Sunday, 26th March
When passing through customs at Heathrow, all Australians should be warned
that the English watch Neighbours. This show has done immeasurable
I had a look at another flat early in the afternoon, this time in Hammersmith.
It seemed nice enough, but I got the feeling that the two incumbents had
already decided on someone else. (I reckon it was the cute Australian
girl that left soon after I arrived. The male flatmate was completely
in love with her.) Anyway, we were doing the "little chat" thing,
and I uttered those two magic words, "fair dinkum".
Well the female flatmate cracked up. She asked "Do people in Australia
really talk like that? I thought it was just on Neighbours."
They didn't call me back.
Later in the afternoon I ventured out to South Ealing. I liked the look
of South Ealing, it looked like a relaxed area, not too stressful. I say that
because there weren't adverts in the phone booths for massage services. Not
like Kensington, where the people are very stressed.
The house in South Ealing was populated by four actors, and it actually had
a back yard! It was the first place I had seen in London with a back yard.
They even had a barbecue! Alas, I missed out on the flat (despite all of them
being captivated by my quaint Australian sayings, unlike that silly girl from
Hammersmith). But they sounded sincere, which is good.
"Are you Bob from Dallas?" he asked. No I bloody well am not. West Hampstead
was the last flat on my list for Sunday, and things hadn't started well.
Monsieur was studying his masters in architecture (and I thought I
had wasted my time at university) and the two sheilas looked like professional
students as well. I only got to speak to him, and he suffered from a chronic
case of name dropping. To tell the truth I don't give a shit about Natalie
I didn't bother ringing them back.
Spoke to the medical students from Fulham again. Looks like a goer. Fulham here I come!
POSTSCIPT: I had a dream last night that Carlton lost to Collingwood by four points.