Quarantine

I can now add Quarantine to my list of UK experiences. Don't ask me about the details, all I can tell you is:

1. It's not as bad as it sounds


2. I'm not really sick


3. I'm in good hands (mostly)


4. I volunteered for this


5. I'm getting paid for the whole thing

If you're ever in a similar situation, the following survival tips might come in handy:

1. Latex gloves make great balloons

2. Butterflies can sting

3. Whenever offered a cannula, politely say: “No bloody way!”

4. It's possible to lower Blood Pressure and Pulse with a bit of strategic Meditation

5. Good company and a sense of humour does wonders for the immune system

6. Eating lots of fruit keeps the body healthy, drawing them keeps the mind occupied

7. Online Flash games can keep you sane. When cabin fever sets in and you run out of things to do, you can always find a little time-waster online. These are a few of my favourites. Click on a picture to try the game. Unfortunately, it will not open in a new window, so once you've played one, hit the back button to try the rest.

A Moving Experience

Warning: Readers sensitive to sentimental, melodramatic nonsense may want to avoid this entry and wait for one with pretty pictures and videos.


Tonight our house feels a bit colder than usual and I don't think it's just winter setting in. I have cleared out the room myself, but suddenly it's emptiness strikes me as unexpected. The almost lonely atmosphere is enhanced by the fact that I know downstairs others are getting ready to leave as well.






I've never been a fan of long-term commitment. I have moved house five times in the last three years, it doesn't take me long to get tired of a job, adding a new employer to my ever expanding CV every now and then and my relationships rarely last more than a couple of months. It's easy to put my wanderlust down to just being a free spirit, but in truth I've never been able to figure out what exactly it is I'm chasing (or what's chasing me). All I know is that I've always felt there must be more out there, a life purpose to be discovered, a soul mate waiting to be found, a calling to accept rather than a job to apply for, potential to be realised, a destiny to be fulfilled. You might say I have unrealistic expectations, that I'm idealistic, a dreamer and even a little naïve. You may be right, but it's being all these things that keeps me going, keeps me young, makes me try harder, looking forward to tomorrow, keeps me alive and at the same time keeps me from ever being completely satisfied, always running, whether it's towards or away from something.


Growing up and living in a community where people lead relatively stable (one might even say boring) lives, my outlook on life has always made me feel like a bit of an outsider. It was relatively easy to leave behind that life and place that was all I knew since I can remember, because I knew that if I ever wanted to return, it will still be there, more or less unchanged. Ironically, it is considerably more difficult to leave behind my first London home, probably because I felt more at home in this messy, chaotic, temporary stop-over than in my so-called hometown. My housemates, who were strangers to me less than four months ago, may be following different paths from my own, some more sure of where they are going, some less, but at least they are all following some kind of path, going somewhere. Whether it be Amsterdam for a weekend, the Caribbean for a lifetime or the supermarket down the street, which is still halfway round the world from the hometown they started off in, they are going somewhere. And because they are going somewhere themselves, they can not be left behind by me, unlike the people back home. It also means they can not be returned to, because like me, they will not be here.


And yet, knowing all this, I am moving anyway, without any guarantee that were I might end up next will be better than here. Why? You might say it's just the rush of the unknown calling again, but it's more than that. It's because I know there is still more out there, more strangers who will become friends, more late night and early morning conversations around kitchen tables or on dirty sofas, more beers to be shared, more unplanned adventures to be had. And every time I move on I like to believe that I am getting a little closer to that illusive “something” that I am chasing, a life I may find worth settling for, a place worth staying in. But until I find that, leaving an empty house every now and then always outweighs the prospect of hanging around in one place indefinitely, wondering: “What if?”.


If following my path means meeting more temporary travelling companions than permanent neighbours, then so be it, because having to say farewell to people worth meeting still beats never meeting them in the first place.

Loch Ness or London?

There's been talk of strange sightings along the Thames at night. One rumour tells of a creature so far only labelled “Classification Pending”:

"Witness a new life form living in the Thames... Only appearing at dusk, they develop into an apparition – like creatures of folklore before them."

I had to investigate, so armed with my camera-phone and notebook I took to the streets of London at sunset. By the time I got to London Bridge, as guided by my "Here-be-Monsters"-Map, the almost-full moon was rising slowly over the skyline towards Tower Bridge in the East.



My search began on the south bank, moving north over the bridge, keeping a close eye on the water below. I arrived on the other side of the river without spotting anything exceptional, but wasn't discouraged and decided to get closer to the water level by going down the dark, deserted stairway leading to the Thamespath.



After a while the icy night wind turned my nose into a red, runny block of ice and the thought of abandoning the monster-hunt crossed my mind, but then I saw something gliding through the water without a sound, not far from the shore. It was only visible for a moment, but I instinctively knew that this is what I came to see and quickly went back up to street level on the bridge for a better view.



I joined a small group of people already hanging over the side of the bridge, watching the water attentively. The air was filled with a sense of wonder as they whispered to each other and then someone broke the silence: “Look at that!”, followed by cries of “There it is!” and “Cool...”. From the depths a creature emitting a faint white glow emerged, first only showing glimpses of itself, later swimming just below the surface for longer periods of time before vanishing again.
I activated the night mode setting on my camera and chose a high exposure to make sure I got evidence of what I just witnessing. I filmed the dark river for what felt like ages, hoping for another appearance, the cold numbing my fingers, making it hard to keep a firm grip on my camera. Sure enough, the waves were illuminated once more, this time by two of the mysterious animals. Later they were even joined by a smaller, playful little one and for a moment I was wondering if this was London or Loch Ness:



For related sightings seen around London, like the perpetually sinking sailboat or the ghostly green outline of the old Blackfriars Rail Bridge appearing on it's former posts after dark:




Visit http://www.drift.org.uk/ .