“Here’s your cappuccino … I … I tried to form a heart on top of it, but then this came out.”
The young waitress looks at me carefully and I beam at her, actually grateful: “Oh, hearts are kitschy. Everyone can do hearts. This is art!”
We smile at each other and I take my coffee. It is better than a heart, isn’t it?
Ignoring the light drizzle outside we decide to do the new Shakespeare’s Globe, me having a soft spot for Shakespeare and what not. Surprisingly, I recognize our guide immediately – I have seen her in the British Museum on Monday!
(She was not simply telling us about the olden Globe, she actually taught us about it, in a lively, theatrical manner, as you can see. I immediately liked her. 🙂 )
Afterwards, we decide to have a look at more … commercial parts of London, first and foremost the Oxford Street, and to go there by bus, the famous double-decker. It takes some time but we enjoy every minute of it. Though it is already dark I insist I want to find the Speakers’ Corner in the nearby Hyde Park and say something no one wants to hear from me, generally. I am not even sure it is the right Corner, but I start and finish my rant anyway: “This World stinks way too much and I don’t like it!” I complain (It does. Both Germany and London reek of sausages way too much, London also stinks of traffic, our street regularly stinks of garlic (there’s a food factory nearby), Paris stinks of just about everything and so on).
(Oh, shopping! Well, my hubby bought me 2 belt hangers and 3 pairs of socks at Marks and Spencer‘s (I wanted to buy them, but he said he should be the one buying things at Men’s) – I hadn’t taken enough socks with me :oops:- and he also gifted us with cashmere scarves at a “Scotland Shop” :-D. On Sunday, I had bought one of those canvas bags that say LONDON on the front flap and on Monday, I had also decided the British Museum could use my money, so I bought a small Rosetta Stone shoulder bag (of which every translator should possess one :-))
We bought a few lovely fridge magnets, some cookies and a bottle of Marmite (to find out whether I am a lover or a hater – I’ll let you know later), I bought a pair of silk ties for my hubby at the Heathrow before flying home and that is all that needs to be said about our shopping experience in London. Sorry.)
“A, it’s you again! How are you!?” The cashier at our local M&S selling only food remembers us. We chat a bit while we put away my lettuce, our tomatoes and a bottle of prosecco and we tell him we’ll be leaving on Saturday, provided the world doesn’t end by then. “What do you mean by that?!?” His co-worker tells him the doomsday is supposed to happen and the poor uninformed cashier tells us this is bad news because he hasn’t married his girlfriend yet and will be ending in an illegal way. We all laugh till we can’t anymore …
It has become way too easy to have meaningful and nice conversations in London, where it simply doesn’t matter I am not from here (cause hardly anyone is) and I wonder how much I am actually going to miss it back in Germany, though I know this to be a good way to simply make tourists feel good.
It is still a huge difference whether you get laughed at at the Frankfurt Airport for not knowing about the exact purpose of the control (“Did you hear that?!?!? She asked me whether I wanted to see the metal bits she’s wearing! I told her I wanted to see the explosives!”) or a nice British controller asks you in a normal voice to take of your boots in case the studs are made of metal.
(you will have seen her behind a few days ago here)