Squirk's Overseas Experience

The tales of one Kiwi returning to Mother Britain and exploring the Big Wide World... without being eaten by a shark.

Tuesday, June 28, 2005

The Wiggles used to be a metal band

Wow. Two nights, five visits from emergency services. What a crazy town.

I went out with Alex and a couple of hostel buddies on Saturday night—we almost saw Basement Jaxx live at Hyde Park. Instead, we just climbed trees and sat outside watching the grandmas and grandpas get their respective grooves on.

After some quality kebab time with Alex, a couple of Kronenbourgs and good amount of retarded flopping about, it was time for me to head home and take my first London Night Bus—almost.

I was a witness to a crime involving two dudes, some cocaine, a broken shop-front window, and a seven-inch gash bleeding all over the footpath. I hung around until the ambulance and the police had both come and done their thing.

Last night, a burning car exploded just a few meters from where I was standing. I got the chance to dial 999 and ask for the fire brigade and everything. (It was a blue Chrysler Neon from the mid-nineties)

Also, Burger King's Whopper burger is just the latest in a bad run of bland food I've been subjected to in this hemisphere. I'm sure there's some good stuff around somewhere, though.


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