I know that as a fashion lover, I should be ecstatic at any chance to visit the city, but I’m really not.
The sole reason I go there is the West End.
Yeah I know -Oxford Street, Brick Lane, The Beatles, blah blah blah.
It’s not for me.
In fact a lot of what I’ve seen in London has been a bit scary and dirty looking.
And the taxis are really expensive.
And while I love being able to navigate it, I loathe and detest the Underground…it’s so feckin’ HOT and then COLD and then HOT!
And the general public (natives and tourists) are quite unfriendly and rude.
Maybe it’s different to live there, but as a tourist, it’s a bit cruddy.
(I’m sure loads of people say the same about Dublin)
And also, even though it probably seems a little silly, most people from traditional Irish families have an in-built….well, I wouldn’t say dislike, because it’s not like that….
…well put it this way, hundreds of years of oppression aren’t let go very easily.
I mean The Irish Republic hasn’t been The Irish Republic for even a hundred years yet!
Not that that means I just hate random British people, because that’s just ridiculous.
I mean it’s not like some lovely British blogger my age has any connection what happened or even knows who the Black and Tans were.
It’s sorta ignorant to hold people today responsible for what happened before 1924.
I think it’s the general ‘British thing’ as in the symbolism that we have a problem with.
Like heading to London, I wanted to get into the spirit of things fashion-wise. Sure the Union Jack print scarves are quite fetching, but I’d be feckin’ ex-communicated from the Family is I thought to wear one.
Likewise, when I was in Madame Tussauds, I had a picture taken with one of those funny guards with the fuzzy hats and a quick snap taken with Harry, cos he’s a Ginger and the outcast of the Royals, but I wasn’t going to have a pic taken with the Queen.
Does it make sense?
But it’s an intuitive thing.
It’s in your blood.
For example, I’m sure Jewish people don’t shout vulgarities at the random German/Austrian people they see, but they’re not going to wear a Swastika or name their firstborn Adolf.
I do feel like some of you may get the wrong idea and think I’m some crazy racist.
I’m not….I swear.
I love Coronation Street and Harry Potter and James Bond (although the best Bonds were Scottish and Irish, so maybe that doesn’t count) and British Vogue (which is miles better than its American Cousin).
But I’m not going to cheer the English Team on in the World Cup and it hurt a little to watch the English Rugby Team step foot on Croke Park soil, when 80 years beforehand, English Hooligans parading as Peacekeepers massacred innocent Irish men, women and children during a match in a stadium that only ever hosted Irish sports until a few years ago.
Ok wow, this is heavy stuff, so moving on…
Anyway, Madame Tussauds was the highlight of the trip.
Although bloody hell, you think someone would warn you about the two hour queue on a Sunday morning!
And lads, that feckin’ Scare Section….I nearly wee-ed myself.
I am a screamer.
I never knew that.
And The Boy nearly wet himself laughing at me.
And every actor in there targetted me.
And the old man behind me said he was glad I was in front, because my screams warned him that someone was going to jump out.
I was a mess coming out of there!
So please enjoy my ‘awesome’ pictures and my non-racism….it’s not the people I have problem with, it’s just, well, that I’m Irish.