lumière des étoiles

London Calling
2004-01-07 11:54 a.m.

There's nothing like a 72 hour party to make you feel young again. New Year's Eve consisted of drinks, dancing, and more drinks, alternately at Damian's flat in Bristol and a proper drum and bass night at a club called Timbuktu. New joke that got old pretty fast: we spent New Year's at Timbuktu! Har har. The club was underground, with low ceilings painted blue and yellow, fabulous people and two good DJs. It looked like this:

Spinning is such an art, such performance in Europe, especially in England. I remember at 19 years old awkwardly wondering exactly where to go and what to do when I was in the middle of a London club called The Velvet Underground and everyone stood watching the DJ intently. It's not like in New York, where it's accepted that the DJ is just there, in the background, or, more likely, out of sight, high above the dancefloor or in a little booth closed away from the crowd. It is beautiful to see the awe and admiration of the crowd for the DJ's job well done; it adds so much to the intensity of the music and the energy of the night.

After all the group hugs, happy new year wishes, and loads of drinks, Damian, here with me and Steve,

was nice enough to let us - us being Steve and myself, his brothers, and various other friends - continue our party at his place, fall asleep around 6 am, and then get up slowly around 2 pm. In fact, he even made us what I'm told is a "proper breakfast", which consisted of too much meat and baked beans for my poor stomach.

Being up so late/early that night/morning and being probably the most sober one of the bunch allowed me to engage in one of my favorite activities: taking photos of everyone while they're still properly sauced. The resulting photos are fun - too many to post here - and a few actually came out nicely.

Steve met the Jordan brothers, Sean and Martin, while they were all teaching in Taiwan. It was strange and amusing to be incorporated into that part Steve's life these past few weeks, to see a part of his past and memories of his stories come alive. I see why he's so intent on maintaining his close friendship with them. Their and their family's warmth overwhelmed us and truly made us feel at home. Instantaneously I felt accepted and cared for, especially by the boys' parents. It felt really good that as we took off for New York, Steve leaned his head on my shoulder and told me that he loves Sean's family so much because they remind him of mine. I took it as a huge compliment because of the closeness I observed in the Jordan family during our visit with them.

Before we got to Bristol, we spent the previous day and night in Bath, one of my favorite places in England. We left from London a few hours before noon, making sure to sit on the left side of the bus to get the best view possible of the countryside. Oddly enough, despite having a temperature that is similar to New York's, England seems to remain lush and green all the time, which makes it one of my favorite places to visit during winter. We ran around Bath during the day, playing a bit in Victoria Park, a maze of hedges and high stone walls covered in Ivy. We kissed a lot

and I listened to the walls tell me ancient stories.

Bath was a sort of retreat for the Romans, you see, since they'd somewhat invaded and conquered the entire area by about 43 AD. They liked Bath in particular for the natural hot springs that are there, and created temples and houses around the springs to make themselves feel at home. We visited these ruins at night, which felt authentically spooky and beautiful.

The stone ruins of Bath, appropriately, always call up some Shakespearean fantasy for me; some image I'd created long ago of Nymphs and Goddesses and Roman adornment. We left before I could give in to my urge to dive in to the water despite the cold.

We shopped a bit at Lush, my all-time favorite natural cosmetics store. We weren't exactly rolling in it given that the exchange rate was $1.89/the British Pound, but I couldn't resist just a few purchases: The Arabian Bright henna hair moisturizer, Demon in the Dark soap, and a few bath fizzies.

I forgave myself, since we'd come from London the day before, which is as wonderful as it is crowded and stressful for your skin, given the poor air quality. We hit the tourist-y spots the day we arrived, since it'd been a while since we'd gone traipsing about the place. Look, kids:

Over the Thames stands Tower bridge, which is a fascinating place to let the wind kick up your hair, since climbing to the top provides a great view.

Though I love the Met in New York, I must say London's British Museum has one up on it. The Rosetta Stone is there, which is endlessly fascinating for nerds like us who want to know how things are done and whatit all means, never being satisfied with just looking at the pretty, old inscriptions in the Egyptian wing. Steve just loved it all

and I was fascinated by the library's collection.

Every time I return from England I literally am ready to move there, thinking seriously about housing costs and job possibilities. This urge in me was bolstered by my reading about a police officer shot to death not too far from Leeds, the FIRST ONE IN EIGHT YEARS. As I was explaining to my friends that such a story wouldn't have made our national media because there just would have been too many officers shot in one month in New York alone for attention to be paid, word came through that the murderer was an US Citizen who happened to be living in the UK. Kind of answers the question of why Europeans are so surprised when they find they like me. Sometimes it's hard to fight those wonderful impressions we make on the rest of the world.

xoxo,

I Heart Notes!