Last Orders On The Underground (And The Rest Of The Weekend)

Oh, London.

Had a supremely rad weekend. I have officially decided that Borough Market is full of an addictive chemical. Every Saturday morning Ian and I sit on the couch watching E4 Music and one of us invariably decides that we may as well head to Borough because.. well, it’s awesome. Truly high five worthy. This weeks adventure got me some fresh tomato sauce, made with 1,000 fresh tomatoes (I may have made that statistic up), some bree, and a packet of blueberries for £1 that will hopefully eventually be a smoothie of epic proportions.

Following this, we headed to Camden Town to have a few sly Saturday bevvies at Proud. Proud is this lovely enormous gallery space that is host to bands, art and a very fancy bar. It is located within Camden Market and attracts a mixed crowd of young and old - especially with Camden’s eclectic mix of fans. We kept buying bottles of white wine and eventually everything was wonderful. Each section of the bar is broken up into stables (it was originally a horse hospital that has been converted for a host of uses, most recently, Proud) that can seat up to twenty people. It gives the huge space a very personal feel, especially as one can plug an iPod into the wall in each stable, giving a group its own selection of tunes. Mostly we listened to Vampire Weekend, which is Victoria’s favourite band, and consisted of us bopping up and down for a good couple of hours.

Throughout last week I kept joking about the Last Orders On The Underground, which is a fairly well documented end to drinking on public transport in London. A number of groups started on both Facebook and private websites encouraging people to come and celebrate the ban (which, coincidentally, would come into effect at midnight) by having one last drink on the Circle line. The Circle line runs, simply, in a circle, and connects many of London’s biggest stations, namely Liverpool Street. So, headed home, we figured we might as well give it a shot, and headed to where it would all start, at said Liverpool Street from nine.

Meet Vic! We met at Chris Garneau concert, and she is high fives.

We are classy people. Me and Vic and Andrew and beer. And joy!

We made friends with locals! In suits!

We met a colourful set of characters, groups in vintage suits, a couple drinking wine and eating bree, and a tourist couple that had probably just landed and wondered how long London had been completely mad for. It was at its core a celebration of the community of London, a group of like-minded individuals looking to toast the last opportunity to have a drink on the tube with both fanfare and cheese. Sadly some individuals who were not representative of the spirit of Last Drinks chose to get aggressive, casting a shadow over the event, but then overall vibe of the event was great, with respect and dancing.

Me and Vic drinking Leffe from the bottle way too quickly.

This kind gentleman was drinking wine from a glass. He’s my hero. And he was really friendly.

Wow. I can apparently drink a bit quickly!

Eight thousand people had RSVP’d yes to one Facebook group of the event, so there was clearly too many people to fit in one carriage, even if the energy was infectious. It was then, at 8:45pm, I think we realised it would soon get out of hand, and jumped off the tube so we could get home.

Vic and Andrew and me looking fancy on the bridge.

Rosco is awesome. And a dork!

Near my place, which is near a statue, which is near Tower Bridge.

Today was spent being lazy, doing dishes and Skyping friends. I found a bunch of photos from earlier trips on Ian’s camera, so on to pictorial evidence of past awesomeness!

When I was in Iceland we kept taking these photos of me jumping off a two meter cliff in an attempt to make me look like I was flying. By the end of it I was in so much pain I wanted to cry, but this is maybe my favourite photo of all time. Iceland, you are lovely. I miss you.

During the festival we attended in Mons (near Brussels, in Belgium), we were invited to our friend Tanya’s friend’s boss’s house. Where, clearly, we drank Leffe. Leffe is awesome.

And London is awesome. Had a big bout of homesickness about a fortnight ago, but now I feel so much more comfortable. Plus I worked out how to save Family Guy episodes to Sky+, which is like Foxtel IQ, so now I have no reason to feel crummy!

A Picnic In Hampstead Heath (In Primarily Pictorial Form)

On Saturday the posse (which consists of friends, housemates and workmates) headed to Hampstead Heath for a big picnic. We started the morning at the local Borough Market, which I have often espoused as being the greatest market in the history of the universe, and set off with fetta, wine, cheese, bread, and enough hommous to take out a small country. So, pictorially, here’s how it was.

English grass is so long it’s like a bed. People, YOU COULD SLEEP ON THIS STUFF. We ran around with our shoes off, and then remembered we are living in London, so we put the shoes back on. Quickly. But it’s the loveliest park.

At some point Georgia took on the role of spiritual guide for the group, which mostly consisted of this pose, and not a whole lot of enlightenment. But it was nice.

Frisbee!

Leonie looks supremely classy in this photo, until you notice the beer and cigarette. But again, the grass is long! And pretty! And oh wow, we all just fell asleep eventually.

Obviously.