The BIG day

So, it is now official: I am old. And trust me, after a weekend of playing Wii, my body really feels old too. I can hardly move.

Thus, in celebration of Mondays, here is an old time favourite of mine:



The rest of the day will - surprise, surprise - be spent in the library...

Friday 20/6 part two

After having enjoyed the view from the Church of the Redeemer, we went on to the Church of the holy Sepulcher, which was the thing Tim really wanted to see.

It was rather strange, because I had assumed the church would be much more extravagant, but it was quite modest, at least the exterior, as you can see. The interior was quite varied, but heavily inspired by the Greek orthodox monks that take care of it. We walked around the church, and had a look at the (assumed) shrine of Christ. I felt a bit religious (or rather unworthy for not being more so), while Tim liked the historical aspects of it. I partly regretted not having done enough research on forehand, as there were many parts of the church I/we didn't know anything abouts: caves, shrines, holy cracks (!), altars etc. But it was a great experience.

After having seen the holy Sepulcher we decided it was time for lunch. We found a falafel bar in the bazaar area. Good food, but we were completely ripped off when it came to paying. Oh well, we just had to live with that. Everything else had been very cheap, and if that was the worst that would happen, then that would be ok.

Stuffed with yummy falafels and fresh orange juice we went down to the Western wall (aka ‘the Wailing wall’, see earlier post). It was the first place where we actually met some serious security (apart from the airport, of course). There was bag searches and metal detectors. Once in the area by the wall, I was lent a shawl. I thought I was covered (pun not intended) with a basic t-shirt (no cleavage) and shorts that went over my knees, but apparently women had to cover their arms as well (unclean as we are...). I, unknowingly, tried to enter the men's area (women on one side men on the other), but finally made it there. Tim started chatting to a rabbi by his part of the wall. In the end the rabbi gave (read: sold) us two pieces of red string that had touched the holy wall, and hoped we would be blessed with five children! The strings were tied around our wrists (very Madonna). Tim, however, removed his after a while, not knowing if it had any distinctive social connotations. So, I assume we'll only get 2,5 children now. (Which, to be frank, sounds a lotter better than 5! But we are still debating whether that half will be a midget or not.)

Although the Western Wall was impressive, we were in the midday sun, and it was too hot for us. We tried hiding in the shadows of the bazaars, while aiming for the Dome of the Rock. Unfortunately, all access was denied. I think we came mid prayer. Instead, we went for the thing I wanted to do, which was walking part of the Via Dolorosa. It felt a bit ambitious doing all fourteen stations of the cross and, as it soon turned out, some of them were quite hard to discover, but we aimed for a few of them. We managed to do the first few, but then got terribly lost. The Old town has so many tiny alleyways and unnamed streets, and none of them were straight. I think Tim was a it more worried than me - didn't want to end up in any 'bad' areas or so, but I was absolutely calm. As long as you look like a (Christian) tourist you are ok. Finally, we managed to 'get back on track', as we discovered a sign saying we were by the ninth station. Went in to a Coptic monastery, and had a look at some excavations of the really old Jerusalem.

After all this walking, we headed back to central town and the bus station. It was one of the warmest days so far – the taxi driver on the way back said it was 44 degrees outside, and we were absolutely exhausted when we got on the coach. We had been told that Jerusalem would be absolutely dead by three o'clock, because of the Shabbat, but there was still loads of people around (and several open stores) when we jumped on the coach at four. We now headed to Rehovot, a small town between Jerusalem and Tel Aviv, where we met Tim's friend Dror (Israeli jew) and his wife Magda (Polish catholic). We spent the night at their place, playing with their three-year-old son (who really fancied Tim), eating incredible amounts of food and drinking some very nice Israeli wine and Polish vodka! It didn't take a second to fall asleep that night.

Birthday memories

On this day, four years ago, Tim asked my father for my hand in marriage. The ring he gave me was meant to be for my birthday, but he was too afraid to do it in front of my entire family, who was coming up for the day. So I got the ring (and thus my birthday present) two days early.

This year, I got it early too. I just got a Wii from Tim for my 30th birthday, two days early. There are several reasons for this: 1) the Wii console had to be bought when they had some in stock, 2) I guessed what it was, and Tim couldn't lie to me, and 3) I really like to play some before I go on holiday on Tuesday.

So, early happy birthday to me, and happy engagement anniversary to us! It has been four great years!

Sorry, no updates today. Have been working like crazy on the thesis. (370 pages and counting... and that does not include the appendices.)

Met Tim and some of his colleagues after work for a glass of wine, and fell asleep straight away when I got home at ten. Two hours later: Tim comes to bed, and I am now wide awake...

Tomorrow, back to the library, and then off to Stockwell to sort out keys and all sort of things to do with the new flat.

Friday 20/6 part one

This was the big day of adventures. We had already decided to devote this day to Jerusalem. We had been offered to use the Firm’s driver, but instead chose to take the local bus to save some money. Jerusalem is about one hour’s drive south east from Tel Aviv, and the bus trip for both of us was only 31 Shekels (=£5) – quite a bargain! The journey was quite pleasant (ah, air-conditioning!) and we got to see some of the landscape. It is quite different further in the country, being up in the mountains it is much less humid and a lot greener (someone told me that 60% of the country is made up by desert). We arrived at the bus station in Jerusalem in the late morning. (And now encountered more of the well known Israeli security – the city was full of soldiers and bag searches and metal detectors when going into shops.) We tried to get another bus to the Old City, but it turned out to be rather complicated. Orthodox jews are not allowed to travel at Shabbat, and since that was quickly coming up they all travelled now. Having saved money on the bus trip, we chose to take a taxi. After some confusing discussions with the taxi driver, he dropped us off at Jaffa Gate, one of the gates of the Old City.

We strolled through some of the bazaars. Here was the kind of things that I wanted to see… Loads of carpets, and bowls and jewellery – very touristy, but that was quite expected. On our way to the Church of the Holy Sepulchre (which was the one thing Tim really wanted to see), we stumbled upon the Church of the Redeemer. The church itself was very simple, but had a very tall bell tower. Climbing up was quite an expedition. We were both completely out of breath (and later on we would also walk around with cramps in our calves), but the view was absolutely amazing (breathtaking, ha ha!). You could see all of Jerusalem in all directions. The view of the Dome of the Rock was of course the most impressive:

Thursday 19/6

Tim, poor man, had to get up early today, having a meeting scheduled in Jerusalem. I spent an extra two hours in bed (so much space to myself, I almost got agoraphobia) and then enjoying the breakfast and the view again. Decided that my red burn had gone down enough for me to be brave and go down to the beach. Spent an hour there, before deciding I didn’t want to risk it. Midday sun and Scandinavian skin (especially one that haven’t been in the sun for over two years) is not a great combination. So, went back up to the hotel room, enjoyed some free chocolate and fruit (great lunch!) and wrote the blog posts for the first two days (because of Tim’s paper we had to bring a laptop, which occasionally was a bit stressful as it reminded me about the writing I should have been doing). Unfortunately internet access was rather expensive, so thus the actual posting had to wait.

At around two I decided the sun was less bright (!?) and went back to the beach, well prepared with water and sunscreen (and also some work related papers which I never even looked at).
Enjoyed the sun and the sea till about 17.30, when I returned to the hotel to shower off some of the salt. Discovered in the bathroom mirror that I had completely burnt my back. Not a great surprise, really, since it was quite hard to put sunscreen on by myself. Tim came back at the same time, and was absolutely terrified to see it! Oh well, didn’t care about the back. The more embarrassing was my bright red left ear! How can one burn one ear?

We were originally going to go to a dinner with a client in Jerusalem, but it was cancelled. Instead, I pushed Tim into ordering room service. I know it’s pathetic (and not very special), but in my head that is the height of luxury (what can I say? I’m quite a simple person). Had the best hummus I had ever had! (Also some really good sea bass, but that sort of gets forgotten in comparison.)

We had been suggested to go to Jaffa in the evening, but in the lobby we started chatting to a man who instead recommended a music festival in town. Said and done, we took a taxi to one of the main boulevards. It was quite magic. We strolled down the green street, listening to different artists/groups/performers. The evening was dark and warm, but not unpleasantly humid. Lots of people in the streets, and some good music. It was the first time we saw Tel Aviv as the lively and rather liberal it is.

And yes, I have now learnt to say goodbye. Very simple: 'Shalom'! And after all the walking I have done, I have also picked up the word for 'street': 'rehov'. Very useful!

Wednesday 18/6

We both decided to have a bit of a sleep in today. After breakfast Tim left for the office, and I relaxed in the hotel. Took a long bath and pampered myself. I had burnt myself quite badly the day before. I thought I had put sunscreen on all of my body, but obviously not. The lower parts of my arms as well as my chest (but not neck!) were bright red, and so was a big stripe at the top of my forehead. Very attractive! Well, with this in mind, I did not particularly want to go out in the midday sun. Took a taxi to the Firm at 12.30, and had lunch with Tim and one of the managers, a very friendly woman, originally from the States. We ate in Georgian (!) restaurant, which was quite an experience. (If you ever eat Georgian, opt for things with eggplant, do not chose the chicken.) But it was good!

I walked back to the hotel, since everyone said it was not very far, and that Tel Aviv was really pretty and clean. Well… Tel Aviv is quite difficult to describe. I didn’t realize that the city was so young (first houses built in 1909), and the architecture is very varied. The city is connected to Jaffa, the old port, so there’s a part of town which is old. Some of the buildings are amazing, but most of them are falling to pieces. And brand new buildings are next to ones without windows and where the render is falling down. In all of it many Bauhaus, and further out a few French colonial style houses. The city is a rather strange (but not unpleasant) mix of middle eastern and (European) Mediterranean. I wouldn’t call the city clean, though. (And it scares me that I have not yet seen the parts that are considered dirty.) But where it is pretty, it is really nice. On the walk back, I passed a rather nice and green pedestrian area, as well as Hakarmel, one of the biggest markets. I was a bit disappointed though, because they only sold clothes (mainly t-shirts and underwear) and food. I wanted to see carpets, jewellery and pots and such things. Well, we have saved the flea market in old Jaffa for Sunday. My walk back to the hotel took me one hour and 45 mins! My greatest success along the way, was me being able to buy a bottle of Sprite, using my two words of Hebrew, some Spanish (!) and a piece of paper. I thought the man in the stall looked nice and friendly, which was why I chose to approach him. But he really surprised me by talking to me in Spanish. My basic tourist Spanish should have been enough, but it really took me by surprise when the ‘Shalom’ was followed by a ‘Que tal?’. Anyway, I got to use my word of the day, which was ‘toda’, meaning ‘thank you’. It is probably spelt completely differently, and I have also heard other versions, but it is a start. Tomorrow I am aiming to find out what ‘good bye’ is. It is really strange to be in a country where the language is so different. Tim is a lot more used to Hebrew than I am, but he is rather lost too. Together we are normally quite good at working out things in strange languages, but here, well, it is different. Even going to Paris last autumn I managed to get by on my combination of classical Latin, some tourist Spanish, and a good knowledge on etymology. Here it is impossible to even guess, since we can’t even read the words. It’s quite fascinating.

Tim got back to the hotel about half an hour after me, having spent most of the afternoon meeting collectors and dealers. We went to afternoon tea again, and then down to the beach. I never thought this would happen, since I know that Tim really dislikes open waters and is extremely terrified of sharks. But we went for a swim together, and the water was absolutely amazing! Turquoise and clear, and smooth sand. We walked along the beach for a while, enjoying the pleasant afternoon winds. (It is, by the way, terribly hot here, and the summer hasn’t even started yet! It is about 34° C, but humid and, well, quite unpleasant in the sun.) Afterwards, we had a shower, a very quick light dinner, before rushing down to the lobby to meet one of Tim’s clients. The man, originally from Brooklyn, was very nice, and we spent the rest of the evening in the bar with him. I was a bit nervous, because I had heard that he was orthodox. The orthodox jews have several customs and traditions that are rather ‘peculiar’ (bad choice of word, I know) to westerners; among other things men are not allowed to touch women (as we apparently are unclean) or look them in the eyes. So, what do you do if you cannot shake hands? Of course it all depends on the level of orthodoxy, but this man was liberal enough, and very social although a lot of the conversation was manuscript related. Tim and I ended the evening with a stroll around the area.

Tuesday 17/6

Our first day in Israel. It feels like the longest day of our lives. Like three days rolled into one. Left home at about 19 on the Monday evening. A taxi picked us up, we took a rather long detour via the Firm to collect the property we were going to bring, and then off to Heathrow. It went surprisingly smooth there. I, who had never done this before, thought it would take forever to go through customs (we had to declare the manuscripts and fill in tons of paper), but they were friendly and efficient. We tried being overly nice to the girl at the check in counter, to see if she would bump me up, so I could travel with Tim, but no luck there. We had dinner and some wine, and then rushed off to the gate. (And I managed to squeeze in the quickest tax free shopping of my life – a perfume.)

Boarding at the gate, the alarms went off and red lamps started blinking when they put my ticket through. I panicked a bit inside – I have experienced before security reacting to my name (there’s always something wrong. I made a really bad choice there. The combination of a Swedish ‘ö’, a hyphen and the longest name on the planet is not to be recommended). But I tried to act cool… Well, seems the girl at the check-in counter had listened to us, because I had been upgraded! Fair enough, I was not in first class with Tim, but they had put me in World traveller class plus (whatever that means, but it was definitely one up from the sheep at the back)! Wohooo! It couldn’t have been a better start to the trip!

I said bye to Tim and sat down in my super duper wide seat (and had two entire rows to myself!), and just enjoyed feeling special. Tim, at his end, worked for an hour (he had still not written the paper he was supposed to give), and then came to say good night to me before he went to sleep (he did after all, have a proper bed!). I, on the other hand, enjoyed loads of nice, free wine, and watched a movie. They had so many good movies to choose from that I had a hard time picking one. In the end, I decided to opt for one that Tim would never want to see with me, so I watched ‘the da Vinci code’. I also felt it would be quite a good theme, since we were off to the Holy Land. (And yes, the movie was rubbish.)

I did not sleep at all. When the movie was over, it was only one hour left of the flight. I did try and go to sleep, but every time I lent to the side, I accidentally touched the button that turned on my TV screen, and well, not long after the crew started announcing that we were about to land. We landed at 5.30 local time – 3.30 in England! I have never been so tired. And did I feel old!? I could definitely tell I am no longer a teenager, able to stay up all night. Tim looked just as bad, despite his 2-3 hours of sleep.

Well, we got the manuscripts through the Israeli customs as well, without any problems. The passport woman was amazingly rude to me, but what goes around comes around, I hope. (I was being asked all imaginable questions, why was I here, who did I know, where did they live etc etc.)

A car from the Firm picked us up, and drove us to the office, where a member of staff met us, and put the manuscripts in a safe. Then off to the hotel, finally. And man, are we talking hotel or what?! It the best hotel I have ever stayed in, and the same goes for Tim! They seemed to have bumped us up here as well, because we ended up on the Executive Floor. Amazing room, with the biggest bed I have ever seen, and pillows to die for (forget Wingnut and Stevo, this is a completely different league). Not to mention the view from the balcony: all of southern Tel Aviv, the marina, Old Jaffa, and the never ending sea. And then we were being showed up to the top floor – the Executive Lounge. Here they serve breakfast, snacks, afternoon tea, light dinner, and drinks – all inclusive. And the top floor of course have a panoramic view that is absolutely breath taking! We knew we would like it here!

We had a two hour nap (Tim just half of that, since he still had to finish his paper), before getting up to have breakfast. Tim then left for work, and I went back to sleep! At lunchtime, I went for a walk along the beach, down to the Opera Tower (see photo) and then the backstreets back to the hotel. All in all, the walk took about an hour and a half. When I got back, Tim was already back from the office, asleep in bed. I sat on the balcony, enjoying the girly magazine I had brought from England. Tim slept for about two hours, before we went off to the top floor for some afternoon tea, and then headed off to the Firm again. Tim gave his lecture, and was a great success, although it was not as big an audience as expected. Afterwards a few of us went out for a drink in the area, which was the oldest part of town, and rather pretty. Fell asleep within seconds once we got back to the hotel. Our body clocks being completely ruined.

In Jerusalem

Quick one, now that we are safe back from strange territory (but very tired). A proper report will follow, but in the meantime:

At the Wailing Wall: Where's Waldo (aka Tim)?

Quote of the day

Alright, I am cheating. Tim didn't say this today, but a few days back. But I thought it was worth a post:

-Every day is a day of discovery for me. A day spent discovering things. I’m like a child. And then I forget them straight away, so that I can discover them again tomorrow.

Ah, so much wisdom from such a small brain!

Sweet things, part two

As with most normal couples (I believe) Tim and I occasionally argue. Less now than a few years back, when we were still learning about each other. Anyway, after one argument (I cannot remember what it was about, but I am sure it was something really stupid, it mostly is), Tim went in to the bathroom, and when he came out again, this is what I found:




His robe was hugging my robe. How could I not smile to that?!

Odd things in Norway that I do not miss, part 2

One of the things I definitely do not miss from living in Norway is the ladies’ toilets on the top floor of my office building on campus. The windows allowed the light to beam in all day, at the same time as the lights in the ceiling were particularly unforgiving. Looking in the mirrors was always bad. If you didn’t wear makeup you looked like a ghost on a good day. Wearing makeup you looked like a hooker (no matter how much or how little you wore). Nothing could ruin a good day like the mirrors on the 6th floor!

Odd things in Norway that I do not miss, part 1

One of the things I really missed in Norway was good grocery stores. I heard rumours that there were some - but as with everything else in Norway, it was out in absolute nowhere. No car meant no shopping. (And if you would actually find one, there was no way you could afford anything anyway.) When visiting Tim in Cambridge/Ely/Catford going to Sainsbury's or Tesco was one of the highlights!

I am still just as excited going to the grocery store as I was back then. I just love the selection of food; all the exotic products, the weird local dishes, the scary looking pre-fab stuff. And the fact that you can buy alcohol in a normal store thrills the Lutheran Swede in me.

Sweet things, part one

So, right now I am hopefully in Tel Aviv, enjoying the sun and the pool. (And if you've heard anything about hijacked planes or so, well, then you shouldn't be on this blog anyway but rather check out CNN or the BBC.) So, a few posts I had saved up...

In Oslo, I would occasionally force Tim to go out with the garbage (which was in the back yard of our housing complex, visible from our kitchen). One snowy day, when I forced him out, he did this for me, beneath our window:

It made me feel terribly guilty, but also very loved!

Off to Israel

I am pretty sure it will be quite a stressful day today. We are mostly packed, just waiting for the last few things we washed last night to dry. Hopefully a couple of hours in the sun will do the trick.

I will try and write a few more pages. I am sooo close to finishing my last chapter. But I am afraid I will not make it before we leave. Ah, just a few pages left - so annoying, but nothing I can do about it, really. Tim's going to print off some of my chapters, so that I can do some proofreading on the beach (isn't life tough?!), but I am not brining a laptop.

But do not despair. I will not leave you without anything to read. The wonders of the internet has allowed me to prepare a few posts for you while I'm away, so make sure to pop in, and you'll get a bunch of personal posts that I have saved up. (And if I get the chance to get to a computer, I might just try and write a few lines. But photos will come later.)

Ciao for now!

Social day

Not a very efficient day today. Worked about an hour this morning and did the laundry. Then went with Tim to Anna's in Catford (south London). Had a nice day out there. Anna had made roast chicken and couscous salad and an amazing cheesecake, and we drank way too many bottles of wine. As always it took absolutely forever to get back home (is that a trap? easy to get there, hell to go back?) but then spent the rest of the evening preparing for the trip tomorrow. Don't fly out until 22.30, but have to be there early, especially since Tim has to go through customs with a bunch of expensive manuscripts (thus his first class ticket). Looking forward to the trip, but quite stressed about not having done everything I should. And Tim hasn't written his paper yet... It might be a stressful day tomorrow!

PS. Happy English father's day, dad!

Late updates

A bit of a late update today. Spent all the in the Library (what's new? when was last time I didn't do that?), and Tim had to work too (write his paper for Tel Aviv). We also worked out that Peter and Elena will be away for the rest of the summer every time we are in town and vice versa. So decided to meet up with them after the library. Since Peter was out in Cambridge, we had to find some way of entertaining ourselves first. So, spent two hours in the Irish pub across the street (I like it because the serve Swedish Kopparberg's cider, and Tim, well, likes it because it's close). Tim read his book on Jewish manuscripts and I watched the football game. First time in years I watch a game, and all I get is to see Sweden lose to Spain. Pathetic! (And I now know why I prefer hockey - football is so slow!) Met Peter and Elena, and went to a really weird Indian vegetarian restaurant behind Euston station. My food ('Masala Dosa') looked liked mashed potatoes, spiced with something very yellow and wrapped up in paper (and basically tasted like it, too). And I normally love Indian food. Quite disappointing! So, today's lessons: Indian food should be traditional (but if you want something strange, go to 'Chutney') and ice hockey is more fun to watch than football.

Upset!

I was supposed to leave for the Library, but got too upset. I'm not the kind of person who would normally fight for women's rights and all that (although I of course believe in equality, including same salaries), but this just made me really shocked (screenshot from Hewlett Packard's homepage, UK edition):


Yes, maybe it is just me being silly and over-sensitive, but a laptop that is designed for mobile enthusiasts, students, small home office and professional women??? What? Professional women wants different laptops than professional men? And professional women have the same needs as students? Sorry, but that is just ridiculous!

Updates

Didn't get too much done yesterday, but managed to send in the corrections to my next article as well as downloading loads of podradio for the Israel trip (for the interested: all episodes of 'Sommar i P1' from last year). And discovered that the Swedish broadcasting network has loads of TV-series out on the web. Yeah! Last time I tried to watch, it wouldn't let me since I was outside the country, but apparently that was just because I wanted to watch hockey?! Sports = not ok. Other things = ok. I can live with that!

Now on to see what Friday the 13th has to bring...

No news = good news?

I'm sorry, but it'll probably be rather depressing to read this blog for the rest of this week. I am sooo ready just to give everything up, throw out all my books and papers, and start working in a coffee shop! I am uninspired, constantly tired, and well, just basically all the bad things.

Had dinner and a beer in the Green man and French horn last night (strange name for a pub: just makes me think of the Green giant, maybe he has given up on corn and peas!?), one of Tim's favourite places close to Charing Cross (I think it's an ok place, but cannot for the world see its greatness). He had been in an antique book shop before we met up, so I ended up buying him a very early birthday present (it's in December, btw). We should probably have saved the money, and buying 20+ books just before moving is probably not the greatest idea, but I could see how excited he was about it. (It was an almost complete set of the last edition of the Doomesday Book.) Well, it made him happy, and now I can ignore his birthday!

Slow morning

Amazingly slow morning today. Not that it was that late last night - Tim's department has a new intern from NY, so we all had dinner at C's place. (Having an intern is a big thing for them, since they are one of the smallest departments in the Firm. It's actually only the two of them [3,5 at a push if you count their consultant, and C's daughter, who was basically born into it, and me, who can do their Dutch manuscripts] unlike, say modern art who are 40!)

We were home already at 22, and Tim was sweet and let me watch the end of 'Love actually' on TV, which happens to be one of my favourite movies. There are so many heartwarming stories in it.

But I just can't sleep. And when I do, I just have stress dreams. It's just a combination of everything, I think. But perhaps the pressure of this last chapter is to blame the most. I have planned to send it in on Monday, before heading to Tel Aviv, so that I can actually enjoy the holiday without feeling overly stressed. Tim is really trying to be supportive, and I feel so sorry for being such a burden for him at the moment. I just can't tell you how much I want this to be over!!! Well... off to the Library then.

Breakfasts

I have a new breakfast habit. I think it goes back to my early years of eating “Start” every morning (which, according to a rumor is sold at ‘Scandinavian Kitchen’), probably thanks to my father. But after my year in Wakefield any sort of cereal was just a big NO. I ate a yogurt with some crunchy cereal topping for every lunch in school for a whole year. After that, it took me almost three years before I could even look at yogurts again (and I still can’t manage to eat the really thick French ones). I’ve occasionally tried cornflakes and such just because it’s simple breakfast food. I normally find breakfasts incredibly boring, un-inspiring and stressful (most mornings anyway). And I hardly ever have breakfast with Tim, since he gets up about an hour before me (I guess I could get up at the same time, but he’s even worse than me, and doesn’t eat at all, so why bother?! And he also spends all morning in front of Spongebob Squarepants, which annoys the hell out of me.) Anyway, one day about six months ago, Tim came home with a box of Jordan’s Country Crisp (British oat and barley clusters, as it says on the box). He thought it looked like something I would like. Oh, how well he knows me! Oddly enough, I have been eating these more or less every morning every since. Admittedly, I vary between the raspberry and strawberry variants (strawberry being the better one, but I'm too afraid of only eating one kind), but I actually still enjoy them. I’m now just waiting for the day my body suddenly says ‘stop’, and the bare look of them will make me feel sick. But in the meantime, I almost enjoy breakfasts. And with my coffee, it is a real treat!

Google

Sometime ago, rather a long time ago when I think about it, Tim and I were googling ourselves. It was when Tim's mum was here, and we did it in an attempt to teach her how to use the internet. However, it soon turned into an ego-thing. Tim's name obviously gave more hits (it is, after all, not all that uncommon), but mine gave more hits on me personally.

The scary thing about googling my name, though, was that you also got up an article from a Swedish newspaper (or tabloid, rather) on a woman with my (unmarried) name, who had left her abusive husband (good for her!) and now lived in a dump (not so good!). Since I know how I occasionally google other people to see what they are up to, or get contact details or whatever (I'm not a stalker, promise!), I'm sure someone probably googles me every once in a blue moon (or at least I hope so, otherwise it's rather depressing). So what if someone googles me, sees this article (and has a look at that rather scary looking woman in her dump), and thinks that's me?! Frightening!

Googling Tim (in combination with the words 'medieval' or 'middle ages' or similar) gave the amazing hit "evil with an animal face"! Ha ha ha!

Cats and birds

The neighbour has two cats, and those are probably the things I will miss the most when we move. Whenever we open the back door, at least one of them will walk in. Their desire to hang out in our flat, rather than with their owner (and her mad dog) even make them squeeze in through the metal bars of the windows.

The fluffy one, Ash, really enjoys sleeping on our bed for a few (read: eight or nine) hours every day. Preferably on Tim's side (which I don't mind, since he leaves behind big clouds of thin fur). Occasionally, we are naughty and give them pieces of ham or fish, or whatever we are having to eat. (Yes, we know we shouldn't, but we are so weak!) So, after us being overly nice, you think you would get something back, and that they could at least do their catly duties. But no. The black birds keep screeching outside, loud enough to wake up the dead. And the cats couldn't care less! I now put my hopes to the squirrels, and that one of them will, if not giving them rabies then at least eat their babies... I'm evil, but I like my sleep!

Action-filled Saturday

We had a good time last night, meeting my Danish friend Eva at the Glasshouse stores on Brewer street, on the outskirts of Soho (closest tube being Piccadilly circus). It's not an impressive pub in any way, but it's friendly enough, central and quite cheap (they do their own ales). Always a good combination. Tim argues it's an old drinking club (from the good old days when drinking in London was rather limited), because of its huge basement area. It was really nice to catch up with Eva, who has finally got a job in London! (Which, indeed, is more than I can say about myself.)

After making sure she got on the right bus to Hammersmith, at about 23.30, we got on the number 12 going the other way. At Westminster bridge the bus driver closed the doors before a man on crutches made it off. He was understandably rather upset, and several people (including hubby) shouted at the driver. But no, the bus had started moving, and there was nothing else to do, than for the bloke to get off at the next stop (at the Cut, one stop from us). However, the man on crutches was now rather upset, and once on the pavement put one of his crutches between the doors of the bus, so that they wouldn't close. He then started to scream a lot, in Polish, as it were (Tim could, however, still recognize the c-word!). Turns out that his best mate was drunk and asleep at the end of the bus. So he was now swearing at the driver, as well as at his mate. And the bus could not move... After a few minutes an Asian guy got really upset, and went to the door to tell the Polish guy to back off and let the bus drive away. Ooooh, tension tension! A lot of very not so pretty words were exchanged, before Tim decided to join the discussion. And I'm glad he has the experience from the pub he ran to handle drunk people, and that he is quite big, because they both soon backed off, before any physical action took place. I was rather shocked, but everybody made a joke about it, thinking the guy in the back really deserved to wake up in Dulwich, which is in absolutely nowhere!

Spent an hour in front of Galaxy Quest before going to bed. Quite an action-filled evening, after all.

Lazy day

I had great plans for the day. Getting up early, being efficient in the library... But no. A long evening out with Tim and C last night stopped me from getting up early, and well, the rest of the day went on in the same, slow pace. (We went to the American Bar, which is a great little oasis close to Green Park, probably very pricey, though, but worth a visit if you [or the people you're going with] have the money.) I thought I could sit at home and work, but I should have known better by now. It is absolutely impossible to work from home, especially with Tim wanting to watch TV (Porridge and other 'great' series), and I decide it would be a good idea to work in bed... No, not so great.

But at least I think I've managed to tweak enough with the blog to remove all the weird line spacing that has occurred in my posts lately (sorry about that). I'm still not sure what I did (some Html editing, I have really very little idea of how that works), but at least it looks great on my screen.

Hm, I feel there's more 'beyond' and very little 'London' on this blog. Hopefully, some London reports will follow tomorrow, since we are meeting Eva and Hugh tonight for drinks in Soho.

All sorts of things

Tim is almost back to normal now, although still not strong enough to even look at the smoked salmon we have in the fridge. Poor man! (And may I add, the comments about him not feeling well a few nights ago had absolutely nothing to do with the bad oyster!)

Feel quite guilty today for not calling my parents back last night. Sorry, mum! But hope that you all enjoy the National Day! Grattis, Sverige! (Flag from 3DFlags.com)

Have tried to do some correspondence this morning. I hate work related e-mails, I struggle finding the balance between professional and personal.

Anyway, Tim is rather upset about my telling all you readers about the sweet things he said yesterday (and all other days, for that matter), especially about the army of chicks. He wants to be cool and macho. I even offered him to be the king of Fluffyland, but it wasn't good enough. So now he gets to be the king of whatever rock hard, macho, metal, tough land he can think of. (But prefereably without an army that can beat mine.)

Morning updates

Tim was a lot better today. And luckily the red rashes in his face had gone down (not very attractive). (We worked out it must have been Scombroid poisoning.) He was really sweet this morning, telling me how good I had been for coming home early to look after him (I didn’t tell him it had anything to do with my writer’s block) and called me a princess and all sorts of sweet things. And then he went on to tell me that I was the princess of Fluffyland, living in a squidgy castle. And that my army was made up by chicks with q-tips… I quietly wondered what good they would do me if I was invaded. I mean, all you have to do is to stamp on them. But Tim claimed they would be brilliant if I was ever invaded by centipedes! And maybe he’s right – in Fluffyland.

Tough day

Poor hubby got food poisoned today... (What is it with him and seafood?!?) I felt really, really sorry for him. But he was brave and tried to see it from the bright side (a few hours later, all spent over the john), and claimed that he was sure he had dropped one size in trousers.

I stared in panic at my computer screen all day, hoping in vain that something from my brain (preferably something clever) would jump over to the screen and magically finish the chapter from hell. Surprisingly enough, it did not work. I think we both wanted to die today.

Men...

Men and their 'diseases'… Conversation from last night:

- I think I’m coming down with some sort of illness.
- Oh yeah?
- Mmmm, my tummy is not doing too well.
- Well, you know, it could be the six pickled onions you ate just before we went to bed.
- Hm, yeah, you might be right.

(Of course! I’m always right!)

Pillows

In bed Tim uses the really nasty kind of English pillows: long, thin and filled with some strange synthetic material. I use the classic, Scandinavian style pillows – more square-shaped and filled we feathers. Occasionally we fight over the pillows (and trust me, I am not an evil person, but has offered to buy a pillow for Tim as well, but no, he just wants mine). Last night was one of those occasions. When I went to bed after Tim, he had stolen two of my pillows (I use three), and was holding on to them very hard.

– Can I have my pillows back, please?
– No!
– Alright, why not?
– Because Stevo and Wingnut don’t like you.
– Eh, what?
– Yeah, that’s their names. Stevo and Wingnut.
– No, I already had names for them.
– Yeah, sure. What then?
– Pillow one and pillow two.
– You see, that’s why they don’t like you. You treat them like robots. They don’t like to be diminished to numbers. They even have last names!
– Ok? What are they then?
– Eh, Stevo pillow and, er, eh, Wingnut pillow.
– So they are related?
– Yeah, they’re brothers. But different dads. That’s why they are different colours. [Yes, two different pillow cases.]

So, what does one reply to reasoning like that? I decided Tim could keep Stevo and Wingnut, but instead I stole Cinderella and Sandy, the two duvets…

We have such mature and intellectual conversations!

Housing updates

We have now been and inspected the flat, and accepted. It’s not perfect but we are not looking for anything permanent anyway. This is for 12-18 months. It needs some fixing up (a lot of chipped wall paint), but that can be easily done (and they have offered to pay for the paint if we do the job). I don’t like the bathroom (tiny!), but Tim is more than happy. There’s a large bath tub, but no shower! Tim has very much missed having a bath, and I guess it’ll be possible to install something on the wall to hang the shower head from. Other than that, it’s more or less like the bathroom we have right now. Small and damp. But I have sort of given up on English bathrooms. They are clearly not a big priority here! (Also, it came with the obligatory enormous spider! What is it with bathrooms and spiders in this country?)

Well, what else? Tim absolutely hates the carpeting, which he though was like a ‘public library’ (i.e. cheap and made to endure most things). I didn’t mind so much. We agreed that a few rugs from IKEA would do the trick. On the positive side is a lot of storage space (Tim has already planned to have a wine cellar). The kitchen is, well, a kitchen! Finally we’ll be able to cook again! There’s a proper stove and not a little cheap hob. The kitchen is open towards the living room, with a low partition wall. There’s still only half a fridge (and basically no freezer), but in addition we get a dishwasher. Hooray! Tim claims he will miss the large mirror we have over the mantel piece in our present living room, but that can be bought; at least the living room in the new flat has a fire place that haven’t been blocked off. And the living room is nice and spacious.

The flat is completely furnished. The bookcases are really cheap, horrible things from IKEA, which is actually a good thing as it means they will be easy to take to pieces and put in a cupboard, and thus room for all the bookcases we already have. I’m a little worried about the bed(s), because they are not proper doubles, but rather the kind of one-and-a-half size that we had in Oslo. But we will work around that. Either we get a bed each (yes, we have two bedrooms!!!), or we will see if it possible to get rid of one of them and buy a bigger one. (Or it’ll become a great reason to go on a diet and slim down a bit!?)

The flat is a lot bigger than the one we’re in at the moment. And it comes without an insane landlady. It’s a basement flat, but it’s quite bright, and no way down to the flat from the house (which is an especially bad thing to have in combination with the aforesaid crazy landlady). We now get a guest room/office and are allowed to have as many guests as we want to, without having to ask for permission! There’s a garden behind the house, but unfortunately no access from the flat (we have, however, been promised that we can knock on their door if we ever want to access the garden but I’m not sure I will be completely comfortable with that). The area is nice and green though.

The flat is in Stockwell (or Saint Ockwell, which Tim likes to call it), which is in zone 2, south west London, on the Victoria and Northern Line. It is a five min. walk to the tube, or 15 minutes to Vauxhall (so if we want to save money, we can walk there, which is zone 1 and cheaper to travel from). Stockwell per se is not the nicest place on earth, but the part where we’ll be living is a conservation area, and really pretty. It is also close to loads of restaurants and things, so it’s not out in nowhere. The rent is £25 more per month than we pay at the moment, and includes heating and water, so it won’t be a dramatic change to our finances.

We got the place through friends – it’s a colleague of Tim’s who owns the house (our toast master, for those of you who were at the wedding), and admittedly we are slightly scared of renting from friends again. But they are nice and quiet people (bedtime at 21.00!), and since they work together quite frequently, it is in everyone’s interest that it works out. I think a little bit of fixing up, and moving around of the furniture, and it’ll be a great home. We can’t wait!

Coffee

I am really addicted to coffee. The super duper espresso machine which Tim bought me for Christmas hasn't really made things any better. (Largely inspired by the wonderful coffee maker Laura and Gerry introduced me to last summer.) I know some of you have already heard this a trillion times before, but my coffee machine is really worth it's weight in gold!

It's funny, though, because Nespresso has this thing for making themselves seem more exclusive than they actually are. You get to join 'the Nespresso club' (wow! yet another club for me!), can order special fancy looking containers for their coffee pods etc. They even do special editions of coffee! This season it's Goroka. I thought it was amazingly silly when I first saw it, but then... The coffee is sooo good, not made any worse by the fact that the coffee pods come in a lovely shade of dusty pink (the princess inside me is cheering!). I confess to having bought large quantities! However, when they also sell matching coffee cups just for the limited edition coffee, well, that feels like going too far. Or maybe it's just me not being exclusive enough? Damn, I should have become an investment banker!

Housing

Ok, updates on the housing front: we will go and have a look at a flat tomorrow morning, and it seems very promising. Fingers crossed!

Socializing

We have been quite busy socializing the last two days. Very unlike us, I must add. But were good and spent the Saturday in the Library. When they shut we went on to a pub with Reynir and King. Rushed back home to have dinner with Sarah and her husband (our only slightly sane neighbours). Went to 'the Three stags' around the corner from us. It was the first time we've had dinner there, and probably the last time as well. Overpriced pub food (aspiring to be a gastro-pub, I guess), but overall a nice evening. Chilled out in front of the telly when we got back, mostly because I wanted to watch the replay of 'Britain's got talent'. (Great winner!)

Today was spent at C's. She'd made an enormous Sunday lunch. It was great food, and loads of wine as always, but way too cold to sit outside! I definitely moved to the wrong country. But then, feeling insecure about showing off my 'bingo wings' I guess it's a good thing that it's not hot enough for tank tops and mini skirts...