London 2

Dear friends

Big decisions and sudden change
It’s a gorgeous Sunday in London and I am feeling easy like Sunday morning… I am sitting in the garden writing my blog remembering the excitement from last night’s bonfire night celebrations, but more about that later.

(The picture is from the display window of Harvey Nichols, the mannequin's dress is made entirely out of cocktail umbrellas)

The next week brought a clear head (I thought) and a decision to move to New York. During the previous week I had spoken to various friends in New York who gave me conflicting information about the cost of living in the city and the probability of me living a good life on the package I was offered. After weighing up the various arguments I was dead set in New York, but still I had a niggling feeling that something was not all right. I couldn’t help shaking the feeling of being like a lamb dragged of to the slaughter. Nonetheless, I rang the agent to inform him of my intention to accept the position, and that I wanted to see a draft contract.


Sometimes I honestly believe that the universe works in ways that we will not be able to understand. I had no sooner put down the phone from my agent accepting the NY job, when I received a call from the head of recruitment at a company called SPG Media. They had a position available as head of sponsorship for conferences they do in Europe, Asia, North America and South America. I told him that I had just that morning accepted a position in New York, but had my doubts. He asked me not to sign anything until I have met with them and can decide which way I wanted to go. I was so confused. On the one hand, I love New York but London had been on the cards for sometime and I couldn’t help but feel that I had to give it a chance before shipping off to New York. I know you’re all probably thinking “You silly drama queen”, but hey, that’s Gigi, never a dull moment!




(The picture is Abudabi Harrods as I call it - Harrods lit up)




I had my first interview on Tuesday morning with SPG Media. The interview went very well, and they invited me back for the second interview the next day. Sean, the recruiter and fellow South African, had promised me a speedy interview process.

I received my contract from New York which gave me a little room to manoeuvre out of it, should I get the job in London. They wanted me to sign a restraint of trade for one year which would have meant that I could not work in the same field for a year should I ever leave. There were also inconsistencies in the contract regarding targets they wanted me to hit before they would pay the cost of my visa. I questioned these and started to become messy and feeling “lamb off to slaughter” feeling got worse. That night I realized that I was accepting the NY job only because I was desperate and that with the conditions the posed, I would be very unhappy in a short time. There were various other considerations, but that night I sent an email turning the down the job. I know I really seem like a confused queen now, but at that stage I was no longer confused. I knew I wanted to stay in London.

My interview that afternoon went very well, and I was invited to the third interview, which is usually a fait accompli that you have the job. I received several phone calls that afternoon from the VP of HR and the CEO of the NY company trying to convince me otherwise but my mind was made up. On Thursday I met with the CEO and Sales Director of the London company and as usual, I blew them away! Excuse my modestyJ, but hey, ya gotta blow ya own trumpet! They phoned to offer me the job later that day and I duly accepted with starting date on 1 November. That weekend I met my friend Margo her boyfriend and had a mini bender, which in my terms mean that I got to bed at 3 am! I spent the next few days looking at places to stay, because as my dear friend Konrad always says “fish and houseguests go off after three days”. Well I was starting to honk at Carol’s. Although I knew that her and her husband didn’t mind, I was still feeling a little in the way and that I had outstayed my welcome! They have been so amazing by putting me up and the sheer amount of emotional support they have offered. I was a nervous wreck halve the time after I’d had an interview.

Haunted house and octogenarians
Ok, let’s get off the detour and get back to finding a place to stay. I have to start this by telling you all that London is one of the most cities in the world. In fact, I think it is pretty much high on the list. With the money running out on Zola Budd’s legs, I found myself in a position where I had to find a relatively cheap place that would still be central. Also considering the fact places ask for one month and other two moths deposit. I saw a few interesting places, to say the least. From an old English terrace house in true Agatha Christie style (I was convinced it had spooks!), to a few real flop houses with smelly carpets, a beautiful modern flat in Greenwich, much like my old place in Cartwright’s corner. This was ideal, but they failed to mention in the ad that they wanted a girl! Then I saw a place where I really wanted to live. Right in the middle of Notting Hill minutes from the Notting Hill Gate tube station and practically walking distance to my new office in Paddington. I was to share with a gorgeous French guy with the sexiest French accent that just made you feel like saying Voulez vou couche avec moi! He had a South African girlfriend (bitch) from Tamboerskloof. I had such a good time chatting to him and was convinced I was going to move into this lovely location so close to Kensington Gardens and Kensington Palace, where Lady Di took official residence back in the day. I had to wait till later that week to know whether I was going to be sharing with spooks or with the spook of Lady Di!

I decided that four places were enough to see for then and I was going to sit it out till the weekend, so I got on a train to Liverpool to visit, which is where you found me at the beginning of the previous chapter. Dave lived in South Africa a few years ago and we became friends. That period was of the most debauched of times that I can remember. Dave is now a teetotaller, but he is totally off tea the minute he sees me! I do manage to get him to drink a few glasses of wine! I know you are thinking evil, evil Gerald, but well, I can’t drink alone with the picture of sobriety sitting opposite me! On the first night at Dave’s we finished 4 bottles of wine between the two of us. Thank God we were at home! On Thursday we went to visit Southport, which according to Dave was the seaside escape for middle to upper class people while working class people went to Blackpool, just on the other side of the water. Class or no class, let me just say that I have never seen so many nonagenarians with Zimmer frames and nebulisers in one place! Even though it was half term week and full of school kids, they kids were still outnumbered four to one!

The place was heaving with old people! We had a lovely seafood meal in a restaurant full of old people. I thought an old lady at the table next to me had choked on a mussel or something, but it turns put that she just nodded off mid meal! Ag sies tog… We went back to Liverpool and I spent the rest of the day feeling rather old and haggard.

I spent a lazy day on Friday wandering through Liverpool. I visited the Liverpool Tate where they had the works of this year’s Turner Prize finalists on display. Liverpool is actually quite an interesting city. Having been awarded the European Capitol of Culture title, they are spending a lot of money on reviving this once derelict city. The old architecture is actually very nice, and although there are loads of abandoned roofless buildings, there is development all over the place, which is usually the sign of a boomtown. Being a university city, it lives up to the usual party environment that comes with the students around. That was exactly what we were going to get up to that night.

(The pictire is of a building in Liverpool, the cirlce rotates, quite interesting)

I get lucky and robbed on the same night
Later that evening with a bottle of wine behind us, we left Dave’s dressed in our Friday night best in search of a wild party. Like any city these days, there are loads of swanky places and Dave took me to a few of these. The first place we went to was a larger version of the M Bar in Cape Town. Complete with red interior, red leather sofas and booths with gorgeous bar staff to match. The vibe was sadly a little flat with dolled-up girls on the lookout for their bit of action that night. The funny thing is that I have noticed that are actually far more women than en in bars and clubs wherever I have been since my arrival in the UK. This is not taking into account the drag bar I accidentally stumbled upon in search of a drink one evening on the way back to Surrey! The evening started off really mild with us drifting from bar to bar. We ended up in two eighties bars, in both of which I was mistaken for a soap opera star, whom I have yet to find out who he is, in fact I can’t even remember his name! We decided to check out the gay area, where things took a radical turn.

We arrived at a gay bar and hit the dance floor. No sooner was I on the dance floor and I had a really cute guy dancing next to me and checking me out. He came up to me asked if I wanted a drink to which I responded yes. I could not believe this! His name was Steve and he was from just outside Liverpool, and worked as machine engineer or something like that in the city, so I bagged myself not only a hottie, but a butch hottie at it! We danced together for a while then went outside for a cigarette. And a chat… I don’t kiss and tell! We returned and I decided to return the favour and buy us a drink. I got to my coat, which I thought had been looked after my friend who was with me, and reached for the inside pocket; only to find my wallet containing £150 had been stolen! Thieving scousers! I couldn’t decide if it was the larger than life drag queen or the dodgy dude who were dancing in the general vicinity of where my coat was. The drama that ensued afterwards was too much to mention. The long and sort of it is that I ended up back at Dave’s with Steve in tow, and didn’t get to sleep till 6 am… wink…wink!

The next day I found out that I didn’t get any of the places that I viewed the week before, so I went back to London with my work cut out for me in the next few days. I basically had three free days left in which to find a place to stay, open a bank account and apply for a national insurance number, all of which proved a challenge.

Well that’s it for now. Thanks for reading. Next time, read about my “Amazing Race” adventures around London.

(The picture is me haveing a glass of wine, in case you havent furgured that out!)



In conclusuion, I have to say that you guys have no idea how much I miss all of you. I have only just realized how lucky I am to have made such amazing friends home in Cape Town. I have also realized that I have relied on my friend for emotional and support quite a lot, and I’d like to thank you.

Love you
Gerald