The Constabulary

June has seen two encounters with the Metropolitan Police, the guardians of law and order in greater London.

The first episode was on a Saturday night, or more properly Sunday morning. Having had a little bit of a late one, Lou had just gone to bed, and I was thinking of turning in at about 2am. Just getting to bed, and we were woken to the sounds of a phalanx of rowdy people storming the stairs to one of the upstairs flats, accompanied by some well-meaning girls yelling – shh shh. They get in and decide to turn on the bass, it was reasonably loud to be fair. This continued until about 4.15, when some random neighbour from around the way managed to raise the party on the intercom (which is located just outside our bedroom so we hear everything). The jist of it was the neighbour was incensed, and thought that the noise was far too loud, it happens too frequently (not a great sign), and that they had woken his entire family. The party responded by saying ‘it’s a Saturday night mate’, only a valid linguistic form if you are an Australian (these guys a rich English lads).

Nicely enough, they did go turn the music down, from over loud to just loud for the sizeable period of what felt like 5 minutes. No sleep was had, and Lou tried to call the council, but to no avail as the noise control officers stop work at 3am. We tried to use the intercom to get in touch with them and were not heard/ignored.

However, the cavalry arrived at 5.30am with the police trying to access the building. Lou kindly let them in, as she had arisen to go for a walk. In charge the police, and first politely try and bang on the door with their truncheon announcing that it was da police. Again, the party can’t hear them and thus the police are up for a bit of action so call for the enforcers (the battering ram people). Looking back now I think that the party realised the police had arrived and were hastily disposing of or consuming whatever drugs they had left. Anyway, the party do finally let in the police, just before the enforcers turn up. A stern talking to is given to the resident (who firstly denies being a resident, then sheepishly admit it when the police demand whoever is in charge to come out), and then out trot 12 young cool and hip people to the now quiet residential street. We were impressed by the level of response, 3 police cars with 6 officers, following up on what was apparently quite a few complaints.

Post script to this was a very sheepish young toff coming down and apologising the next day, Mr somebody somebody Esq. Good on him for showing the balls to apologise.

The next incident happened on a Wednesday night following a game of netball in Shepherd’s Bush. Lou and I were waiting at the bus stop – I hear an Oi!, I look round and there are 2 beeps on a horn and some guy has run onto the road and is hit by a small car, just avoiding a cyclist. London hasn't yet rubbed off to the extent that I don't care about anyone other than myself so I figured as I was a witness I needed to stick around.

The poor driver is quite upset, so have a quick chat to her. However the guy has disappeared around the corner. He is sitting down on the ground, and says he is ‘solid’ in an Irish accent. Being skinny, he is meaning he is fine, and he wants to go to the pub to meet his mates. ‘Let's walk to them’ I suggest, suspecting a tiny bit of bravado. He manages 2 steps before needing to stop, with that I try and support him, but he is having none of that and falls to the ground. So I prop him up, send some random girl to find his mates, and call an ambulance, with a side of police.

His mates turn up, and are very keen to move him away, saying he doesn’t need an ambulance. Taking quite a strong line with them was required, as there was no way he was moving anywhere, and being big lads it was a little confrontational. From my basic bit of medical knowledge I reckoned he had either a bruised or broken thigh. Finally convinced the boys that they need to let the professionals handle it.

So the police turn up first, and take statements from everyone, I was impressed by their handle on things, and their easy manner with all parties. Ambulance arrives less than 5 minutes after my call, and start looking at the victim. He is still professing that he is ‘solid’ and so the ambulance officer jokes and says ‘well I’ll be off then’. But the poor victim is in a bit of pain so gets the good stuff, some nitrous oxide, or laughing gas, which I had when I got KO’d and broke my thumb at Aussie Rules. It is pretty good at numbing the pain. So the dude is safely in the ambulance and Lou and I go head home. Made for a late night.

Wembley

Before we arrived on English shores, my club, West Bromwich Albion had made the FA Cup semi-finals. So this created a bit of excitement in the Yarrall family ranks, as Dad is a long term shareholder in the club, having been convinced to buy into the initial float in the early 90’s whilst on a boat following a long day in the sun after an England-South Africa cricket test.

Given that this was likely to be a once in a lifetime chance to see WBA in a FA Cup semi final at Wembley, a foreign concept to supporters of the likes of Arsenal, Manchester United et al, we thought it would be a worthwhile introduction for Louise into the football experience in the UK.

During many of the first calls home, Dad was always wondering how ticket purchasing was going. Poor was my inevitable response as the only way you could get a ticket was to have proof of having been on the club’s ticket database in the last 10 years. Given the last time we had been to a WBA game was in 1997, before the ticketing database was established meant we failed to reach the minimum requirements for a ‘club’ ticket. With all the other tickets held by corporates and season ticket holders, there were no official tickets available.

This meant we would have to follow the more risky ticket option of turning up to the game and buying off some dodge reseller. As Lou’s brother put it, the good thing about England is that you can turn up to any game and there is bound to be someone trying to make a buck from their ticket. Knowing our chances of getting a ticket were OK, Lou and I set off to Wembley.

The actual ticket purchasing options were fine once we got there, as a company was trying to flog off their tickets as no-one had wanted to go! I managed to pay the reasonable sum of £100 per ticket (face value of £160), not bad, but certainly a shock as we were still converting to NZD ($250 to those who care). Tickets were seated in the club level, and came with a free programme, which was a nice touch. Actually ended up sitting next to the brother in law of the WBA director of football who was a pleasant chap to talk to. We were situated behind the Portsmouth fans, which was a little disappointing, but they provided excellent vocal support for their team.

The pre-game atmosphere dominated anything Kelburn Park could produce, with 80,000 fans milling around, performing various witty chants. There was not a great deal of aggro going on, probably due to the great numbers of fluoro vested police officers.

As far as the game went, WBA dominated the first half, but failed to get close enough to seriously pressure the Portsmouth goal. Having not got the breakthrough I figured that we were going to struggle in the second half and sure enough we conceded soon after half time and spent the rest of the fixture chasing the game. However a number of positives did arise, firstly as Louise so quaintly put it, as least we wont have to pay for a FA Cup Final ticket, and secondly, WBA played well enough to suggest that they will be able to battle respectfully next season in the Premiership and not face the ignominy of another Derby County style season.

All in all, a great introduction into the world of English football for Louise, and hopefully we will be able to get to a few more games when the new season starts.

Geneva

We went on our first overseas trip the first weekend in May (bank holiday so 3 day weekend). We decided we should visit Geneva as our first trip, to see where Lou’s sister and brother-in-law (Helen and Carlo) live. It was a nice lazy trip as our tour guides did all the talking for us, so we didn’t need to think about conversing in French or Italian.
Had an incredible weekend, enjoyed great hospitality from the von Farinas, complete with fresh pastries and home made muesli for breakfast each day. Went for a wander through the old town, taking in St Peter’s cathedral including the amazing views from the top. Had lunch in the sunshine followed by a wander around the lake and then a boat trip on it. We were really luck to hit a weekend full of sun so the place looked amazing, with snow capped mountains surrounding us, but able to wear shorts for the first time since arriving six weeks ago. Enjoyed a lovely dinner outside with a couple of Helen and Carlo’s friends.
Sunday we drove about an hour to Montreaux to visit the Chateau de Chillon, a really old castle right on the edge of the lake. Well worth the visit. Another lunch in the sun (pizza yum) and meandered back to Geneva with a couple of stops along the way to take in the views and sunshine.
Arrived back in London on Monday afternoon laden with duty free Swiss chocolate and feeling well refreshed. We will work on our French before we visit again!

Flat Hunting

While Lou found a job very quickly and was out earning our keep each day, Dean was busily hunting for somewhere for us to live.We loved staying with Lou’s brother and his girlfriend in their lovely flat in Kilburn (NW London) and felt we knew the area well now. However to make Dean’s commute to work south of London a bit easier, we decided to look for a place in Clapham Junction. Luckily we really love the place, tons of shops, cafes etc and a number of our friends live here.

After a few days of viewing places (some too far away from the junction itself, some on the wrong side of the tracks!) Dean found the perfect flat and, based on photos alone, Lou agreed to it.
Strangely enough, the flat is a couple of doors down from the place where Dean’s parents first met each other around 30 years ago on their OE.

We’ve now been here two weeks and are loving it. It's fantastic to have our own space, a real bed, and a big lounge for people to come and stay - you’re all welcome!!


Lessons learnt:
No matter where you are in the world, flat hunting is a right pain.

London sightseeing, the first few weeks

Highlights from the first few weeks in London (yes we’ve visited lots of museums but the weather was cold!):
London eye (thanks for the thoughtful gift of tickets Megan!) - well worth doing. We were lucky enough to be at the top when the RAF did a flyover trailing red, white and blue smoke to celebrate their 90th anniversary.


London museum - an excellent background to the history of London including the fire, the plague and roman settlement.

Science museum - Dean’s favourite (of course). Plenty of interactive displays but quite a lot of kids, not surprisingly.

Tate Modern - I even remembered some of what I learnt in Art History.


War cabinet rooms and Winston Churchill museum - the only museum we’ve had to pay for, but well worth it. They preserved the rooms the cabinet worked from (and sometimes slept in) during WW2 underneath the Treasury, and have tacked on a really big museum of Winston Churchill’s life.

NZ memorial, Hyde Park - we visited the day after ANZAC day so plenty of wreaths about.

Camden Markets, Borough Markets and Portobello Markets - great to see some of the food we don’t get back home. Looking forward to having a dinner party as an excuse to cook some of it.

Les Miserables at the Queen’s Theatre - our first show, Dean got tickets and didn’t tell me what for until dinner beforehand. Apart from the tweenage girls sitting behind us singing along (despite my dagger eyed looks over my shoulder), we really enjoyed it.

Oxford v Cambridge rowing race - terrible weather but we got a good position right on the muddy bank * being the kiwis we are, we weren’t afraid to get a little wet.

Exploring Queen’s park, close to David and Hannah’s flat - we went for a few runs here and loved spotting the little grey squirrels. (Sidenote from Dean: They are evil little squirrels though, having invaded from America and taken over the habitat of the native red squirrels by passing on a virus that only the red squirrels are susceptible to. The red squirrels are not found in southern England anymore and are now mostly found in Scotland.)


Have also played pitch and putt, a great nine hole golf game, played on smaller greens (par 3-5 sort of holes). NZers would love this game, someone should take the concept back to NZ.

National Portrait gallery - was nice seeing Prime Minister Massey in an imgainery painting of WWI leaders sitting around a table, I thought of the Masseys back home!

Dean has also visited the Imperial War Museum, HMS Belfast, and "Firepower", the Royal Artillery Museum. He even got to a game of the Black Caps v England A, and proved that it is possible to get burnt in the English sun. (It did take him 8 hours with no sunblock to bring home some colour though).

We also enjoyed the changeable weather, with the photo of Dean and Zac in the snow only about a 2 weeks before a veritable heatwave of 20 degrees plus days.

He also took a tour of Lords, and was amused by the "entry" and "exit" signs on the doors (below).

Los Angeles - Downtown

We were stoked to find how flash our hotel in downtown LA was. A good choice was made.

We made full use of the gym and the pool after all the food we’d eaten at Disneyland.

On Saturday we went on a bus tour of LA which we highly recommend. It is such a huge city that without a tour we wouldn’t have known where to go, or seen half of what we did. Highlights include Venice Beach, Beverly Hills and Hollywood. We saw various buildings used in movies (eg the Daily Planet and a few action blockbusters) and a number of locations used in Pretty Woman which Lou enjoyed. We were a bit disappointed not to see any stars’ homes, but got a good feel for the city and learnt some interesting trivia.

We’d booked tickets to a basketball game before leaving NZ so had a great time watching the LA Clippers v Portland Trailblazers that night (the Lakers were playing the next night but were way more expensive!). The stadium was huge and the entertainment amazing * cheerleaders, kids dance squads and the spirit crew (guys and girls, like off the cheerleading movies).The home team lost the game but it was really fun to be part of it. We reckon that if you are going to a game, try and go to one where the crowd will be closer to sold out than 1/2 full, would really add a lot to the experience.

Sunday it was back on a plane and onto London. After such amazing hot weather we were a little shocked to arrive to snow!!! Dean foolishly decided to arrive in shorts and a tee-shirt, but we survived.

Anzac Day - A tourist's perspective

Back home ANZAC day always meant an early start to the day getting up for the dawn parade at the cenotaph by parliament. The benefits of living in Thorndon meant that it was an easy walk down the hill.

Not so here, I thought it was going to be quite tough to get down to Hyde Park for the 5am dawn service given lack of tubes etc, so didn't arise for it. Felt rather embarrassed after Helen and Josh got there from Clapham Junction, and Helen is working at the moment.

However, made up for it by doing a double header, first leg was in the crypt of St Paul's cathedral at 9.30am. Figured I needed to seeing I am still a tourist. A short service, with no hymns or songs, just the Last Post, Lament with a bagpiper and the Reveille. A small but dedicated crowd. The crypt was a very interesting place, with the middle being dominated by Lord Nelson's tomb, hero of the Battle of Trafalgar. Also around the crypt were a large number of other Admirals of the Navy, other important persons including Winston Churchill.

Post service, called home to Dad, to sadly hear that my god-mother had died the previous day. She had been been pretty good to me, and I am always grateful to her, as she took her role as god-mother very seriously. She was always there for occasions like the first communion, and as an English teacher really helped me to pass School Certificate English. She had been suffering from cancer for about the last year. However, in the last months before I left New Zealand, we were able to spend some good quality time with her, including a great night with whitebait fritters on our deck at home.

In a more somber mood, headed down to Whitehall for a march past and service at 11. Had been suggested to arrive at 10.20, to secure a good spot that I diligently followed, but would have been lucky to have even 1 or 2 thousand people in total, bolstered by a number of tour parties walking along the road. The highlight was the Irish Guards band who were top notch. The crowd was fairly strongly Australian and English with only a few Kiwis, so much so that I felt I was the only one singing the NZ national anthem in my area. Given my lack of singing ability, it wasn't loud either. One down point was the chaplain for the service was a representative from the RNZAF, whose attempts at Maori were disappointing and embarrassing, but hopefully only embarrassing for the NZers in the audience.

Of interest to me, was finding a bit more about the Gallipoli landings, and I was surpised to find that of the more than 500,000 Allied troops involved, less than 10,000 were New Zealanders, with more than 80% being British. I have always found it hard to compare Winston Churchill's involvement in the Dardanelles offensive and its subesquent failure with his more widely celebrated success in WWII. Also, it still puzzles me though, that a main point of success of the campaign was the successful withdrawal of the troops without further loss of life. Another celebration of a great withdrawal like Dunkirk, perhaps to paper over the failures that neccesitated the withdrawals.

So the day felt a lot different to it at home, where I view it almost as a second national day, but here no-one apart from the Antipodeans and involved English and Turkish officials really knew what the day was about. The lack of interest probably stemmed from the weekday aspect, but a few Kiwi building site workers managed to sneak away, but I guess the office workers were well chained to their desks.