Moving South

South of the border, the border being the river Thames, I temporarily settled down in South London, a part that is generally considered to be the less developed one compared to the North. Seems like the city follows the usual concept of North – South divide: Northern parts of the world being more developed than the Southern areas – okay North and South Korea are one of the exceptions.

Just look at the tube map and you’ll get the idea: they didn’t even bother building much of an underground train system here. But! we’ve got trains. They are usually delayed and packed but let’s face it: this is no Switzerland. This is not Switzerland in many more respects than just trains. Roads are quite bumpy, sidewalks mostly so cracked that rolling a suitcase on a pavement was a nightmare when I first moved in and you can see chicken bones scattered everywhere – as one South Londoner once filled me in on this subject: “South Londoners just looove their fried chicken“. Yes, I can see that.

The best part is the house I live in. It’s a great huge house in Streatham and I live with four British guys. At first I was a bit anxious – me not only being the only girl in the house, but also the only non-english person. On my first day the guys greeted me with the bottle of red wine and a couple of bad news like the heating doesn’t work, which to some extent cooled down the warm welcome. For the first three days I could literally store food in my room like in a fridge, but on the fourth day everything was sorted and I was finally able to start enjoying it. The perks of living with four British guys is that I got to know lots of video games and TV series, I stopped being an OCD freak and am actively contributing on making mess myself (and not caring about it!), I learned that the pint of beer or a glass of whisky can do no harm at any time in the day and found out that when a guy says he’s going to change the lightbulb in the bathroom I should prepare myself to take a shower in the dark for at least next two weeks.

Anyway, they are all very sweet and can cheer me up every time I get my London blues. And even though most of the times I have no idea what they’re saying, I’m surviving pretty successfully with: “Oh yeah…“ “Oh, yeah?“ “Really?“ “Huh, funny!“ hoping they never find out 😉


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