Tuesday, 3 May 2011

London, UK: When the game began...

I walked to Manor House Subway in July 2010, crouched down on the floor and started chalking. I had a few minutes of wondering whether a local would kick me while I was there, annoyed that I appeared to be vandalising their link to the rest of central London.

But alas, nothing of the sort happened so I continued, took a photo and then ran merrily down the steps to catch the tube...

Friend mentioned is Charlie Mallard, a favourite in the 56 household who gave me my first piece of chalk and told me to leave a message in London. She opted for this over a keyring and a postcard with a beefeater on. I would have been happy with either/both.

Moving on, I followed my brother's directions to Stoke Newington Church Street. There I found lots of cafes (a bit like Liverpool's Lark Lane), a shop with a garden store out the back, a line of someone else's washing above it, and a little vintage boutique called Casino...

The girls at Casino let me draw on the front of their shop because I told them it was part of a project that my housemate and I were conducting. At least I think that's what they heard. Having lived in Liverpool for four years, my accent can sometimes become a bit of an odd mangle of Welsh and Scouse. Scwelsh. They seemed excited anyway.

Tommy, who works as a security guard for BBC Radio Merseyside requested this next message. I found a cake shop and decided this was the most fitting place to leave such a statement.

Had to dash after this. I stood up and found a big frown on the other side of the glass next to the cakes...


For mum. The world's biggest Beatles fan.

For my sister Winny, who does up old-school bicycles and makes nice illustrations.

Because I think I'm funny.

Because it's true, I do.
Finsbury Park, London.

For my friend Lea. She introduced me to Manchester hostels, Gogol Bordello videos and most of all, her favourite song 'Illumination'. It came at the right time, I think.

Hard to read on here because it's tiny and my eyes are rubbish. It says I went inside the Houses of Parliament. I did. My friend gave me a guided tour, a free badge and a really cheap cup of tea. WOO HOO.

I ran out and had to buy some more. No Oxford St clothes shopping for me. I asked about six different people where I could find a Ryman. A bad workman shall not blame her lack of tools.



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