It's been a shitty year (literally and metaphorically) so far. I came back to London the 30th of december. I became ill on New Years Eve, so couldn't really enjoy the Mumford & Sons NYE party much (they were great though). Crashed at a friends house in Camden [I just realized that over the past 3 weeks, I've slept in 5 different beds, which is nearly a record] and continued to be ill for the next couple a days, spending most of my time on the toilet.
And ofcourse when I came home the first of January, my student oyster card had arrived... just after I had put 10 pounds on my other oyster card. great.
I was feeling a bit better on Sunday, so I decided to go to the centre. Unfortanutely I was shown another bright side of the beauty that is British public transport... First I had to wait about half an hour at Kenton station before a subway arrived, which is ridiculously long, especially in tube terms. Then the tube didn't go between Stonebridge Park and Queens Park, so everyone had to go on a 'replacement service' bus to Queens Park. After 10 minutes, the bus broke down. Everyone had to get off and go on another bus. A replacement bus for the replacement bus, oh the irony.
After half an hour we finally got to Queens Park. At first there weren't any tubes going from there aswell, and we were supposed to take an Overground train to Euston. I waited 20 minutes in the freezing cold for that damn train, and when everyone got on, some London Underground people came in and said the tubes were going after all, so again; everyone got off and got on the tube...
Only then I realized I'd have to go trough this hell all over again if I wanted to go back home. On the way back, the tubes did go to Queens Park straight away, however, not without stopping several times without actually being at a tube station. There was also some psycho on the tube, who thought it would be fun to smoke some cigarettes inside the carriage.
Then, from the bus at Queens Park untill outside Kenton station I was followed around by some Paki psycho, who kept on smiling at me and following me. Seriously, why do these fuckin lunatics always come after me?
Yesterday was my first day of school in London. I had set my alarm clock to 05.30, but woke up at 07.15... the exact time I was supposed to leave the house for school. So back to no shower, no breakfast, just straight to school.
Half of the people in my General English class were absent, as eventually only 7 of the supposedly 14 people were in class. My teacher, Ross, is a pretty uptight guy, with a Welsh accent and he doesn't look students in the eye, which at first made me believe he was blind. The class was rather boring, and it reminded me of my Business English lessons in Oxford, because the 'job interview roleplaying' seemed rather familiar.
The IELTS elective class was quite low level, but the teacher was pretty cool. Proper facial hair and all. Find him a bit awkward though.
After school I went for lunch with some nice Korean girls and later on we went to a pub with a shitload of other 'new' students. I had a hard time trying to convince a 19 year old Brazilian that the drinking age in Britain is 18 and not 21, and I had the most awful pint of fake Guinness ever.
So that's it for the new year so far. Let's hope it gets better.
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