This Green One

I just got home from a rather epic journey after seeing Inglourious Basterds at the Odeon in Tottenham Court Road with Pete.  The movie was ok, but that’s a story for some other film critic to tell you.  Before I get stared, I’ll just mention that I didn’t have my camera on me tonight so I had to make do in the dark with my phone-cam so advance apologies for the poor quality shots.

Anyhoo, my plan was to catch the tube to Clapham Common from TCR, which precedes a short bus ride home to my front door.  However the tube tonight had been inexplicably closed early so I was forced to find an alternate route.  The new plan was to walk to Trafalgar Square and catch the 87 bus to Clapham Junction.  So that’s what I did.

However, during the part of the bus route where you go through Vauxhall station, we came across a dire misfortune.  I’m not sure what this misfortune was, but there were some ambulances and a bunch of cops there and they had taped off the area so the bus couldn’t go down its normal lane.  This is evidenced by exhibit a:

Exhibit A: The Johnny Hoppers have roped off the bus lane.

The Johnny Hopper (cop) tells the bus driver we can’t get down the lane any time soon and to use the exceedingly thin exit turnoff lane to the right.  The bus driver stupidly agrees.  Agreeing to this rubbish suggestion was moronic for three reasons that were clear to the passengers but apparently not to the cop or the bus driver:

1. The turn off lane was exceedingly thin – too thin for a big double story london bus.
2. The turn off lane was intended for vehicles coming in the opposite direction, so the turn would have been dicey even for a car.
3. One of the Johnny Hopper’s mates had mystifyingly parked his cop car in the turn off lane, making the cops suggestion a virtual impossibility.

Nevertheless, the bus driver attempts the turn and curbs the bus, leaving it and us passengers floating over the curb.  We’re not going anywhere.  Please refer to exhibits b and c respectively for the evidence.

Exhibit B: The bus jumps the curb, lands on the curb and will be staying on the curb indefinitely.

Exhibit C: A close up of the damage. I guess you can't really tell from the photo but when the driver hits the accelerator the wheel was just spinning in the air.

Quite a conundrum.  So, some of the more capable passengers decided to get out and ponder the situation.  I have a photo of the pondering, which is evidenced by Exhibit D, but unfortunately not of their proposed solution, which was to attempt to push the bus off the curb – yes, push with their arms:

That's a 65 seat double story bus, governors. Since I don't see Huge Jackman around anywhere tonight, I'm afraid your futile attempt to push the bus off the curb is bound for failure. The bus has camped for the night.

Eventually, the cop comes around and tells everyone to clear off.  He’s not particularly impressed with the situation.  That’s the second separate accident outside Vauxhall station in the same night and now he has to deal with them both.  Some people eh?

Johnny Hopper sprays the bus driver and suggests in no uncertain terms that he disembark. Apparently revving the accelerator with a fury isn't wise, because if the tyre does miraculously gain traction then the bus will shoot forward (or backward) and cause yet a third accident outside Vauxhall station for the night.

Eventually, I tire of this game and decide to walk to the next bus stop and catch one of the following buses.  It has been an eventful night and I am eager to return to my lodgings to share the story with the world.

Well it seems I have finally settled into London. A job has been secured, a place has been rented and all my money has disappeared. It is very easy to spend wads of cash over here.

So, for the first fortnight in London with the exception of a few nights in Ipswich, my lodgings were quite humble indeed as is evidenced by the photograph below:

Lodgings most humble, but at a humble price.

I now however, reside in Clapham Junction. A nice enough area with most of what I’d need close enough to walk to, including work and the gym. The room I rented is a bit of a shithole going by Australian standards, but it should serve my needs for the time being. The room itself is nice enough, but very small.

The problem is there is a train line right outside my window with trains roaring past all day and all night. There is a double window that blocks out most of the noise though, which would be fine if it weren’t for the boiler room directly outside my door. The choices are to swelter through the night or to suffer the cacophonous trains passing by.

Yes, in London, the words "humble" and "expensive" do inevitably go together in the same sentence when talking about real estate.

Think hostel with your own room but the room is hot and there are lots of trains. That’s my first impressions of my new lodgings.

Gotta go help Karlos move his stuff now. Looks like I’ll be a little late.