On the Fence at the Olympics

It’s not as crowded as you might expect. In fact, the crowds in non-Olympic London seem somewhat typical for the summer tourist season. But many of the high streets almost feel deserted. The venues and Olympic-themed sites are crowded, and the trains from those sites are certainly full, but the rest of London is calm and carrying on.

Olympics Medal for Heathrow

Have you ever arrived home on a late-night or early-morning flight, breezed through a deserted customs area, and awaited your bags in an cavernous baggage claims hall? Has it ever happened to you at London’s Heathrow Airport?

I’ve been through London’s Heathrow Airport several times. It’s always an experience. My first time was shortly before 9/11. I was rather taken aback when my passport was checked no less than five times before I boarded my flight home. Little did I know that just a few months later, Heathrow’s approach would become the new normal.

My Location-Independent Office

I’ve always been a big-desk person. Ever since high school, when I rejected the little girl’s desk in my bedroom for the lure of the dining room table, I’ve preferred to work on a large space. I also like lots of legroom. While my legs are pretty short, I’m a leg fidget. . . I poke them out in different directions, sit on them, prop them up—all difficult to do under a traditional desk. I also like having all my books, and notebooks, and various accoutrements at arms’ reach.

Getting to the Olympics

Whenever I tell people that I’m going to the London Olympics later this month, the reaction is, “Wow! How did you get tickets?”

My answer is rather disappointing (not unlike the simplistic “eat less and exercise more” when one asks how best to shed a few pounds): “I went online and I bought them.”

My Life as a Nomad Begins

I’m now just 18 days to departure. But I’m feeling pretty good about it (mentally, not physically). I’ve managed to vacate my apartment, with the help of loyal friends, my brother, and my dad’s mini-van. Five years ago, I vowed that I was far too old to be moving myself anymore—but the strange nature of my move made it difficult to hire professionals (it’s been going on in dribs and drabs for months). I had meant to write this post on Canada Day, but I was still moving—exhausted, and physically wrecked, but feeling free for the first time in months. And on the Canada Day holiday I had trouble finding the time to write between my naps.