![]() |
|
| | | | | | | | | | | | | |
Niels and I wondered around London using the tube, and then when it
turned out to be too cold, with a taxi. We talked, and got to know each
other slowly, updating our understanding of each other almost
constantly. And we both hardly agreed that meeting each other would
have been easier if the rest of the world wasn't on vacation too. More
people and other sorts of interactions would have assisted inlowering
the intensity of our learning about each other.
We sat over many a dinner and breakfast discussing the differences and surprising number of similarities we discovered. He taught me about interfacing really smoothly wiht others through concern for their comfort. I taught him that communicating about being sentient, and how to interface with another sentient being without the social graces can be very rewarding too. I learned about a way, a procedure almost, to be a happy feeling person from Niels. He learned that being happy all the time and causing others to feel so around him is notthe only way to be incredibly effective. He watched my reactions to big and small things. I felt almost clausterphobic as a result. But that too passed as we learned more. |
![]() |
|
| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | |
In part to get over the sense of clausterphobia that ensued from our closeness, I suggested we spend a nice couple of days touring London. So I'm not usually a tourist. I survived it. Niels and I talked about life, social people, trust and love, and happiness. We learned a lot more about each other, and Niels suggested that he found our trip to St Paul's Cathedral especially rewarding as he watched me revel in the smallest worked details. In the cathedral, I was as likely to take a picture ofthe whole place from the pulpit, as I was to shoot a small brass grating in the floor. The fractal nature of my awareness effected him. I wondered off alone later on finally continuing on alone with the tour bus of London's more famous sights: Picadilly Circus, Trafalgar Square, The theatre district, Big Ben, the House of Commons and Westminster Abbey. On foot I wondered around and found a street simply full of small bookshops, each unto itself a specialty nook. And I shopped quite thoroughly late into the evening. :) After a nice dinner, we went off to the National Theatre to see an amusing comedy. Simply beautiful. Being from Denmark, Niels had as much trouble as I with the British accents, and old English grammar, but we did laugh merrily quite often. The play was especially good for the amazing design of its sets. Along with the normal painted scrims, in the floor of the stage were parallel (with the audience) runners that 2D boards could slide on. The sets changed hundreds of times, altering even to change the perspective of the same room at times. Hi-tech in unexpected places. |
![]() |
|
| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | |
Once again, I looked for things for us to do that would take up some of
our attention while we talked. I suggested that wondering up to
Yorkshire where my mum originates from would be an amusing experience.
After renting a car, and smashng it up rather well, we drove up The
NORTH as the motorway seemed to be called, first to Leeds, and then
into York, where we spent the night at a beautiful bed and breakfast
called the Corzone Stables B&B. The next morning, we drove to the
coast near Whitby instead of up into Scotland due to the incredible
amounts of snow we were warned of. We drove through the moors,
something my mum talked a lot of from her childhood, and into Whitby, a
coastal town obviously a thousand years old or more, situated on cliffs
overlooking the North Sea. Huge waves crashed against monstrous dunes
of snow and ice, with ancient cathedrals looking down greyly in
sympathy. This was obviously a summer resort town.
At about this time, Niels' social graces drove me nuts, and my obstinancy in failing to understand their good-willed purposes drove him nuts. SO we headed back to London in silence... Only to find that all roads out of Whitby were snowed closed. The forth route out and around the moors finally worked, but not before the British press filmed us trying to drive around monstrous snowplows. The snow storm simply blew many people's minds around there. :) Guess they might enjoy Toronto's winter! But we made it back to London finally crossingthe enourmous Humber Bridge to do so. We arrived back at his apartment in Chelsea only to find that the electricity had run out, and the place was icy. I got rather upset, and a whole bunch of stuff unravelled... Niels desire to do things to make me feel at home in all sorts of ways had been nice, but similarly, it had created a reliance in me that simply couldn't deal with the idea of no electricity in a first world country's apartment. We talked late into the night instead of attending any parties, while fireworks lit the room through the great leaded windows. |
![]() |
|
| | | | | | | |
Final morning: With all the flowers we'd accumulated from street vendors
while I was there opening their petals, we said goodbye for now.
I spent a fun flight with 14 year old Nick Barr of London reading Judge Dredd comics, talking computers, and harassing the stewardesses. Richard picked me up at the airport, and welcomed me back to Toronto with a bottle of champagne. He was proud of me for doing all osrts of worldly brave things. I am rather proud of myself too, and I have a wonderful new incredible friend too. |
![]() |