Tuesday, 3 July 2012

That London...

So last week I went on a training course with work, and imagine my delight of it being in that London. The great capital of our country that to anyone who isn't from there feels like you're on your jollies.

That London was full of sunshine. I had to carry my coat over my overnight bag looking like a right tourist, and it was because I was. There were red buses, a man on the street selling freshly squeezed orange juice and we had a map. On an iphone but a map all the same. I eagerly rushed around Oxford Street looking in stores that we have up north but still it had to be done because they are huggge. I bought a crop top and a pair of shoes I could not afford. But I was on my jollies.

I drank a Starbucks mango and passionfruit frappuccino (I never do that), ate my very first Pret sandwich and spent far too much on a pint of cider. I met my friend who now lives in that London, for a bottle of wine before going to bed in my two hundred quid a night room, which was a lot smaller than my £450 a month flat in Manchester... Just like being on my jollies. The ferroro rochers on my pillow were a nice touch, the broken remote and missing freeview channels weren't but a step up from when I go abroad and watch a repeat of Friends in a different language, if I am fortunate to have a tele. I fell asleep to Big Brother, which I am slightly loving btw.

The next morning was a nightmare, I wanted to fill up on the free breakfast so decided to wake early to shower. The showers were not made for girls who do not need to wash their hair. I basically had to back up into the corner whilst trying not to get my hair wet. Difficult. The breakfast was continental. I felt like I was in Spain. I ate 3 eggs, with ham, toast, coffee and apple juice. A change from my usual weetabix.

I had a fun time and as I stepped off the train in Manchester I was filled with disappointment and the blues. Just like when you come back off your real jollies. The little things you're not usually accustomed to annoy you whilst you're there and then when you leave you realise it was that broken remote and fight with the shower that made it even more fun. I am definitely planning a trip to that London again soon.

For now, time to watch the Geordie Shore lot on their jollies.


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