Clueless in the UK

This posting is in response to Chris asking for more. What he didn’t realize is I need to get a few things off my chest, no pun intended.

I am sitting here coughing my head off, two weeks after my cough first appeared, just a few days before I got on the plane to London. I brought my Nyquil, The nighttime sniffling, sneezing, coughing, aching, stuffy head, fever so you can wake up on kitchen floor wondering how the hell you got there medicine. Every night and every morning I took a swig of that stuff, but as the week wore on my coughing fits didn’t reduce in severity or frequency. I stared at the level in the bottle with increasing trepidation, like Marion in Raiders of the Lost Ark when the torch was failing in the snake pit, terrified that I was going to run out and have to buy the UK version of Nyquil, The nighttime sniffling, sneezing, coughing, aching, stuffy head, fever so you can wake up in the Hampstead TUBE station wondering … Blah blah blah …

Did that sound forced? I have been wanting to say that for at least a week …

But back to the point. I definitely found the place we need to live, we have to live there, it’s perfect. It’s 1000 feet from the kids’ school, 500 feet from the Hampstead TUBE station, quiet, safe, a guest bedroom that would easily fit two grown people, etc. For CRYING OUT LOUD the thing has a full size fridge in it!

It’s way WAY more than we thought we would pay but we’ve been able to rationalize it through the miracle of … rationalization. But the whole deal is a little weird because we’re not going through a letting agent, we’re going directly to the owner via a guard++ (more than a guard, in case you’re wondering) at the complex, who is getting a kickback of 2% in exchange for saving the owner 10% of our annual rent which is the fee the letting agents charge.

Anyway, I couldn’t resist trying to negotiate a tiny bit more … and that was the last I heard from him. I woke up at 5am this morning wondering if he sent me mail again at 3am, which is 11am GMT which is his time zone (South Africa). Anyway, no mail from him, and none all day. So am assuming that my offer of a year up front rent (sitting in his savings account earning 7%) in addition to his 8% savings by screwing the letting agent isn’t good enough. Well, what do you expect from a landlord named - say it with me - Mr Darcy! I love that name! Brings me right back to Masterpiece Theater’s Pride and Prejudice 25 years ago. Anyway, I would pay a premium just to be able to tell people I am renting from Mr. Darcy.

Yesterday I took this picture of Jason and one of his classmates who was over for a play date. There is something about the way she looks at him that I just love. I have caught her looking at Jason in just this same way more than once on camera. You can click the image to see a larger version. I really love that 50mm lens!

I have to admit that I needed Aperture to adjust the shadows of the pictures (Jason and Emily’s faces) so they look pretty good. I have been having problems with the exposure on my camera lately and I am not sure what I am doing wrong. I hope it’s not the camera!

Let’s hope that Mr. Darcy is not as simple as he seems, that there’s more to him than love of money, and that he will show his softer and more human side to us and at least call me up so I can beg his forgiveness for even hinting that he should give me back some of the money he’s saving by going with me!

OK, so I decided to wander around the streets of Hampstead today as my letting agents completely blew me off. Only later did I realize that I had the wrong last digit of the phone number of the new agent I was trying to hook up with. Luckily I figured it out in time to find the first place I really think has a good chance of being the place. But that’s if we can reduce the price by 200 pounds per week.

Anyway, I was wandering the streets of Hampstead. I ended up at a Creperie that I have seen long lines for every day since I arrived. It’s just a stand with two people inside cooking crepes, so I gave it a try. They were really good. But what wouldn’t be with that amount of melted butter on it?

When you arrive in Hampstead via Tube, this is what the station looks like:

When you walk out the station and turn to the left, you encounter this unexpected gem:

It’s hard to convey the size of the streets around here, although I admit I didn’t try. But they are very narrow and often half the street is taken up by parked cars. But they are still two lane roads. Speaking of which, I have yet to identify a marking of any kind that indicates whether a street is one way or not.

The kids are out of school right now during what’s called “half term”. Is that it? I think so, but that sounds weird to me. Anyway, I have been spared the SUV nightmare of lines of big SUVs waiting to pick up their kids at school. Somehow I thought Brits were smarter than that, but apparently they too have a burgeoning love affair with the SUV, despite having the common sense to tax the hell out of gasoline: $7/gallon for gas, $4/gallon of which is taxes. Anyway, I thought this was a pretty amusing 1 — 2 — 3 sighting at the intersection of Hampstead High Street and Heath Street. Too bad I am only now seeing my pink little finger in the upper left corner of these three shots:

Here’s a few more images to give you a flavor of the Hampstead village. There is a movie theater. Apparently they play recent Hollywood releases:

Every little downtown must have its on Hungarian confectionery:

This is the street where those three guys were running towards me having a little late afternoon fun with their fists. Is it a coincidence somebody got a bruised face in front of the Fat Face? I do not know.

Fresh fruit is apparently available:

This is the Thai place where I ran into Jens and Neguine, Niles and Julian. The food is delicious but I think I have a theory why the chicken is so soft and moist … and it’s not because it’s over cooked …

This is the church (steeple not shown) next to the school where Jason will be going. Madeline’s building is just up and around the corner about 100 feet. There’s a walkway along the right side of the church which takes you to the entrace of their school.

This is the kids menu of Madeline and Jason’s future favorite restaurant. The question is, Do we let the eat the British beef?

Stay tuned for details on a shady real-estate deal I just got offered…