London deflowered me. I lost myself in that city. It was all they had said it would be - noisy, gray, yellow teeth, bad breath, brown overtones to the essential ruddy heartiness. It was all that and more to someone who was so new to travelling alone. In that moment, when I took the first left to the Underground from Heathrow, I was, completely and absolutely, in love with myself!
The Tube. After changing trains so many times, befriending ticket-sellers at every imaginable stop,not only can i tell you about the unpredictable tantrums of the Victoria line, but I could teach you how to jostle your way to the best seats.
Fell in love with that crazy jazz they call the Tube, listened to buskers playing in the station all day long...even threw a precious pound to one of them who had the sexiest voice...befriended a Russian lesbian artist on my first night there, when I had yet to step out into the much-maligned London air...
I used to choose any station..on a whim!...step out of the Tube, run up the stairs (I hate taking the escalator..I am convinced it will eat my foot! You have a certain X-file episode to blame). Baker Street, to me, shall always be a lane of pigeons, postcards & endless charm. Oxford Street is for the warmest waffles and costa coffee. And oh Covent Garden! that quaint ancient vegetable mart, now with its immigrant punk attitude, crazy jugglers, jazz musicians, pashmina shawls next to pictures of a masturbating Christ. It was wild in there! Liecester Square with its falafel shops and the smoothest humus filling.
I spent a lifetime in the London Tube...once or twice over
(to be continued)
The Tube. After changing trains so many times, befriending ticket-sellers at every imaginable stop,not only can i tell you about the unpredictable tantrums of the Victoria line, but I could teach you how to jostle your way to the best seats.
Fell in love with that crazy jazz they call the Tube, listened to buskers playing in the station all day long...even threw a precious pound to one of them who had the sexiest voice...befriended a Russian lesbian artist on my first night there, when I had yet to step out into the much-maligned London air...
I used to choose any station..on a whim!...step out of the Tube, run up the stairs (I hate taking the escalator..I am convinced it will eat my foot! You have a certain X-file episode to blame). Baker Street, to me, shall always be a lane of pigeons, postcards & endless charm. Oxford Street is for the warmest waffles and costa coffee. And oh Covent Garden! that quaint ancient vegetable mart, now with its immigrant punk attitude, crazy jugglers, jazz musicians, pashmina shawls next to pictures of a masturbating Christ. It was wild in there! Liecester Square with its falafel shops and the smoothest humus filling.
I spent a lifetime in the London Tube...once or twice over
(to be continued)
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