Herself and I are looking for our first place together. We see each other everyday and spend all our free time together anyway, so figure it’s probably time to take that next step and just see what happens. We’re hoping to move within the next month as the lease on her place runs out in early September, so we spent the best part of yesterday morning bothering the estate agents of North East London. With unrealistic demands, a laughable budget, and an impossible deadline, we were humoured, had our details taken, and then swiftly shown the door from at least 10 different offices. If anywhere was available, they told us, it was taken just before we walked in – of course. Not to worry, I said to Herself, if it comes to the worst then we can always spend a few weeks sleeping on the Embankment like a pair of down and outs. At least we’re having nice weather at the moment. I can start collecting cardboard boxes just in case. I like to think of these kinds of ideas as being romantic, she prefers to call them stupid.
Never to be disheartened, we decided on a change of scenery for the afternoon and hopped on a bus to Angel Islington for lunch. Fattened up on Mexican food and homemade lemonade, we set out on what was supposed to be a short walk through the neighbourhood, but actually turned into a 10 mile trek down through the city, eventually ending up at the London Docklands in Wapping. Along the way, we stopped for tea in the shadow of the mighty Saint Paul’s Cathedral, played hide and seek amongst the columns of the Old Port of London Authority Building on Tower Hill, and marvelled at the luxury yachts moored at the St. Katherine Dock. Like tourists in our home city, we took pictures of what we’ve seen a hundred times and wondered why we had never noticed these things before. We tried to remember the lyrics to songs by The Beatles and danced to tunes that we made up on the spot before racing each other back to her apartment and collapsing when we got in the door.
In the evening, we shared a bottle of Newcaste Brown Ale and talked about our future home together (wherever we might end up). By then, we were both so exhausted that most of what came out was half nonsense. When you’ve spent the whole day exploring the city together then you already know what the other person is thinking and words do little more than clutter the air between you. As we settled down for the night, I just kept quiet and concentrated on not ruining the moment by saying something too stupid. Now it’s Sunday and as she works on her Master’s dissertation, I’m typing the end of this story. Enjoy the rest of your weekend.