Dear Nauseating Lovey Dovey

SEAN'S TRAVEL CHRONICLES: HALLOWEEN AND THE CITY OF TERROR.

Dear friend,

Have you ever been to the City of London? I have. It is a terrifying place. See, the thing is, that though I come from the slums of Leith originally, I am at heart, a posh Edinburgh boy.

It's true.

I have the voice, accent, attitude towards other cities, easy-life-idea of one. I am one. I am a posh Edinburgh boy without being posh. Large cities terrify me: they're just so FRICKEN HUGE. Also, they often feature the city plan of "grid". This is the worst part of all. Having only ever lived really in a city where every street is unique, when streets look the same I am completely confused. Even in Glasgow I get horrifically lost going down Buchanan Street after getting off the train/bus. I need to know exactly where I am to feel safe - none of this "Oh, I think I'm kind of over here in this kind of direction from the safety and warmth of all that is good and known in the world." 

I do not accept that. 

So imagine my absolute horror to be going to LONDON. The worst of them all. 

Me and Tom

So my Tomtom's mother is a very lovely woman, and I have met her the once when she came up to Edinburgh, albeit briefly; but Tom and I decided to go down to see her together and so he could show me his home (fraction of the) city. Initially the fear was terrible, but knowing that we would be there together and he knows pretty much everything there is to know about London since he is slightly sauvant about it all made it not so bad. I requested my first real time off work since May - joy joy joy. And BOOM. There you go. Tom gets a new job and he might not be able to come down with me. 

This is the point where you gasp in fright. 

So I am going to that godforsaken place on my own. We have the tickets and I have the time off work, and young-free-wants-to-see Sean decided that it would be a sad opportunity to miss. 

Wish me luck, and I shall keep you updated friend, in this godly feat that I shall be attempting.

Godspeed, innit bruv. 

P.S. I think I am going to come back speaking like that. Poplar bludd. 

P.P.S. If i do - kill me.