They're Here!

4 June 2008
London

They arrived half an hour early, both looking well, and brought the Californian sun with them. A few pictures of the jet-setters, who were so hip and happening that they were slightly out of focus.



Here they are outside my front door, after our taxi ride home, which they were horrified about taking until I told them it would save about half an hour travel time (and that I would pay!) Our African taxi driver thought we were all very funny.



And having lunch, which I made, despite Mum's protestations that she wanted to help.



Overall, they're in fine form, and very complimentary about the house, which is nice - it's good being able to show it off to family at last, and even nicer being able to host them in my own place :-). Tonight we went on a Big Adventure after dinner - a walk to the tube station and back, to check out my neighbourhood, the five supermarkets and food stores within walking distance of my house (food is important, as you will see when you see pictures of my potbelly) and a quick stroll across Clapham Common.

Even in the relatively suburban and laid-back Clapham, their eyes are still rolling in the backs of their heads at the number of people of different shapes and colours, the speed of the buses and the general glamour of city life. As we were walking through the Common, a trashy looking girl in pink faux suede ankle boots walked past us screaming "Get away from me, you rapist!" at a guy following behind, and Mum just about had a stroke. It was a great "Welcome to London" moment.

I won't steal their thunder too much, but it sounds as though they had fun in LA, despite spending most of the time in the Marriott Hotel complex. They report that Californians are very friendly, but physically enormous, and that American food portions are also enormous (funny how those two go together), resulting in only having to eat twice a day. Horrified at all the fried crap they were being served for breakfast, they requested "Tea and toast", which somehow, someone made for them.

Mum made a new friend of the Immigration passport inspector at LAX, when she told him sympathetically that he looked tired. In response, it sounds like he either burst into tears with gratitude that someone gave a damn, or told them his life story. (Knowing Americans, probably both). You can just imagine Mum being sweet and motherly to some grumpy-looking Customs official who everyone else either ignores or treats like crap, can't you? It's very endearing, and very Maureen. Perhaps we could use this to our advantage and use her as our front man for some arms smuggling operations during our travels.

The upside of having Mum and Dad here is that Mum almost immediately wants to start waiting on me and cleaning up afterwards. After originally getting tetchy and territorial, like a cat peeing on its share of front lawn, I began to see that this might be a great arrangement. The downside is that, being old people, they go to bed really early, which means I either have to go to bed early too, or creep around the house silently with all the lights off like a teenager trying to sneak out of the house. I'm now in bed typing (in the spare room, as I've given them my larger and more comfortable bedroom) and I can hear them gently snoring through the walls like water buffaloes. Watch this space.