London calling

Yes, that's right. I, Killi, am now a fully fledged Londoner, complete with employment and umbrella. I have the regulation postage stamp flat that costs the entire gross domestic product of my country to rent for a month and needs copious references to get the priveledge of handing over your first born to live there. I now have a job that, miraculously, takes just under an hour tog et to - I'm considered lucky for my 45 minute journey; envious others I know travel upwards of an hour on an average day with good connections. I walk around with a suitcase on my shoulder in place of a handbag because of the combination of diary (like I can remember where or when anything is, given the whole week of gruelling interviews I've just subjected myself to) A-Z map of the city (because nobody, but nobody, not even the famous cabbies with "the knowledge" can get around without one of these little babies to tell them where they live and where they're going and everywhere in between), umbrella (an English essential which is also carried in a bizarre number of shops; my guess is that it's more in case your current brolly breaks from overuse, rather than catering to those who don't have one. Even tourists bring them along in the middle of summer), and an assortment of other bits of paper that seem to breed and multiply during the course of the day. I glare at anyone who has the nerve to walk at a leisurely pace up the middle of the footpath when I'm trying to hurry around them in heavy traffic - because there is ALWAYS heavy traffic. I sweat it out with my jacket on in the sweltering temperatures on the tube trains. I talk on my phone as I walk along the street, ignoring the looks I get from others with my obvious strine accent.

So, at the end of my first "business week" (notice, not work week. For all the exhaustion associated with it, three job interviews a day isn't classed as work; you don't get paid for interviews. But that's an argument for a whole other post), what are my thoughts about being in London? How am I filling my time? Am I over the horrendous jetlag associated with the 25 hours it took me to get here in the flight from hell? Well you might ask.

I spent today in and around Oxford St, the shopping hub of London and tourist mecca. It was crowded, it was noisy, it was a battle just to stop from being swept in the opposite direction to the one I wanted to go. Which would be the main reason why, in spite of the fantastic shops available there, I didn't accept the job offer from the company who seemed to be gobsmacked that I aced the phenomenally easy CAD test they set me (I know people who could have aced it in 2nd year uni...really, people, what are they like here that being able to do fairly mundane things blows their mind??? Maybe I should have taken that one afterall...). Flattering as it is to hear how brilliantly you've done in something you've done everyday for ages, I couldn't handle the thought of fighting my way in and out of the office everyday, only to sit and stare at a computer screen for hours with what seemed to me to be minimal social interaction. So what did I do? I took the one at the Oval, pefect for summer lunches at the cricket!

So, am i glad I've come halfway around the world leaving all my family and all but one of my friends behind, as scary and lonely as that promises to be? You bet your life I am!