I’m constantly curious. An observer of the absurd, the ordinary, the bizarre. Walk with me through the streets of London, and some other streets we’ve visited, and look at the world through my eyes. In no random order, as I once heard someone say.
I hope you’ll see what I see.
Last year, as we waited on the Embankment to buy tickets for a boat trip along the Thames, an off-duty mime walked past me speaking on his cell phone.
On the boat, we were invited by the captain to enjoy what the onboard bar had to offer: “Hot and cold drinks, and limited sandwiches.”
We enjoyed a delicious meal at a riverside pub. My fish curry was especially tasty and I thanked the waiter and asked her to pass on my compliments to the chef. She seemed pleased, and told me, “The curry was made by authentic Sri Lankans.”
A guy at my bus stop in central London asked me recently, “Does this train go to Borough High Street?” I said, “No.”
When in Belfast, I took a taxi to the ‘big house’ at Stormont. The grounds were beautiful, and the drive up to the seat of the Northern Ireland Assembly was breathtaking. Once through the gate and past security, I noticed people walking their dogs and enjoying the surroundings on foot. I was surprised.
“Can anyone come here? I see people walking everywhere.”
The taxi driver said, “Oh yes. And you can even run.”
Across the pond, on our first trip to the US, we encountered a guy asking us for money at the Embarcadero Station in central San Francisco. When we didn’t respond, he smirked, “Whatever.”
One of his colleagues took a different approach. He sat on the sidewalk with a sign written on a square of cardboard: “Please help – I need more karate lessons.”
While on the bus in the city, two drivers swopped shifts. The new guy grabbed the mic, and said, “Passengers, just give me a minute. And then we’re going to rock ‘n roll.” The stoned guy in the far end of the bus yelled, “Take yer time, bra!”
As we walked past the Ferry Building in San Francisco, I overheard a young dad talking to his toddler daughter. They were surrounded by pigeons, so he was teaching her to say ‘pigeon’. She said, “Widgen.” He tried a few more times to get her to say ‘pigeon’, but she kept saying, “Widgen”. He threw in the towel. “Yeah, well we don’t even have pigeons in Wisconsin.”
On our visit to Berkeley – is it sometimes called Berserkeley? – we saw a hoarding on a building that read: ‘we-buy-ugly-houses.com’.
When we visited Alcatraz Island, the guide pointed us in the direction of the island and said, “Alcatraz Island. Plenty of bars but nowhere to drink”.
I wonder if he ever gets tired of saying that?
Sunshine signing off for today!