Sinister: my wandering days.. part 2

[stacey dahling]

Part two… Days 1-9
(for your convenience, run-ins with new people are in caps for easy 
scanning)

LONDON

6 a.m. on a Tuesday morning. 20 degrees Celsius and I’d imagine it would be 
sunny and beautiful if the sun had risen. Athens. I have been in Greece less 
than an hour and already a cab driver is trying to rip me off. And pick me 
up, all at the same time. Amazing. Does he think charging me 3,500 drachmas 
for a 1,500 drachma ride is going to charm me? I trudge down the familiar 
brothel-lined street (empty at this hour) to my apartment, weighted down 
with a 22 kilo bag, exhausted. I run for my bed and collapse. I have been 
traveling since 8 p.m. I have gotten no sleep. My ears nearly exploded at 
30,000 miles above Germany. They still hurt. But instead of sinking into a 
long sleep, I jump back up again and decide to scrub the kitchen clean. It 
appears my roommate has decided to explode things on the stove and leave 
standing coffee dishwater to coagulate in my absence. When that is done, I 
rearrange furniture. I move my desk from the “study” into a corner of my 
bedroom. I push the bed up into a corner and shove a makshift bookshelf 
against the opposite wall. I fill it with all my new books and CDs and 
tapes, shunning some of my formerly displayed embarrassing titles to the 
closet. Yay. Now I look somewhat intelligent. Finally, at 9 a.m., I lay 
down. I wake up at 3 p.m.
Things are different now that I have returned after a three-week absence. 
It’s hard to explain, or understand myself for that matter. When I left, I 
was depressed, restless, filled with silly fantasies of finding a niche 
elsewhere and never coming back. I had spent the week prior to departure 
holed up in my room, trying to finish a magazine assignment but unable to do 
so, eating nothing but pretzels and jelly beans my parents had recently 
brought over in mass quantities from the States. I was frustrated and 
annoyed at my roommate. I was even more annoyed at the anti-social misfit I 
had somehow become. I had lost sight of who I was and what the hell I was 
doing here.
Maybe this isn’t the best way to start a swinging tale of fun and adventure 
in sinisterland. But perhaps it explains my motivations for up and flying to 
a foreign country to spend a few weeks with practical strangers. I left Oct. 
1 with no ticket back. I was going to let fate have its way with me. Or 
maybe I just didn’t want to think about returning, hoping I might not. Silly 
girl.
At any rate, it was quite liberating.
So I arrive Oct. 1 after a truly hellish charter flight - four hours cramped 
between two big men, the blaring sound of propeller and engine sending me 
into a aural stupor, so exhausted I couldn’t keep my eyes open, yet also 
could not sleep. Then an hour at customs, only to get on the wrong train 
into the city and end up halfway to Luton before getting off and waiting 
another half hour for a delayed train in the other direction. After bragging 
to Paul about my impeccable sense of direction and knack for finding my way 
around anywhere, I call him two hours late from Blackfriar’s station. I 
still have another 20-minute journey on the tube to his place. He doubts I 
will make it and laughs when I insist I will be there shortly. I finally 
make it without any further delays to Clapham North, only to realize I lost 
my ticket somewhere along the way and cannot get out. I walk over and smile 
sweetly to the attendant, acting lost and dumb and hopelessly American and 
he just shakes his head and opens the special gate for elderly, disabled and 
dumb people. I call Paul again and as he comes to retrieve me, it starts to 
rain and I watch as several people search the ground for cigarette butts.
Paul arrives and takes my bag (what a gentleman! Bless him) and doesn’t rail 
me too much about my farcical attempts at getting there. When we get to his 
flat, he makes me toast and a Nescafe frappe (Bless him again!) and we just 
sit for a bit. Eventually we head back out to the city. We go to… um… the 
trendy place where Rough Trade is located. Oh dear, I’m hopeless. Anyway, we 
go to Rough Trade. Then we go to a pub for a pint. We sit outside and I tell 
stories of dead pets and near kidnappings and mafia-owned Tex-Mex 
restaurants in Bulgaria. After about five sips of beer I am loopy, what with 
not having slept or eaten much for 36 hours. We walk around a bit, and head 
for a row of electronics store, where Paul looks for a ghetto blaster for 
his kitchen (since he is SO secretly ghetto). We also went book shopping and 
Paul guided me into buying some thick, depressing, intellectual books. We 
returned home with our purchases and had some pizza. Had a mini Snood 
tournament. Then we went out to meet NICHOLAS at a nearby pub. Nicholas had 
a lovely accent and was wearing a suit, much to my delight. I was half 
expecting a mournful, intimidating character, what with all his thoughtful 
prose and deep thoughts, but he was really pleasant and easy to get along 
with. A lovely boy all around really. We played on the pub quiz machine for 
a bit, then moved onto another trendy pub down the road. We all bought a 
round, meaning I managed to consume three pints by the time we parted. It 
may not seem like a lot, but for a girl who gets silly after one half-litre 
bottle of Amstel and who hasn’t slept, it was a miracle I hadn’t passed out. 
Paul and I returned to his flat and sat around his living room taking shots 
of brandy and a painfully strong Greek liquor tsipoura. We stayed up late 
into the morning talking about life, the universe and everything. In many 
ways, it was an extension of what we had been writing each other in emails 
all this time, but for some reason I never expected to be able to voice such 
things in real life. It was fantastic.
Sleep was fantastic as well. There was a slight chill in the air - I had 
been longing for autumn weather; it was 30 degrees when I left Greece - and 
it was so comforting to curl up under a duvet and drift in and out of sleep 
in a lazy way. I woke up early and started reading one of my new books, 
snuggled up warm while rain gently fell against the window. Mmmm. Then I 
dressed and got ready to meet DAFYD at Waterloo. I got only a little lost 
this time, taking a tour of the streets around Waterloo trying to find the 
main station. Actually, my little walk later worked to my advantage, as I 
was able to lead the way back to the station and impress Dafyd with my 
impeccable sense of direction - ha! At least I impressed someone. Dafyd and 
I met and set off for the Tate Modern, skirting the shores of the Thames. It 
had stopped raining; the sun was shining and it was perfect weather. I even 
took off my coat. Daf was adorable and we chatted away. Lovely. The Tate was 
fantastic, except we only had enough time to visit one floor before 
returning to Waterloo to pick up JAMES. James was great as well - 
soft-spoken but not totally shy. And he was practical and decisive and took 
charge, which was also great since both Daf and I are lost and indecisive. 
We attempted to go to a pub at the station, but it had stopped serving food, 
so James suggested we go to Greenwich and have a picnic. So we bought 
sandwiches and drinks at Boots and followed James to a train. Greenwich was 
lovely! We headed directly to the park, which was quite beautiful, and 
climbed to the top of a rather steep little hill to the Royal Observatory. 
It afforded a nice view of the city, and Daf and James attempted to point 
out places of interest, but were pretty hopeless as tour guides. No matter. 
We sat on a bench near the site of many former sinister picnics and talked 
about (what else) sinister characters and activities. We left as it became 
chilly and had a pint at a nearby pub. We left at 5:30 - rush hour, perfect 
- and had to take a random route back, through Canary Wharf - the city’s 
largest skyscraper. We actually accidentally stumbled into the foyer of the 
posh hotel there - a group of grungy kids in cords among well-pressed, 
perfumed suits. We giggled and hurried down some stairs to an underground 
mall and, eventually, tube station. I got back to Paul’s a bit late, and 
felt badly since I had promised to cook him dinner and sent him off earlier 
with a shopping list. I quickly whipped up some pasta and we scarfed it down 
and ran out to meet Nicholas in Soho. We walked around a bit and found a 
pub, where we settled down for the evening and had another three pints. I 
was practically wrecked by the time we left, and even talked politics with 
Nicholas. Eek! Returned home, had another late-night chat over wine, got up 
at 11 and had a lazy morning watching trashy American talk shows and bad 
British soaps. We headed out at 2 to meet Nicholas and ELENA in Camden. We 
went to a CD store, where I bought some awful cheese tapes, and influenced 
Nicholas to buy some as well. Then we headed to a pub to get a bite to eat. 
Elena left just as it started to downpour, and we left shortly afterwards, 
running to a bank and then to a record company where Paul had an 
appointment. We went to another pub, chatted about music and took over the 
jukebox. Two pints later, I set off to meet the notorious KEN CHU at the 
tube station. Ken was adorable, of course. He was wearing a red sweater and 
jeans and was practically bouncing as we said hello and hugged. We walked 
around looking for a place to eat and settled on a pizzeria/restaurant near 
the pub I had just left. It was actually quite nice, and Ken treated me - 
what a gentleman! Girls, beware. We chatted and gossiped loads, then went 
across the street to another pub, where he bought me my first ever vodka and 
Red Bull. I was pretty drunk at this point, and as a gin and tonic arrived 
at the table, I could not shut up. We talked about tons of things, some 
serious, most not. We left as the pub closed and hurried to the station to 
make sure Ken could catch the train back to Milton Keynes. We promised to 
meet back up again at the end of the trip for DDR. Ken wanted to walk me all 
the way home - did I mention what a sweetheart he is yet? - but settled on a 
phone call when I got back. I forgot to call, of course, so he did. Aww. I 
harassed a very tired Paul with my silly drunken chatter and insults, but 
made it up to him the next morning when I made a fantastic batch of home 
fries (little cubes of potatoes, fried with onions and garlic and oregano 
and rosemary for non-Yanks). We watched more bad TV until it was time for me 
to pack up and make my way to King’s Cross to catch a train to Edinburgh. I 
got there JUST in time. I am the sort of person who is usually early for 
everything. But now living on the edge, I was, and it was great.

EDINBURGH

Four hours later, I arrived in Edinburgh. WILL and JEREMY met me at the 
station and there were big hugs all around. Will and I walked back to his 
flat. We sat on his couch and chatted for a bit, then went to the 
supermarket, where I bought ingredients for dinner and breakfast as well as 
pretzels (Will had never tried them!) and Jaffa cakes (I had never tried 
them). When we got back I made pasta with homemade tomato sauce and we 
looked at photos. Then we headed out to a ritzy vodka bar to meet Jeremy. We 
sat for awhile sipping strong, expensive, White Russians, listening to 
cheesy music and watching girls in tight trousers and tops trying to pull. I 
was amused. Will was anxious. Jeremy eventually arrived, a little late, and 
we quickly left to go to The Last Drop, a less trendy, more comfortable, pub 
down the street. I had a few pints and began to get quite drunk and very 
silly. Afterwards we went in search of a chip shop - specifically for a 
famed fried Mars bar. We found one, sans fried Mars bars, and got chips and 
cheese instead. It was the beginning of my new addiction. It was quite a 
hike and I could hardly walk - my vision was blurred and I was quite… bad. 
We headed back to Will’s after a failed attempt to locate Jeremy’s friend 
and a short stop at an Australian theme pub where a guy was painting the 
exterior at 2 a.m. Back at the flat, I got even sillier. There were tickle 
fights. There were dumb jokes that were somehow hilarious. And poking. It 
seemed to go on for hours. Eventually, we admitted defeat and went to bed. 
Will only had one spare bed - a cozy double - so Jeremy and I shared it. 
That’s all. We stayed up a little longer chatting then both passed out until 
morning, when all three of us woke up at an ungodly hour - like 8 or 
something.
Both Will and Jeremy were hurting, but for some reason I was happy and 
chipper and silly as ever. Maybe I was still drunk? Hmm. At any rate, Will 
and I made toast and honey, watched some television and listened to some 
music while Jeremy passed out again. Then we dragged him out of bed and 
ventured into town, stopping at John Lewis department store for an 
electrical adaptor for my mobile and at a café for some coffee and snacks. 
Then we made the long walk to the botanical gardens. We saw some swans and 
considered harassing them, but instead just stood and stared for a bit in a 
weary stupor. Our next stop was a park bench, where we watched clouds making 
a menacing approach. It eventually spurred us into action. We wandered 
around a bit, through ‘copses’ and into a beautiful Chinese garden. Along 
the way, I serenaded the boys with my fabulous rendition of old skool 
classic “Mona Lisa” by Slick Rick, my favorite rap song ever. I also 
demonstrated my amazingly high kicking abilities and swayed around the 
spectacular breezes. Yes, I must have been drunk.
As we left the park, I became convinced that I needed a pint. So we headed 
for a pub in the city and I had a pint and nachos (woo hoo! Something you 
CANNOT get in Athens). The pint had the opposite effect on me than what I 
had hoped. I sunk down motionless as a rag doll, so tired I wanted to pass 
out. I could hardly walk. I decided there was nothing I wanted more than to 
lay in the grass. I reluctantly went accompanied the boys to the train 
station information center to make accommodation reservations for Glasgow, 
then happily waltzed into a nearby park, where I collapsed on the lush green 
lawn, getting a bit muddy in the process. It was glorious, and perked me 
right up. Jeremy left shortly afterwards to return to his friend’s house and 
shower and things. Will and I headed back as well, and I took a long nap, 
then a shower.
The three of us went out again that night, starting at The Last Drop for a 
pint or two, then to a chippy for a fried Mars bar (I was determined to try 
one!). This trip was successful. Woo hoo! But the result was not that 
exciting. I remembered that I don’t particularly like Mars bars in normal 
form, and it didn’t improve much with batter and melty gooiness. But the 
chippy guy was very friendly, saying he hoped to see me again soon. Woo hoo! 
Score! Ha. Afterwards, we went to another pub, an Irish one. We packed it in 
early and parted with Jeremy. Will and I stayed up pretty late chatting, and 
I woke up pretty late the next morning. Had breakfast, packed, and went to 
the train station, where we met Jeremy and headed off to Glasgow.

GLASGOW

Upon arrival in Glasgow, Jeremy and I took a taxi to the bed and breakfast 
we stayed at for three days and Will remained at the station to meet 
SUNNYSET RACHEL. The B+B was great. The owners, Kenny and Ann, were super 
friendly and very Scottish. They gave us a huge room with a double and 
single bed and a million chairs and asked if we were in a rock band or 
something. Oh yes, we look so rawkin! After dropping off our stuff, we 
headed into the city to The 13th Note Café, where Will and Rachel were 
waiting. We got some veggie burgers and chatted a bit. Rachel was so great! 
Super quiet but adorable. I was determined to become her friend. GAVIN came 
in a bit later with Lee from Camera Obscura. He mumbled something and rushed 
off, a bit stressed and pre-occupied with show arrangements I think. They 
later came back and joined us for a veggie burger and drinks.
Eventually, RICHARD, ALLY and CAREY joined us as well. It was almost 
overwhelming meeting everyone at once. We switched to a bigger table in the 
corner near a window, where we sat and chatted for a bit. Ally was very 
friendly and chatty in an adorable, silly way. Carey was quiet but also 
friendly. Rich was pretty quiet, but inserted little witty gems into 
conversation at the appropriate moments. Squished into a corner, I didn’t do 
much but sit quietly and watch. SWEETIE joined us, annoyed at her travel 
schedule, but still adorable, and then HONEY and LINDA. Yay! I wasn’t sure 
they would show, but was very excited they did! Honey was absolutely 
fabulous. We didn’t get much chance to talk, or even hug, until later, but 
then we chatted away like birds. Honey was super popular, of course. It was 
great.
We went downstairs for the afternoon Dudley Corporation gig. Met JOSS 
briefly, who was so sweet and giddy and later did an amazing job drumming 
for not both Joan of Arse AND Dudley Corp. Amazing really. Didn’t meet 
DUDLEY until later, and only briefly, to introduce myself basically. The 
show was pretty nice. I spent half of it on the floor, half of it nursing a 
beer by myself in the back of the room. Had a HARRY sighting, not realizing 
it was him till later. Damn. GORDON joined us halfway through the set. 
Afterwards, we all gathered upstairs again at the same table and had a pint 
to pass the time before the evening Dudley Corp. gig at the university 
post-graduate lounge. We headed out in the chill drizzle to get chips and 
took taxis to the university. We were the first people there. The place was 
so much posher than I think any of us expected. It was quite nice. We took 
over a huge table and got cheap beers from the bar. Gordon made some new 
friends with a handful of international students who came in later. The gig 
was actually part of an international students welcome party actually. We 
were given all sorts of free things, like raffle tickets, slippery Jack 
Daniels coasters and balloons, which we of course inflated and lobbed 
around, much to the dismay of Honey, Carey and a few unfortunate nearby 
students, who all braced themselves for horrifying bursting noises. 
Eventually we moved upstairs to another packed lounge to watch the gig. Will 
and Rachel had to leave early to catch trains home.
CALUMN came in towards the end of the Joan of Arse set. He was as silly and 
fun as I expected and after the gig was over and Gavin started spinning 
records he proved to be quite the suave dancer. Oh yes. Calumn, Jeremy, Ally 
and I all danced like lunatics, taking care not to shake the floor too much, 
however, because it kept skipping the records. At some point, I found out 
through Honey that my pen pal of four years, Ian, was there as well. So we 
went in search of him, and found him downstairs by the doors. It was so 
random and odd! But great! Turns out, he was actually president of the group 
that kept up the lounge or something, so had to be off doing things half the 
time, but we managed to chat in between dancing and errands and made plans 
to meet up the next day. The music stopped at 2 a.m. so Jeremy and I headed 
back to the B+B.
Woke up early the next day, but dozed on and off for a few hours before 
heading down alone to breakfast, where Kenny and Ann chatted with me and I 
discovered lemon curd. Yum. Jeremy came down and we hung around a bit, then 
Ian came to pick us up at 1. He drove us out to the surrounding countryside, 
stopping at a park, where we took a lovely long walk through the drizzle. 
There was live traditional music coming from a nearby outdoor concert and it 
followed us halfway through the park. Archers crossed our path, and elderly 
people set up watercolor sets all around. Other couples in boots walked dogs 
and a few children splashed around. I walked through mud and kicked around 
leaves. It was so wonderful and reminded me of autumn in New England. We saw 
some shaggy freakish Highland cows, which Ian and Jeremy insisted I pet. So 
I reached out to pet the forehead of one particularly large cow, and it 
whipped its horn around to whack my hand away. Jesus. We later walked to the 
remains of a castle and back to the car around a pond. Then we headed out to 
Loch Lommand through some gorgeous countryside and had lunch at an adorable 
pub in a small village.
Ian dropped us off in the center of the city and we met up with Sweetie at 
the bus station and headed back to the Note. We bought some drinks and 
chatted. Rich joined us and we attempted to play some songs on the jukebox, 
but never heard them. Sweetie had to catch a bus, so we walked her to the 
station through the pouring rain, stopping briefly to buy chips and wine. 
After seeing her off, we headed to Rich’s new apartment for a game of 
Scrabble. I had challenged him to a game months ago, building myself up as a 
Scrabble champ. We sat on the floor, sopping wet, each with our own bottle 
of wine, listening to Scott Walker swoon away. I started out doing quite 
well, but I deteriorated rather quickly in ratio with the amount of wine 
consumed, to the point where I couldn’t concentrate on forming any words at 
all. And Rich pulled out some terrific words, like JOWLS on a double letter 
and triple word score, for more than 60 points. Who can compete with that? 
We played two games before I wholeheartedly acknowledged defeat (an 
afterthought really, considering I lost by more than 100 points). To his 
credit, Rich didn’t gloat much. What a guy.
Took a taxi back to the B+B. Slept in rather late. Somewhere along the way, 
America decided to declare war on Afghanistan. I read about it a little in 
the newspaper at breakfast, but decided not to dwell on it. How responsible 
of me. We had to switch to a smaller room, and Kenny spent at least 10 
minutes raving to me about how fantastic the bed’s springs were, even going 
so far as to lift the mattress to show me. Oh dear. We headed into the city 
and met Rich briefly at Avalanche Records, before he had to go to school to 
do some work. We went to an internet café, then headed to the bus station to 
get a ticket to Leeds, stopping at a few shoe and clothing stores along the 
way. Then we headed out to the West End for a bite to eat. Sure, why not? We 
ended up at the Grosvenor Café, a required stop for any B&S pilgrim as it is 
where they met. Ooh. It was like an old-fashioned American diner. I had a 
fab sandwich, then we headed back into the city center. Gav called and 
invited us over to his for dinner, so we took a taxi there. I met his 
girlfriend Jo and her sister Lynn who were both super friendly and fab! They 
gave me huge hugs and kisses and made me feel totally welcome. I love them! 
Then I met YOKOJO as well, who was also nice and a fantastic doll maker. 
Amazing. Gav made some fabulous pasta and was super chatty. It was great! 
Then we piled into his car and headed out to a low-key bar, where we got a 
semi-private little room and talked about films. Calumn, Sweetie and Rich 
joined us. We eventually parted ways and there were huge hugs all around.
Had to get up early to check out and catch a bus to Leeds. Actually made it 
in time for real breakfast for the first time and Ann was amazed and teased 
us about it. Got a taxi to the station and said our farewells.

to be continued...

~dahling


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