Friday/Saturday
It all began with Triptych on Friday night, which was wonderful. Good work everyone involved with that. The de-rig at 7 am on Saturday morning was less wonderful, but things soon picked up at the afterparty up at the old Braindrop house in Turnpike lane. Good times. A ridiculous journey back to Bethnal Green was improved somewhat by an enforced stop-over in Iceland where Steph and I bought loads and loads of treats. South Park on the mattress in half-moved-out-of flat closed the day.
Sunday
SHIT THE BED WE HAVE TO MOVE ON TO A BOAT. Up at dawn crack; stuff into boxes; stuff into bags; clean floors; clean walls; clean ceilings; rent van; drive to Clapton; move boat; break boat; fix boat; drive to Bethnal Green; tube to London bridge; collect bikes; cycle to Clapton; find crucial belongings; pack rucsac; teach Steph how to operate boat; beak boat again; fix boat again; drink wine; sleep. Good lord.
Monday
Up at 7 to let Steph out of the marina, then back to boat-bed for a couple more hours kip, although too excited to sleep properly. Finished off a couple of things on the boat (sound system, solar charger, check batteries), then headed off to Liverpool Street for key handover to Steph. Thence to Victoria to get the train to Gatwick, with 3 hours until my flight. Plenty of time, right? Wrong. ABSOLUTE, COMPLETE AND TOTAL CHAOS. The whole of East Croydon is underwater - nothing can penetrate London's new aqueous border. "GO TO SURREY - IT'S YOUR ONLY HOPE". Righty-ho. Slowly - oh so slowly - we crawl our way through South-West London, until finally we make it as far as Reigate. JESUS CHRIST WE'VE LOST OUR CONDUCTOR. Nowhere to be found. Impossible to continue. Must wait for conductor-dispenser van to arrive. Terrifyingly little time remaining until flight leaves from airport far from Reigate. SAVED by insane but wonderful taxi driver with heart of gold, flying through country lanes to Gatwick. Onto aeroplane; tiny glass of orange juice; soggy sandwich. Phew.
Still Monday
We landed in Tunis around 7 pm. Bearing in mind that this is the capital city of one of the most developed countries in the whole of Africa it came as a surprise that absolutely no-one was to be seen, at all. No baggage handlers, no information point people, no HOST TO COLLECT ME AS PROMISED, no metro, no buses, not even any taxi drivers. Turns out this was to become somewhat of a theme around this time of day, on account of Ramadan. Eventually I happened upon a famished taxi driver just on his way back to his family to break his fast, and cajoled him into giving me a ride. Got him absolutely and totally lost, the poor guy - but we eventually made it to my hostel. He staggered off home. Gave him a generous tip. Hope he made it. The "nobody around at all" thing continued, but I eventually happened upon an empty room which I'm now calling my own and laid down my things.
Suddenly ALL CHANGE. Hordes of medical students from the four corners of the globe returned from the beach. Introductions; too many new names; too many languages; cup of tea; supermarket for supplies; off to town; restaurant for dinner; swapping stories; good times; lovely people; home; bed; sleep.
It all began with Triptych on Friday night, which was wonderful. Good work everyone involved with that. The de-rig at 7 am on Saturday morning was less wonderful, but things soon picked up at the afterparty up at the old Braindrop house in Turnpike lane. Good times. A ridiculous journey back to Bethnal Green was improved somewhat by an enforced stop-over in Iceland where Steph and I bought loads and loads of treats. South Park on the mattress in half-moved-out-of flat closed the day.
Sunday
SHIT THE BED WE HAVE TO MOVE ON TO A BOAT. Up at dawn crack; stuff into boxes; stuff into bags; clean floors; clean walls; clean ceilings; rent van; drive to Clapton; move boat; break boat; fix boat; drive to Bethnal Green; tube to London bridge; collect bikes; cycle to Clapton; find crucial belongings; pack rucsac; teach Steph how to operate boat; beak boat again; fix boat again; drink wine; sleep. Good lord.
Monday
Up at 7 to let Steph out of the marina, then back to boat-bed for a couple more hours kip, although too excited to sleep properly. Finished off a couple of things on the boat (sound system, solar charger, check batteries), then headed off to Liverpool Street for key handover to Steph. Thence to Victoria to get the train to Gatwick, with 3 hours until my flight. Plenty of time, right? Wrong. ABSOLUTE, COMPLETE AND TOTAL CHAOS. The whole of East Croydon is underwater - nothing can penetrate London's new aqueous border. "GO TO SURREY - IT'S YOUR ONLY HOPE". Righty-ho. Slowly - oh so slowly - we crawl our way through South-West London, until finally we make it as far as Reigate. JESUS CHRIST WE'VE LOST OUR CONDUCTOR. Nowhere to be found. Impossible to continue. Must wait for conductor-dispenser van to arrive. Terrifyingly little time remaining until flight leaves from airport far from Reigate. SAVED by insane but wonderful taxi driver with heart of gold, flying through country lanes to Gatwick. Onto aeroplane; tiny glass of orange juice; soggy sandwich. Phew.
Still Monday
We landed in Tunis around 7 pm. Bearing in mind that this is the capital city of one of the most developed countries in the whole of Africa it came as a surprise that absolutely no-one was to be seen, at all. No baggage handlers, no information point people, no HOST TO COLLECT ME AS PROMISED, no metro, no buses, not even any taxi drivers. Turns out this was to become somewhat of a theme around this time of day, on account of Ramadan. Eventually I happened upon a famished taxi driver just on his way back to his family to break his fast, and cajoled him into giving me a ride. Got him absolutely and totally lost, the poor guy - but we eventually made it to my hostel. He staggered off home. Gave him a generous tip. Hope he made it. The "nobody around at all" thing continued, but I eventually happened upon an empty room which I'm now calling my own and laid down my things.
Suddenly ALL CHANGE. Hordes of medical students from the four corners of the globe returned from the beach. Introductions; too many new names; too many languages; cup of tea; supermarket for supplies; off to town; restaurant for dinner; swapping stories; good times; lovely people; home; bed; sleep.
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