London.

I've just passed the fortnight mark in London now so I suppose I can start writing a little about how its been.

Photo on the right is of me and Sarah when we went out with Simon who was in town for a little while. Sarah was nice enough to let me stay on her sofa the first few days I was here, while Tim was in Poland.

I have had some success finding a place. Although it is still in Clapham Junction, its in the part that I have come to think of as the wrong side of the tracks. Literally, you take one exit out of Clapham and its a tacky but reasonable little shopping centre and a fairly normal street. The other side (literally across the rails) is somewhat dodgier, with gangs of happy slappers and Essex girls roaming the streets, looking for cheap thrills. I'm going to be staying in a converted pub in this area, which is home to about a dozen people of various nationalities, and looks like it should be fun. I probably could have gone for something a little more sensible...but I thought, I'm 25, how many other times (and I really hope there aren't too many) will I be able to stay in a place like this? It should be good for a few months at least. Hopefully I'll come out of it with a few 'He Died with a Falafel in his Hand' experiences. I move in this Wednesday.

At the moment I'm still at Tim's. He's lucky enough to have a great balcony on his top floor. Good spot to sit when the weather is nice or to watch the stars at night. At any one time there'll be at a half dozen aircraft coming and going through the sky. I also get a great view of the council flats that will soon be my neighbours. Luckily, the place I'm moving into has a roof that you can get up to via a rope ladder on the top floor. The guy who showed me around mentioned they are planning to attach a pulley to the chimney so as to be able to get a barbie going up there.

I've had a few quality English moments. Walked into a pub the other day full of Celtic supporters, had one enormous beetroot-faced fellow up on a table singing football songs. The guy and his huge red nose attempted conversation later on but I could not make out a single word he said. With a fifty year old matron behind the bar and the footy on TV it was pretty much what I expected. I love it when countries conform to stereotypes.

I have been exploring some South London areas over the past week while looking for a place to live. In many of the areas I feel like there is a real frustration or desperation, a bit of an air of violence. Its strange, because compared to India, people here have everything. The disparities in wealth are nothing in comparison...people will be living in a cardboard box in a slum with an empty stomach and the same country has more millionaires than anywhere else in the world. But you rarely see the same anger back in India.

I would like to be able to suggest why that is but I can't think of anything simple enough. Anyway, there is sometimes a bit of a sinister feel on some of the streets here, which can be a little unnerving.