London on A Geek's Life

Stripping, (TV) Binges and Thinking About Thinking

Mon, 05 Aug 2019 19:53:03 +0000

By some unexpected twist of fate, I found myself heading into Central London on the hottest day of the year, a fairly tropical 37 degrees Celsius, and that for the first time since last December. The destination was the Nigeria High Commission on Northumberland Avenue, the plan to get my expired Nigerian passport renewed. To get here I had had to jump through several tortuous loops, not helped by the fact that my trips down to England are scheduled months in advance with impromptu trips being aggressively minimised due to the costs. My takeaway from my dealings with the appointment’s system was that the (re)scheduling system could be significantly improved - first, you sign up via a third party web service, pay the booking fees and then get randomly assigned a date, one you can only change to a more suitable one by emailing back and forth, no less than six in my case – which meant in addition to the heat I very much had my mind prepared for a terrible experience which could potentially take the whole day. It might have been my low expectations, but the experience was far less stressful than I expected, sans the slow pace at which things trundled along from picking a ticket to getting called for an initial review and then submitting my biometric details. If there was a silver lining, it was that the slow pace of things – and the very many other Nigerians there for similar purposes – increased the likelihood of running into people I had not seen in a long time; 20 plus years and two kids in one case. That the most unsettling thing from all of that was wondering what the scrawny lad I ended up sitting across from on the tube from Charing Cross to Waterloo was up - to whilst reading from 2nd Corinthians 1 in a huge bible - is a miracle of sorts (events at the High Commission didn’t leave me mentally drained as they have in the past) or perhaps only the symptom of my low expectations.

#24. The Garden Bridge Resolution

Fri, 28 Apr 2017 17:51:58 +0000

With several cost overruns, a muddled award process and potential conflicts of interest, L ondon’s Garden Bridge has finally being put out of its misery. #WhiteElephant

– Image Source

About Town: Weird gifts, names and Children on Trains

Sat, 24 Sep 2016 06:44:20 +0000

Sometime ago, not without some misgivings I must add, I moved desks at work, all part of the new re-stacking policy designed around optimising our use of space. Following the move, I went from a desk which looked on into the central corridor with my computer facing away from the door to one where my view was the bus station across the road. The view was decidedly an upgrade, what came with it though was a sense of being blinded to people milling about behind me and coming in to meet me, particularly on the occasions when I have my head phones plugged in to maximise my concentration.

Nine Fridays of Summer: London, Again.

Tue, 02 Aug 2016 12:15:58 +0000

I never cease to be amazed by how flights which ostensibly last an hour end up morphing into all day affairs, which leads me to think that flying is perhaps one of the greatest swindles on earth. In my experience, by the time one arrives at the airport, goes through security and then waits to board, the better part of two hours has very easily been burned. When the inner city travel requirements are tacked on, everything very easily rolls up to between three and four hours. On this occasion, my flight due to leave at 12.05 pm ends up delayed which is how it is well past 4.00 pm by the time my train rolls into Romford where I plan on basing myself on this trip. All that leaves me is time to get myself checked into my room, find a quick bite and then start heading back to the O2 Arena for the opening night of the Hillsong Conference Europe, which is my primary reason for this trip.

Nine Fridays of Summer: Sleepers, Stratford and basking in Sunshine

Tue, 19 Jul 2016 19:39:06 +0000

She is wolfing down a doughnut, cup of coffee in hand when I appear, trying to find my assigned seat. I feel like I have startled her somewhat, given how quickly she begins to organise the stuff she has all over the place. The sense of having intruded on a private, unguarded moment is made worse by finding my assigned seat is across from her, in seats so tight our feet play that dance of hide and seek beneath the table until we find a system that works.

#39 - Mayfair

Wed, 10 Feb 2016 21:22:48 +0000

Mayfair, 28th November 2015.

I feel like the travel bug is rearing its head again..

3-5 go

Fri, 10 Jul 2015 11:30:39 +0000

Amara U, Flickr

It is perhaps indicative of just how activity-starved my life has been lately that all it takes is a week’s notice for me to drag myself across the 397 odd miles down south to join K, family and parents in celebrating 35 years of staying married. In fairness to her, Royal Mail had a hand in the late invitation; when she texted me frantically that Friday afternoon, it was with a mind to chide me for my legendary tardiness. Only my strenuous denials backed up by the fact that I had moved houses recently saved me in the end. Long story short, I ended up on Friday night in the comparatively upscale setting of South Harrow, the hub around which we all converged - from every nook and cranny of the world it seemed, Scotland ably represented by yours truly.

The Sense of An Ending

Thu, 20 Feb 2014 23:53:32 +0000

Having given the subject of my proposed trip to London to see LK a lot of thought, I resolved that the sensible thing was not to go through it. Two main things stood out in my head as valid reasons for this position - she was due to go away for a much deserved holiday the day after and didn’t deserve to go under a cloud, and perhaps more importantly I felt we were at a level of irritation at which constructive conversation was well nigh impossible. I thus penned a lengthy email exploring my feelings and explaining my decisions which I intended to send through to her after we had had a quick chat.

Of Journeys and returns

Thu, 01 Aug 2013 21:40:51 +0000

London was warm, a tad too warm if the truth must be told. And dry - well, except for that wretched Saturday evening, which in keeping with my rotten luck with these things, was the one day I decided to be out and about into the wee hours of the morning. Other than that, the contrast with the ‘Deen couldn’t have been starker – wet, barely nudging 19 degree weather and warm, dry, 26 degree weather and sunshine, separated by the small matter of sixty five minutes of flying.

About Town - London Balling

Wed, 13 Feb 2013 23:02:53 +0000

The little kid - he’s barely eleven months - plods after his mother, hanging onto her left leg, and bawling. She has her hair swept back, hidden by the folds of the scarf she has around her head, is bedecked in baggy pants and has that forlorn, tired look only the hassle of splitting her attention between steaming pots of rice, partly boiled chicken and her 11 month old bundle of energy can cause.

Neither here nor There

Fri, 08 Feb 2013 21:43:31 +0000

TOj and I have maintained extensive conversations over the last couple of weeks or so. But in what must surely count for an oddity, the outcome of the conversations is the sense of being neither here nor there. It might be the fact that we have always known each other in a different context that’s added a layer of awkwardness to it all.

The big question, looming large at the back of my mind therefore is if it’s time to cut my losses to ensure we remain just friends, or if it’s worth the gamble of finding out how she feels about me.

London calling...

Tue, 15 Jan 2013 04:22:47 +0000

London calls… Having manfully beaten its lure over the holidays to enable a much needed season of introspection, I had to cave in to summons over the phone from my Uncle C, especially because he and el madre seemed to be in cahoots on this one.

Ostensibly, the reason for the summons are my lack of endeavour in the girl stakes. My strategy has been to keep them in the dark on the details of my love life/ non-love life. Somehow Uncle C convinced Mum that our corner of the world up in Scotland is a hell hole of sorts with next to zero prospects of meeting eligible women, hence the need to get me out there in London.

Weekends of debauchery, blasts from the past and a return to a home of sorts

Mon, 03 Sep 2012 22:22:46 +0000

Three quarters of the way through the year, I find I still have just under three weeks of holidays left - and that does not include the productivity black-hole that is the last week of December when all and sundry truly grinds to a halt. Once again, in spite of my plans to not be in this situation, I have ended up hoarding holidays again, the plan being to use them as a make weight in lieu of notice as my plan to swap cold, windy, Aberdeen for the slightly warmer, but more rural climes that are Kirkland Lake. The BossMan has made it clear there will be no carry overs this year, and he has made sure to ping the appropriate warning email in my direction in addition to the automated ones sent by our holiday tracking software. All told after one too many reminders, I log on to Teamseer and fire off holiday requests for an extended weekend.

Memories of a city...

Sun, 07 Nov 2010 21:12:23 +0000

The difference is clear - the first few blasts of slightly warm air as I step out of onto the tarmac are the clearest reminder that I have left my small town’s five degree weather behind for at least a couple of days. It is a year almost to the day since I last passed through London - that blatantly self centred and most cosmopolitan of cities - and as usual I feel ill at ease. Blame my small town mentality - in the little corner of the world where I grew up, every one knew every one else and their grand mother.. and their second cousins twice removed. One was as likely to get whupped by the bloke down the street who felt you were up to no good as you were by your own father..