It’s Official: Closetblonde is a Weakling

In case you haven’t realised, I could never be a true backpacker – unless I had a Sherpa to carry all my stuff, that is. I struggled with my backpack, luggage and hand carry up and down stairs in the underground. One guy (in the tube) sized up my luggage, looked me up and down and then smirked. Bastard. (At least I wasn’t the one walking around carrying a “murse” – ie: man purse for those of you not in the know……) Luckily, I had my “Sherpa” (ie: R) meet me at the tube station who (thank God) visits the gym and helped me with most of my lugguage. (R: “What do you mean this is heavy…?”) The underground is seriously a “cardio + stair master workout”. Escalators go on forever that it’s like going to another country.

In preference to my “Mistaken Identity” post – my first comment from the first Londoner who spoke to me was the currency exchange guy who said, “Oh, I thought you were Japanese,” (after handing him Australian dollars). *Sigh*