Under the London Sun

I actually wrote this a week ago and I'm finally posting:

I've been in London for a little while now and those first few weeks were a little rough, to be honest. I wasn't having a bad time, but I was admittedly having difficulty adjusting to life here.

I experienced some mild culture shock, and though most of the time it was amusing-- like noticing that one of the commands on my microwave is "CHAOS DEFROST"-- but once these things started interfering with my ability to function, I got a little overwhelmed. Eventually, I really need to know how to defrost something, hopefully sans chaos.

Other frustrations have included: not knowing how to mail things, learning that everything closes at 6 on Sundays (including the grocery store), discovering that the ramen noodles make ours seem gourmet,  etc. Sometimes I feel like a child. But then a nice taxi driver explains tipping protocol or a market vendor says "Thanks, Love" with a smile and things are right in the world again.

So now I want to get to the experience that inspired me to write this blog in the first place. We'll call it my "Eat, Pray, Love day"-- for soon to be obvious reasons. Come to think of it, I could also refer to this as my Diane Lane day, because she always seems to be living out this scenario in her movies: I started out feeling lonely and contemplative, had the courage to wander out on my own in a foreign place, met stereotype-matching foreign characters that gave me advice about life, admired the small things that served as metaphors for existence, and emerged a changed woman with a new outlook, a la Under the Tuscan Sun.

Saturday morning, I woke up early-ish and went to Portobello Road. I've been here before with my dad a few years ago, so I pretty much knew what to expect. It's packed with tourists and a lot of things are cheaply made/overpriced, but it's fun.

I got a coffee and wandered around. I decided that the severe penny pinching I've been doing was going pretty well, so I started looking for my souvenir of choice (a chance to "treat yo' self"): antique cameras. I collect them, by the way. I like cameras because photography is a long-time hobby, but also because they are undeniably romantic and mysterious. Holding one in your hands, it's hard not to imagine where it's traveled and what pictures it's taken in its lifetime. I know, I'm getting over the top Diane Lane/Eat, Pray, Love, but to me, they're the perfect souvenir.

Luckily, I stumbled upon a sign that said "CAMERAS" with an arrow pointing inside one of the indoor stall areas. I was quick to find a small stand packed full of a couple hundred cameras. The vendor was in the process of selling something to a young couple, so I stood back and waited for them to leave because I wanted to be able to stand there and reallllly look, like a true nerd.

Once I made it up to the counter, I started talking to the vendor, Josef. A talker for sure, he started telling me about each of the cameras I showed interest in (and more). You could tell he is regarded as the local expert because a couple of times while I was standing there, people approached his stand because they were sent by someone else. People came and went, but I stayed for a while to hear Josef talk about his wares and give me collecting advice. He told me very simply that he doesn't mind cosmetic damage to an old camera because hey-- it's old! So true, Josef.

He had a pretty thick accent, so I asked him where he's from even though I could already tell-- Greece! I told him about my own Greek heritage. He said he could tell I am Greek from my features-- haha, sure. I ended up buying two cameras from him and he gave me a discount for being Greek (score!) and he said that next time I come back, he would tell me the Greek equivalent of "Susie" (he couldn't remember but he said he'd ask his wife who would definitely know). So I made a friend at the market, and I will most definitely be back, and I'll probably come home with a suitcase full of old cameras. When I left the stand, Josepf shook my hand and said, "See you next week!" So I guess I'll be back soon.

I saw a lot of other neat things as I wandered on: compasses, old printing blocks, teapots. I was reminded of my dad a lot because of our visit here together when I was barely in college. The sun was shining and an amateur musician was playing Katy Perry's "Firework" on sax (it was a very jazzy, very hilarious rendition)  and I was thrilled to be having the day I was having. I even got a compliment in passing-- "Nice glasses, eh?"

I had spent my allowance on cameras, so I decided to pick up some very affordable produce at the fruit and veggie stands and head home. I'm trying to use this opportunity (being broke) to learn how to cook, so I examined the fruits, veggies and spices carefully. The vendor was very obliging, letting me smell and taste some things. He even told me how to cook some of the veggies, like fennel (not quite that adventurous, yet). Coming home on the tube with a bag full of groceries from the farmer's market made me feel more established. I thought to myself-- "Wow, I live here" and then I thought, "These bags are heavy."

Portobello road was by far the best experience I've had since I've been here. Meeting vendors, Josef especially, and seeing all kinds of interesting things-- this is the kind of experience I intend to have, especially when I'm traveling. I feel much more motivated to explore London and hopefully have more revelatory experiences like this one.