Last weekend I printed off my train tickets at Newcastle, and headed
back down south to see some of my best friends in the whole wide world. Now I'm
sure not many people have had their best friend move to the other side of the
planet for two years, so not many of you will know how it feels to see them
again after so long, but let me tell you - it is the best feeling ever.
Now, it wouldn't be a real blogpost from me if I didn't mention the new
One Direction single, Drag Me Down, which is incrEDIBLE (please check it
out and maybe even buy it on iTunes that'd be great thanks). So I downloaded it
on my phone and plugged in my headphones for my 3 hour train journey. I even
managed to fit in some George Ezra and The Smiths too. When my train stopped at
York, I saw a man come to the platform to see off, who I'd assume to be, his wife/partner
and their young son and as the man ran alongside the train, I sat in my window
seat listening to Barcelona with the sun shining on my face
and I couldn't help but cry. I don't know if it was the fact that I'd woken up at
6:30 that morning for the first time in a couple of months, or the fact
that I was so touched by the scene I front of me; but I definitely cried a fair
bit, enough to make a guy putting his luggage into the overhead storage above
the empty seat next to me, move to the seat behind. But that's okay really
because I wanted my own space.
After I pulled up in Kings Cross and exchanged a series of texts with
Leon going mostly "turn left stupid" "no through the gates"
I ran into open arms with a great thwack on my back which I was unable to
recover from for at least a day. We went for Wasabi sushi which was utterly
disgusting and I left it in my friend's bedroom (sorry). I travelled on two
trains to my friend's house, and we went for nachos and milkshakes and sat on a
bench and discussed feminism and crap H&M tshirts. We also attempted to
watch Harry Potter before sticking it on mute and turning off the lamp.
The next morning we headed into London and met our other friend Kati at
Liverpool Street even though she was a few carriages back on the same train as
us. After giving up forty-fucking-pence to go to the toilet, we travelled on
the tube in the opposite direction to
where we needed to go and eventually got off at Piccadilly Circus which I'd
never seen before and walked down to the National Portrait Gallery. After
passing some stupid street performers and taking some photos, we went inside
and I saw some of the best art I've ever seen. I went inside and I was
surrounded by Van Gogh and Klimt and Monet and Cézanne and Beuckelaer and
it was incredible. I was surrounded by world class art that I'd never seen
before and it was really something else to be there. The textures and colours
of the paintings, even behind the glass sometimes, made me stare at it for
several minutes whilst my friends left me behind in the room. I've never had
the chance to see such art first hand and I'm unable to write something
fluently about Sunflowers or The Portrait of Hermine
Gallia (my favourites of which I saw), but would 10 out of 10
recommend.
After having lunch in Trafalgar Square and watching people cheer for the
cyclists passing by trying desperately to get onto the SnapchatLive London
story, we headed for The British Museum. We only stopped briefly there to see
some Ancient Egyptian, Roman, and Greek exhibits, and also some other cool
pieces. We scaled the stairs to the library, only to be turned away by an
obnoxious black door denying us entry. After this we sat outside and ate ice
cream and waffles and planned what to do for the afternoon. Following some arguing
(“I haven’t seen you in two years and this is how you treat me?”) we got on the
tube and headed over to Southbank.
I’d been dying for months to see the One
Nation under a Groove photography exhibition at the Southbank centre since
I’d read about it on i-D, so was thrilled to finally get to see the photos on
show. I’m a real sucker for anything about youth cultures of the past so the
old magazines on display from the 70s, the insane playlist playing in the room,
and of course the photos were a real treat. It was cool to see a load of old
vinyls hanging on the walls and a pin-up board for visitors’ notes, a film
about music from the 40s through to the late noughties, even a badge and tshirt
making station. It was great to have a wander round and we even managed to fit
in grabbing a quick photo from their make shift photo booth. I even bought a
new book for the long train ride home.
Eventually, after enjoying the London sunset, walking along the side of
the Thames, and I think someone bought a book; we got back onto the sweltering
tube to head for Kings Cross and Liverpool Street. I was on the other side of
London with less than half an hour till my specified–train-only train left
Kings Cross for Newcastle when I realised that it was ten past six, and I was
beginning to panic a little bit - especially after an empty train pulled up to
the full platform, didn’t open any of its doors, and then pulled away. At some
point after that, I managed to get out the crowded tube carriage and into Kings
Cross. I was then handed a free fab ice lolly by someone working at the train
station due to the sweltering heat in London that day, hauled onto the train by
Leon, and then I was on my way home.
It was such a good weekend that I will keep in my camera roll forever. I saw some great art, some great photos, bought
a sick book, was overcharged for a bottle of water (classic London), ate a
stunning egg and cress sandwich and, most importantly, saw some of my best
friends.
Best. Weekend. Ever.
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