Just one of those days

I always liked Sunday. Most people find this strange because Sunday usually means one thing: tomorrow is Monday, aka, you’ll be waking up to an alarm in the morning. But to me, Sunday allows you the chance to end one week on a bang, and set the tone for the one that follows.

Today was one of those days. Not One Of Those Days…Ugh. But One Of Those Days…Yessss.

Rather than be all writerly — hey, I’m tired, and the sounds of a Harp will go off at 8:25 tomorrow — here’s a quick hit on why today was Just One of Those Days…Yessss.

Because…when I went to my “local” coffee shop this morning, the barista remembered me. (Granted, I had been there just yesterday. But still. His smile said, “Hello, local girl.”)

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Ain’t that the truth.

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My “local”: White Mulberries

Because…I allowed myself to buy only ONE paper today – and I read the whole thing. Including supplements.

Because…I knew where to get the No. 100 bus even though I wasn’t near my usual stop. AND it came right away.

Because…when I got off the Tube at Chalk Farm to roam Primrose Hill (something I’d been waiting on the damn weather to do), the sun was shining, the locals were dining outside and the shops were open. (Nearly every other time I’ve gone to explore a new neighborhood, my timing has been off and all the boutiques were closed or closing.)

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There’s a light at the end of winter and I found it on Primrose Hill.

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Over the Hill and Far Away…there’s London Towne

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Pretty Primrose

Because…when I went into the local independent book shop, the Julian Barnes book that I had just yesterday added to my list, was on display. Now it’s been upgraded from list to shelf.

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Because…when I finally decided to eat something at 3:50 and walked into Lemonia (recommended by my Post editor for “its consistently delicious Greek food”), the lovely old man running the show let me stay even though they stop serving lunch at 4p.m. (He turned at least five other people away. I felt a little guilty, but only a little. Especially after having the most delicious lemon and rice soup concoction EVER.)

Lemonia from the outside.

Lemonia from the outside.

Because…when I finally found TriYoga, the studio that several people have suggested, er, trying, there happened to be a class starting in 15 minutes. I hadn’t practiced in weeks because of having visitors – both of the family and friend variety and also of the sickness variety – so this was a true gift. Not only was the studio absolutely lovely, with high vaulted ceilings and wooden beams, bright white walls and huge loft windows, plus flowers sprinkled about; but the class was one of the best I’ve had in London. And that thing the teacher did to my head, neck and shoulders during savasana? Gosh, it felt like forever.

Wishing you all..Just One of Those Weeks. X

A beautiful (rainy) day in the neighborhood

So I think I’ve got it: Wapping is the Battery Park City of London.

Yesterday it was rainy and wet and cold, so I decided to do nothing instead of crossing something else off my ever-growing list of things to do/see/taste/hear during my time here. But by “doing nothing” I only meant I would not leave Wapping. Of course, I did leave the apartment and had several things on my “agenda.” First Zumba, followed by a blog post, followed by some additional writing, followed by a proper exploration of my neighborhood.

See, I felt sorta bad that I’d been bad-mouthing Wapping without really exploring its twisty, turn-y cobblestone streets. On my first day here I attempted to do it, but it was snowy and freezing and I was so jetlag… Ever since, I’ve just been going the other direction. So umbrella in tow, I headed east on Wapping High Street. My first discovery was this, which actually faces west:

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Proper river walkway like the West Side Highway path in NYC, complete with bridge views.

Not a bad view, right? As I kept walking east, I discovered how truly similar this neighborhood is to Battery Park City: Beautiful condos, plus, amazing vistas of the river and, yes, far from public transport. It’s quiet and quaint, and in the spring, probably really lovely, just like BPC. I could see stopping to sit at one of those benches to read a book or the paper.

Continuing on…

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Call me immature, but I liked the paint job on this number.

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And then you have something super old school and proper.

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Lots of the buildings have terraces. Love the mix of rounded arches with the rectangular windows.

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Totally new warehouse-type loft. See the lamp and couch in the window?

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Check out the eerie rope hanging from this old pub down an alleyway. Otherwise, it’s super lush looking and there’s a huge garden on the side that overlooks the river.

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Taken my first few days here (hence the snow), there’s also a beautiful canal that runs through the area. Some lucky chaps live right on it!

Finally, I believe I failed to mention that I live super close to this:

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St. Katharine’s Docks

Another similarity to BPC as theres’ a big marina there too. I’m sure by now my parents are all like, “WHAT????! You live near a marina and didn’t say anything?!” I know. So silly. (For those who don’t know, I’ve grown up on boats my whole life. I can tie and untie a stern line, toss out an anchor and even steer the damn thing. I can’t, however, dock it myself.) Now, whenever I go to the tube I walk through the docks (St. Katharine’s, to be exact) and it becomes a way more pleasant stroll. It seems like some people even live on their boats, ahem yachts, year-round. Lucky them. There is nothing quite like the sound of water lapping against the bow at night.

All in all, it was a GREAT, fulfilling day considering I had set out to do “nothing.” I managed to finish going through all four papers and (some of) their supplements that I’ve narrowed my Sunday reading down to: The Sunday Times, including Style, Culture and the Sunday Times Mag, The Observer and The Observer Magazinethe Mail on Sunday and You Mag and Live Mag, and The Sun on on Sunday and Fabulous (obvi); I got a handle on the ‘hood and where the bus stops and overground stations are without having to use Google Maps; I stopped in and read the Mail at a cute coffee shop on High Street, and the Times at a pub by the docks. Finally, I came home to do some more writing, reading, Skyping, picture-uploading and cooking before settling in to watch the commercial-free (holla BBC!) BAFTA’s.

This week marks one month since I left NYC and I definitely feel more at home now that I’ve gone all Mr. Rogers and gotten to know my neighborhood. It was a semi-typical Sara Sunday of working out, reading, writing and watching telly, so I will therefore leave you with this:

It’s a neighborly day in this beautywood,
A neighborly day for a beauty,
Would you be mine?
Could you be mine?

 Thanks for reading, neighbor(s).

My apartment

After reading Ellie’s flat post, I could hear a collective whine all the way over here from my family friends: When is Sara going to post pics of HER apartment?

Call me a People Pleaser. Here goes it.

First, a preface: As you already know, I live in Way-the-F Wapping, which is in South East London, but north of the river. Unlike Ellie’s middle-of-Manhattan abode, it’s very quiet over here. You could seriously hear a pin drop in these parts. I am reminding you of this because in New York, location is everything. Case in point, a typical conversation with a real estate broker might go like this:

New Yorker: So, tell me about the apartment.

Real Estate Broker: Well, it doesn’t have a full fridge and may not be able to fit a couch, but it’s a stone’s throw from the Spotted Pig and Kingswood.

New Yorker: What floor is it on?

Real Estate Broker: The fifth — and there’s no elevator. But you get TONS of light. (This really is a plus.)

New Yorker: What about closets? How many?

Real Estate: Hmm. Well, there aren’t any. BUT the A/C/E, B/D/F, L and 1/2/3 trains are RIGHT nearby, as is the Highline, Washington Square Park and Bleecker Street.

New Yorker: Sounds like a STEAL. I’ll take it!

So I’ve traded location for space. LOTS of it. I’ve got a TWO bedroom all to myself on the FIRST floor. There’s an elevator and I take it sometimes just because I can. There’s no fancy gym, which is unfortunate for my growing gut. And while I do have a terrace, I’m afraid it’s about 10 feet off the ground, so there’s really not much point in standing on it. Plus, it’s winter. I do miss hard wood floors, as I’m not such a fan of carpeting. But at least I can walk around barefoot! Another plus? I’m a stone’s throw from work. Literally. You could actually throw a stone and hit the office. So on days like today when I forgot my phone and need to change my shoes because they’re squishing my toes, I can just pop back over!

From the outside...

From the outside…

The living room -- notice the (rare) light streaming through. Score!

The living room: Notice the (rare) light streaming through — score! — and the ancient TV. It may look flat, but baby got back!

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The kitchen, complete with washer/dryer and cute towels from work!

This is where I sit a lot and write/google/facebook/skype. Take note of how similar my glass table is to Ellie's!

This is where I sit a lot and write/google/facebook/skype. Take note of how similar my glass table is to Ellie’s!

The place needed some character, so I went to Spitalfields and bought a few matted Banksy photos, which I’ve hung around a lovely Buddah-esque canvas. Funny story about the Buddah canvas: It was actually in the lobby of my building, but I preferred it to the icky line drawing that was here, so I cheekily swapped them.

Artsy Banksy and a Buddah.

Artsy Banksy and a Buddah.

Ugly line drawing is now in the "lobby."

Line drawing is now in the lobby.

Over in my bedroom, I’ve got my own bathroom (!) and closets so big a collection of Hobbits could probably sleep in them. It saddens me that a good majority of my winter wardrobe is stuffed into a storage space near the West Side Highway back in Manhattan, while one entire side of these double-doored closets sits completely empty.

Big closet!

“Fill me, Sara, fill me!”

My super comfy bed (notice the new throw!) and my attempt to glam things up with more Banksy art and a scarf disguised as a bench cover.

My super comfy bed (notice the new throw!) and my attempt to glam things up with more Banksy art and a scarf disguised as a bench cover.

Another attempt to Sarify the space: Hung my bracelets on a scarf and my necklaces on the wall.

Another attempt to Sarify the space: Hung my bracelets on a scarf, my necklaces on the wall and photos of family around the mirror.

There's also a patio with a BBQ, which could be nice in spring. Right now, it's super dirty and dark out there.

There’s also a patio with a BBQ, which could be nice in spring. Right now, it’s a bit dirty and dark out there.

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To remind me of home…and my friends.

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“Now I lay me down to sleep…” my NYC snowglobe, notes from pals and “The Happiness Project,” which I will happily finish reading…someday.

The other bedroom looks pretty much the same (sans patio) AND there’s another bathroom, which I rarely use.

It may not be Notting Hill or hipster enclave Shoreditch, but what it lacks in location, it makes up for in comfy-cozy spaciousness — a lovely treat. Plus, I’M LIVING IN LONDON!