The lights are on but nobody's home...

...because I'm guest posting over at *Insert My Blog Name Here* for the lovely P!

Do you enjoy having people over to stay with you?

Would you like to know how to be a good host?

Then go HERE to read my guide to find out what not to do...

Happy Friday!

Tales from the Tube

Ok. I know I said no more posts about London but I swear this one will be funny.

Now I’ve put too much pressure on myself.

It’ll be mildly amusing.

Having previously been scared senseless by the Tube, I thought that I was starting to get the hang of it in October, when I went down to see my friend.

However after this trip I feel I’m even better and think I should upgrade myself from Tube Champion to Tube Master. Admittedly it takes me slightly longer than most to figure out exactly where it is I’m going but the point is I can figure it out and I no longer want to cry at the prospect of doing so.

Whilst revelling in my newfound Tube status a couple of funny things happened:

Tube Incident Number 1: Late in the night we were making our way back to our destinations when the tube stopped at a station. There was a family of 3 on the platform – Mum, Dad and daughter. Dad and daughter go to get on the train but the Mum is furiously rummaging in her handbag for something, god only knows what, so Dad and daughter get back on the platform. Mum suddenly finds whatever it is she’s been digging around for so frantically and leaps on to the tube.

Just in time for the doors to close behind her, leaving dad and daughter on the platform.

There was absolute silence. You could hear the wind whistling through my wide open mouth.
Then we realised that the poor woman wasn’t English and her daughter and husband tried to communicate through the glass where it was she should go.

Then the unthinkable happened.

The tube driver opened the doors to let them on.

My mouth dropped a further few inches.

Our London hosts couldn’t believe it, saying they’d never seen a driver do that before.

Lesson learned: Tubes come along quickly, if you hear the beeping, do not choose that moment to try and get on the train. Also. Don’t lose things in your handbag.

Tube Incident Number 2: New Year’s Eve and we were going back home, laden down with booze, to begin the party. We get on at Embankment (by the way, people were already lining the bridges to watch the fireworks go off at midnight. This was 5pm. Are people mental?! It was freezing!!! You can watch them on BBC1!!) and the train is pretty crowded so we shuffle along and find ourselves uncomfortably close to one another.

It was about to get more uncomfortable.

“Sorry” I hear someone next to me say. I turn around, thinking someone’s trying to get past me or I’m stood on my foot or something.

Instead I see a man who is reaching forward towards me and then picks some lint off my jacket. Which also happens to be my chest.

Now I am not familiar with tube etiquette and wasn’t quite sure how to respond so I said...
“Thank you”

What else could I say?!

And then stared very hard at the floor so that I a) wouldn’t laugh and b) wouldn’t start screaming. For someone who’s not a big fan of touching other people, I like my personal space, this was pretty much the worst thing that could happen. Actually the worst thing that could have happened is if he’d hugged me and quite honestly I’m not sure that he wasn’t thinking about it.

We all stood in silence for the next few stops until Lint Man got off the tube at which point American Boy turns to me and says “Is that ok that he just did that?”

“NOOOOOOO!” Came my cry.

Everybody found the whole situation incredibly hilarious and we had soon concocted stories about him travelling the tubes, collecting lint off women and taking it home to fashion a woman made entirely of lint and fluff. My laughter was bordering on hysteria.

Lesson learned: Mental people ride on Tubes. Get nerves of steel next time you visit.

Now I swear and triple swear that this is the last of the London trip posts.

(PS. Remember me saying that I liked Parsons Green and it would be lovely to live there? Well clearly I can’t afford to, but it’s always worth keeping your eyes and ears open because you could end up in the same situation as the person the Americans were staying with. He shares the house with 4 other people and it turns out that his landlord hasn’t changed the rent in about 15 years for some unfathomable reason, so he is paying......wait for it....£380.

I’ll give you some time to pick up your jaw from the table.

Now I know it’s just a double room in a shared house but I think I could put up with it for that kind of rent!)

Having fun in London town - Part 3 - The purchases!

I promise we’re almost at the end. I could probably bore you for a whole month of Sundays about my trip to London but I promise that it is now pretty much at an end.

The theme of today’s post is less words, more pictures, you’ll probably be relieved to hear.

So I present to you The Purchases!

I spotted a couple of little independent bookshops on our travels and there was no way I was going to pass by them without walking in and buying something. Much as I love Waterstones and all other book chains, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t, I love love love independent book shops and think it’s so important to support them and keep them in business by buying a little something from each one.

I always find something just a little bit different in these shops. There are no tables of 3 for 2 offers which are screaming at you to buy them, you are more free to wander aimlessly up and down, looking at the shelves for yourself and it is then that certain things jump out at you and grab your attention.

At Gloucester Road Bookshop (couldn’t tell you the name of the street but it’s about a 3 minute walk from Gloucester Road tube station) I came away with a hardback copy of On Green Dolphin Street by Sebastian Faulks. A great book that I have read but it was a borrowed copy so I am very pleased to have my own copy, and for a mere £3! I also snatched this tidgy copy of Lark Rise to Candleford. Couldn’t even tell you why I bought it. Just liked it a lot. Who knows when I’ll read it!

And at Nomad Bookshop in Parson’s Green (I think it was on Fulham Road but don’t hold me to it!) I came away with The Boy With The Cuckoo Clock Heart which sounds very fairytale-like – a story of a boy who has his heart replaced with a cuckoo clock and who mustn’t lose his temper for fear of setting it off. Apparently it’s written by a French popstar, which is, well, just bizarre. But I’m pleased I found it either way.

At the Tate Modern (everyone knows the best part of any museum is the gift shop) I picked up this little children’s book. “Who’s it for?” I hear you ask. Erm....me. I just wanted it ok?!

Also at the Tate Modern I got this which provided us with much amusement. I have 2 others in the series which are instructions for British servicemen in France and Germany in 1944. There are reproductions of actual pamphlets given to soldiers in the Second World War to help them assimilate in their host countries. You know what though? The American one is still relevant today – we really haven’t changed that much as a nation. I suggest copies of this are given to passengers on every flight from America to England.

It contains gems such as....

"Don't be a show off. The British dislike bragging and showing off..."

"Keep out of arguments. You can rub a Britisher the wrong way by telling him "we came over and won the last one." Each nation did its share..."

"The British don't know how to make a good cup of coffee. You don't know how to make a good cup of tea. It's an even swap."

And I know that you’re all dying to find out what I bought at the Marmite shop. Come on, admit it. You are. As I said in this post, I went a little overboard because the prices of everything had been slashed in an attempt to clear the stock before the shop closed down. So I came away with...

I know.

I wasn’t joking when I said I went overboard.

Pictured here you will find:
- 2 t-shirts
- The big bumper book of Marmite (which is hilarious by the way, they must have had such a giggle putting it together)
- 4 coasters
- 3 tea towels
- An oven glove
- A postcard in a frame

And not pictured is a big tote with a marmite jar on it. I’d got to the till and he rang the purchases up and said that they had the tote on offer for £5 when it was normally £15 and would I be interested? At that point I really felt that I’d gone so far, I might as well carry on so all my purchases went in that.

I am currently working on spreading all these things throughout the flat because I think there’s definitely a chance that there’s a bit of Marmite overkill going on.

And here ends the London posts. (You’ll be glad to hear.)

I think I did pretty well with my purchases, I tried to get things that I can’t get in Hull, nothing worse than coming home with a load of stuff you could have bought anywhere. (I think the Marmite products can definitely come under that heading!)

Now.

What the hell am I going to blog about for the rest of the year?!

Having fun in London Town - Part 2 - New Years Eve

Having now pretty much caught up on all your blogs (still a few more to go!) I think I share the same sentiment as a few of you....new year's eve kinda tends to suck.

I guess it's the hype. It happens all the time, the night's that you really look forward to end up being pretty disappointing, it's always the spur of the moment ones that end up being the greatest.

I can think of one really good new years's night that I've had, which is more than a little bit lame I realise. Last year the boyfriend and I didn't bother at all and when the opportunity arose to have a house to ourselves we decided to have a quiet night in.

I was hoping that this year would be pretty special, we would be in London, the Americans would be there, I was expecting big things. And there was talk of parties galore so I was a little disappointed at first when it was decided that we'd be having a party in with just 6 people - me, the boyfriend, The Americans, and the Americans host and girlfriend.

But then I figured, I've been that let down by new year's eve in the past that this couldn't be any worse could it?

It was excellent.

The boyfriend and I were freed from our host...

HOW TO BE A GOOD HOST LESSON NUMBER 3: Offer your guests food and water. Occasionally. And give them toilet paper.

...And came to stay with The Americans' host so we no longer had to worry about getting home.

We somehow ended up getting enough wine for twice as many people as were there which we soon made a start on and, accompanied by nibbles and music, we got down to business. Many topics were covered, including politics, sex and Facebook.

Then twister came out.

You can't play twister when you're an adult, your body just doesn't bend in the right way. Or in my case, any way. Either way it provided many laughs until, with midnight approaching, we turned on Jools Holland, mandatory new year's eve viewing.

We celebrated the new year with champagne and sitting out on the teeny balcony, yelling happy new year at people as they walked past.

And then.

It started to snow.

And still we sat out there.

Yelling and whooping.

Then things took a slightly mental turn when we went back inside and started dancing like mental people to the rest of Jools Holland and then Daft Punk. We learnt dance moves to wow people in the future, broke 2 glasses, knocked the lampshade off the main light, went to a damsel in distress who was abandonned after having an argument with her boyfriend (some people didn't have that much of a happy new year), went out for a new year kebab and then took ourselves to bed at 4am.

All in all. A job well done.

The boyfriend and I rose at 11am and made our bleary-eyed way to Kings Cross and crawled onto a train back to Hull.

And I started recounting all of this to you. Bored yet?

Just the one more post and it will be short and sweet and I'll show you what I bought at the Marmite shop...

Having fun in London Town - Part 1

Happy 2010 fellow bloggers!! Hope the new year is treating you well so far. I am slowly getting round to catching up with all your blogs. I just might need another couple of days so bear with me please?

I'm back in Hull now, having gone down to London to meet The Americans and spend new year down there. They are still in London, where they will remain until Monday when they toddle off to Paris for a couple of days before coming up north to sample the delights Hull has to offer.

Which rather conveniently leaves me with time to tell you about what we got up to down in the Big Smoke!

I promise I'll try and keep this as brief as possible although there's just too much to tell you. Let me know if I'm getting boring!

The Americans were staying with a friend down in London which left the boyfriend and I trying not to shell out for a hotel and asking if anyone had room to put us up. I asked someone that I used to live with in Manchester if he could put us up.

LIFE LESSON NUMBER 1: If it seems like someone doesn't really want to have to round to stay at their place chances are....they don't want you to stay at their place. Do. not. go.

The boyfriend and I arrived in London on 29th December and made our way to Heathrow to meet The Americans. I barged my way to the bar and waited. And waited. And. Waited. I waited so long I'd almost given up hope. Then the boyfriend tapped me on the shoulder,

"Isn't that them?"

"Where?!"

"Over there"

"Where? I can't see?!"

"Over there"

"WHERE?!!?!!?!!"

At which point I saw them and went running like a lunatic across Terminal 5 arrivals hall. God even knows what I looked like. THEY WERE HERE!

We followed them to Parsons Green, where they were staying, and ended up staying there having fun, drinking, talking and eating. I then figured we should get back to where we were staying in the rather swanky Kensington & Chelsea borough. Seriously. Those houses. Unbelievable.

HOW TO BE A GOOD HOST LESSON NUMBER 1: Do not have a massive party in the living room where your guests are supposed to be sleeping. Or at least give them some warning that that's going to happen. They probably want to go to bed before 2.30am.

Things got off to a slow start the first full day in The City. A combination of jet lag and the fact that it was constantly raining meant that no-one was really in the mood to get going. Eventually we ventured out to the Tate Modern. We ventured inside The Big Black Box Installation by Miroslaw Balka which was very big and very black. And I did indeed crash into a wall. It's a very disorienting space. The rest of it? I've got to say, I'm not a big 'arty' person and a lot of modern art I just can't get my head around, it leaves me a little cold.

We then took a little hop, skip and jump across the Millennium Bridge to St Paul's Cathedral. You know what? I've never been there before, and I was more than a little over-awed. There was a service going on when we got in there and the singing was beautiful although this unfortunately meant that we couldn't see a lot of it. It's definitely going on the list for next time I'm back down there.

HOW TO BE A GOOD HOST, LESSON NUMBER 2: Actually be in when your guests come home in the evening so they can get in your flat.

New Year's Eve saw us take a wander through Parsons Green. Lovely place, want to live there please. We also looked for places to cash traveller's cheques for The Americans.

LIFE LESSON NUMBER 2: You need your passport when trying to cash travellers cheques. Small Post Offices can't do it. HSBC can't do it. Barclays can do it but will charge you commission, you need to try and find a Lloyds TSB. Or. Find an American Express place which will allow you to cash them without your passport.

We then took a visit to the Marmite Shop. A friend had told me about this when she had been down to London and it was the only thing I wanted to do on this trip. All we knew is that it was somewhere down Regent Street so with eyes peeled we set off. Just when hope was failing, I spotted it! And even better news was to come. Turns out it was a pop-up shop that was just there for a limited time and New Years Eve was its last day. AND. Consequently everything was slashed in price as they were trying to get rid of it all. I was in heaven. And may have gone slightly overboard in there.

.....

And I shall stop boring you there.

More tomorrow! (You lucky, lucky things)