Showing posts with label Oyster. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Oyster. Show all posts

Tuesday, 8 May 2012

Milkshakes and Ice-cream

It is funny how a simple Friday evening can get so complicated all of a sudden. We all have terribly busy weekdays, so that making up for all the 'wasted time' is absolutely essential for the sake of the full enjoyment of our miserable commuting lifes.

Let's say last Friday, we organises a very busy Friday Evening starting by one of the pop-up concerts celebrated at St Pancras Station that have been happening from February until last Thursday. Bringing the subject of pop-up events mentioned already last week, this Station Sessions were so pop-up that although were heavily advertised by Twitter, and in spite of going around the station a couple of time we were not able to find the stage.

Resigne by the epic failure after rushing through the infinite tunnels of the underground at King's Cross, we managed to make it on time, at the announced time. But still, we couldn't find them. Not very happy with the outcome of the start of the little adventure, we located the Eurostar counter, hoping to find a bargain ticket to go to Paris, as one of those crazy improvised things that happen spontaneously every now and then and become absolute topic of conversation for months. Unfortunately, although realisable, the improvisation would have costed us around 200 pounds per person. In stead, we decided to invest that money in ourself by treating us with a milkshake in a nearby coffee shop (while making a pact between us of not to mention the shameful attempt of going to Paris with not so successful result).

While escaping from the masses of the commuting home, I remembered how the new Concourse at King's Cross had just been renovated after months or probably years of works in the area. Looking like one of those very high-end new airports (*cough cough* Madrid Barajas), KC certainly showed an impressive new face, with a very interesting structural mesh at the ceiling, illuminated with an eye-catching pink light. Good one for the Olympics, we all thought.



After a few minutes decided we had enough of architecture for the day, my Twitter advised me of the exact location due to the guys in charge of the event. Turns out, the gig was going to happen, it was just that it was SO pop-up that literally bloomed in seconds. By the time we reached the Eurostar check-in area of the station, we finally bumped into the small crowd around the band: Clock Opera. The super-recognisable beard of the lead singer plus the red stripy jumper of the guitarist were noticeable enough to find them too at the Camden Crawl on Sunday. Small world.


As the time was passing by, the need for a very well reviewed milkshake by our friend K was digging an even bigger hole in our estomacs. After the band finished playing, without hesitation, we run into Drink Shop Do.

If I remember well, the previous weekend, we kind of did the same action of visiting this very quirky Coffee/Cocktail Bar on a Friday Evening with not very big results as it was fully booked and extremely busy. It was a shame as there was a competition going on to carve in clay the face of Lionel Richie.

This time we came earlier, but still, most of the tables were already booked so we had to use one table knowing firmly that we should leave it after an hour or so. 





Still not sure if it was just our imagination being affected by the hunger we had or it was just genuinely bad, but certainly the wait to be served took way longer than our guts wanted. In fact, the feeling of the time ticking to evacuate the table was not in our first wishes. After around 15 minutes of uncertainty, a waitress informed us that the ice-cream, (note that it was barely 5:30pm, on a Friday) had run out and therefore the milkshakes would have none of it. We all shared a common face of odd-ness, like in a cartoon, raising comically one of our brows, at the same time we were giving enormous disapproval looks. 

After recovering for the shock and after a couple of misunderstandings between the staff and us, we decided that the awkwardness was higher than our hunger for a very expensive milkshake, so we waved goodbye (and got our money back) feeling strangely betrayed and went on our hunt to find another place  to feed our empty souls.


Trying to come up with an explanation of actually the failed third attempt to stay at this place, we decided to move on and keep our root of tasks for the day, so we headed to Shoreditch. Blaming it on the uncertainty, we took the longest and most uncomfortable route to the East End, deeply ignoring the presence of the Overground or the "famous three" to Shoredich High Street. In stead, we took the painful tunnel from Pentoville Road up to the Northern Line branch to Moorgate, and have the walk or our lifes until we reached our destination (actually it is not that bad, but felt infinite). 

We finally reached Richmix with a terribly empty stomach. Fortunately arriving on time, we had the opportunity to see first hand a display of the polymeric clay street artist CityzenKane, which I have been admiring since I first set a foot on Brick Lane. Even though the display was not very big, it was a big oportunity to see a good range of his pieces all together, in stead of having to find them on the streets of London, where they usually get vandalised (CZN's Lord Jagannath has been removed recently)




On the Mezzanine floor, a small photography exhibition about British Sub-culture. Really good portraits. And it's free. We all love freebies, don't we? 


The last step for our very elaborated plan involved proper sitting down for a decent meal. Taking the overground back North, at its last stop, Highbury & Islington and a couple of bus stops after we arrived at my beloved The Beach Hut. Our first decision was to study the level of hunger to ask for an appropriate size for their delicious fish and chips. Still, no matter the size you ask for, the portions are always extremely big.



A big piece of cod with proper hand cut chips and a cream soda after, playing some Tic Tac Toe, our stomachs still had some room for the best thing about the Beach Hut: THE ICE-CREAM. Two glorious gigantic scoops of ice-cream, that in my case were Honey & Lavender and Coconut settled the night and we went home to die of joy. 



Friday evening not necessarily as smooth as planned, but definitely worth trying. 

Thursday, 22 March 2012

Normal routine




The task of highly engineering your journey starts the moment you wake up. These mathematical actions of the rutine get perfectioned during the course of time and cannot be developed from day one.

As everybody knows, engineering requires the domain of different arts, combination of multiple skills and the hability to put them together for a good use.

The night before, while preparing your tea or right afterwards (remember not to let yourself relax of the pumped up stated of mind after surviving the evening rush hour), you should prepare your next day meal, bits and pieces for snack and breakfast included taking on account that you, must probably, will have to eat said meal without the aid of a microwaves and while seating in front of the computer. Not too juicy. Not too smelly. Not too messy. Options are reduced to a third.

Before going to bed, you careful select the outfit of the day, checking the very unreliable weather prediction and selecting the appropriate footwear for it. You prepare you lunchbag, your normal bag, and you set two alarms at the needed time in the morning. One alarm is never enough.

Forgot to say that it is essential to play as a team at home. I find essential to organise turns of coffee-maker hobbing, so that the first housemate that comes out of the shower, is the one in charge of laying a row of cups, put a spoonful of sugar and brewing that Illy coffee while the rest come downstairs. The caffetiere has been carefully filled with water and ground coffee the night before, just in case I forgot to mention it.

As the alarm goes of, the job is quite straight forward. Shower, teeth, makeup, clothes, coffee (and a biscuit if there is time) and off to the tube.

The pace of walking has already been determined by previous trial-and-error experiments. After a while, it is natural. No time for double checks. You've left your phone. Shame.

You know you're late because your 6:45 alert of 'No Disruptionson your line' from National Rail on your phone indicates that you should be halfway drinking your coffee. Passing by the blonde lady neighbourgh at X part of the street indicates the exact minute. If you find her next to your door, you're late.

Approaching the tube station, the Oyster card should be already in your hands. No time from Armageddon speeches from the Pentecostal church down the road. Develop the skillfull task of picking up one, I mean ONE issue of Metro newspaper without deacceleating the pace along the corridor. Same action while touching in the Oyster. Turn to the left to the right corridor of your usual southbound while, with the corner of you eye you check that any of your possible paths to point B is not disrupted.

Train is approaching while walking down the stairs but you know that it strategically waits a few more seconds to be filled with commuters of the line in front, to cope with the flow of passengers. You should arrive to your carriage keeping your cool, not panting. Change at your designated station. Always arrives with a couple of minutes of cushion. Time for placing yourself on the desired tile, next to the forth yellow spot on the platform. Strategic door to come right in front of the best exit to the final stop.

While climbing up the scalator, phone, Oyster and train tickets should be already in hand. Touch out. Oyster to the bag. Congratulate yourself. You made it in one piece to the big station. Put a smile on your face while you walk to your usual platform number X. Happiness disturb fellow commuters.

If lucky, you will get a freebie that day. Cereals, Oyster wallet, organic moisturiser, voucher for 50p off of Lurpak...



I'm hungry now.



Get your freebie without loosing your tickets. Tickets that have been strategically collected the day before as you arrived from work. Placed on the plastic wallet in order of usage. Outward trip. Plusbus. Return. Receipt. Visa.



Get in. Sit down. Think.



You've realised you've developed very strong OCDs.



Welcome to my life