Update 9: Spring forward ...

Hello to all my favourite people around the world and beyond :)

This is Margo happily checking in to update you on my life, if you are still interested and not weary yet of the saga (tick here [ ] to unsubscribe. If you unsubscribe you will be bombarded with junk and spam till you resubscribe. Heheheeee).

You may have realised by now that my sense of humour, pathetic as it is, is returning. There are so many things that are helping to restore my equilibrium, not least of which is the incredible and stunning blue sky that I am looking at right now. It is hot. Yup, HOT out there. People smell funny out there in the streets, a combination of steam, sweat and stuffy jackets thrown over shoulders. Scarves have disappeared and skin is the fashion of the day. Too much of it really; girls in sleeveless tops suddenly look horrendously underdressed, and cleavage is IN, baby!

Amazingly however, there are many tanned bodies out there. I can't work out if it's fake tan or actual tan from holidays overseas, and of course I'm far too polite now to reach out and try to scratch it and see .. heeeheee. Yup, I am acquiring some of the typical British reserve; holding back from laughing too loud, yelling across rooms and generally making rude comments.

In fact, a funny thing happened on the Tube the other day. As I stood there in the aisle, among the other heaving bodies jam-packed into the hot, stuffy tube-shaped space, I looked down and happened to see the top of some guy's head (as you do), and on it was a single leaf from some tree, that had clearly floated down and landed on his balding pate (the leaf, not the tree). Now if this was SA, and the really normal abnormal me, you know that I would have leaned forward and with some sparklingly witty comment, happily removed the leaf from his head. However this is England, and we don't speak to strangers on the tube here, you know. So for several very happy minutes and through a variety of stops and starts at stations, I gazed down in a pleasant daydream at this leaf. On this man's head. And when I left he was still peacefully, blissfully unawarely wearing his leaf. For all I know, he still is.

Are you laughing yet? Good, because it only gets better.

I have had lots of people adventures. One of them was meeting up with Hubert the Pole on the weekend. That's Hubert a Polish person, not an actual lap dancing Pole. Hubert was at American Summer Camp with me, and Dinah (you dog you!) gave him my mobile number, and he promptly called me up. We ended up in an Irish bar in Covent Garden, and got drunk. Yes, it was a veritable Polish South African Irish Reunion in an English city. What more could you ask for. Well, respite is one thing. He wouldn't stop feeding me Polish vodka, making me (yes that's right, really forcing me) drink it like tequila, with a lemon. It was ghastly. Although Hubert will always be an entertaining devil, eventually I could bear it no longer, and with a quick goodbye, picked up my bag, turned around and simply walked away. He was quite taken aback, I think.

But really, I just cannot, cannot, cannot cope with the drinking here. I realise that once I drink, I only end up drunk. Every single time. It makes me really fearful of going out in this town. Which yes, I know, is quite unlike me. But I really don't mind turning into a non-alcoholic, middle-aged old fart, if it only meant I could avoid the hangovers! So I have some bridge-mending to do with a Pole, but I'm sure we'll be alright in the end :)

I also had a lovely dinner with Andrew and his father, C on Sunday. It was so nice to meet C, and get to know Andrew from a new angle. His dad is lovely, and lives in an amazing flat on the 17th floor of a building on the central/east side of London. We spent hours at his gorgeous windows looking out at magnificent views of London, including close-ups with binoculars (no, no nudity in the parks out there yet). We could see everything from the London Eye to Hampstead Heath - and you realise what a peculiarly compact and flat city London actually is; quite, quite strange.

Then I had dinner with K and G last night, which was yet another surreal experience. They really do exist in a different city from me - funnily enough also called London. Their London is filled with rich black taxi cabs, and gorgeous Zen-decor bars with the Beautiful People and restaurants with glamorous names. It must be a nice place to visit. Sigh. Well, I did visit their London last night (in my high heels, which made me feel like I kind of fit in a bit better, so my feet ache like 'se moer' today).

We drank at a bar called the Rockwell. Yes, amazing Zen-decor. The drinks were a minimum charge of £10 each. Yes, that's ZAR100 a drink. My Martini was called Thai Martini, and featured lemongrass, coriander and sake. Hers was a Rose Petal Martini, featuring real rose petals and a rose petal liquer specially ordered in from some third world country where the poor people die on the hillsides, crushing petals for us Beautiful People in the Zen Bars of London. lol

Then we went on to Wagamama's where we stuffed our faces with Yaki Udon and Egamama. No, I still don't know either what it was we really ate. Could've been fish, could've been chicken. Of course by that time we'd had way too much to drink, so we could've been eating crocodile for all we cared. No matter, it tasted delicious. And the conversation got downright rude. I felt right at home!

Staggering home through Leicester Square at midnight in my f&*(king high heels, I was gobsmacked to see queues, that's right QUEUES of people lining up to get into at least 10 hot clubs in the Square. What's the matter with these people; don't they have jobs to go to!?!!?

Speaking of which, my job is going fabulously. I am enjoying myself tremendously, helped no end by the cool emails I get every day from M in South Africa; he and I have these long intellectual discussions which have nothing to do with my work, and take hours to construct and research, and keep me fabulously entertained at work. So far we have covered the global eco-crisis, string theory, stereotypies (correct spelling as far as I know, hey M?), instinct vs learning, and modelling behaviour.

That's all in between working for my 4 bosses, whom I love to bits and would protect with my life. [The next bit is censored, in order to protect their interests, and my job hehe]. Don't you all just love me and miss me too much?!

The most interesting piece of news is the most delicious, and I'm keeping most of the detail to myself, and one other (he knows who he is). I have been involved in a lovely flirtation on my mobile phone with a friend of a friend, whom I've met and quite fancy. We plan to meet up on the weekend again, and I have high hopes. I'm tired of being celibate and sweet.

So wish me luck, my friends, I know you will. I feel this sense of coming back to myself, a sense of regaining my equilibrium and a feeling of wellbeing.

But don't worry, because I'm still coming home in December and yes South Africa is still home in my heart.

Update 8: Spooked

Hello everyone - hope my emails are still keeping you entertained. They certainly help to keep me reminded in a co-ordinated fashion of all the crazy things that have happened to me in London, and help me feel in touch with everyone at home and all over the world.

Of all the crazy things that have happened, the strangest happened on Saturday when the mad soccer hooligan drunk guy, N from the house in Finchley, committed suicide.

I got a phone call last night from my friend K sounding very small, young and spooked, as he told me that they had just found the body an hour ago ... I spent today in a bit of a "dwaal" or a "daze" (for my non-African friends) thinking about N, and about all the things that happened in that mad, mad house in Finchley. I feel quite sad because clearly - even though towards the end he was aggressive, rude and downright scary - he was on a terrible spiralling path of self-destruction. It was awful to be involved in it, and although I am certainly glad I wasn't in that house last night as K, V and Y dealt with hysterical ex-girlfriends, police, paramedics and the Mortuary van, I do feel a bit pulled-up-short, and reminded that I shouldn't be too quick to judge people or get angry with them ...

So as the sky gets bluer outside and spring finally arrives in London, together with all the lifting of spirits, healing of colds and hay fever, and imminent house moves to new places, I'm reminded by these great big Cosmic Smacks to settle down and enjoy life properly. And I must say, the homesickness definitely is lifting a bit as time inevitably moves on and irritatingly heals all wounds. Thank you for sticking through it with me.

I wandered through Leicester Square last night as they held the London Premiere of the last Star Wars movie. Lots of fun and very cool! Didn't see anyone famous though. Too many umbrellas in the rain obscuring everyone, for a shortie like me to see anyone significant :D But it was great to be a part of the screaming hordes hanging over the barriers and waving umbrellas at the cameras, and Star Wars balloons and everyone saying "May the Force be with you" and all that. You know me, Sci-Fi Tourist Forever! (And lthough I may still be short, I'm pleased to say that all the walking is finally paying off with the loss of a few inches round the waist. Went shopping (yes, again!) last weekend for work clothes, and I definitely fit a smaller size now. Good, good.)

I've also had some fun socialising with people at work - lunch with L the wacky receptionist, who had lots of luvverly gossip about people at the office. And drinks on the balcony on Friday night - interesting to chat to some of the bosses and senior partners - makes them a bit more human! Then drinks with Andrew and his fun-tastic cousin F on Sunday night. Ohhhh, those red wine afternoons are dangerous! Big hangover yesterday ... I hate hangovers.

Other things I'm settling in to include getting used to the fact that it may take me longer than I expected to start studying, and start looking for property here. Everyone really wants PROOF that I am who I say I am, I live where I say I live, and that I'm not Chewbacca the Wookie or something! And that requires living in one place for longer than 2 months. Gosh, I can't wait!

Here's to getting settled and staying happy.

Love you all, and thanks to all the "a's" who got in contact :D

Update 7: Hayfever Haze and Geographic Ping-Pong

Hello hello!

I am high as a kite right now, happily breathing the sunshine and pollen of London, with a couldn't-care-less attitude. Yup, that's right folks - it's drugs. But no, no - not the kind you think. It's luvverly, it's delishus, it's delightful, it's antihistamines ...

After 10 days of sniffling, snorting, snuffling, hacking and suffering paroxysms of eye-watering throat-tickles on the Tube (oh horrors! now I know what it feels like to be one of those coughing, snorting, dribbling, drooling, sneezing, snotty gobstopper thingies that other commuters stare at one in horror and try hard to edge themselves away from!), I discovered that it's not flu, it's just a special gift from England - HAYFEVER!!!Argh.

However, after those ghastly 10 days, I finally swallowed a special anti-hay fever remedy, and was quite surprised after half an hour to re-discover the pleasures of breathing again. Gosh, I even curled up on the bed and dropped off into an exhausted doze (hadn't slept much either :D In fact due to the narrowness of the mattress itself, I quite nearly dropped off the entire bed.)

Ho hum, I'm sure you must be quite bored with all my complaints about ergonomically adjusting to life in London, but that's just tough. I know you love me, so you'll listen with indulgence and love, and not a little laughter. Right?? Right!

Well, firstly there's M and Muffin. Delightful as they are, I'm afraid life in the Council Flats of Tufnell Park is short lived for me. You can't maintain delightfulness when it's always only 2 inches away from you. All the time. But that's ok, because I do believe I've found the mythical, the legendary, the previously-thought-impossible - a home :)And you'll never guess - it's back in Finchley, only 4 roads away from the Housemates from Hell. How perverse is that.

So it's back to Finchley in June - geographic ping-pong, that's what I'm playing. But actually I don't mind cos at least in the mornings, I will be out in the open when I travel on the Tube, and I'll be able to get a seat (I discovered when you live closer to Central London, then there are never seats left in the Tube, by the time it gets to you it's jam packed and seriously unpleasant. Specially for a nasal, hacking twitcher like I've been the last week J

And the house in Finchley is just lovely - so different. There are 2 guys Nigel and Gary, and one Scottish girl, Tina. All are nearing 40, and seem like a "family of friends". There's a garden, and my room has a large double sliding door out onto the patio and lawn. The boys apparently work together, and every 6 weeks or so have a "poker night". What I loved was that when they mentioned it, they looked nervous. Heaven knows what goes on, but at least they have the gumption to ask about it up front, and look nervous. Can't wait to see what it's all about, maybe even some hot-looking players" :D

And there's just a lovely vibe of everyone sitting together and chatting in the living areas, and it spotlessly clean and ... etc etc Also the tenant in the room before me left a gorgeous set of harem-like curtains which just added a lovely touch :) Not to mention the double bed, the huge room, the space, the lounge, the size, the massiveness. Did I mention the garden?!

All this for less than I have been paying so far. As I write this I can't help but read over my words, and imagine that you are thinking like me, "there must be a catch". If - once I move in – I do discover a catch, I promise to stop my antihistamines and drown myself in phlegm.

Because really by this stage, suicide by snot would be the only alternative.

Ok, now that I've made an ass of myself laughing out loud at my own words on the screen, in front of all these Role-Playing Gothic Doomsters, I have to go pay a deposit.

STOP LAUGHING!
I will pack up my bag, wrap up in my jacket and scarf (oh the joys of spring in London), and deliriously weave my way out the door ...
Think of me and keep those emails coming. Loved the emails from Bonita-Tart, Gerald The Brave and The Homecoming Queen Lizelle :)

Where are you, Anita, Andy and Averybody Alse with an A!?!?!?!?!

Update 6: Housemates from Hell

Hello folks, hope you're all keeping well.

Thanks for all your wonderful updates - GG & S's amazing canoe trip through the wilds of Africa (so glad you survived KaK Off Bay), Anita's incredible journey and new life in buzzing Yeoville, Lizelle's fab life in Florida, USA. I can't wait for Gerald's update from Las Vegas. And I love the fact that I got a job referral for a job in London, from a friend in Australia, whom I met in America. How global is that?!

Well, this update is proof that one should never ever say out loud, "I'm settling down and getting comfortable" (Ref: my last Update). Because my life is in turmoil once more. On Saturday night, our House was subjected to the Stripper's Party from Hell. All night, shrieking voices, swearing, cursing, slamming doors, music, shouts and fights out on the street, cars pulling away, and worst of all, a pall of smoke hanging in the corridors. Till 5.30am on Sunday. It was just too awful, there are almost no words to describe how dreadful it was. Finally, all the strippers and their "tricks" faded into the walls, and we were able to get some sleep.

The rest of us in the house convened in the Kitchen at about 7.30am after a couple of hours of broken sleep. The shattered looks on everyone's faces were almost comical to behold, and told me that at least I wasn't the only one to feel violated by the invasion. Poor Y had to go to work too. I was the only one however, to phone our landlady and hand in my notice. Maybe I'm getting old, but I have just had enough. Between the Raving Drunk and the Slapper's Revenge, I can take no more - I admit defeat. I am moving out of Finchley on Saturday 30 April. Just when I thought I was settling down ... sigh

By now I am fairly paranoid about living in any more shared houses, with too many people. And I will miss having a garden, more than words can say. I have settled for a small but immaculate flatshare with a little old lady called M. She lives in a first floor flat in a very smart area called Tufnell Park, right next to Hampstead Heath (almost better than a garden). The flat is shining clean and strictly non-smoking. It's just the two of us and a cat called Muffin :) Should keep me out of trouble for a bit.

M doesn't appear to work; I figure she's on some kind of Pension package, and seems keen to "mother" me a bit. I'll enjoy it, but hope it doesn't get too much. And I do hope I don't fall out of the single bed too often (haven't slept in one of those for many years :)

Otherwise, Andrew and I had a FABULOUS Sunday (although I kept yawning all day). We took the River Ferry from the Tower of London to Greenwich, and spent the day hiking the magnificent park, ogling at the Royal Observatory (including stepping over the Longitude line Greenwich Mean Time – very cool indeed), and meandering through the Street Markets and shops in the town. We ended up in a sunny beer garden, sipping on a John Smith (not a bad beer after all). The day ended with a trip on the Docklands Light Rail through the "space-age" Canary Wharf centre. I woke up with my face squashed into Andrew's sleeve - hope I didn't snore or dribble ;).

This evening, I took a walk from work. Two blocks down is Trafalgar Square, and it was magical in the late afternoon. Not so many pigeons and tourists on a weekday afternoon; the fountains are clean and sparkling blue, and Nelson's column is still there - remember meeting there all those years ago, Canadian Caroline? I strolled past into the National Gallery, and spent an hour gazing at the Impressionist paintings - Monet, Manet, Pisarro, Sisley and Turner. Then a few minutes looking at Goya and Renoir and back out to St James Park and Buckingham Palace. Then I wandered down one of the richest streets in the world - Picadilly - past the Ritz Hotel, and on to Leicester Square. It remains the Centre of Tourist World for me - just lovely!

As I went into Leicester Square Underground, I really, really, really wished my nephews were with me. I kept imagining them Ooohing and Aaahing at all the rushing people, the long long long escalators down underground, the stunning girl playing the harp for money, and then as the trains arrived, marvelling at how closely they fit into the tunnels, and how fast they push the air forwards in front of them, in a whirling tornado of wind. WISH you guys were here with me!

Then as I hopped onto my train home, I sat next to a little Chinese lady who was carefully scrutinising every word of the fine print in a magazine filled with Burger King Special Offer Coupons. Through a magnifying glass. Yes, I smiled too :) It could only happen in London.

Love you all, can't wait to see Jane and Graham for drinks soon!

Update 5: France

To follow shortly ...

Update 4: The King Crustacean

Hello all, and hope you are all keeping well. Thank you for all the emails, support and responses to my agonised sms's asking for references, shoulders to cry on, doggy news and the like. You are all great!

I have just deleted my entire previous draft of this email by mistake - pages long - so this version is just going to have to be short!

2 Key pieces of news;

1. I now have a home. For those of you who want to write to me snail mail, or visit me while you're in London, I'm at [x] in Finchley, London, N3.

2. I am now permanently employed. I still can't quite believe it happened so quickly! I am a Secretary (stop laughing, you lot!) at [x] near Covent Garden. Lovely people, lovely offices, 30 mins away from home via the Tube. And nice pay too!

Things at home have been somewhat turbulent. Last week we had CRISIS THURSDAY (remember Crisis Sunday, Bons!?), when N the raving drunk got locked out of his bedroom by mistake, which caused him to drunkenly fall over and hit his head, and land unconscious in the street (don't ask). The stripper called the paramedics and the cops, so we had all these strange people in medical outfits rushing up and down the stairs, while V was crying on the phone to India, being dumped by her boyfriend. At the same time, I lost track of my mobile phone (typical) and rushed back to the office to look for it. There it was.

However, in complete contrast, we had huge fun the next evening. After a serious heart-to-heart with the raving drunk we all ended up all comparing our most eccentric shoes. Yup, shoes, folks. DMX had a pair of yellow trainers and Kaushil a weird square shaped pair of Indian slippers, but N won hands down when he came out on a pair of old 1960's roller skates, and proceeded to twirl very professionally up and down the length of the kitchen.That meant everyone had to have a go, and when K - who has never been on roller skates - finally got on and had to be half carried like a baby by the raving drunk, the rest of us just about dissolved in helpless fits of laughter.

At work, the team is really great. Very formal, very professional, and really nice. One of the IT guys is going to a theme party on Saturday night - everyone has to come dressed up as a Tube Station. Well, that had all of us going for the rest of the afternoon. You could come dressed as

- A Womble (from "Wimbledon")

- Late and Stoned ("Leytonstone")

- A Slow Hound (from "Hounslow")

- A Priest on Pot ("Parsons Green")

- A Hairy Shepherd ("Shepherd's Bush")

- Statue of Liberty ("Monument")

But I must say, his final choice was absolutely the best: He decided to wear a Crown and a Giant Prawn Suit and go as a King Crustacean (for "King's Cross Station"). Hysterical!

Also, nearby work we have a homeless couple living on the street, and they have the most DIVINE doggy. He is a beautiful Labrador called Hooch, and I get to say hi and give him a big love every afternoon on my way home. He is in tiptop condition (more than I can say for his humans), and is a dreadful flirt. Loves to be hugged and I must say it really helps with my own "Dog Withdrawal Symptoms". Hope Zeus and Scooter are doing well at their new homes, and that Francis and Anita are happy and that everything is going swimmingly - let me know if you can ...

I took a train trip to Poole this weekend, on England's south coast, to see K at a Wedding Show she was doing. It was so lovely - blue sky and warm and lovely to see the green countryside, and the sea and people flying kites. We 3 - K, G and myself - also had a lovely dinner at an authentic pub deep in the heart of the countryside in a little village called East Meon. Chicken and asparagus melt-in-the-mouth pie, then heated pre-election political discussion in the couches in front of a roaring log fire, with coffee and Glenmorangie. Now that's the way to drink whisky, GG and S!

I'm off to France this weekend - expensive, but looking forward to it! So I'll be back online next week Tuesday or Wednesday. You can also try emailing me at work (dunno what they are letting through at this stage) .

Missing you, thinking of you, and love you all. I will reply to each email separately.

Don't forget me!

Update 3: Not Just To Want

Hello everyone and thanks for all the emails - keep em coming!

I have found a home and a wonderful one too. I'm at [x], if you want to come visit, send letters or money ;-)

It's a huge old rambling house, with 7 bedrooms and only one shower (arrrgh terrible). But my room is a huge gorgeous ground floor place, with my own private little glass conservatory attached, with French windows leading right out into the garden - like my own personal sitting room. It has a wonderful spirit and energy - all mauve and blue and white.

My housemates are a real mix - some good, some bad, which can be entertaining. First the 3 English - we have N, the raving drunk (but after a huge explosion on my second night there, he has been very well behaved), G the Invisible Man (comes home, goes straight into his room, and we never see him again, except for the occasional sighting as he flits past into the bathroom), and R - a fab girl. She is our resident "exotic dancer" - yes, she's a stripper, and a really cool girl too. She has turned her room into a stunning Aladdin's cave of treasures - glitter, sparkles, lights, mobiles and gorgeous dance outfits ...

Then the rest of us travellers - there's Y, a young sleek good-looking smoothie, very nice. And K, a very quiet accountant - he and I have got into the habit of watching tv soaps together - Coronation Street and Eastenders. And my other fave is V, a stunning young Indian girl, we get on like a house on fire.

Five of us - Y (and his best mate, DMX – don’t ask where that name comes from, I couldn’t tell you - who is dossing with us at present - we love him, and a mean pool player too), K, V and me - went pubbing last night round Finchley. We had a FANTASTIC time, and I didn't feel my age at all, and we all got on like long-standing best mates, and just had a wonderful time.

I did some gardening in our lovely little garden yesterday morning. (People were gobsmacked.) I was deeply proud of myself - although I'm not sure if I've killed anything yet. I mowed the lawn, cut back the ivy, dead-headed the roses and revealed some new daffodils (still to flower) tucked away in a corner. Then I sat out with my coffee and enjoyed the sunshine, blinking in the light like a mole just come up for air ... hahaha

It was more wonderful than you can imagine, after my first week of working so hard, to spend the day out in the sun, have a day off, and explore my surroundings. It took me some way out of my deep depression and homesickness, and brought me back to myself a bit.Work has been really hard - the discipline of commuting for 80 mins a day on the tube, and then sitting in an office for 8 straight hours, bound to a desk. You leave home in the semi-light, and arrive back home in the dark. It's really tough. And the work is mind-blowingly boring - stuffing envelopes, typing bits and pieces, answering phones, photocopying and binding.But I simply have to put my head down and apply myself for the next 8 weeks, just to get my finances sorted out. I will be hitting a serious cashflow trap in week 4 of my budget, I'm just hoping I can get away with paying my rent a few days late :-0

Otherwise, the first wave of homesickness has passed. It has been surreal, as if I am dreaming a very real, very detailed dream of London. I feel as if I'm travelling in my dream on the tube, up the escalators, through the pathways of London, and in the morning I'll wake up and look out to the bushveld in Ruimsig, where my dogs will be playing on the green lawns.Now of course, that feeling has passed and it is reversed. I dream of my dogs (no longer really "mine"), and of the cottage in great detail. Wistfully, although it all feels so very far away. Not only in miles but in time. It's only been 2 weeks, yet it feels like months. And 8 months is a long time still to go - a long distance to cover.

But everywhere I see small signs = a statue with the word "fortitude" - and it speaks to me. A horoscope tells me "not just to want, but to grab the opportunity to COMMIT". Yes, that's what I have to do.

I refuse for the moment to believe that I am here for ever. It doesn't feel like home. Africa is home. But I can make plans. And my round-the-world trip in 2009 is really something great to plan for. And I have decided that one day I want to own property in London. Another goal. Feels like I'm coming back on track ...

I think of you all lots, and miss you more than words can say.