It Aint All Tea and Biscuits, Jerks.

Posted: October 3, 2009 by The Polished! Blog in Uncategorized
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‘Ello, mates!

It’s my one month anniversary tomorrow!

You know, between me and London. It didn’t take long for me to fall head over heels for Londontown – which is a pretty accurate nickname. Full of sneaky little passageways and parks that crap all over Central Park (or Thorndon, for that matter) London is both a city and a town in all its medieval, cobble stoned, overcast glory. For the next 2 and a half months, you’ll be reading about my travels, my disasters (they’re bound to be plentiful), and my account of this cheeky town. And for your first taste of cheekiness, lets talk about the Regent Street Festival.

Regent Street Festival

Regent Street Festival

I live on a cute little curved street called Stourcliff off of Edgeware road, the street of shawarma fame courtesy of fellow Jerk-blogger (and great friend) Megan Hess. I’m seconds from all Middle East culture, Hookah galore and the biggest shopping street in London – Oxford Street. Passed the Primark – where 3 pound flats and 8 pound cardigans are as good as gold – the awkward lingerie stores and the ever tempting waffle carts sits Regent Street, the Fifth Avenue of London. On a normal day, it’s bustling with the clicks of riding boots and the swiping of worn out credit cards. But not on Sunday, the 27th.

Riddle me this: what would you expect out of a street festival? If you’ve ever been to a “festival” in NYC, you’d expect cheap sunglasses, weird women in dreadlocks selling handmade jewelry, some poorly made chicken satay and a good chance you’ll be felt up.

Oh no, my fellow Jerk. Not in Londontown. If there’s one thing I’ve learned about the UK crowd, they know how to party. And when they say festival, they mean festival.

Regent St. Fashion show

Regent St. Fashion show

I’m talking a ferris wheel. A giant ferris wheel right in the middle of London’s Fifth Ave., only to be accompanied by a giant carousel that kicks the Carousel Mall’s ass. What else was on the menu? Oh you know, just some jugglers, balloons, face painting, a full runway show, a 10 foot long candy table, Lady Gaga wannabes, live piano, and two very tasty, greased up Calvin Klein models in all their boxer-brief glory.

 

Being the foodie that I am, I bean lined past the stuffed shorts right to the candy table. Under one glorious tent lived a table of sugary, sour, sweet, chocolate, cakey, cheap candy. After scooping up as many gummy coke bottles and macaroon balls as I could, I sampled some really great (see: cheap) Thai food while being accosted by street performers and drunk Brits. Because it’s not a broo-ha-ha without the brew in the UK.

All the while, this was for charity. London managed to eat, drink, and party their way to the tune of Cancer Research UK, who accepted donations from festival fiends and high end retail on the streets.

Who knows what cheeky discovery I’ll make next! Off to see Big Ben. You have to do the touristy stuff, too! Until next time, Cheers!

-Nina Elias

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