The Subways of London
Today being the first day of international students' orientation at the school (which turned out to be rather optional), I planned to get over to Bayswater to the office of the letting agent from last night, put down the hold money, and bust back to school for the morning sessions. Knowing that there might a bit of a cash flow issue going on, I started out early, walking down Euston Road and hitting every ATM machine along the way. At least half a dozen refused me, with a message on the screen saying that my bank would not allow the transaction. Finally, outside the Euston rail station, I scrounged 100 pounds out of one - better than total denial, but not enough for the 165 pounds I needed to give the letting agent. I tried a couple more machines to no avail. Finally, I tried an ATM inside the station. The first two times I got a message saying that my bank refused the transaction. I tried once more. Same message. I swore under my breath (ok, not entirely under my breath!), grabbed the card, and headed down the escalator into the tube station.
Down several flights, on the platform level, I was trying to figure out how to get the ticket I needed to Bayswater, when a young man in a casual suit walked up behind me, excused himself, and said he believed what he had in his hand belonged to me. It was a wad of cash and a receipt - 70 pounds, about $120. I was speechless. And then I gushed about two dozen thank-yous (I think I even used a phrase like, "Bless you for doing this," gak!) before he finally smiled and walked away. The ATM machine must have spit out the cash desp5te the message to the contrary, and he must have followed me all the way down the escalators and around several corners to catch up. I was still in disbelief as I got my ticket together, passed through the gates, and continued toward the platform, where a man was belting out a rendition of "All You Need Is Love" on a saxophone. I smiled and thought: wow, I guess I'm in London. And somewhere, tonight, in London, there is a young man with glowing karma. I wish I could thank him again.
At the letting agent's office, I ran into a Czech couple I'd seen the night before at the building; they were there for the same reason I was. We chatted for most of an hour, waiting for the office staff, who were rather late. So much for the orientation program - this seemed more important to get taken care of. When I finally spoke with them in more detail, I ended up taking a slightly more pricey room. This is going to kill my budget, but I think it will be worth it for a full kitchen inside the unit, as well as getting off the ground floor where the smallest unit is. The larger room doesn't have a bathroom inside, but it was pointed out to me by my well-traveled father that sometimes, in these old buildings, there's no disadvantage to having a little distance between your room and your aged toilet. That probably wouldn't be a problem in this newly refurbished building, but that also means that more of the room is dedicated to living space, with the bathroom not counted in the square footage of the studio itself. I was short a few pounds with the higher price, but the agents took what I had for the hold, and - satisfied that I was no longer homeless - I finally headed back to school in time to catch a rather amusing presentation on street safety by a local police officer who appears to have taken a clue from Monty Python.
The rest of the day was uneventful except for ongoing ruminations on just how I was going to pull together the cash to actually get into the place, which was solved by arranging to meet with the student affairs coordinator on Monday to get an advance on my very delayed financial aid check. Which, you guessed it, has to be cashed back in the states, which will take an estimated 3-5 weeks even after signing it over to the school. What I'm going to live on in the mean while will be an interesting question, though long gone are the days when intrepid travelers like Hemingway made their way by pinching pigeons from Parisian parks to fill their stomachs: like any savvy modern traveler, I have Mastercard.
In the meanwhile, I am ashamed to admit that I have been eating an ungodly number of meals at the local Subway sandwich franchise, partly because I can get half a sandwich for 1.80 pounds, and partly because they're the cheapest eatery around that takes credit cards. Walking for miles every day and eating Subway...didn't someone famous lose, like, 200 pounds doing that?!
Down several flights, on the platform level, I was trying to figure out how to get the ticket I needed to Bayswater, when a young man in a casual suit walked up behind me, excused himself, and said he believed what he had in his hand belonged to me. It was a wad of cash and a receipt - 70 pounds, about $120. I was speechless. And then I gushed about two dozen thank-yous (I think I even used a phrase like, "Bless you for doing this," gak!) before he finally smiled and walked away. The ATM machine must have spit out the cash desp5te the message to the contrary, and he must have followed me all the way down the escalators and around several corners to catch up. I was still in disbelief as I got my ticket together, passed through the gates, and continued toward the platform, where a man was belting out a rendition of "All You Need Is Love" on a saxophone. I smiled and thought: wow, I guess I'm in London. And somewhere, tonight, in London, there is a young man with glowing karma. I wish I could thank him again.
At the letting agent's office, I ran into a Czech couple I'd seen the night before at the building; they were there for the same reason I was. We chatted for most of an hour, waiting for the office staff, who were rather late. So much for the orientation program - this seemed more important to get taken care of. When I finally spoke with them in more detail, I ended up taking a slightly more pricey room. This is going to kill my budget, but I think it will be worth it for a full kitchen inside the unit, as well as getting off the ground floor where the smallest unit is. The larger room doesn't have a bathroom inside, but it was pointed out to me by my well-traveled father that sometimes, in these old buildings, there's no disadvantage to having a little distance between your room and your aged toilet. That probably wouldn't be a problem in this newly refurbished building, but that also means that more of the room is dedicated to living space, with the bathroom not counted in the square footage of the studio itself. I was short a few pounds with the higher price, but the agents took what I had for the hold, and - satisfied that I was no longer homeless - I finally headed back to school in time to catch a rather amusing presentation on street safety by a local police officer who appears to have taken a clue from Monty Python.
The rest of the day was uneventful except for ongoing ruminations on just how I was going to pull together the cash to actually get into the place, which was solved by arranging to meet with the student affairs coordinator on Monday to get an advance on my very delayed financial aid check. Which, you guessed it, has to be cashed back in the states, which will take an estimated 3-5 weeks even after signing it over to the school. What I'm going to live on in the mean while will be an interesting question, though long gone are the days when intrepid travelers like Hemingway made their way by pinching pigeons from Parisian parks to fill their stomachs: like any savvy modern traveler, I have Mastercard.
In the meanwhile, I am ashamed to admit that I have been eating an ungodly number of meals at the local Subway sandwich franchise, partly because I can get half a sandwich for 1.80 pounds, and partly because they're the cheapest eatery around that takes credit cards. Walking for miles every day and eating Subway...didn't someone famous lose, like, 200 pounds doing that?!
posted by skylanda at 8:54 PM
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