Snapshots from Copenhagen

Back from Paris and Copenhagen and my feelings about this development are accurately summed up by this image. I do love continental Europe. Copenhagen was a dream. We stayed in an amazing flat (thanks, airnbnb!) where we assembled a number of simple pasta dishes and salads, watched cheesy films, and both read the Iliad. In the evenings we walked past the lakes to the nearest supermarket and watched the runners race past us. During the day we walked everywhere else and drank approximately 700 juices and smoothies and (in Peter's case) ginger shots that would make your eyes water. The bookshops were pretty spectacular.
Conclusio: Copenhagen is as fantastic as everyone says it is, but it also felt strangely familiar. All those apartment buildings, all those bikes, the well-designed supermarkets, the tasty bread and water. As I sat on a packed bus back to my flat in London - on a bus because the tube wasn't running to my stop and I had to take a 45 minute detour - it already felt like a dream. Exit plan: continental Europe.

On not going home

 

 I came back to London in a daze. It was six o’clock, still dark out, but the airport was packed with people. Going home. Leaving home. 

 In Vienna, we went to the Kunsthistorisches Museum and looked at the Old Masters, the Bruegel room, the Greek and Roman treasures. We went to the Jewish Museum and saw an exhibition about Richard Wagner (whom I dislike). We went to the cinema and saw Inside Llewyn Davies (good, especially the cat), The Hobbit (bad), and Computer Chess (undecided, but probably good). We ate out. We ate in. Wandered around. 

We spent New Year’s in an old farmhouse, eating raclette. I cuddled the cat. Peter cuddled the cat. We played board games. I stopped thinking about London, about my job, about being an adult. I slept for hours and hours. My only regret is not eating more bread. 

 Back in London, life continues much the same. It has taken months for me to settle into a routine, and to stop comparing life in London with life in Vienna, or Durham, or what life might be like in Edinburgh, Oslo or Bologna. I get up early, I go to bed early. My windows face east, and as I shuffle through my morning habits of Radio 3, cups of tea, wet hair and struggling with the daily absence of carrot bread, the sun rises slowly over the park. 

I leave the house at eight. I cycle to Walthamstow Central which is already busy with commuters, but not as busy as it will be ten minutes later. Unless I’m unlucky (or late), I get a seat on the tube. For the next forty or so minutes I read. My headphones block out most sound apart from the rumbling of the train and the apologies of the driver for the invariable delays. What I read: novels; books on history, occasionally on religion and philosophy; the LRB; the TLS; the Profil. Right now: Suetonius' history of the Twelve Caesars, which I love. What I listen to: Schubert; Elliott Smith; Sufjan Stevens; quiet stuff that will keep me calm when stuck in a tunnel. 

And then I’m in Knightsbridge. Eight, nine, twelve hours later I repeat my journey. I crawl into bed and read some more. I haven’t figured my evenings out yet – more often than not I miss my brothers, their easy familiarity and their pasta dishes. 

On weekends, I leave town. 

 Homesickness is odd. You can feel fine for days, weeks, and then all of a sudden it hits you and you will find yourself walking the aisles of a Spar supermarket, simply because the branding is familiar. 

 * Title from this talk at the British Museum. Ironically, I won't be able to go because I'll be in Vienna.

pink forever

Emma and Nikita have the best living room. I wish I had pink walls too.

temporary accommodation

This is my little room in Muswell Hill. When I moved to London I knew that I'd be staying in temporary accommodation for the first few months. It has been very strange to move from one furnished room to the next, knowing that I won't be staying long, when I lived in the same room for the first 24 years of my life (a room that I miss terribly). It has made settling in much harder - especially because flathunting is a gruesome, stressful experience. In a couple of days, however, I'll be moving into my first real flat. 'Real' because it's unfurnished, because I'll be living with a friend, because I didn't grow up there, because we have a tiny garden. Saying goodbye to Muswell Hill won't be easy - I've fallen hard for the neighbourhood, its houses and trees, the proximity to Alexandra Palace, seeing familiar friendly faces at the bus stop every day, the ridiculous Planet Organic with its comedy food, the ice cream parlour, the curving hilly streets, and, above all, the quietness. But I look forward to exploring a new neighbourhood, settling in, making myself at home, hunting for charity shop furniture. Walthamstow, here we come. Send me postcards, prints, embroideries and chairs! 

still busy

Life is busy. 

I had coffee and cake for lunch the other week. It was a particularly busy week, and I felt it was needed. Luckily Fernandez & Wells is close by. I enjoyed my last few days in Islington (I moved up north this weekend). Quiet green streets are the best streets.

new directions

 Every morning I take the bus from Islington to Knightsbridge (unless I'm running late). It takes me right through the centre of London and it gives me 40 minutes to read or to text my brothers on whatsapp. It's a good start to the day, a journey that I'll miss when I move to a different part of town. I get to observe brave cyclists, horses, and people working on their laptops on the bus. 

In the morning all the luxury boutiques in Knightsbridge are still closed which is a blessing. I disappear into one of the small side streets. I see the V&A (so near, yet so far), climb through a hole in the wall, and then I'm almost there, on a very quiet, very green square. From my window I can see the tip of Harrods, all lit up at night. 

As far as commutes go, this is a good one.

bright as yellow

 

Yellow, my favourite colour, is everywhere. It's one of my favourite things about Vienna. I must say that walking around Vienna for a week with friends from out of town really made me see everything in a new light.
I've finally finished Anna Karenina, and I'm looking forward to the next month. Christmas, new books, friends, Britain, yes.

My brother and I bought almost identical coats, by accident, of course. Finding each other in a crowd is now much easier.

reunited with my scanner (part 5)

  My immediate neighbourhood in Vienna. These are from when I went home back in March. It was very warm which was strange because the trees were still bare. I've been walking to work lately because my bike is broken and I can't figure out what's wrong with it. This has turned out to be a blessing in disguise: I've been discovering new parts of town, strange bits and pieces that I don't really see when I'm on my bike, which in turn has led me to rediscover everything that I love best about this city. I'm still used to walking everywhere anyway, and it's a good habit. If there's one positive thing about the near-constant bad weather in Durham it is that I am now happy to be outside in any weather as long as it's not raining sideways.

We packed all of my things into my brother's car. I didn't believe it could be possible, but we managed it. I put some clothes into a bagpack and left the house for the last time. The next morning, we took a train South. I do really like St. Albans. I love the cathedral and the quiet streets, I like the birds and the Roman heritage. It's a good place for rainy Sundays. Soon, we were off to Paris.