My Spanish Life.

What’s this? A post? Surely not! But anyways, ahoy from Londontown. I arrived here yesterday in the fantastic (ahem, sarcasm) little airport that is Luton to be greeted with possibly the biggest line into a country I’ve ever seen, and that was for the EU Nationals. Surely, the rules are such that all they need to do is look at the passport and say “Welcome to England” and with a flourish of the hand wave you through. But apparently not. I thought about entering on my Australian passport due to the grand total of zero in that line, but then thought better of it.

Next stop was find the job. Boarding a train which set me back 15£ for a 30min journey, I headed into London City, and soon discovered that the place I’m working at is less than 10mins walk from the London eye, 15 from Westminster Abbey and 20 from Buckingham Palace. It shouldn’t be too hard to get a meeting with the Queen and Gordon Brown, then.
So I went for a wander and a drink last night up to Leicester Square… not quite a Plaza Mayor but not bad, and today I’ve been weighing up going to the Tate Modern or the British Museum. The Museum is winning at this point, if I could just find the Tube station.

I start work tomorrow, and it might be full on. There’s six teachers, 8 or 9 activity leaders and next week 200 odd Spanish, or French, or whatever, students between the ages of 16 and 30. But if they’re Spanish, at least I’ll have someone to watch the Spain v Germany Cup final tomorrow night.

Until next.