It’s only day three of my time in London and I think I have already earned myself a reputation - that of behaving like a princess. And not the royal kind.Diana wasn’t happy being called a princess either
I didn’t mean to. It’s just that I am, well, quite particular about what I want. And the waitresses in London haven’t been impressed.
It all started with a little order of tea. Well, decaf tea to be precise. The waitress at the hotel wasn’t sure if they had decaf tea so I ordered a decaf skinny flat white instead. Simple? Unfortunately not. When I got back from the breakfast buffet I was greeted with a pot of tea, not a decaf skinny flat white. It wasn’t really an issue, but I thought I would politely let the waitress know that I had actually ordered the flat white, not the tea, and would prefer the flat white (skinny and decaf). Please. Impressed she was not. I can only imagine what she called me when she went back to the kitchen. I imagine it was ‘princess’ … though it may have been preempted by another not so nice or royal-like word …
At our next outing I may or may not have changed the menu slightly (why can’t the Brits serve food with salad or veg? Does everything have to come with chips? Is the Pope a Catholic?), so again I may or may not have been called a ‘princess’ by the waitress. And I know that my request for fresh lime in my soda as opposed to lime cordial was not out of line, but tell that to the bar staff.
I don’t mean to be a princess, honestly! I always try to be polite and lovely. It’s just that if I am going to pay for a service, I want exactly what I want. I believe it’s called being decisive. My husband calls it something else entirely (I can hear husbands nodding in agreement … if nodding made a noise).Jordan was more than happy to be called a princess
And let me tell you, these Brits haven’t been the most welcoming bunch – in fact, many of them should take lessons in ‘niceness’ before the Olympics hit in a few weeks’ time. “Cor, blimey, that’s bit below the belt,” I hear the Brits exclaim! But I am just saying that there are some people in the service industry who are not particularly good representatives of Her Majesty – a little more smiling and less eye rolling wouldn’t go astray. Enough said, princess.
Anyway, this little princess has been having a great time so far. Last night marked the official start of my WAGdom, with the first group gathering of the choristers and co. We met at a quaint little English pub beside the Thames, and proceeded to squish 80-odd Aussies into a mezzanine level space made for 10 Brits and a British bulldog. We quickly learned that three people within our group were celebrating their birthdays. So in the best ever rendition of Happy Birthday one could ever hear – complete with harmonies (and much to the delight of patrons in the pub below) was sung three times over with booming “hip hoorays”. Trust a bloody choir to take advantage of every singing opportunity possible.
After a few jolly ales, Rowan and I headed off for some ‘alone time’ down South Bank (not South Bank Brisbane, to clarify) and enjoyed a quiet dinner waterside among the merriment of summer celebrations. This has to be the best time ever to be in London – the weather is great (for England, which means it’s bollocks cold rather than bollocks freezing and not raining), with all the festivities for the Royal Jubilee celebrations and the lead up to the Olympics underway. It’s magical!Sunshine Coast Oriana Choir with St Paul’s Cathedral
And to top it off, today we spent the morning on a coach tour of London to re-acquaint ourselves with the old town. We passed Big Ben (well, we can just about see it from our hotel window each day any way), 10 Downing Street, went through Jack The Ripper’s neighbourhood, over the Tower Bridge and stopped for a group photo outside Saint Paul’s Cathedral where the choir crew will perform tomorrow (followed by a performance at Westminster Hall for the Royal Jubilee, darling …).I had to resort to a ‘selfy’ with the Tower Bridge
So I am off now to have some bangers and mash or fish’n'chips with mushy peas, and I promise not to change the menu … much.
Princess Genine x