This train terminates at Stanmore!

Peak hour. 18:29, 4th of March 2019. I am in a Jubilee line train from Stratford to Stanmore. Since the train just started from its first station, it is not too crowded yet. A  gentleman, well suited, is sitting in front of me, reading the Evening Standard with a lot of attention. Blue tie, navy suit and white shirt. His backpack looks as if it belongs to a mountain cyclist rather than a lawyer or banker. Well, pretty hard to look immaculate with this London weather. Can’t say that my shoes are cleaner than his. 

The speed of the train makes me feel a bit dizzy and sleepy. Every single person in this coach  has something in their hands be it the phone or simply the evening newspaper. We are all tired, it’s Monday and like usually, it’s going to be a long week. 

Canary Wharf now and the crowd floods this train from all the doors, if only they could use the windows too. 90% of the people getting on at this station are in black, blue and grey. Seems like I entered into a colourless world, where I can find all the dark shades.

Yup, I was right. Now I cannot even see the person in front of me. Skirts, stiletto shoes, black suits and black backpacks. Here and there a white shirt appearing like a  stain. A lady standing in front of me, decorated with two bags and a hand bag is really doing her best to complete all the sudoku boxes with the right number, or maybe she is thinking of the next letter of a crossword puzzle. Well does it really matter?

Nothing much to see at this point, and indeed nothing much to tell. People are trying to kill their time, if only they could fly back home. The most boring ones are reading the ads next to the London tube map. Unfortunately, this month the ads are not that funny as they used to be. 

London Bridge now. I can smell a fusion of three, four or maybe ten perfumes. Not too soft and pleasant though. The gentleman I was telling you before is not interested in reading the news anymore, or perhaps he read everything by now. He’s phone is away, he’s daydreaming for sure. 

The train is not crazy crowded now and I can see a Chinese lady holding a closed notebook in her hands, she’s about to write something, but her is too tired. Ohh! An idea suddenly came, she opened her notebook. Still reading. Still thinking. Still not writing, yet. But now she is writing. Well done, ideas! Well done! Too bad I cannot read Chinese ideas. She stopped again. 

Bond Street now and unfortunately I cannot see the Chinese lady anymore. May the inspiration hit us both. 

The gentleman left and a young lady took his seat. This time, she’s busy with her phone. Black outfit and pink nails. A beautiful ring on her finger and a clean backpack. The shoes are spotless. Maybe after all is not that difficult to look impeccable regardless the weather. 

The same speed and my brain is about to explode. What is the little poor yellow feather looking in a train? Whatever. 

Phone, phone, phone, phone, newspaper, annoying pink trousers, brown Michael Kors backpack and phone again. I am not saying it is good, I am not saying it is bad either.

The lady is getting off at Swiss Cottage. The pink annoying trousers took her sit. Pink annoying lips and pink annoying earrings. A bit of pink annoying dots on her sneakers. 

West Hampstead now and the train is suffering a bit of change here. A bunch of people getting out and another bunch getting in. The lady sitting next to me is watching a movie. The gentleman with newspaper just gave me a glace. I looked into his eyes for less than a second. 

Nothing much to say at this point. It is pretty quiet, not a surprise since we are too busy in our little world, too busy to look around and too busy to smile. 

The fragile yellow feather is still on the floor. A gentleman sneezed three times, lounder and louder, he got some attention. OH, fourth time now. Call a doctor, sir! Now for sure he had attention, more than he wanted.  

Willesden Green and I am almost home. Less and less people around me. Not an interesting journey I would say. The crying kids were missing and the drunk group of friends are left for the weekends. Again, it’s Monday. A typical Monday. Rainy and windy day,  same journey, same routine and same tired and busy  people. Oh wait, this is not a typical Monday day. Most probably this is a typical life day. Unless you are not a typical kind of people. I hope you are not. 

Dark outside and silence again. That’s my station. After all, mind it. Mind the gap. Or whatever you want in this short life.

Do you mind? 

“When a man is tired of London, he is tired of life.”

London Underground Quotes

Rainbows on the streets!

It is often said that love is hard to find. Well, not if you go around Spitalfields for a simple walk or just for “old fashion” shopping. You’ll find so much love there, almost hard to believe. Love for vintage clothes, vintage shoes, vintage paintings, vintage hairstyle, vintage shops, basically vintage everything. Vintage everything and a little bit of something. A little bit of graffiti here, a little bit of graffiti there, a wall full of graffiti  here, and a full building covered with graffiti there. 

And here we are, in a world fully covered with thousands and infinite colours. Sometimes too many and too strong for the poor sensitive retinas. However, explosion of creativity makes the surroundings look as if it rained with colours.  But what can be done? Art is not meant to be understood, but simply to be felt and appreciated. 

If you hear someone saying that love cannot be found on the streets, tell them to change a bit the perspective. Love and kindness can easily be found on the streets. A smile from a street performer, an old couple holding their hands, a father running side by side with his little son holding a teddy bear, a bus driver who waits for you, a hot chocolate on your way back to home after a tiring day, thousands of book shops, they are all on the streets. No, it’s no big deal and it doesn’t happen only in movies.  Drops and drops of happiness. I am not saying that you’ll find the ocean, but if all these things are not a drop in the ocean, I have no idea what they are. 

Art is all over the streets, amongst people, cars, train stations, buildings, routine, deadlines, hospitals, houses and castles. If art is everywhere, love is there too. Because art is love, and love is gold! Isn’t it amazing? 

“The earth without art is just eh.”

Demetri Martin

Once upon a… snow

It was supposed to be a magnificent landscape, I guess. A white blanket wrapping the naked trees, the streets and millions of little, fragile stars playing cheerfully with the wind. But it wasn’t like that.

It was one of those mornings when a cup of coffee could not drag me out of the bed. Actually, this time I was hoping to see the fluffy clouds, on the street not in the skies, instead of seeing busy people trying hard to make their way through snowflakes. I still have no idea what can be so bad about snow. Why everyone is in a hurry? Late for work? Too cold? Who knows…

It did not take me too long to understand. I could relate with their feelings when I was on the other side of the window. Cold, windy weather and the snow covered streets made me realise that the clouds had indigestion. Flush, water, flush, a bit of snow, flush, again water and more snow this time.

Bye, Bye fairytale landscape.

Well, I have to admit that London is amazing, but not when it’s snowing. Especially not in the morning, when everything is so, so grey and grumpy. The four minutes wait for the tube seemed to be 40. Peak hour, crowded, tiredness and to be fair enough, a bit of sadness. Does anyone know if ‘Kinder Sad’ is on sale?

And again the same routine. Plus extra warning announcements in the stations. “Please take extra care”... blah, blah, blah. For sure not the best morning. Yet.

Two snowflakes playing with the clouds suffering from agony on the street. This time, the two snowflakes have a mother and a big brother who was silently following the mom. You know, that kind of mom who has a great morning if she doesn’t forget the kids at home.

The minions were jumping into the puddles, laughing innocently. It was the best definition of living your life, no matter how strong the wind is or how much one hates winter. Because when you’re busy being happy, the minus degrees won’t even affect you and the ice will start melting. And suddenly, I find myself smiling. Why? Good question!

See you at the next stop. But until then, Hakuna Matata guys!

“People where you live, the little prince said, grow five thousand roses in one garden… Yet they don’t find what they’re looking for… And yet what they’re looking for could be found in a single rose.”

Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, The Little Prince

Keep calm and WELCOME!​

Pretty simple, isn’t it? Well, nothing should be complicated if you have the ability to keep calm no matter what the situation is. That’s the London vibe. You’re sad? Drink a cup of tea! You failed your exam? No problem! Drink two cups of tea, this time for a British effect add some milk into it. Or what a Romanian would say it’s ”Simplu ca bună ziua”.

London, a city where everyone feels like home, because why not? Everyone is welcome! Almost 9 million people, all over the globe, call this place their home. You can get lost so easily in the crowd of the diversified unknowns, and in all honesty, the feeling is ecstatic. There is no wonder why on the billboards of London you find written “The worst in London is better than the best day anywhere else”.

Through this blog, I would try to bring out the vibrant life of London and its astounding history alongside the glory of modernism. Following my ambition of writing about people and places I would be adventuring into the streets of London and probably writing about the untold stories of the commuters.

Their stories need to be told because London is constantly changing. Every sunrise, this mini-universe is different than the last sunset. The dwellers of this city change it bit by bit every single day. It’s a symbiotic relationship between the inhabitants and the city, who will not be in debt.

Now, because it stopped raining, let’s stroll the streets and corners of London with enthusiasm and an umbrella… you know, just in case. Shall we?

Thanks for joining me!

“We shape our dwellings, and afterwards our dwellings shape us”- Winston Churchill