My one-year London anniversary

This time, 12 months ago, I was sitting on the Queen Mary drinking my first pint with my London fairy-god-mothers Mark and Matt... and squealing about Big Ben, the London Eye, black cabs and red buses.

A year of pints, tubes, chavs, irritating accents, weekends in exotic cities, and actually experiencing all four seasons.

Since arriving in London I've gained a hatred for Australian-themed pubs, an renewed appreciation for sunshine and drinking midweek, some top-class friends who have truly become like family, a stronger sense of self, clarity about what I want from life, a wisdom that can only come with travelling and about 8 kilos through the 'Heathrow injection'.

And, in turn, I've lost the ability to cook a meal from scratch (thanks to M&S), my dependency on my car, a fear of being alone and my sense of apathy and laziness towards new experiences.

I've been stranded in airports, volunteered at a homeless shelter, driven a red convertible down quaint country lanes, swum in the Adriatic sea, sung ole land syne under Big Ben as it chimed in the new year, made my first snowman, partied in an Amsterdam coffee shop, been serenaded on a Venetian gondola, drunk sangria in Spain, had my email account hacked into at an Austrian White Water Rafting centre's cybercafe, walked through halls and rooms in the footsteps of some of history’s most famous characters, missed a dear friends wedding, caught a train to Paris on a whim, learnt to play the drums, been to a drag cabaret show in a converted, underground, Victorian toilet, drunk steins of beer in a German beer hall, been driven across the tower bridge in a pink limousine, spent the night in a jail in Switzerland (ok... a jail that had been converted to a hostel), been awed by the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel in the Vatican city, fed a squirrel, drunk expensive champagne with one of England's most famous soccer players and red wine under the Eiffel tower.

One year ago I landed at Heathrow ... nervous, excited and with no idea where this journey would take me or how long it would last.

June 23, 2008 feels like a lifetime ago. But packing up my life in Brisbane and stepping on that plane turned out to be the best decision I ever made. It's given me memories and experiences that I will cherish for the rest of my days.

THAT zebra crossing

There are many tacky things that one must do, when one visits the city of London.

I am slowly and surely making my way down the list but this is something I still haven't gotten around to yet... it's that famous zebra crossing outside Abbey Road studios.

You know why. Check this out, quite interesting!

Who loves London during the Tube Strike?

NO ONE!!! It is rubbish. Seriously, in a city of 8.7million people - 2.95 million of whom use the Underground every day - you can't expect anything less than chaos when the tube shuts down.

With 270 stations and 400km of track we're talking about the longest metro system in the world. The Tube is the city's nervous system and when the planned 38-hour strike took place last week I didn't like it... it was just plain eerie.

You had people wandering the streets like zombies just not sure of where to go and what to do... collecting at bus station, gazing blank-eyed as the crowded red buses heaved past in the manic traffic.

And for what? A few jumped up union officials with (in my opinion) unrealistic demands including: a 5% pay increase, a promise of no compulsory redundancies in the next 2 years and the reinstatement of two sacked workers (one for opening the doors on the wrong side of the tube i.e. the side without the platform that drops off onto the electric track and then for lying about a safety check... and the second for allegedly stealing - he is currently still undergoing trial!).

Do they know there is a recession on! Imagine if all of us had a little tanty about the fact that things are tough and refused any sense of civic sense of obligation unless we were promised that santa is real, the tooth fairy won't skimp on her payments and none of us will ever lose our jobs even when we're naughty.

To be fair to the Transport For London staff, those in the union voted 3 to 1 AGAINST the strike - but still it went ahead.

Oh well... in the spirit of looking at the bright side of life I would have never caught the bus out to work if it wasn't for the strike and I actually enjoyed the ride. Not only did I get to see a whole different part of London that I'm usually whizzing through in a dark tunnel...

I also spotted this fabulous ensemble from a 60+ year old plastic-surgery-addicted, fashion victim. Check out the leather pants and the pouffy jacket! Nice.