REFLECTIONS OF THE OUSE

I'm lucky to live in a city that sleeps, even if it is only between the hours of 2 and 6 am.

(the Thames)

LONDON TOWN

I have decided my relationship with London is that of a love hate relationship. An exchange student who I study sociology with couldn't figure out, in our Cities and Social Theory seminar, why the British were not too keen on their nation's capital. I put it too her like this. London is great if you have money and lots of it. Otherwise it expensive, crowded and stressful.

If the population of 7 million was cut in half along with the cost of living then it would be much more desirable.

(Waterloo Station)

Regardless, I'm attracted to the prospect of living at least near to one of the world's infamous cities. The plan of this visit was to investigate my post degree plan to do a PGCE at Kingston University London. The prospect of teacher training scares more people than the thought of living in London! The university was in a very nice location, half an hour from Waterloo station.

(Trafalgar Square, after Ashes victory parade)

For those of you who talk about “London’s Spirit” after the attacks in July, could you please point out what exactly you’re on about? People need to use the Underground. It’s a matter of necessity not some moral protest on behalf on Londoner’s to all the terrorists out there. Believe me, if they had an alternative, Londoner’s would undoubtedly leap at the opportunity to say goodbye to the crowded carriages of the underworld, but the fact of that matter is they don’t. It’s either use the Underground or get out of London.(Lambeth North, Underground Station)

While in London, one of the people I stayed with told me about her friend who recently passed out on a train in London. She was properly unconscious, her lips turned blue. She came to, to the nightmare of Londoner’s trampling her as they tried to get on and off the train. Eventually someone did stop… an American tourist!

Indeed the only smile I saw on the underground was that of a 4 year old girl with her parents.

(Berlin Wall, Imperial War Museum)

The train home stopped at Peterborough (where I used to stop before my family left the area). A crazy old man got on the train and started attempts at a conversation with the man in front of us. Although he wasn’t interested, the passenger humoured him, much more convincingly than I could have.

The old guy starting going on about his day in Oundle – “The nicest town between York and London” - apparently. I’ve done Oundle, done York, I want to do London now.

YORK CITY CENTRE

It has to be said - York has been a pretty awesome place to go to university. And I'm not just saying this because my northern friends, not to mention any names (Laurence and Rich), would probably stop talking to me if I didn't. York is one of the few nicer places left in Britain. Unfortunately for England there are a lot of nasty, ugly dangerous places to be. Of course politicians in London dont see this. If it works there it must work everywhere else? Those fortunate enough to live in England's affluent areas fail to recognise the problems being faced outside their affluent communities. As I appreciate that I can walk down the street by myself anytime of day or night and not feel threatened by what's out there, a luxury all too many students live without. Some places in this country going out in broad daylight is not a good idea. Though having said that some people I know got beaten up in the daytime by strangers. While her friend was being attacked, the girl ran to get some help from people on a main road. No one stopped to help. It took the police hours before they could record it.

"DONKEY R*PING S**T EATER"

Seven months ago, beyond our better judgment we ended up in the Lowther, the last stop for those desperately clinging to the evening.













A man (clearly in need of the money) approached us to sell some pastel drawings he'd made for £5. Pete got him down to £3(!), naturally choosing the least attactive piece of art he could.

Upon learning I too was from abroad the man extended his hand for a shake. His hand was black... and I'm not referring to his skin colour!! I have never washed my hands so well.

The title refers to the art not the artist.

WALMGATE BAR

York's city centre is surrounded in a wall built by the Romans, with main routes of access being through several gates. For example Micklegate Bar leads to all the bars and clubs, and Bootham Bar to all the old men's pubs and the Minster.















Walmgate Bar is surrounded by cat and pigeon selling take-away outlets. Afterall dog is a bit sophisticated for those who eat at these fine venues. Donner meat is likely the most disturbing thing on the menu. Think of a three foot tall, half a foot wide sphere of compressed mince rotating on a vertical spit fire, for goodness knows how many days. Thats donner meat! They shave is off and put it on chips!















We think someone lives above the gate? Or maybe it's just another over-priced cafe (as if York didn't have enough!).

GOOD-BYE TO SUMMER SWIMS


Spencer and Blayne enjoying their final moments of swimming pool bliss before school starts on Tuesday. I'm jealous!

PIRATES ON THE RIVER OUSE - Pete and Lee play pirates (who attempt to lasso ducks like cowboys) in our 1970s red boat.














RED BOAT

£25 per hour
£20 deposit
NO all male groups

This adventure started with a row over our position in the queue to get a boat. A grandmother and her grandchildren literally pushed in front of us. I decided to say something before Pete did, for their sakes. "Excuse me, I dont mean to be rude but weren't we here first?" to which she replied "No!" Naturally Pete spoke up and she swifty stepped aside.

To make a not too long story shorter, the boat motor broke down as we approached the dock so our 1970s gem was replaced with a boat that must have been at least 5 years younger!

OUT OF SCHOOL CLUB

This job was perhaps the best job I have ever had. For a worthwhile pay increase (and much less effort than previous occupational endeavors of mine) this job required me to essentially babysit children aged 4-14 years of age on site and during club trips.

I have never had a job that paid me to indulge at all you can eat buffets and on free party food.















The Out of School Club is like a North American day camp without the sleepovers and camp fires. I have newfound respect for secondary school teachers as I learnt how difficult teenagers can be.