There just does not seem to be enough hours in a day to do everything that there is to do in this incredible city…
Last Saturday afternoon, while I was writing last week’s post, we had fantastic plans to watch the Mayor’s Thames Festival fireworks and explore St Katherine’s Docks near Tower Bridge. Instead we were tempted by a Saturday night out in Clapham, only 8 stops south on the Northern Line, and discovered that we can still party until the wee hours, even if the recovery period is a little longer. The issue with partying in Clapham is not that every second person seems to be an Aussie (from Brisbane) or that it is a struggle to hold a conversation without yelling at the top of your lungs, it is simply that the tube stops at 12.30am.
For a city that has anything else available at any hour, it seems very strange that their brilliant transport hub shuts down between 12.30am and 5am every night. Since we are not going to ride a “Boris Bike” home after a few pints or catch an expensive London taxi, we are left with very few options to get back to our cosy room in Shadwell. Option 1 is to find somewhere to hang out for a couple of hours after closing (3am) to catch the first tube home at 5am. Option 2 is to find the closest bus stop and catch 3 night busses home with the rest of London’s stranded drunks. Thinking we were smart and capable, we chose the night bus option and arrived home, with no voices left, just as the first signs of sunlight were starting to creep over the horizon.
So we spent Sunday afternoon relaxing at home and splurging on EasyJet flights to Lyon, Prague, Amsterdam and the French Alps in December. Fingers crossed our passports are returned from the UK Border Agency by then!
On Monday I was up early (7am) to start my first day of 2 weeks work as a temp in a property management office. This whole ‘work life’ thing is a little foreign to us at the moment as neither of us has worked for more than a couple of shifts since early May.
I am going to be honest and tell you that by Wednesday I was exhausted and questioning every reason why I needed to work at all. With Dan exhausted from job hunting and general house husband tasks that were filling his days at home, we enjoyed an amazing Indian take-away meal that I am sure is responsible for my work pants being little bit tighter the following morning.
It was only then that we checked our bank balance and calculated that this kind of lifestyle is not one that we could easily afford to maintain. After having to pay for new passports, visas and foot surgery in France, unfortunately our number one reason that we need to take a break from travelling and get a job is money…
Here are another 5 reasons you know it is time to take a break from travelling and get a job:
1. Your waking hours are between 1pm and 3am every day and “Thelma’s Gypsy Girls” at 9pm becomes your regular ‘daytime television’ show. Ps. I now know not to refer to myself as a “Traveller”, especially in a job interview…
2. Your thongs and favourite travelling shoes need to be replaced as your paper-thin soles are starting to get holes in them. Your ‘work shoes’ are still in the bottom of your backpack and could be full of spiders… you haven’t seen them in a while, so who knows?
3. A single piece of toasted bread, with a thick layer of Vegemite, is a viable meal option for breakfast, lunch and dinner. When you find the Vegemite that is, otherwise just the toast is fine.
4. When you are so over hostels and hotels that you rent a room in London for 3 months to use as a base. Then you realise that you have been in London for a month and you need to pay the next month’s rent…
5. When you eventually clean the floor of your rented room you find half a jar of Vegemite, an empty box of crackers and a few slices of cheese hiding amongst the pile of dirty professional work clothes that you needed for an interview 2 weeks ago. The one where you referred to yourself as a traveller… You are still waiting for a call back.
First Published on: Sep 16, 2012 @ 12:30 #12monthhoneymoon