London Conversations
You want to be a traveler instead of a tourist? Simple.
Stop reading the signs, snapping the photos, then climbing back on the
bus. Talk to people. Ok whiners, I know what you’re thinking. I don’t speak the language. I might make a mistake and say something
awful. What the hay! You may already say awful things in
English. But, wait a sec, they speak English
in London and it’s definitely more gooder English than most Mericans speak.
So, cheer up and speak up!
I’ll give you some examples:
David (barber at Trufitt & Hill, the world’s oldest barber shop)
As everybody knows, having your hair cut draws out conversation
with every snip of the scissors.
“You’ve got a job ahead of you, David. This is my unfashionable shaggy look.”
“I’ll soon have you looking like a gentleman.”
“My wife will be surprised, but I like an ambitious man. By
the way, I’ve found a way to regrow hair.”
“Really?”
“So far it only works on ears and eyebrows.” David chuckles.
I’m attracted to people who laugh at my jokes.
There follows a short exchange of how I want my hair cut.
“Like yours, David.”
Michael had cut my hair on previous occasions and turns out
that’s who cuts David’s hair. Small
barbershop ain’t it.
“How long are you in London? Where are you from in the
States?”
Which swings the conversation doors wide open.
“Taking in three musicals,” I say. Which leads to finding out David’s not just
excellent with the scissors, but is also a singer and has his own cabaret
troupe. Which led to dancers and singers
as athletes.
“Matter of fact, we singers refer to ourselves as vocal
athletes. Takes hours of daily practice
to get your voice to do what you want it to do.”
Don't doubt it. I
often have trouble getting my lips move in the right order.
David is also a philosopher:
“Our lives are formed by our mistakes.” Fortunately, he wasn’t talking
about my haircut.
Then he talked about his hometown, Bristol. “It’s a great city and so much to see and
do. Been there?”
“No, haven’t had the pleasure, but one of my favorite
authors, Derek Robinson is from there.”
Haircut over and perfectly done, I struck up a conversation
with Poppy, a bright young woman who offers the potions and lotions at the
front of the shop. She’s also a singer
in David’s troupe.
My purchases complete it’s time for some light shopping and
some thirst quenching refreshment.
(More links to my blogs on Truefitt & Hill at the bottom of the page.)
Veronica (barkeep at 45 Jermyn Street) pronounced German Street
As with all the other barkeepers at 45 Jermyn Street, Veronica knows her stuff. We ordered coffee and when we also requested
an Armagnac, she smiled and quickly produced a bottle of exquisite, ten year
old Baron de Sigognac. That it was
before noon raised not one eyebrow, but which began our conversation. She’s Italian and Italians never blink twice
at the chance for alcohol. We moved on
to travels and why she came to England.
“I like to travel. I’ve also
lived in Brazil and Columbia, plus I’m half Korean.”
Italian-Korean? She
laughed. “Crazy! You know how Italians
are so emotional, with hugs and kisses?
When I go to visit my grandfather in Korea, he has no idea what to do
when I rush up and hug him and kiss him on the cheek!” She laughs again.
Veronica has lived so many places! So does she speak a bunch
of languages? Yes. In addition to her
native Italian: Portuguese, Spanish, and
English. How about Korean? “No.”
Now I’m fascinated with a young adventurous woman and
fearless traveler. “Lived anywhere
else?”
“Germany, but I don’t speak German. It’s too hard!”
By this time, she was making other drinks and I watched her
concoct a Bloody Mary.
“First you need some really good tomato juice.”
Made with fresh tomatoes?
“We tried it with fresh tomatoes, but the flavor wasn’t
intense; we use a quality juice and add a blend of spices and cream of
horseradish.”
I’ve had one of their Bloody Marys. It’s well balanced,
intense and sensational. You remember the spice, but it doesn’t deaden your
tongue.
Then the 45 Jermyn
Street’s general manager (another David) arrived with a complimentary plate
of melt-in-your-mouth chocolates, both dark and white, filled with raspberry
cream, hazelnut caramel, and dark mousse.
He saw us drinking coffee and Armagnac and wanted to help us ease into
the rest of the day. “Enjoy,” he said,
and we followed his instructions to the letter.
By the way, David is also Italian!
Then the maître d’ floated over to congratulate us on our libation
choices. Yes, we will come back here,
every chance we get.
(More links to my blogs about 45 Jermyn Street at the bottom of the page)
Jane (clerk at Jo Malone, Covent Garden)
Being a man, I don’t expect anything more than a perfunctory
‘Hello’ at a perfume emporium. But, Jane
is the kind of woman that wants to chat and you immediately want to chat
with. She’s smiling, cheerful, and
brimming with information, both product and background.
“So, is there a real Jo Malone, or is that just a brand
name?”
She explains, ”She’s real!
Jo Malone began making lotions in her kitchen and giving them to friends
as presents. Then friends told friends
and the business grew. Now, as you may
know, the brand is owned by Estée Lauder.
Jo Malone had breast cancer and needed to slow down, so she sold it in
1999. Now she’s started another company,
Jo Loves.”
“Are there fragrances for me?”
“Originally, Jo Malone’s idea was to create unisex fragrances
and that’s still mostly true, but now some of the fragrances have a more
masculine scent.”
The things you learn when your wife wants/needs some more Jo
Malone Red Roses lotion.
Alina (at the Caffé Concerto on Piccadilly)
Alina is from Romania (Romanian is another romance
language). By the way, she speaks
perfect English.
“So, was English difficult to learn?”
“It took me a long time.”
Can’t tell if that’s a groan or a wince, but whatever, it looks fetching
on her.
“So now you don’t care if someone speaks Romanian or English
to you?”
She smiles (and it’s a gorgeous smile!). “No, makes no
difference to me.”
Lanja (a waitress at Strada, a restaurant at the Heathrow Airport)
Lanja is from Iraq and her English is also perfect, as is her
cheery disposition. “So how long have
you been here?”
Another wonderful smile. “I’ve been here twenty-two years.” Either she’s discovered the secret of eternal
youth, or she got here when she was still an egg.
She seems disappointed
that neither of us finished the delicious linguine Bolognese. “You didn’t like the food?”
“We did, but it was too much. Our stomachs are too small.”
Lanja waves a dismissive hand and smiles again. “Your stomach
isn’t as small as mine.”
Show me yours first.
She’s right. I’d be
surprised if she weighs a hundred pounds (about 45 kilos or 7 stone). The Brits
lead the world in obtuse ways of measuring weights and distances. “I carried ten stone for a hundred
furlongs. Took me a fortnight.” Could you give that to me in rods?
For your edification:
1 stone = 14 pounds.
1 kilo = 2.2 pounds.
1 furlong = 1/8 Mile, 660 feet, 40 rods, or 10 chains.
1 fortnight = 2 weeks
1 rod = 5.5 yards
Ok, with the kilos you caught me. A kilo is really 2.20462
pounds, so go ahead and work that out in your head.
But, let’s pick up our instruments and get back to the
music. When it comes to travel, it’s the
people you meet that leave the most lasting impressions. Sure you can remember what la Tour Eifel
looks like, but what does it mean to a Frenchman? What does he think about Americans? What are
people like in Germany or Belgium or Japan?
Everybody has a story and if you ask and listen, you’ll find
out more about a country than ever gets in a travel book.
So, here’s a thumbnail guide on how to travel: First you get a haircut, then find a nice
spot for coffee and Armagnac. After that
you’re on your own.
Links to other times I've written about Truefitt & Hill, and 45 Jermyn Street.
