved one Jackie and I parted, I have really been trying to make an effort to see if there are any "potentials" out there to help me get over losing her. (This has been impossible as every girl I see reminds me of Jackie, but anyway.) There are some pretty ones out there, given. But it is when they open their mouth that a mild attraction transforms into feelings of mild irritation. It is known amongst my friends that I appreciate a women that can converse. Well, unless you like conversation about drugs, the latest pair of shoes, hotrod cars and Wella hair gel, you are just not going to find much to converse about. And again, it is not their fault. It is this society they live in- remember, the society of the Sun newspaper. You just cannot blame a society that has its cultural roots built on Eastenders, The Sun and news about Political trysts.

Another good indicator of people, for me anyway, is the way in which they spend their money. People my age here spend their money on three things: intoxicants (beer and amphetamines), expensive clothes and highly depreciable assets (cars, stereos). This is not too bad, but is a glaring problem when one realises that there is zero thought for the future. The immediate gratification is all that counts. The futurologists that predicted this trend some years ago would have a field day here in London. Everything here is bought on credit and what little is earned each week. It is phenomenal to think that society can lack such maturity in it's approach to life.

I was reading an article today in the paper that heralded: "Less hours, more Pay". This was seen as an incredibly good thing. Mmm, I don't know about you but this is just total and utter bull droppings. How can civilised people celebrate something like this. It is obvious that something or someone (namely, consumers in the long run) are going to have to pay for this....or maybe it is not so obvious for them. The key point here, again, is the mentality of this society.

Take me at work for example. I have actually been asked by colleagues to slow my rate of work down. They say I work too hard. Can you believe it? This is something that my mother or girlfriend should be saying to me because they are worried about my health, not colleagues wishing me to slow down because I am making them look bad! Bear in mind too, that I work for an American bank which is meant to have brought the "new age" capitalist ethos to Europe. But that is the harsh reality of a society such as this. It inculcates mediocrity....Gee, I would have hated to see this place before Thatcher wielded her political axe.

Again I want to acknowledge my pessimism and apologise for it. I never set out to write a scathing anthropological report on London. My primary motivation was to inform you, my friends and family, on how my life is in London and to perhaps enlighten some of my deluded friends on the reality of this place. Despite my goal to be objective, I concede that my frame of mind has influenced this chronicle of London and can be evidenced by my emotive words.

I'd like to point out, however, that I am not a negative person by nature (those who know will vouch). In fact, I like to think that, my friends at least, are attracted to me by positivity and optimism. But as hard as I try, this place offers me no motivational solace.

For those worried, I am firmly resolved to conquer this place. I will not be defeated by London, I can guarantee you that.

----Wahoo, I have to interrupt for minute as the sun has just shone through!!! Yipee. Oh, no. Yes. No. Yes. No, it's just gone again. 11 seconds in three months...woo hoo!! -----

Well anyway, the smart ones have all left for the warmth of sunny South Africa. Nearly all of my friends living here (some 40 odd from Joburg, Durban and Varsity) have left to see their families over Xmas and spend New Years with their friends in the Cape, Durban and Mozambique. I just want you people to know this: I hate you. This feeling won't last and is born totally out of jealousy so forgive me. But in all seriousness, I hope you have a great Xmas (i.e., Santa brings you heaps of presents) and New Years (i.e., you get really drunk, come right, and are not too hung over the next day. Richie and Craig: I realise you won't be able to fulfil these goals, but good luck anyway).

Well friends and family, it has been good speaking to you again (although only a one way process, I enjoyed it nonetheless- in fact, that's the way I like it), but I must go and do some work. The time spent on this literary masterpiece has more than equated my productivity with that of my colleagues. I wish you all the best, and remember, South Africa and Australia are awesome countries...or in Australian vernacular: "they rule mate!"