Two weeks later, how's the life in London? After innumerable update emails to friends and family with essentially the same messages, I'd like to present the key information here for posteriority.

* London is bloody cold.
I had stunningly low expectations of the weather, and these have been underwhelmed on an almost daily basis. Shivering my way up and down the bank of the Thames at 3 - 8 degrees, I nostalgicially yearn for the days of -8 degrees in Prague. The fact of the matter is humidity and windchill. I hate them both. No amount of clothing ever seems enough. I genuinely thought I would adapt faster, being used to the appalling weather of Wellington, but it seems that 5 years in Czech Republic has recalibrate certain survival related thermostats.

* I have no job or money.
I came here to find something, and so far its been more looking than finding. A certain amount of meditation during the Xmas sojourn in NZ had revealed that I want work which will better equip me to start my own business, and/or make the world a better place. After some supplementary soul searching the past few weeks, I would also add a third evaluation criteria of "gets money into my bank account now, if not yesterday". London is quite expensive place to live (apparently). I currently have about eight applications in process, mostly for project management or online marketing management roles in non-profits or charities.

* Its nice to be submerged back in an English speaking environment.
It may come as news for some of my ex-colleagues in Prague, but English is my native language. Being here in London has been an absolute delight in respect to being able to interact with almost anyone, being able to understand the media, browse the bookstores, and almost even get what you want from service people. That said, it seems to me that there is a specific cultural re-integration lifecycle when it comes to returning to one's best known language:
1. Return to society that speaks your native language.
2. Delight in understanding everyone around you.
3. Despair in understanding the inanity of conversations around you.
4. Wish you were back where few people speak your native language.
5. Retune your ears to filter out most voices around you.
6. Return to happy standard operating level.

* London is the most exciting place I've ever seen
There really is so much *stuff* here. The centre is packed with people, you can barely turn around without banging into another cafe (often franchises) or traditionally named English pub (i.e. "The Queen's Mustache" or "The Goats Scrotum"). Tonnes of events, lots of museums and galleries. If only I had some disposable income.

* The new flat is cool.
We have a flat in the delightfully named Gabriel House on Old Paradise Street. For bonus points, we're just down the road from the grave of William Bligh, so doubtless that should serve as a poor enough excuse for a pirate party in the near future. We're situated a few hundre metres from the east bank of Thames, just opposite Westminster and Big Ben. We're about 10 minutes walk from everything we would need, which unfortunately also means that we are about 10 minutes from anything we would need. Flat itself is average quality, but it has a decent kitchen and is otherwise only notable insofar as there is no hot water in the shower. Yes, it seems our landlord cut some rather large corners in the recent bathroom upgrade, and hot water to the shower was the primary casualty. Result of this has been a lot of long baths through which one may soak upon the issues of the day, and reflect upon earlier times, when we were using dishwashing liquid to generate bubble bath (for instance).

So thats the 411. More to follow when I actually get out and about for some touristing action.