Catching up in east London

I am very much behind the times here. For a start, I'm getting increasingly behind with episodes of Lost because I don't have Sky TV and have to watch it online -- but probably because everyone else in the world is doing the same thing, the videos spend weeks on end buffering.

Another example of how behind I am is that now both Dune and Non-Blondie have blogged about us all meeting up, and I haven't mentioned it before now. Last post I was still writing about Dune's first week in England, and that was nearly a month ago now.

Because I am all about meeting the bloggers, I thought it would be fun if Dune and I met up with Jiminy Cricket and Non-Blondie. Together the three of them could reminisce about life down under and lots of fun things like that. I won't be friends with anyone online that I wouldn't be prepared to see in real life, and wherever possible I try to meet online friends, along with making them CDs and posting them stuff. All y'all who are afraid I might stalk you are missing out. This does go the other way too, sometimes I go through my Facebook friends list and reconsider if some of these people I actually want to be friends with -- even if I know them in real life.

Luckily for me, Dune thought it was a great idea to meet JC and Non-Blondie -- but Jiminy being the funny bastard he is worried me when he replied to my email. I'd contacted him suggesting a possible meet, and when I got his reply my google mail alert popped up with an extract from the email. It started "Oh wow, this is awkward...Umm... We'd like to meet up but..." and I thought it was going to be a polite decline, something like they weren't really comfortable meeting people off the internet. But no, he was just being mean and so I called him a bastard, and a meet up was arranged.

I chose my favourite bar in Shoreditch, and although I found our way there without a moment's confusion or hesitation as to direction (it more or less involves just walking in a straight line) Dune did become acquainted with my phrase "it's just up here". It seems my idea of "just up here" and the rest of the world's don't quite tally up, and I suspect Dune began to wonder if I really knew where we were going. The funny part was shortly before we got to the bar, Dune asked me if Jiminy and I had exchanged pictures, so that we'd recognise each other. Nope, hadn't occurred to me... I figured from their blog avatars and the fact they'd be together would be obvious enough, that coupled with them looking for other random bloggers they might recognise.

Not only did we get to the bar without a hitch, but there was only the briefest of seconds before someone saw us. I have to remember that although this bar is my favourite in the world ever, it's actually only good value during happy hour (which lasts for two hours, and is every day). It also has a lot more atmosphere at those times. Just the same, despite the bar staff not knowing what Dune's requested drink was and taking the longest time ever to make her a mojito, I felt justified in choosing the bar. Especially because they also do great food.

China Blue: you will be reassured to hear that where I sat this time had no candle on the table, and so this time there was no heart-stopping moment where I almost set the bar alight. Hopefully, you will also be glad to know that I don't appear to be barred following that incident, so we can look forward to going back. And leaving open flames alone.

One drawback the bar did have was a lack of desserts, and so as a merry band of bloggers, the four of us set off into Shoreditch in search of chocolate desserts. I'm not much of a fan of desserts, and so was spectacularly unhelpful in knowing where to go -- but after checking menus of several different establishments, we settled on a patisserie just by Spitalfields market.

I'd like to briefly interrupt this account of food and drink in east London by saying how incredibly awesome Jiminy Cricket and Non Blondie are. Seriously, these two are way up there with the very coolest bloggers I have ever met -- and exactly the kind of brilliance I was talking about lacking in my uninspiring date last month. I think there must be a certain kind of person drawn to blogging, because I can't think of a blogger I have met who wasn't great. Reassuringly, Dune didn't take an instant dislike to me on first meeting me and I feel like we really have been friends for years -- and helping fly the flag for damn cool Aussie bloggers are Jiminy and Non-Blondie.

Perhaps the highlight of the day (other than the chocolate desserts) was finding a local pub in Shoreditch. It wasn't a trendy bar or a hip pub, it was just your typical local pub -- where before you walk in you don't know if it's going to be full of wankers who want to stab you up, or if it will surprise you and be cool. Thankfully it was the latter -- although they didn't mind Non-Blondie throwing her drink everywhere, they seemed bemused by the concept of serving food. Despite having a blackboard listing the day's special.

Eventually, though, we did have to move on -- the lack of food was a problem, even though they were apparently happy enough for us to bring food in there. I suspect it was one of those kind of pubs where you could take your dog inside, too, and nobody would mind.

I remember once when I was a bar tender being left as the manager in charge one summer afternoon. I was unhappy when one customer brought their dog with them to the bar, but just as I was about to ask them to take the dog outside, someone else came in with their dog, too. And to really make things interesting, the two dogs started fighting. Better fighting than anything else, I guess. So yeah, I am generally against the idea of dogs in pubs.

The search for food culminated in a visit to Pitcher&Piano which has none of the atmosphere or edge of Shoreditch or the charm of a slightly grotty local pub, but what it does have is large plates of nachos. Again, this post is going to go on far too long if I don't end it there -- so Dune and I bade farewell to Jiminy and Non-Blondie, and caught the train home. The train journey home was a delightful time spent with drunk, racist and loud-mouthed football fans -- which I guess restored balance to a day spent with amazingly brilliant people.