Along the canal

You hear the wheels of the five nice to fivers.
The darkness is awoken by the cycle bells.
A shadow appears in the lights for a brief moment,
catching the promess of your emptiness.
There is no one on the canal, just passengers. 

Cycling in London

First bike accident today. I was cycling towards a flat to visit in Hackney, feeling ok, hoping it was gonna be a nice place.

At one light, I was just turning left when I felt the pressure of a big black form coming from my right, it all happens real quick and you don't understand how is it even possible that someone does not realize you exist, you, the center of your own universe, means nothing to another person.

The turn was a bit tight for the van to pass between the pavement so he probably decided it was better to rush me to the left, even by making contact with me, the ant on wheels.

I stop as fast as possible, hurting my left ankle in the process and the side of his van twisted the axe of my right pedal. Under the shock of this, I just had the time to check his fucking car plate. Not being able to chase him because the accident made my bike chain derail.

I think the driver needed to pass quickly and realized in the turn that on his right side was the pavement and on the left something that could move more easily than concrete, so the choice was quick, pushing me towards my own pavement.

Look right, look left, and also be careful of fuckers in you back.
Fucking L.

A place for dogs

You understand that something is wrong in a city when the dogs have a better life than some of the humans that live and work there.

In London you see few homeless and many dogs walked by paid walkers in nice winter coats, green parks and following a strict healthy diet. 

When the money becomes so meaningless, give it to your dog rather than your brother, the dogs might smell better...

I hate this, fucking L. 

London Safari - De beauvoir estate.

Just saw a fox running after a cat. The little one jumped on the fence and saved his ass, for now.
In front of my window, in the main garden of de beauvoir estate.
Sometimes at night you hear the scream of a cat, or another animal, just being killed by a fox.
London's wild life.

I love this, watching the nature out of my shitty place in a shitty estate in a fucking city I don't really like.

De beauvoir estate is in a golden triangle, between Angel, Shoreditch and Dalston. But it's also in the middle of nowhere, it's an island.
It's the shittiest place in the best place. 

A bad barman makes a good...

Hi,

I hope 2016 is already a good year.

We haven’t met, so you already know who I might be.

First I thought of giving you some elements to show the writer, "worthy of your time" kind of applicant I am. Then I thought it would be boring to read on a friday. Seriously, who sends an application on a late friday afternoon...

Fact is, I’m already convinced by my skills, it’s not like I need to persuade somebody else about this to get a job right? I do?

Never mind, instead I decided to give you the reasons why I’m really not that good as a barman and a waiter.

That’s a better way for you to realize I’m so bad at these other jobs I must be a great creative writer.
I also master the “Digital world” as you may have noticed, with me starting to follow you on Twitter something like one hour before sending this application.

Smart eh? “D natives” they call us…

But you don’t care. No, the real interest is in my ridiculous experiences as working other gigs when I arrived in London one month ago while I was preparing this awesome application.

Act 1: English beers and "floaties".

First time I had an incident, as a waiter, was when a customer asked me if the pieces of seaweed inside her beer were supposed to be there. Being new in London, I told her it might be possible.
Well it was not.

Act 2: A barman is supposed to be confident

I really have no idea how to make cocktails and be a “cool” friendly bartender.
The last time I worked in that bar and went to tables asking “Do you need anything else?” “Can I take your glasses?” people seemed truly scared as if my face was yelling at them “I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT I’M DOING RIGHT NOW!!!”

Starting your trial shift by having a sample of every draught beer available in the bar before doing your work is not the best way to be efficient. Or is it?
The manager was nice though.

I’m hard working, funny and fast when it comes to get good ideas and pitch, not so much when it comes to pour alcohol in glasses with a huge crowd around me.

Let’s have a chat and talk about us, vacancies and movies.

I’ll bring beers, in bottles. That I can handle.

Kindest regards.

Move at the light

You know what annoys me the most in London, for now.

The stop lights. This is ridiculous.
London is supposed to be a big city, where people move, and are stressed and everything is fast and at the stop lights, nobody moves.
Fuck.
Really ?
The guy in the car doesn't move, I don't, the girl next to me doesn't, and so is the other car on the opposite side. It's like a frozen time and we all look silly.

So everyone is still for 10 seconds. And nothing happens.
Sometimes as a pissed off foreigner, preferably french, I'm so pissed I try to cross the street... and that's the moment a vehicle appears from nowhere and you step back.
Looking even sillier.

But when you do cross at the red light, oh boy, english people whispers...
"He's a foreigner... ohh what courage and bravery that implies" or just "fucking French".

Dogs and Duck

I was walking on the canal from angel tube to haggerston, on my way to de beauvoir estate, this crapy place in the golden triangle where I've just moved.


Angel (west)  - Old street (south) - Dalston Hacket (East)
and in the middle, the mer de beauvoir estate. Not really nice but I like crap.

I saw two dogs playing and the owners were looking at them with a smile, while the dogs jumped each other near the canal.
I stopped and i looked with them, a smile on my face.
I really felt like i was not right to be there. None of the two dogs were mine.
So here i was, as a intruder in this peculiar "dog owner" joyfull moment of seeing their beloved pets play.
And me.
Felt good, wrong but good.


Also there was a frozen duck, still, on the walk. Bikes would pass next to him and he did not give a *uck.

The hair dresser always know when to stay quite.

I wen to cut my air.
The guy that did it stayed focused, did not talk to me too much.
He knew I needed some silence. And the silence was joined with Phil Collins on his drum set on the radio.
This guy told me he was from Chypre. It was on Chiswick High road.
A place called "Chris".

The little girl's newspaper

There was this little girl, trying to read the newspaper, all this twice her size.
Sitting in the tube, all she really wanted was to look like an adult. 

I could have been a barista

I had a meeting on my first week in london for a position in a high standard coffee shop.
They consider coffee as wine, and the barista is the sommelier.
Let's just say when i arrived I probably drank coffee like 10 times in my life, no more, I'm not a coffee junkie, I hate mornings but instead of forcing me to wake up with coffee, I simply continue to sleep. Easy.

So I arrive in the shop and wanted to talk to the italian barista trainer for my interview. He is nice, and ask me to wait outside. He asks "you want a coffee", "of course, an espresso please". What else should I have said ?

"No, tea please."

I sit outside, there is an italian girl, seems like a waiter or employee of the coffee shop, crying and screaming on the phone outside. I already love this place.
The italian barista trainer sits with me and tells me the girl is his colleague, he then joins his hands in a prayer, looks at me and says "Women...".

I already like this man.
Judging by the screaming, tears and drama I think it has to do this sentimental life. But i like it, drama is life and boy she was living it fully.

I speak with him and general manger, it's ok, I say my stuff and he then asks me to follow him behind the counter to prepare a coffee.
Let me tell you I had looked on youtube how to prepare a decent coffee.
He does it. And then it's my turn. I take coffee inside the handle, I press it, espresso pours out, I steam the milk like a virgin and add it to the coffee with a huge smile on my face.
All the other employees were gravitating around me at this point. I looked like an ass. But I was having a huge laugh, in my head.

Two days later he offered me the position.
I could have been a great barista. But I wouldn't have been able to tell you this story. Next time maybe. 

It's a mess

London is a mess. There is people everywhere looking to buy some shit.
Shitty food, shitty clothes, shitty products you pay high price.
It's where all things come to find life but don't succeed.
You know it's gonna be off but you jump head first. 

A place

There is a place where all you want to know is nothing, where you get lost in a torrent of speed, stress and leisure. You spend, you go fast but you do not see.