Casey returns to London...for a third Thanksgiving in the UK

What a fun week it was with my dear, ol' friend, Casey! She's been to London plenty o' times before, of course, even living here for half a year for work. Lucky thing, too, as I'm geographically so challenged that her sense of direction was priceless throughout the week, as was her good luck on the work front! Interestingly enough, this would be the third Turkey Day in London for both of us.

Casey arrived on Tuesday afternoon, where I met her at the Colliwood tube station. We hoofed it back the few blocks to my flat and got her a bit settled in, as a GNO (Girls' Night Out, of course) awaited us that evening -- which would surely require some energy.

After popping into the Berry Shoppe (er, Sainsbury's) and then to M&S, we decided on a light lunch and picked up some cheese, crackers, and lil' meats plus some red wine. After having a little picnic in my front room, Casey took a quick catnap and prepped for the evening, where we first met up with Steve at the Tup before bussing on over to Suburban in Wimbledon for GNO with Kerry-Ann, Mel, and Cheryl-Ann.

As is always the case, both the conversation and drinks flowed freely for GNO. I'm oh-so-lucky to know these girls; they're just so sweet and fun! After a bit at Suburban, we decided to move our night to someplace a tiny bit quieter, where we could better engage in conversation. Next stop? The Terrace, a quick walk 'round the corner.

The Terrace is a pretty cocktail lounge-y place, with -- you guessed it -- a terrace that overlooks the High Street. There were some drinks on special but I won't even repeat the names -- yikes! However, we skipped those in lieu of the infamous Pimms and lemonade...which we had to send back twice. (The first: they used seltzer rather than lemonade; The second: there was no booze in the drinks; The third: ahh...perfection. Yum!)

After our English-y drink, Kerry-Ann picked up a bottle of Veuve Clicquot to celebrate her new job. Hooray, Kerry-Ann! Talk about good news! She'd arrived in London about two weeks before me, and well understands the frustration of not having a job. Thus, I was particularly pleased to hear about her accomplishment. Rock on, girl!

Some other highlights of the week...

Casey and I stopped at the V&A to see the fashion wing collection, and smiled over the period dresses and threads of the day. ("I could see myself wearing that. A-lines are always a good shape...")

We had a faux-Mexican dinner at Wahaca in Covent Garden (yes, it's purposely a bad spelling of Oaxaca, which bugs me). Meh...definitely not the good "dirty Mexican" (as Casey called it) that I enjoy. In fact, to quote Casey's Facebook status update we'd "had a Mexican Thanksgiving this year that wasn't up to Andrea's standards, I will give her that for so many years in the south!" I'll probably not be back 'round and instead will try some of the other places that the ex-pats suggested.

Another slight dining disappointment was the Thai place we tried on Friday afternoon, Busaba Eathai, in Soho. Now, I'm no Thai food expert, but I was looking forward to my favorite pad si ew dish. However, the one on the menu was seafood-loaded -- ick. "I'd like the pad si ew, please, but without seafood, take out the prawn, squid, and scallop, and add beef." This is a simple request; I've done it before without hassle. Nope, not this time. They refused to accommodate. To add insult to injury, the manager later came over and said, "I heard you were upset that we wouldn't substitute. That's because the chef has made the recipe to go with the seafood as-is."
"That's fine," I replied, "I just simply won't return." At this point, I almost wanted to stick my tongue out at him like a five-year-old, but I'm proud to say I held back...much to Casey's relief, I'm sure. Really, though, if you're not coming over to my table to make me happy, don't bother coming over at all. And if a chef can't substitute seafood for beef in such a simple dish, he's not much of a chef in my book. Meh.

Casey and I met up with her very fun London co-worker, Annette, one evening. Annette is actually Irish; she works in the London office. We crossed the bridge and walked down to the Horniman at Hays, which was awfully quaint and a "proper pub," as the English folks would say. When Casey advised she'd have a cider, Annette looked at her strangely and said, "You do realise that's a knackers drink..?" Ah, yet another new term. Apparently, that's akin to a drink in a brown bag, something typically assigned to those less fortunate...(winks)

We also picked up tickets to see the Swingin' 60s London photography exhibit at the National Portrait Gallery, From Beatles to Bowie, which was absolutely phenom. Of course, neither Casey nor I knew all of the artists that were highlighted.
"Who's Cliff Richard? Was he a big back deal then?" I asked Casey.
"I've no idea, but I do know that the ex's grandmother absolutely loved his Christmas album..."
We also realised that afternoon that Casey and I both have a thing for English boys...though we may well be rather alone in that generalisation. ("It's just you and me on that, sister!" hehe)

Afterward, we went to the infamous Lamb and Flag in Soho, one of the oldest pubs in London, for a quick drink and a break on our lil' worn-out tootsies, particularly after our successful quest through the bookshops in Charing Cross on the hunt for the impossible-to-find Middleditch book, The London Mapguide. Hooray! I got it! It's a great book, and shows the tube lines, the bus lines, and points of interest, including good ol' pubs and restaurants, plus museums and the like...sorta like a mini A-Zed.

One evening, we wandered up to my fave haunt, Gordon's wine bar, where we sat outside in the chilly night air, talking about everything from careers, to boys, to cities and moves. What a lovely evening. We then moved up the way, after meeting up with Steve, to The Coal Hole. What an interesting place. Casey thought of it as a bit of an "old man's pub," so we hung outside for a bit, trying to decide our next move...In the middle of our debate of next stops, we realised that some guy was stealthily snapping our pic. Um...ok, that was a bit odd. I just chalked it up to the fact that we're oh-so-celeb looking that he just had to capture the image. (winks) I almost wonder if his pics came out better than mine, which is surely the case. Even with a point-and-click camera, I'm rubbish at taking non-fuzzy photos. Sigh...We all have our crosses to bear, I suppose.

We moved up to The International for a proper Pimms and lemonade (no need to send 'em back this time!), where Steve and I witnessed some crazy drunk girl outside, yelling at the bouncer. The weird thing? The boyfriend half-heartedly tried to hold her back, but wouldn't remove her from the scene. How very odd. "Whew," I told Steve, "I can guarantee you'd never see me like that." It's never attractive to be the drunk girl...I wish more young ladettes would realise this. Indeed.

Casey and I did quite a bit of window shopping during her visit. It only served to remind me just how much I want a job. ("Ugh -- Look at how cute those shoes are! I have to find a job...stat!") We walked down Regent and Oxford Streets, stopping at pricey department stores like Selfridges and boutique-y shops which displayed items that I can only right now dream of affording.

Sadly, the weather wasn't as pleasant as one would've hoped for an out-of-towner's visit. Sunday, for example, was not only bitterly cold and windy, but with a near-torrential downpour. Good times. Nonetheless, we trudged on and walked down 'round Casey's old 'hood, through Butler's Wharf and the picturesque Shad Thames, which is as old world London as one can get.

We endured the rain for as long as we could until, looking like little drowned rats, we hailed a cab to drive us across my Tower Bridge to Gordon's for Sunday roast. As we exited the cab, the driver said, "Good for you girls, braving this weather. Well done!" (giggle)

We had a yummy roast dinner in the dark cave-like room at Gordon's, the table tilted so much that we feared our gravy would wind up dripping down the table into Casey's lap. Good times.

It was such a fun time, spent with one of my oldest and dearest hometown friends. My flat seemed so boring and empty upon Casey's departure. Now all I can do is open the invite to everyone else..! Anyone want a free place to stay in Londres? (winks)

Next up? My family visit for Christmas. I'm oh-so-excited, I can barely contain myself. We've already scheduled Handel's Messiah at St. Martin in the Fields and a few other ideas. If anyone has suggestions for must-dos during Christmas week in London, let me know!

As a p.s., it seems that Casey was a bit of luck on the job front. I have my first contract job, beginning January 5 with the NHS. How perfect! Although just a two-month gig, I'm so excited for the challenge at hand and the cool folks with whom I'll be working. Hooray!