Saturday, February 6, 2016
Remember how last time I was warning you about the potential faux-pas of getting too excited on London's famous double-decker buses? Well, let me tell you that I've unwittingly stumbled across another potential issue in our UK adventures, and thought it best to warn you, in case you feel like you might have the same done to you.
I'm an avid fan of Made in Chelsea: it's pompous, it's fabulous, it's ridiculous, and it's just bloody easy-to-watch TV, if I'm being honest. Visiting Chelsea and the King's Road and the wonderfully winding roads of white columned terraces was therefore a must. And there are a hell of a lot of white columned terraces in Chelsea - like, possibly thousands (slight exaggeration, maybe...) - and you'd think taking a quick snap in front of one of these esteemed homes would hardly be an issue. Well, ladies and gents, it usually wouldn't be, and probably won't be for you if you try this mock MiC moment, but for me... Well, let's just say that out of the thousands (ahem) of terraces we walked past, I managed to pick the one house whose owner was walking behind us. The *exact* house. And do you know what I did? I bloody well stood there and got a photo, didn't I. Didn't bother to move over, didn't ask whether it would be ok to take a photo...nope, I took it. For one, I was already too deep in the pose to make it look like I was casually standing by his home as I took a break from all the exhausting mimosa-drinking-drama-exploding moments that happen so frequently on MiC. And to be quite frank, I didn't even notice the poor guy standing there, leather shoes and suit, waiting patiently to be allowed access to his very own front door.
London: 2, Jacquie: 0
Thursday, February 4, 2016
If you were able to look through my snaps from the first week we had in London, you'd be forgiven for mistaking me for having been there during Christmas. But, as we learnt in my last post, I certainly was not in the UK for Christmas, and as such as soon as we landed I knew we had to do everything and anything Christmassy - because who knows when you're going to be in London near-Christmas-sort-of-end-of-December again? Not me, and I'm a huge, 'let's do everything we can while we're here' kinda person. None of that waking up late when on holiday.
This was nearing the end of our first day in London: we were tired, hungry, our feet hurt, and we had stayed up most of the previous night jet-lagged and binge-watching The Inbetweeners on UK television. But, we'd also managed to visit Oxford St and see the decorations (Christmas bucket list number 1: check!), stumbled across the unbelievably beautiful Cartier building (number 2: check!), aaaaand managed to get what I like to call 'pole position' (four times!) on the double decker buses traipsing the city. Don't ask me how I did it...the Brits, I was later told, like the idea of queues, and jumping queues excitedly as you wind your way up the stairs to the front row, is apparently frowned upon. Note to self: try not to look too much like a local as you explore good old London town. But actually, do, because pole position is just too much fun to miss xx
Tuesday, February 2, 2016
You’d think hosting a two-day Christmas event the day before you fly out to England to move for 6 months would never even cross someone’s mind – surely you wouldn’t put yourself under the strain of cooking, cleaning, hosting, preparing, dancing, swimming, singing and present-giving right before a major life change?! Well, of course rationality goes straight out the window when Christmas is the main tune of the month (or, let's be honest, the best part of November and December). We had the most lovely time, with scores of family members around until 11pm, and our alarms set for 2am.
Now, imagine your cousins, Aunty and Uncle all rocking up to the airport at 3am the next day to surprise you...but you've already gone through customs and can't go back out again to see them. Yep, that happened. Stubborn enough not to want their presence go to waste, we organised a way to converse using our mobiles and staring at each other through the glass between terminals. It was honestly a genius 3am moment, if you ask me! Saying goodbye after their incredible effort was the must heart-wrenching thing, and truth be told, while I was lucky enough to be flying First Class on the Emirates A380 (pinch me, I know!) I still couldn't help but cry as we took off towards one of the greatest adventures in the world...