I've come home....unfortunately, the football hasn't...

I have been back in London for a week now, and I have to say, it has been amazing coming home to such beautiful hot weather!

Getting back whilst the World Cup is in full swing, meant that I also came home to a refreshing show of patriotism, with a sea of England flags adorning cars, homes, shops, bars and restaurants. I can't remember having seen so many St George's Crosses up, even in previous tournaments, and honestly I have enjoyed the show of support and pride for our country. Americans always seem to display a strong sense of unity, with what appears to be an imbedded patriotic gene present in all US nationals, but I feel as though it has become almost controversial to wave an English flag, with many people projecting a clear lack of faith in everything and everyone representing England, right from the start. With that sort of attitude, how can we be a unified country that thrives?


With that said, I went to watch the England vs. Germany match on Sunday, after a cocktail tasting at Dim Sum bar, The Drunken Monkey, in Shoreditch. A yummy selection of expertly made mojitos, margaritas and cosmopolitans (not to mention, the most delicious little fried chicken wings, ribs and chicken noodles) put us in good spirits ahead of the match, although everyone was already pretty smiley and happy on what was the hottest day of the year so far.




Unfortunately, we lost. The game was so exciting, frustrating and catastrophic that the only thing left to do was enjoy the rest of the sunshine and head to Hoxton Square, where we pooled our minimal resources and indulged in an afternoon of bubble-blowing and outdoor drinking, with a selection of Strongbow and Diamond White cider. Classy.




I was totally sprung by the bouncer at Hoxton Bar and Grill for going in to use their loos twice, although, rather than chastise me for using their facilities sneakily as a non-paying customer, he simply wanted me to 'admit' that, that was what I was doing. So I 'fessed up, and asked him if he would prefer the alternative of me peeing my pants in the park (he wouldn't).




After lazing in the sun, drinking our cider, and spending a fair amount of time watching a small child try (and fail) to blow bubbles with our bubble-blower, I jumped on the tube and headed to Archway to dance to some 1950s rock'n'roll at Hell Kittie Kittie.


This club night is held on the last Sunday of every month, at the Dusk Til Dawn tiki bar and runs from 7pm until around 2-3am. For a fiver, you gain entry, as well as a Sailor Jerry cocktail, and the great thing about this venue (especially in the summer) is that if you work up a sweat dancing, then you can cool off outside at the pub's large array of bench tables.


It was a little quiet this Sunday, but I still had fun and caught up with some friends, and, it was my first time out dancing since I've been back in London!

My journey home was powered by two nightbuses - one did not have many passengers and the other was completely empty, (apart from me and the driver) meaning that it was super speedy as we bypassed all the bus stops! Whoooooooooooooosssssshhhhhhh!

Football vs. Soccer...

So after much anticipation, the England vs. USA World Cup match took place on Saturday morning. My weeks of umm-ing and ahh-ing over where best to watch the game resulted in us taking a short walk in the glorious sunshine over to Mad Dog in the Fog in the lower Haight. As we approached the venue, the united voices of football fans singing along to 'Three Lions On A Shirt' (which was playing on loop) only served to heighten my excitement - the long queue outside the pub, on the other hand, did not.

So with an hour 'til kick off, we went and had breakfast, and I tried to sit still and eat my croissant and fruit salad before we headed to a nearby pub, where, although we were packed in like sardines, there was no line to wait in, and no cover charge.


Once inside I double fisted a couple of bottles of Magners and resigned myself to the fact that I would have to get used to the constant drone of 'U-S-A! U-S-A!' cheers. I don't know what it is about American football (not to be confused with American Football) fans, but I find them to be highly irritating. Maybe it's because their chants lack the wit and fun (and smuttiness) that you hear from the mouths of English footie fans, or maybe it's because post match you find yourself laying in the park, soaking up the sunshine, and a group of people walk past shouting 'U-S-A! U-S-A!' when they didn't even win the match (I sat up from my sunshine slumber in Dolores park to point this out to these imbeciles). Either way, I was seriously disappointed with the draw, as it was not the required result to get the people around me to shut up.

My disappointment soon subsided when I received these though:


And when I saw the slip'n'slide in Dolores:


EN-GER-LAND, EN-GER-LAND, EN-GER-LAAAAAAND!!!!!!