OK it's not actually as amazing a story as the title would suggest, but hopefully it got you reading my post. You'll have to read till the end of this post for the gory details!
I'll admit I've been a little lax updating the last couple of days. Wednesday was effectively the end of the MSc, finally handed in the summer project. I won't be winning any Nobel prizes with it but hopefully it will be enough to pass muster. Its been a heavy few days of Library time, copious black sweet coffee over the road and endless editing of references so I guess I couldn't face typing anymore text for a few days.
The weather has been amazing this week so having handed in all the work there was a fair bit of sitting in parks catching up with people, checking which secret nook of Bloomsbury everyone has been hiding away in and finding out what their plans from here on are The great thing about LSHTM is you make friends all over the world, a true global village. 
The problem with this is a lot of my friends are about to disappear off around the globe (though I guess I'm perhaps also guilty of this, even if just on a temporary basis) and many won't be about by the time I return. Means I'll be required to head off on lots of fun trips to visit them in the future.
So what about Africa? That is why I'm writing this blog and I guess why you're reading it. Well luckily my procrastination (right word Tommy?) has induced me to actually prepare quite a bit in advance over the last few weeks. There's still quite a bit to do, but not as much I'd feared.
Yesterday involved a lot of riding around London, first over to Maria's in Canary Wharf to collect her brother's Satellite phone. Her Dad had driven over from the Netherlands to pick her up and had a ferry to catch, so this was an early start (thank you Le Grand's!). Then I headed to Canada Water to visit the temple of Quechua. A gorilla I know called Hill (he's quite small blond and angry - some of you may know him) has undertaken a number of physical quests and always seems to head here before setting out to worship his god he names Decathlon. I'm not really a superstitious person, but though it couldn't hurt to make an offering and after my visit I can confirm that he has a fine church which I'm sure will keep me safe on the road.
And finally went to the travel clinic to get jabs (Rabies and Hep A) plus water filters and got enough sorts of DDT based mosquito killers to make Rachel Carson turn in her grave.
...so my ears? Well I thought it best to get my haircut and not wanting to spend £35 which (seemed the going rate on Upper Street) nor able to spend a whole morning at Tony and Guy Academy (you get a chop for £5!) I opted to go for a back street haircut for £8. Surveying the results in a mirror this morning it doesn't seem like too bad a decision. The guy who did it was Turkish with a thick accent and to be honest I couldn't understand what he was saying most of the time. So when it seemed the cut was pretty much done and he mumbled something to me and I assumed he was offering me hair wax so nodded in affirmation. So I was more than a little surprised and slightly concerned when he pulled out an industrial sized cotton bud on a steel rod and proceeded to dip this in a bowl of meths and put a lighter to it! Perhaps I'm a little naive and this Is a common practice in gentlemans barbers but I'd not experienced this before. My assailant then proceeded to put flame to my ears and burn off the downy hairs you get on the edge of your ears. It didn't hurt and he seemed to know what he was doing and as I rode down the road (sorry, the back street) away from the barbers, the smell of singed hair in my nostrils I thought it was probably a hair cut I won't forget.
The problem with this is a lot of my friends are about to disappear off around the globe (though I guess I'm perhaps also guilty of this, even if just on a temporary basis) and many won't be about by the time I return. Means I'll be required to head off on lots of fun trips to visit them in the future.So what about Africa? That is why I'm writing this blog and I guess why you're reading it. Well luckily my procrastination (right word Tommy?) has induced me to actually prepare quite a bit in advance over the last few weeks. There's still quite a bit to do, but not as much I'd feared.
Yesterday involved a lot of riding around London, first over to Maria's in Canary Wharf to collect her brother's Satellite phone. Her Dad had driven over from the Netherlands to pick her up and had a ferry to catch, so this was an early start (thank you Le Grand's!). Then I headed to Canada Water to visit the temple of Quechua. A gorilla I know called Hill (he's quite small blond and angry - some of you may know him) has undertaken a number of physical quests and always seems to head here before setting out to worship his god he names Decathlon. I'm not really a superstitious person, but though it couldn't hurt to make an offering and after my visit I can confirm that he has a fine church which I'm sure will keep me safe on the road.
And finally went to the travel clinic to get jabs (Rabies and Hep A) plus water filters and got enough sorts of DDT based mosquito killers to make Rachel Carson turn in her grave.
...so my ears? Well I thought it best to get my haircut and not wanting to spend £35 which (seemed the going rate on Upper Street) nor able to spend a whole morning at Tony and Guy Academy (you get a chop for £5!) I opted to go for a back street haircut for £8. Surveying the results in a mirror this morning it doesn't seem like too bad a decision. The guy who did it was Turkish with a thick accent and to be honest I couldn't understand what he was saying most of the time. So when it seemed the cut was pretty much done and he mumbled something to me and I assumed he was offering me hair wax so nodded in affirmation. So I was more than a little surprised and slightly concerned when he pulled out an industrial sized cotton bud on a steel rod and proceeded to dip this in a bowl of meths and put a lighter to it! Perhaps I'm a little naive and this Is a common practice in gentlemans barbers but I'd not experienced this before. My assailant then proceeded to put flame to my ears and burn off the downy hairs you get on the edge of your ears. It didn't hurt and he seemed to know what he was doing and as I rode down the road (sorry, the back street) away from the barbers, the smell of singed hair in my nostrils I thought it was probably a hair cut I won't forget.
just pictures of girls... people might think that we are your fan club!! i just want to explain the situation...at the school women were 80% and men 20%.. that is why steve have mostly female friends..
ReplyDeletebesos
You've clearly never been for a haircut in Turkey before! Common practice and strangely enjoyable. Did you get the face massage treatment too? And an offer of 'extras' in the Turkish Bath later, or was that just me? Probably best avoided before a month on a saddle!
ReplyDeleteDan; Yes, I've since found out that it seems the burning of the ears is a common ritual in gentlemen's barbers... the implication being I've been mostly getting girls haircuts up to now, which I guess explains a lot about my appearance.
ReplyDeleteDeby; what can I say...
You can say that you prefer to be with women that to men... especially with such beautiful girls like us :D
ReplyDeletebesos!!