If you've ever...

Lived in London. Visited London. Travelled the World. Lived in Australia. Visited Australia. Even longed to live in either lands. Fell in love. Nursed a broken heart. Tried to make sense of your 20s. Or if you enjoy an entertaining read, then this content has your name all over it! 

Wednesday, December 16, 2009

What 5.30pm Feels Like

It's 5.30pm and the crickets are competing with my neighbour's lawnmower for control of the air waves. You know you're in Queensland when the still, summer ambience is pierced by the trembling, rumbling sounds of old mate next door's Victa. It reminds me of afternoons of making mud pies in our backyard, while the dogs barked at tiny feet pounding on the trampoline.

An annoying sound to a newcomer, but it's strangely homely to me, I must admit.

I think my housemates and I first noticed the lack of the 5.30pm grass-cutting activity in London a few months in to our stay. You know in between a bottle of rosé out in the garden, peering up at the planes that dominate the skies every 30 seconds. But, back to the point, Londoners simply do not mow.

Unless your pad is out in the 'burbs somewhere like Streatham with some grass out back for the kids to play on. No, back gardens in London are made of concrete, decking, and/or pavers ... or in our case, a massive pond with a deflated soccer ball bobbing around instead of pretty goldfish. But the concrete city is largely appealing. True, London has some of the world's most stunning commons and Royal Parks. But away from these luscious green spaces, it's the flowers that take centre stage against white terraces. A splash of colour that screams for admiration against whites, greys, and blacks. Grass? No. But for me, roses have never looked as beautiful as the wild ones in our Clapham South garden.


  1. comment one - I now have you not only saying "old mate" but writing it... :)

  2. Just found you on 20somethings and wanted to say HI! HELLLO!

  3. Hey Chelsea! Thanks :)
    Hello right back to you