Posts Tagged ‘rugby’

Classic Burg: The UK Diary 2003 (Part 9)

September 3, 2009

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18 October 2003 – Camden Town & The Rugby

Had a nice lay-in today…The body still not working properly though.

Matt & I made our way up to Wimbledon station at about 11am.

Caught the train from Wimbledon to Waterloo and then from Waterloo to Camden Town.

Perhaps one of the greatest points of my trip thus far was the the absolute splendor of Camden Town. The freedom to be yourself was unbelievable. I witnessed every possible type of person you can get mulling around the markets

You had your Goths, Raver, Metalheads, 50’s style Greasers, Rockers, Hip-hoppers, Rasta’s and on and on and on.

Once you have been here you realize how small you are, as I walked I began to feel something. This feeling was that of being humbled and understanding that I have not even begun to tap into my own potential. I felt so small, almost as small as a fly. Then everything began to click and being that fly I was able to sit on the wall and take notes and draw inspiration for what I really wanted out of life and where I want to go.

The most amazing fashions were also on offer here, but not in my price range. So folks at work, no need to worry as I did not buy anymore see through shirts etc. I would come back to the UK for Camden alone.

Made our way back into Wimbledon to watch the SA vs England match at a pub where I met some of Matthews SA friends and family.A great vibe and not being the biggest Rugby supporter I found myself getting into the spirit of things. I tried to start a slow clap, but it didn’t work. We lost, I didn’t care. I was on cloud 9 still. (No, I didn’t try any magic mushrooms at Camden)

After the game I socialized a bit and listened to some great stories, and then decided I would make my way back to Lutterworth and my cousin tonight rather than tomorrow morning as we had plans for Sunday.

Short stop off at Matthew’s place to grab my stuff, considered saying goodbye to the old lady at number 7 Richmond Avenue, but never did.

Matthew waited with me at the bus stop, however a blind bus driver cut out goodbyes short as I had to run after the bus with all my bags hanging around my neck causing me to look like a puppy sticking its head out the window.

Made the bus, made the station, took the wrong train, took another wrong one, then made my way to Euston station where I purchased my ticket to Rugby where my cousin would fetch me 2 hours later.

8:30pm I arrived at Rugby station, made our way home, and had we some Chinese dishes.

Once the Chinese girls left we went for some supper.

Just kidding, we had Chinese for supper 🙂

Rounded off an amazing 4 days with some Golf on the PC.

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Classic Burg: UK Diary 2003 (Part 2)

August 31, 2009

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6 October 2003 – Braided & British

Day 2 In Leicester, sees me taking some time to actually sit down and reflect on the last 32 hours, and let you in on whats been happening.

On Saturday night I arrived at my boarding gate at JHB international about 8:09pm, so I took a seat next to a fountain watching the monitors to make sure i saw when flight 226 to Heathrow would be boarding. I waited and waited and, in the meantime noticed a large queue forming in front of me. I decided to ask them what was going on, only to find out the display board was broken and I was now right at the back of a line I could of been first in.

Needless to say by the time I got to my seat, all the luggage compartments had been filled up, so I had to sit with my hang luggage by my feet, a factor that would come into play about 5 hours into the flight when I realized that my body had cramped into a sitting position.

The food wasn’t too bad, The choice of Chicken or Beef wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be. The free Beef will always win. Since this trip was all about new experiences I decided to brave the Greek Salad that came with the Beef and try an Olive and a piece of Feta Cheese.I began with the Olive…Looking back at it now, I realize I did not think it through properly, as Olives are now up there with Crime and Billy Ray Cyrus’ acting ability as the worst things known to man.

For some reason the air hostesses were not amused at me bellowing out “It’s coffee time!!” every hour or so, it’s times like this I miss Richard.

The on-flight movie was Alex and Emma. The on-flight response to this was ZZzzzzz. Oh btw, I was traveling with Angelique Kidjo. If you don’t know who she is, look it up!

I arrived at Heathrow at about 7:30am and everything seemed to go fairly smoothly…Too smoothly actually. By the time i got to customs, I was rather happy everything was moving so quickly, everyone took about 20 seconds and was free to leave the airport. Then came my turn. Exactly 18min of questioning by customs, including trying to break me and prove I was responsible for the JFK assassination was over. I was a free man!

I met my cousin and his girlfriend…and the cutest dog in the history of dogs, Peanuts, at the airport and my day began.

After a loooong drive home, we arrived in Leicester. ( Where the man who invented the Jet engine is from. Fun fact #1). I got freshened up and we took a ride to the town called Rugby. Yes the birthplace of …Rugby (fun fact#2), then checked out a few stores.

We all learned a valuable lesson on this day. Stores in Rugby, are NOT open on a Sunday.

A stop off at Safeways for a few supplies for the day.

KFC for lunch..Chinese food for dinner.

A nice early nite and early morning has me ready for day 2.

I wonder if that hot teller at Safeways is working tomorrow…

Bye All

Speak soon!

Not that there’s anything wrong with that…

August 2, 2009

I’ve never considered myself one for friendships, but for some reason when it comes to the “F-word”, I’ve always been naturally more comfortable and closer to the female population. It’s just a fact; my closest friends (bar one or two exceptions) have always been girls.

This has never really been a problem, but lately, I’ve found myself absolutely craving “guy conversation”.

I think maybe it’s just the age my f-words and I are reaching. You know, the age where everything is seemingly about family, marriage and kids or Robert Pattinson.

As I think over my 31 years, there are many circumstances leading directly to this.

Being raised by a single mother since my dad and older brother died certainly didn’t leave much room for guy conversation – so that ruled out a lot of growing up around guy stuff.

Being forced to grow up too soon of course prevented the clubbing with the boys and drinking aspect of partying and having a night out with the boys.

Then of course girls find it very comfortable being around me because I’m such a nice guy (and modest too)….flipside of that though – most guys find me a threat to their girls/wives.

Finally, there is my complete lack of interest in most things guy like. I hate rugby, get annoyed with braaing (BBQ’s for you international readers), and drinking and, if you know me well enough, you know I don’t know the difference between a Mercedes Benz and a BMW – or even how many horses it takes to power them.

Why is it that I’m now craving some type of male banter, when I know it will just irritate me.

Maybe it’s time to visit a strip club? Seeing as though my only other experience was not exactly what you would consider fun. The story? In 1997 – the year after high school when a bunch of us schoolmates ventured to a joint in order to see a nice erotic dancer entertain us to our wildest desires. Well, the night started off with me drinking way too much coke light (so brain freeze from the ice cubes), and ended with a gap toothed East Rand girl putting on a dance routine that involved melting ice on her “hot body” while she shook her booty. The stripping followed and she proceeded to toss the ice cube into the crowd. Lucky me… I was in the direct line of fire and the ice cube struck me directly in my glasses cracking one of the lenses. Awesome. I got to see out one for the rest of the night and be scarred with the memory of seeing a stripper with one nipple.

In the end, I guess I’m just a better fit with women. Plus I love flirting, so I guess its one of those “double edged sword” situations.

But I really want to talk about how sexy some girl is, or what they look like nekkid.
I want to make penis jokes – because they are funny.
Even sharing the much hyped story about losing my virginity didn’t seem as effective when I shared it with female friends…

Some guys just don’t get that luxury I guess.

Now if I can just get rid of that pesky “he’s probably gay” stigma….