Ode to My Tainted Dreams

There are some moments in life that seem so far away, you doubt that they will ever arrive. As a young child in primary school, I can remember watching the older kids all going to various upper schools across town and thinking that I would never ever be that old, and would never ever leave my school behind. But life has a habit of creeping up on you; in what seems in retrospect to be a very short few years, I’ve completely finished school and am now looking into different universities. I mention this because the amazing meeting of last week, when I finally met the amazing Nussaïbah, was one of those events that initially seemed so far away that the notion of it actually happening became something of a fantastical concept.

Many, many moons ago, I was in the middle of tearing my hair out before a major geography exam. Despite desperately seeking to gain the best grade possible, I was spending way too much time online; on that night, anything could distract me away from conservation strategies in the Galapagos Islands, which despite being a fascinating subject, loses its appeal very quickly when you have to write about it under exam conditions. One of the messages posted on the Internet that night was a wish of good luck from a friend to a classmate and me ahead of the test the next day; a message that would lead to a new friendship being built with someone from across the globe.

After several hours of writing my heart out in a series of unending essays, I was feeling over the Moon, enjoying that feeling of raw happiness one gets after finishing a complex piece of work. Checking back over the Internet that evening, I was charmed to discover that someone else had also joined my friend on the topic of wishing us well, and upon investigating this person’s profile, was amazed to discover that they were from Mauritius, just over six thousand miles away. The sheer scale and size of the Internet is revealed through such moments, and I can remember taking a few minutes just to visualise that extent of that distance.

Thanking this charming young person for her kind wishes, we quickly got into a conversation on the merits of geography as a subject and became friends on Plurk that evening, with one of our first conversations being on that fact that I am not a woman. The months have flown by so quickly since those winter days and looking back, I can’t believe that we will soon have been friends for a year. Talking on Plurk soon spread over to Facebook, MSN and Skype; every single conversation left me smiling so much as we went through various anecdotes and experiences that we had been through. Nussaïbah is a truly incredible person, and one who I am so honoured to be friends with. I was delighted to learn that Nus was planning on moving over to London to study Geography at university, and elated when she was accepted into King’s College. After many months of battling away time zones, the day of Nus’ arrival to the UK finally arrived; the group of us from our school who had all befriended her were delighted to see how quickly Nus settled into to life within the University. Soon enough, we had already planned out our first meeting. Going to bed on the night before the appointed day, I looked back to those opening conversations all those months ago, and smiled at how the day when we would finally meet, a day which had seemed permanently placed within the distant future had now arrived.

Suffering from an irrational fear that I would completely oversleep and wake up the following evening, I quite literally went around my bedroom and set every single alarm clock I could find to go off simultaneously. The trick worked out perfectly. After quickly zapping through breakfast and spending several fruitless moments trying to make my hair look relatively human, the time to leave arrived. Unaware that my mother was working that day, I walked across town to the train station, feeling a slight sense of nostalgia in seeing the falling leaves scattered across the park, a symbol of just how quickly time had passed by this year since the snowy months of last winter. I was also carrying a slight sense of anxiety at whether the day would all work out okay, and more jovially, whether Nus was really a young woman from Mauritius or actually an old man having a bit of fun. I reasoned that even if it was the latter, he did have a rather awesome personality.

Nearly an hour after setting off on an extremely slow-moving train (and learning a considerable amount of information about a total stranger’s life as she spoke loudly on a never-ending phone conversation) we finally pulled into London’s Euston station. A few underground stops later and I walked out under the gray sky over Trafalgar Square, our designated meeting place. The Square seemed a little less lively then it usually is; the huge crowds of summer tourists had left and the miniature random events of the August festival were nowhere to be seen. Perhaps the biggest change for me was seeing the Fourth Plinth empty once more following the completion of Antony Gormley’s One and Other project. Even though it was far quieter then before, there still remained a feeling of vibrancy amongst its many monuments and statues. With a little time to spare, I quickly walked down Whitehall to the Houses of Parliament, its stunning architecture never ceasing to take my soul to a higher place.

After this short detour, the time for our meeting finally descended. Standing against one of the fountain walls, I scanned out across the crowds meandering through the square for any sight of the Nus. Suddenly, I felt my phone burst into life as an incoming call came through, though it was never answered; spying me from a distance, Nus had seen me take out the phone to answer and realised that the timing was probably a little too coincidental for it to be anybody else.

Something that I think will always engraved on both of our minds from that very first meeting is my reaction to hearing Nus speak for the first time; every part of my mental image proved to be accurate, aside from the voice. I had always imagined Nus to have a somewhat deep voice, with a slightly Russian-esque accent (seriously, don’t ask). As we hugged and exchanged greetings, I could hardly believe that this moment had actually arrived; writing a few notes on the journey back, I described my feelings during those precious moments with the very simple description ‘Wow’

After introducing ourselves for the first time in the real world, we decided to take a wonder through the National Gallery, one of my favourite places in the capital. With a labyrinthine system of rooms, one could easily spend days in there, going through hundreds of years of European art. We started out in the 16^th Century rooms and slowly began a trail through the building that largely followed a chronological path. Amidst several parties of school-children slinking across the Gallery, we saw some truly beautiful paintings, and for the first time ever, I really began to appreciate getting in close and analysing the different painting techniques used and how they had been developed over time.

One other thing that we both picked up on were the highly literal titles many paintings had, with artists in the past nowhere near the abstract descriptions demanded of more modern artists. ‘Still life painting of a vase of flowers with several other objects alongside it’ doesn’t exactly leave much imaginative scope to the viewer. Maybe the painters of the past could have challenged the system by presenting such images with wild descriptions best found in the Tate Modern, but alas, their work is frozen in time now. After butchering the Dutch language between us and spying a strange 3D box containing a miniature interior of a 17^th century house, we slowly made our way back out towards Trafalgar Square, stopping by my beloved portrait of a very sinister looking Salome by da Sesto.

Following a quick return to the present day (skilfully aided by bounty bars), we began the next stage of the day, a gentle meander eastward through the city. We walked up to Leicester Square and then to Chinatown, discussing a whole range of topics, from life in Mauritius to the differences between cultures. Eventually we began to turn towards King’s College, and despite several moments of doubt and several reachings for my highly antiquated map of London (a map so old, it probably predates much of the East End), we eventually found our way into the area surrounding the College, and with a sigh of relief, Nus took over the navigation of our journey, her real knowledge being a far more reliable tool then my faded intuition.

Walking through Covent Garden and reaching the Strand, we entered the amazing King’s College. Having only passed through along the roads surrounding it, I had never actually managed to properly locate it before and was quite surprised upon entering. I had imagined a highly traditional university and wouldn’t have been surprised to see everyone walking around in uniform. This image could not really be further from the truth; King’s has a highly cosmopolitan air to it and feels very modern in character. Following a brief tour of King’s many corridors and classrooms, we made our way up to the Waterfront Café. As the name implies, the café carries stunning views of the Southbank and all the buildings centred on the Thames.

After getting what can only be described as a gigantic platter of cheese coated chips, we relaxed and chatted the afternoon away, even issuing joint Plurks on our activities and struggling to out-wit our fellow Internet friends (despite ‘tuning in’ to the inspirational frequencies of King’s College). We discussed just how quickly the time had seemed to pass since those first conversations all those months ago, and how amazing it was that after being some 6,071 miles apart, there was only a single foot between us in that place. Afterwards, we made a brief visit down to the beautiful chapel of the College, but didn’t really want to interrupt a full practice session of the awesome choir. Leaving behind the enveloping warmth of the College, we headed back outside towards the Southbank.

Walking across the Waterloo Bridge, we could see landmarks stretching all the way from the skyscrapers of Canary Wharf down to the Houses of Parliament. Awaiting me though at the end of the bridge was a terrible shock: the gigantic plastic lawn outside the National Theatre had been removed much to my horror. Despite Nus warning me of their removal, a part of me still refused to believe it was true, even as we walked on down to the vast empty area were once the disproportionately sized chairs were found. Turning west again, we walked alongside the river’s sde towards the London Eye, meeting several living statues along the way (and quite naturally, posing for many photographs with them). Walking down until we were nearly straight opposite Parliament, we then saw something which both caught our eye, a children’s playground. Being mature young adults, there was absolutely no way we could refuse a trip onto the swings.

Looking back over that day afterwards, we both chose the hour we spent talking on those swings as the highlight of the meeting. As we flew through the air, discussing more solemn issues and our own pasts, time quite literally seemed to fly straight by us; the light greys of the evening sky turned gently to pure darkness as we spoke. There is something truly therapeutic about going on swings; somehow the whole world seems to be a happier place when you step out of the rhythm of the present and back into a younger state. I realised at that moment just how happy I felt and also how I felt much younger then at any other point in the past few years. Finally meeting such an amazing friend after months thousands of miles apart, I felt truly blessed.

With time no longer on our side, we slowly wandered back to King’s, but not before visiting a lovely little bookshop along the way. Walking across the Waterloo Bridge once more, and stopping to admire the beautiful night-time skyline, I felt a true sadness that this amazing day was about to draw fully to a close, and wished that if there was ever to be a random blip in the space-time continuum, it would happen at that moment. Sadly though, science was not forthcoming in this regard and regretfully, the time for us to split and go our separate ways finally arrived. Nus remarked that in the eight hours we had been together, we had hardly stopped speaking as we had circled Central London – to get me to speak at length to someone I have never met before is a truly remarkable feat, but to continue for such time is a true miracle and a sign that I had found a true friend. Bidding each other farewell, one of the most amazing days of my life drew to a close.

—

The train carriage was almost completely empty save for a sleeping German family and a few students. Against the gentle beats of the rail tracks as the carriages zoomed north, I reflected on the day’s events, and found myself already deeply nostalgic to begin the day again and to go through those awesome times once more. I had always wondered how the day I would finally meet Nussaïbah would go, in the end, none of my ideas were anywhere close to the fun and happiness I felt on that day; I could not have asked for a more amazing day with such an amazing person. As the distant lights of home flickered on the horizon, I smiled once more, casting my mind out to all the adventures in life still to come.