Banksy!
In the East End near Brick Lane.
south of the loop
South Bank at Night
View of the South Bank from Waterloo Bridge last night. I only had my point-and-shoot with me, but I was able to steady it on the bridge and set the shutter speed to one second. The ferris wheel on the left is known as the London Eye and was built to celebrate the millennium. You can just see the Houses of Parliament behind it and to the right.
Custom Conversation
UK customs officer: Can I see your return ticket?
Me, suddenly sent into a blind panic worsened by severe sleep deprivation: Return ticket? Um, it’s ticketless travel…
Customs officer: Surely you printed out the itinerary.
Me: Um. [digging madly through my coat pockets, bag pockets, everything]. There’s… this. Oh crap, it only has this leg.
Customs officer: When is your return flight?
Me: January 8.
Customs officer: What time?
Me: 4:30pm.
Customs officer: What flight?
Me: Uh. It’s on American? I don’t know the flight number.
Customs officer, looking at the printed itinerary, and then looking at me as though I’m the biggest dolt to pass through Border Control: Your return flight is right here.
Me: *wipes sweat from brow*
Customs officer, examining printed itinerary more closely: Who is [dad's name]?
Me: That’s my dad. The ticket was purchased on his frequent flyer miles.
Customs officer: Fair enough.
He looks at my landing card, on which I’ve identified my profession as ‘writer.’
Customs officer, smarmily: So your dad had to buy you the ticket because you’re a struggling writer and can’t make any money?
After a few more questions about the nationality of the friends (British) I was visiting and how I met them (at Oxford), he said, “we’ll take that, then. Go on.”
And now I’m at a kitchen table in southwest London looking out at a lovely garden and drinking tea. Life is good.
