It was just another overcast Sunday at first. Nothing out of the ordinary.  We braved the cold (as all Londoners must to enjoy any semblance of a social life for three quarters of the year), exchanging the warmth of the apartment for the warmth of a nearby Vietnamese restaurant (and pho noodle soup).

On the way back we ducked in quirky clothes stores-slash-coffee houses and out of the drizzle which threatened to turn into real rain every time we dared to make another pit stop. But there was one more stop left to make before escaping into centrally heated comfort once more...a 'free shop'.

On Commercial Street.  

My first thought was that anything being offered for 'free' in a city as expensive as London had to be taken up. Or at least made time for.

My brother told me not to get too excited - there wouldn't be anything worth taking.  And he was right - a few old recorded TV movies on VHS tapes without covers, mouldy clothes in a damp cardboard box and some dog-eared books that probably wouldn't even appear in a garage sale were haphazardly displayed around the 'shop'.  More interesting was its message, and reason for being.

("Modern society is wasteful and destructive. Throughout the process of mass consumption we are exploiting humans, animals and the environment. Food is shipped halfway across the world only to be abandoned in supermarkets or household bins. It is the financial system that allows this to happen. While we base everything on monetary value without considering other costs incurred we will continue to live in a society of waste + (sic) overconsumption and inequality.")

In one corner was a sign calling for volunteers to sign up to mind the 'shop' so that it could continue to exist.

 I guess what they were really looking for were people to guard the writing on the wall.

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(Photo by Phil Lee)

Another great photo taken on my camera by my brother. We were exhausted after a day spent walking the length and breadth of both Buda and Pest. We were waiting for the sun to set over the Danube River.

I collapsed on a bench by the river and, tired of playing tourist, proceeded to play with my mobile phone, ignoring the view. He was the only one with enough energy to continue meandering around the series of statues that lined the riverbank, snapping away as the light quickly and quietly faded around us.

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The realisation that this was a slogan for a popular chain of stores that sell art supplies didn't detract from how fitting it was that this bold statement should be so casually displayed in central London.

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(Photo by Rikzi: Flickr)


Overheard suits talking during rush hour (5.30pm, Wednesday):


"Just so you know, her Dad has a machete."

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Mojitos on deserted islands are so passe. THIS is exactly what I want to be doing when I retire:


(Photo by Phil Lee)

Soaking in 100-year-old Szechenyi Baths all day with my friends...while playing chess. Ohh yeah.

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Want to try an interesting (and inexpensive) romantic gesture? Go to the love tree, where you can (literally) lock your love up and throw away the key in the nearby Danube River.

It's terribly cliche, and probably much more impressive in other places around the world, but it's still kind of a fun idea, and obviously very popular.

I found the different interpretations of what the lock itself might represent the most interesting part of all.









(Wedlock)

I especially liked the combination padlocks, which our guide said highlighted Hungarians' sense of creativity, and I guess, pragmatic nature. Because after all, "What if you break up?"

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In a flat inhabited by a lawyer and two bankers, you wouldn't be surprised to find clothes racks of freshly pressed suits, button-down shirts and shelves of expensive shoes (pumps, boots, trainers, you name it). Being off Brick Lane, an assortment of so-trendy-it-hurts hats and t-shirts wouldn't go astray, either. But this??











In London, anything goes. No one would even look twice.

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In one corner of an experimental manga exhibition in the Tate Modern (directly opposite the IKEA DIY suicide kit, in case you're interested - strange, I know.) there is a window that faces out onto the Millennium Bridge. It has a filmy grey cellophane-like paper covering the entire length of it, save one tiny crack, through which a tiny beam of sunlight filters through.



My brother walks down that bridge every day on his way to work, and this is what he sees:

(Photo by Phil Lee)

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My weekend in a nutshell.

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While waiting for the train, these two caught my eye. The man was crouched down next to (what I assumed was) his child's pram, so that they were almost the same height. He rested his chin in his hand and locked eyes with the baby, a faint smile on his face. There he stayed, mesmerised, until the train arrived. They looked to be having the most intense conversation humanly possible with only the aid of their facial expressions. The man looked at his son as though he were listening to him explain a concept so profound it required all of his attention.

I found myself thinking that the child will never remember this moment of utter adoration.

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I soon realised that this is Kat's standard awe-struck pose. She has here converted her love of sun to her love of all things Ancient Rome and the movie Gladiator.

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After three weeks of grey sky in dreary London, Kat felt the need to remind herself of what sunlight felt like again.

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Random man: What background are you?

JSYL: Malaysian-Chinese.

Random man: Ohhh!! Like Poh!

JSYL: .........Yeah. Just like Poh.




[Photo: http://1.bp.blogspot.com/]

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It was around 8am when I took these photos on my way to work. It's amazing how many clocks there are in Sydney that stop working on a regular basis. While it can also be frustrating if you're running late somewhere (as I usually am) and really need to know what time it is, it's still kind of fun to walk through different timezones, as though time does not, or should not, exist.

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I usually avoid trains in Sydney like Swine flu. Once you become accustomed to driving everywhere, it's hard to go back to those pre-teen days. Especially because everything isn't so conveniently about 5 minutes walk from a tube station like in London, here. But on this particular day, I wanted to avoid the peak hour traffic more and so walked to Circular Quay station, just across the road from where I work.

I saw someone on the platform I wanted desperately to avoid (Oh don't look at me like that, you know you've all done it too at some point!) so I quickly walked the other way and pretended to be looking away, towards the street outside. When I thought the coast was clear, I turned around to face the opposite platform:



And there stood Sydney's magnificent coathanger, better known as the Harbour Bridge, squeezed in between the mundane slices of the 9 to 5, smiling at me like an old friend who lives next door but whom I never get to see. Ain't she a beaut?





(Excuse the crappy photography, apparently 'zoom x 16' didn't turn out as clearly as I thought it would.)

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During my trip to Barcelona in 2008, I found that the only way to describe a city that never ceases to amaze you is to recall the moments you spend in it. So I've decided there's no reason I can't do the same for my hometown, Sydney. After all, sometimes it's the simplest moments that make all the difference if you just pay attention to them.












(Source: http://www.tripandom.com)


Sitting on the ground next to Harry's with my girlfriends. Dressed to kill but lounging with legs sprawled in front of us to rest our feet, throbbing from too many hours in heels far too high for us. Eating a pie and peas at 1am, shaking with laughter, heads thrown back. Laughing out loud with our mouths full of mash and mystery meat. Totally oblivious yet indifferent to the bewildered passersby.

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To stave off the slow death of this blog, I present you with a list that has been a'brewing for the last 7 months and is now ripe for publication: the post-exchange reflection. It's almost midnight so I'll spare you any emotional shit and get right to it. Enjoy!

Reasons why Sydney Dominates:

There are a bunch of things I really took for granted before the big flight over to London, and which I take more notice of today including:

1. Good (and by good I don't mean the restaurants meet national health and safety standards, just that they taste amazing and authentic) Asian food accessible at every corner: Vietnamese, Japanese, Korean and Malaysian to be exact.

2. Greater diversity and integration of cultures- I actually think Sydney's gotten even more diverse since I left it.

3. Friendly enforcement against 'Tall Poppy Syndrome' is well-established, usually by saying 'Fuck ooofffff' to douchebag beahaviour with a smile.

4. Being able to walk down a street, wearing whatever you want, a short skirt, whatever, and know that you won't get accosted by a junkie (in many, but not all parts)- priceless

5. Personal space is not an illusion in Sydney, it's still a reality.

6. Black stuff doesn't come out of my nose here.

7. Being able to afford to go to a swanky-esque bar occasionally and buy a drink without having to sacrifice, say, food for the next week.

Reasons why London Dominates:

There are also many things I've come to miss about London, no matter how much people whinge about it I will always defend it as a city because...

1. Anonymity still remains a valuable commodity for non-celebrities - being able to wear pyjamas down a street in Central London and knowing no one will even glance twice. There's always someone weirder than you anyway.

2. 'Fuck off' enforcement still rife, but the English equivalent is more of a 1 hour criticism session about some celebrity or sell-out musician/football player

3. SNOW. That is all.

4. Being able to walk down a street and point out all the 1000 year old monuments on either side as you walk past.

5. Being the centre of Europe, newsrooms in London have the potential to become much more interesting

6. Live music- someone that's huge in the underground/alternative music scene internationally can always be found playing somewhere on any given night of the week in London. While Londonians talk about these gigs nonchalantly as such non-events, Australian fans scramble for leaked mp3s and youtube videos for years before they'll even bother coming on tour

7. Random huge crowd events like silent disco in Liverpool Street only made possible by London's huge population




[Photo of Opera House sourced from: bernardoh.files.wordpress.com]

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