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ventaI'm now just starting my fourth week in the new job. And despite the idea of a 45-minute Tube journey every morning being some people's idea of hell, I'm loving working in central London.
Of course, you have to take it in context. I've swapped a 90-minte commute for one which is considerably simpler and half the length (and involves getting rained on a lot less days like today). I concede that the Central line in the evenings is a bit of a bugger, and on a few days I've been transported in conditions that would very likely be illegal if I were a sheep.
Every office I've worked in in Reading has been on an out-of-town business park of some kind. Some were concrete-y and hideous (I'm looking at you, Suttons). Green Park was pretty and landscaped and had a cafe, but was a very long way from anything resembling a shop. The most recent one, on the university campus, did have the luxury of pubs within walking distance, and access to the campus shops and cafes. One could, at least, post a letter with only a twenty-minute or so round trip (walking) from the office.
In my first week of work I went out for a stroll at lunchtime. I didn't go far, basically just round the block for twenty minutes or so, learning my environment. I saw five blue plaques and the British Museum. You don't get that in Reading :)
My working life has always revolved around the Friday lunchtime pub trip; this does not appear to be A Thing in my new office[*]. However, I decided I'd not take lunch on Fridays, but would pop out and buy myself a treat. Because it turns out High Holborn has a lot of nice cafes. Mostly chains, admittedly, but there's a big variety of appealing-looking food. Right on my doorstep. Last week I bought a fancy-looking seeded baguette stuffed with Vietnamese pulled pork... and at £3.75 it was cheaper (and nicer) than many of sandwiches at the cafe below the most recent Reading office.
Last week, I wanted to post a Christmas card to Germany, which necessitated finding an actual Post Office. Quite often that, for me, has been a thing not achievable in a lunchtime without a car. A quick look at the PO website, down the stairs, three doors along the road: Post Office. Sorted and back at my desk in under ten minutes (it would have been under five, but there was industrial action and Christmas and a queue).
Disappointingly, my nearest HSBC doesn't have one of the coin-counting machines that are a godsend to anyone with a bucket of shrapnel. Where was the nearest one that did, I asked a member of staff. Fleet street. A quick check at Mr Google's Cartographical House of Wonders, and I was off... down High Holborn, right onto Chancery Lane, left onto Fleet Street, cross Fetter Lane and you're there. I've always loved the sense of time in London, of walking down roads that I've met in history lessons, places whose names were already old when London burned down. It delights me that such places are so close, and something I'll encounter in day-to-day life.
And London, it turns out, is full of people. At the end of my first week I went to a meeting in Victoria Embankment, and almost literally bumped into an old school friend as I left the lift[**]. Strolling up from the Tube the following week I found myself tailing![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
owdbetts. And today I bounded out of my office at 12 and went to a very nearby pancake restaurant where I found lathany. Admittedly, the last one was premeditated, but even so: there are people just, like, about. Just waiting to be inveigled into cafes and pubs.
[*] Give me time. I've only just started.
[**] And becausemarjory, if she's reading, will want to know who: Emma P.
Of course, you have to take it in context. I've swapped a 90-minte commute for one which is considerably simpler and half the length (and involves getting rained on a lot less days like today). I concede that the Central line in the evenings is a bit of a bugger, and on a few days I've been transported in conditions that would very likely be illegal if I were a sheep.
Every office I've worked in in Reading has been on an out-of-town business park of some kind. Some were concrete-y and hideous (I'm looking at you, Suttons). Green Park was pretty and landscaped and had a cafe, but was a very long way from anything resembling a shop. The most recent one, on the university campus, did have the luxury of pubs within walking distance, and access to the campus shops and cafes. One could, at least, post a letter with only a twenty-minute or so round trip (walking) from the office.
In my first week of work I went out for a stroll at lunchtime. I didn't go far, basically just round the block for twenty minutes or so, learning my environment. I saw five blue plaques and the British Museum. You don't get that in Reading :)
My working life has always revolved around the Friday lunchtime pub trip; this does not appear to be A Thing in my new office[*]. However, I decided I'd not take lunch on Fridays, but would pop out and buy myself a treat. Because it turns out High Holborn has a lot of nice cafes. Mostly chains, admittedly, but there's a big variety of appealing-looking food. Right on my doorstep. Last week I bought a fancy-looking seeded baguette stuffed with Vietnamese pulled pork... and at £3.75 it was cheaper (and nicer) than many of sandwiches at the cafe below the most recent Reading office.
Last week, I wanted to post a Christmas card to Germany, which necessitated finding an actual Post Office. Quite often that, for me, has been a thing not achievable in a lunchtime without a car. A quick look at the PO website, down the stairs, three doors along the road: Post Office. Sorted and back at my desk in under ten minutes (it would have been under five, but there was industrial action and Christmas and a queue).
Disappointingly, my nearest HSBC doesn't have one of the coin-counting machines that are a godsend to anyone with a bucket of shrapnel. Where was the nearest one that did, I asked a member of staff. Fleet street. A quick check at Mr Google's Cartographical House of Wonders, and I was off... down High Holborn, right onto Chancery Lane, left onto Fleet Street, cross Fetter Lane and you're there. I've always loved the sense of time in London, of walking down roads that I've met in history lessons, places whose names were already old when London burned down. It delights me that such places are so close, and something I'll encounter in day-to-day life.
And London, it turns out, is full of people. At the end of my first week I went to a meeting in Victoria Embankment, and almost literally bumped into an old school friend as I left the lift[**]. Strolling up from the Tube the following week I found myself tailing
owdbetts. And today I bounded out of my office at 12 and went to a very nearby pancake restaurant where I found lathany. Admittedly, the last one was premeditated, but even so: there are people just, like, about. Just waiting to be inveigled into cafes and pubs. [*] Give me time. I've only just started.
[**] And because
marjory, if she's reading, will want to know who: Emma P.
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no subject
Date: 2013-12-16 11:39 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-12-18 07:35 am (UTC)(But it would be nice to do a post-work drink sometime!)