Onward!!

This afternoon, I walked the distance of a couple of tube stops to find a camping store I had looked up on the Internet. I was looking to replace tent pegs I’d trodden on and twisted or possibly borrowed to others and neglected to recover on previous outings.

Having quit familiar territory, I walked past a dingy council estate, laughing at the long line of cars queueing up on my left to wait at temporary lights because of some pipe work being laid down on one of the lanes. A cat peeked its head through a fence at around eye-level on my right but ran away before I could quite fathom it was there. Evidently squatting an old, run-down, long-since closed pub building, a woman with long, straggly hair stared at me, her eyes following me down the road like the dog’s that was standing next to her.

Arriving at the camping shop, I was pleased to notice packs and pans and camouflage gear on the forecourt. But I was to discover that it was more like a boy’s dream shop gone horribly wrong. Inside, in the half-light of the sun shining through windows piled high with stuff and shelves, I saw the floor was mostly empty. The place stank. I didn’t know whether it was the two sales staff or something in the pipes and sewers. Now, I’m not squeamish about smells in the least, but felt sympathy for anyone working there. At least as a customer I could get what I want and leave quickly.

I ended up buying aluminium tent pegs at a discount from stock that the guy excitedly told me they’d “found” and been told to sell at last year’s prices. Under what pile of forgotten army surplus rags, I can only begin to imagine.

My friend Nancy participated in Anthony Gormley’s 4th Plinth project, “One & Other” today. She was doing it to support a charity dealing with the plight of the homeless, which is something I find very admirable indeed. I hadn’t initially thought much about the setting of the project, but instead had worried about what I would do for the allotted 1 hour, were I given the chance to go up there. However, seeing the video of her up on the plinth played back really hit me. There she was, standing for something she felt near and dear to her, in an absolutely iconic bit of London, with the fountains behind her here, taxis whizzing by her there. It must have been quite exhilarating to be up there, and I did feel a bit of a desire to apply for it and get my hour in the spotlight. It was one of those “wow, London” moments that hit me sometimes.

But then, if I was chosen to go, I’d have to think of something worthwhile to do for an hour by myself.

Spending another Sunday mostly recovering from the revelry of the two previous nights, coupled with a few early starts in the preceding week has reminded me of what I guess I always knew: I am in the seeming minority of people that like mornings. Waking up early and getting things done before the day has even properly started is one of those things I honestly enjoy but will fully accept most people rolling their eyes at. Still, feeling like I’ve done absolutely nothing save for a trip to the shop to get something to eat  - I just can’t see someone finding that attractive. Feel free to disagree, I’d like to know.

London really isn’t conducive to early starts, though. There’s always something on in the evenings, and the work day tends to drag on too. Once you get swept up in it all it’s hard to extricate yourself. At least it feels like it’d require quite fundamental changes in what I do and the times I see people, and I think it’s only natural be concerned for your social life.

I’m going to start hunting for self-discipline and self-control. Getting things done and feeling on top of things, enjoying an unhurried early morning before work. Considering it’s a time of transition I’m going through in any case, I don’t see why not.

I’ll see how I can combine this determination with an imminent festival weekend, though. Not too well, I suspect.