24 hours in London

Having survived the 13 and a half hour flight from KL to London, my re-entry into the western world for the first time in 417 days went pretty smoothly.  Even Heathrow was kind to me and I was through immigration and had my bags in 30 minutes.

I hopped on the wildly overpriced ($30.70 for a one way-ticket) but super convenient Heathrow Express and 15 minutes later I was at Paddington Station.  A quick glance at the Tube map (Bakerloo to Victoria - how could I have forgotten?) and I was bound for Brixton - a trendy London borough which had a bit of reputation the last time I hauled out to South London (2003) that is known for it's Afro-Caribbean flavor. Gentrification has set in the last 9 years and now it's one of the trendiest, most diverse and almost affordable places to live in London.

Like other major cities around the world, Londoners are not particularly famed for their friendliness. But in the nearly two years since I was last in the UK, I had completely forgotten about that unfailing, unrelenting habit British people have of saying 'please' and 'thank you'.  (In Malaysia, you simply get 'can' or 'cannot' in response to virtually every question - or statement.) I had also completely forgotten about the British love of forming a queue.

My route to Brixton involved a change at Oxford Street - London's premier shopping district - at 6:00 on a Saturday with only three weeks until Christmas.  I was gobsmacked by the orderliness of it all.  Anywhere in Southeast Asia (Singapore excepted) this would have resulted in a massive free for all - pushing, shoving, elbowing, stomping on feet - but instead people waited patiently for passengers to exit (what a concept!) and then in an orderly fashion we crammed ourselves into the carriage, while others waited patiently on the platform for the following train that was just a minute or two behind.

It was bliss. I can't remember the last time I felt that relaxed on public transportation!

I arrived in Brixton and met up with my dear friend and hostess, Rachel, and we set off for a delightful little restaurant called Honest Burger in Brixton Village (If you like a good old-fashioned burger, a touch on the rare side with delicious toppings such as cranberry relish, fried camembert, watercress and poppy seeds - this is the place for you.)

Our walk to Brixton Village brought me face to face with a crosswalk (or to be a Brit about it, zebra crossing).  We approached the crosswalk and Rachel just strolled into the street.  I remained glued to the pavement, braced for Rachel's swift and sudden demise by a car careening down the street at approximately 200 miles an hour.  She got across, I looked up, noticed a car waiting patiently for me to cross and she said, 'what the hell are you doing?' It all came rushing back, and I thought to myself, 'I could play at the this zebra crossing all day.  It's amazing.'

My 24 hours in London went by all too quickly, and now I'm in Chicago - London's chief rival for my affection (London or Chicago, I can never settle on a favorite)..

Anyway, since my return I've been maintaining a list of wonderful things I've forgotten about and/or previously took completely for granted:

• toilet paper
• dry bathrooms (with no muddy footprints on the toilet seat)
• real napkins that are not made of tissue/toilet paper
• knives in restaurants
• large gaps between cars travelling at high speeds
• a strict adherence to red lights and other traffic signals
• a complete lack of illegal parking
• people who walk at an acceptable speed (no Malaysian shuffle here!)

In short, I don't mean for this to sound like some anti-Asia rant, it's just really, really good to be home. 

Oh and for the record, I am completely embracing the cold weather.  It's so refreshing.