Day 70, 71 & 72 - Sweet Donuts

Here we sit in London, the start of a new chapter, the start of new beginnings. Outside it is still light, it is 9pm and will probably be light for another hour or so. This may be a normal part of your life, you may be used to this and yes, before you feel inclined to advise me of the seasons of the Europe I know it is summer and that winter its dark by 4pm. On a good day.

The point is that it is different. And today and yesterday, and the day before it has been different. Maybe because we realise that this is the start of a new life and so are seeing and smelling things that maybe we won't see and smell in a years time. Maybe we are appreciating the things that will hold less appeal later. Like this mall we went too ealier. I've never seen anything like it. Certainly bigger than others I have been into but also filled with an aray of shops and stores that beggars belief. From Louis Vuitton to Waitrose and everything inbetween, a selection of 'I haven't seen before' restaurants and eating style establishments, clothes shops with queues running from them to get in, girlbands belting out tunes to a crowd of maybe a thousand followers with security staff keeping the fans away, behind the barriers. A sweet donut type place, probably no bigger than 12 square meters in total but with 12 staff - I counted - behind the counter, each one them run off their feet. Recession? What recession?

I sound like a bit of a country bumpkin writing this. I have become accustomed to accepting what was on offer - I'm talking malls here before someone starts to get sensitive - in SA, and some of it was very good but there is nothing that compares to what I saw today. I kid you not.

It has also been a weekend for experiences, yesterday on arrival, I had the quickest and easiest passage through immigration at Heathrow I have ever experienced. Not even one trying or probing question. Remember, I am old school and a veteran of hours long interrogation at this very same entry point but people who I swear had seen me coming with my green mamba passport. Ever since, it must be said, I have had a healthy respect for immigration.
The youngest of my fruit experienced the uncomfortableness of cattle class, long haul, for the first time. Both of them, experienced public transport, the tube, for the first time. My oldest was hit on, twice, by men old enough to know better - if there had been a third I may not have been writing this. I have a certain protective urge and a quick elbow that may well have come to the fore had it happened again! We have also wandered around the biggest second hand car lot on the planet (interested in a Chrysler Voyager 2.4 LX, 3 years old, 12000 miles, £7800 - anyone know if this is a good car / price?), admittedly this is their own marketing so I have no idea if its true, we have braaied, fortunately not in the rain but chilly enough to not stand around the fire with a beer in hand. We have tried to play football in the park, only to be rained out after a few minutes.

And I have also joined the world of Black Berry. Now this is an interesting mobile phone, especially if you have big fingers. Instant access to all things social networkings and it seems substantially cheaper than what they cost in SA. Chat this and chat that, email connectivity and everything that I said I wouldn't do with a mobile phone! But hey I have now joined the revolution I am told. My status as B.C. is at risk. I am getting in touch apparently. I am arriving. I risk being in with the youth, if only to learn from them on how to work this bloody thing.

And finally, for today. We have been welcomed into familes home here like long lost friends. The generosity has been staggering, almost overwhelming. I look forward to telling you more as the days unfold.

Until tomorrow.