I woke up to a beautiful day today.
No blinding sunshine, but a mellowed sky of grey.
I walked into the openness, enveloped by the dampness of it all, with little tickles from the fine, fine rain.
With my jacket, it was a cool, cool day.
My hair was teased by the breeze, and around me was glossed by a sheen of rain.
“It’s a beautiful day,” was my first words to start the day over a long email typed on the train, and the very same words uttered to my colleagues as I stood looking into the tame skies, with my hair ruffled and played in the openness.
“It reminds me of the London I know,” I later wrote in the email, remembering of the days when it was my home, and the land of cotton buds(one day I shall write about it, ahem). This recent trip had me witnessed the most beautiful London ever with the sun in the cold, budding colourful flowers, yet there was part of me that missed the cold, needle-like rain that made my old DKNY waterproof jacket a necessity in my late teens.
That explains my perpetual bad hair days back then, heh.
Okay, having said that, I had no wish for any rain when I was there, but I thought a dab of grey and rain would make good ol’ charming London a little more.. familiar. But I reckon half an hour of it and I would scream “ENOUGH!” cos that was exactly what I got from Moscow.
(I am in so much photo-debt. Clearing them bit by bit before Hanoi, hopefully!)
I walked in the drizzle and stopped when I reached my meeting place today, glazing into the greyness.
Was speaking to Dr Woo the other day, and he had egged me on for yet another pilgrimage visit (I coo-ed over his lomantik trip to Lake District) to kick start my uh, investments over there. Speaking of which, I seem to have an affinity with doctors from there (ahem, ahem, another story for another day). I might get free lasiks if my investments go well. Giggles.
But I need to be sure I ain’t gonna be entangled in one of their pissed ups. Once, they left their drunken comrades at some hospital’s A & E when they were drunk (but more sober themselves). -Shudders at thought-
I am seriously tempted to clear my leftover leave (by September) and go on exploring other places using there as a base. Of course, besides the fact that some of my favourite friends are there (ahem, gotta say that for free accomodation/dinner/treats to swanky “IT” places/high ROI for investment), the ease of travelling due to familiarity, I want to go back and watch more musicals. I have a long list I have yet to fulfilled.
And a trip to Old Trafford, baybeh! No, I ain’t gonna succumb to shopping anymore (darn, a SMS yesterday, “Selfridges having sale! Bags and shoes up to 70% off, you should be here!“) and just gonna stick to going to new places out of the city since I pretty much covered wherever I needed to cover during my stay there.
UCL slipped me by.
I like going to cold, cold places (okay, fine, I know it is summer now..). But then, that’s me, looking for a sense of belonging and familiarity, and yet searching for some sense of surprise in new places never ventured on.
To learn, to see, to feel, to breathe.
To just set off, and let spontaneity to bring me anywhere I head next.
Sometimes I don’t know, I just, you know, pack my bags and go 
I wanna skip… skip.. and skip..
