It’s the end of January, and the third week of my second term is already drawing to a close. It’s almost shocking – a quarter of the term done and dusted! I’m so much more relaxed about everything this semester; I even know where I am most of the time, and how to get where I want to go.
Yes: I am truly becoming a Londoner. I elbow tourists out of my path, I’ve mastered the subtle [violent] art of securing a tube seat, I’ve even located the elusive Reading Room [Dumbledore’s office] in the Maughan library! It is just as circular and book-filled as all accounts led me to believe. Thanks to my transferable London skills, I’m now looking to elbow my way into a Reading Room seat on a regular basis.
I celebrated my return to King’s by making a complete tit of myself with Mel and Lucy, who hung around long enough to share in the shame. Yes – we did the Abbey Road walk across the road. About eight times. If I were a bus, I wouldn’t stop.
Ever since Week One, I’ve made it my personal mission to force all my King’s friends to sample that centrepiece of Australian cuisine: vegemite. All victims have survived thus far. They’ve even pretended to enjoy it, the poor things.
Happy Australia Day.
I went around to Miki’s house last Sunday and watched dvds and ate delicious, delicious food. I would be thoroughly inconsolable about my lack of such food on a regular basis except for the fact that I’ve recently experienced something of a culinary breakthrough. Suddenly I am a Masterchef! King of my own calm kitchen. (And il n’y a pas de anything else.)
It reminds me of my childhood....
Mostly, this food is thanks to the recipe book Grandma gave me for Christmas – but being armed with a bunch of willing co-chefs has certainly helped. Kyveli, Polly and I made some knock-out pad thai that didn’t kill us like we expected it to, and then watched Bridget Jones. I’ve never noticed how much of it is set in Borough Market. And we also spotted the Royal Courts of Justice, which are just across the road from the Strand Campus.
Kyveli’s flat was gorgeous – though Polly and I had to earn our right of entrance by taking the terrifying lift, which seems to have been designed in the Titanic era of iron inner doors that you have to shove aside by hand.
Dessert was another success, when Muney and Josh came around for brownie baking. The boys hadn’t been having much luck in the kitchen, but together, we are an indomitable force.
Zumba: the only thing between me and triumphant obesity. It’s a wonderful London life.
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