…. For two weeks.
I’m currently sat on a train headed from Bristol Temple Meads to London Paddington due to pull into the station right in the middle of rush hour (well planned George.)
I’ve been given the opportunity to spend a two week work placement at the Independent Newspaper! Months ago I was looking around for placements as part of our mandatory professional practice module at uni, and thought I’d give The Indy a try. Their site’s placement section was unfortunately very outdated and of no use to me so I went for the old school snail mail approach. I can’t remember the last time I actually wrote someone a letter.. pretty sure it wasn’t this millennium. Anyway, they received it and offered me this opportunity! Starting Monday I will be reporting to Derry Street so see what it’s like to be a big time reporter at a real newspaper. Shit.
Currently feeling a 50/50 split between excitement and nervousness. Who knows how this fortnight will pan out. Will I be legging it for the door Friday evening wanting to never interview another soul? Or will they be dragging me out as I kick and shout like a little kid screaming “I DON’T WANNA LEAVE!”
Besides the work experience, I have to survive in London for two weeks. Anyone that knows me will know that I’m not London’s biggest fan. It’s big, stressful and expensive. It seems everyone is always in a rush, showing no remorse for anyone in their way. A pint, even if we’re talking a Fosters in Wetherspoons, is never going to be below £4. The Underground is a claustrophobic nightmare which feels more awkward and uncomfortable than a long elevator ride containing all your ex girlfriends and that piano teacher who knows you faked a broken wrist to get out of his mandatory lessons. To top it all off, somehow nothing is close to anything else. It’s always “just a few stops away on the underground!” or “just seven zones away.” having grown up in Worcester, and then moved to Bristol, I’ve grown quite accustomed to cities of manageable sizes. You can walk the length of the City of Worcester in about half an hour and just about over an hour in Bristol.
I want to say that I’ll be good and just live off pasta, cheese, bread and tea – but I know for a fact that I have about as much self restraint as a magnet. With all the tempting food places around me I wouldn’t be surprised if I run out of money before Wednesday. Just writing this part of my post has led me to now Googling ‘Chicago style deep dish pizza London.’ (If anyone could recommend I would be very grateful.) It’s also my birthday on Tuesday, I’ll be turning 21. So I’ll have to find something to entertain myself with that evening, don’t want to just be sat on my own in the middle of Hammersmith. Luckily a mate of mine is coming to visit so I’m sure we’ll find someway to blow some money. God help me Wednesday morning…
Right, I think that’s enough for now. I will be updating regularly to record what I get up to at the Independent and in the capital in general.