The story so far..

So I picked up and moved to London-town less than 2 months ago. It was not a rash decision, contrary to how that last sentence sounded. It was something that I mulled over, and plotted for quite awhile, though, timing never seemed quite right. Never right that is, until that day in March. "Why not?" the thought struck me. "Why not just leave behind my lovable, if not borderline mundane life at the end of Summer? What's stopping me"? Nothing apparently, as I quickly started to plan my get-away. End of Summer plans moved to end of May. Visa was approved, goodbyes were said and the next thing I new I was catching an early stand-by ticket away from Calgary.

I came here looking for something. Something self-defining. Life changing even. Some sort of epiphany that I was on the right track. That I was not floating aimlessly through life watching far more together friends peruse interesting careers and talents. The big question continued to loom over me "what are you going to do with your life?", just as it had been looming for the last 5 years.

Well the good news is, apparently all I needed was a change of scenery, some inspiration and some head space. It came to me in one quick fluid motion. It was so clear all along! Now that I have some direction it is a matter of putting my plan into action. Which brings me to the point of this blog. How am I going to spend some of my time working for free( necessary for the application process for the school of my choice), soak up everything this city has to offer, learn a new language, pursue an active social life all while all trying my best to feed, cloth, and transport myself in what happens to be (one of) the most expensive cities in the world?

Answer? Why, start not only to change my spending habits (cutting out fancy coffees never really seemed to make that noticeably of a difference) but change my whole outlook on my basic needs as an individual, the amount I consume, social stigmas and the likes. This of course would require a massive lifestyle overhaul. I wold first be required to quit my office job. The one that makes me a miserable, stunted, sorry excuse for a human being. The next thing to consider would be what I can do to support myself instead. Anything that springs to mind pays very little. Which would lead me to step 3: find out how to live on barely anything at all.

I recently came across an interesting article in one of the free papers the little men in purple shirts shove in your hands near tube stops. The headline caught my eye "SQUATTING?" it boldly declared. Well I didn't get much further than the headline before retiring the paper to make way for more stimulating exercises (namely pushing past hoards of people, barely missing toes as I attempt to secure a seat on the fast train home) The paper lay on a bench forgotten.

As a child as well as in my adult years, I have always been drawn to the idea of the romantic, if not somewhat dangerous life of a nomad. For whatever reason, that article stayed in the back of my mind. Until a few days later I decided to place an impromptu add on gumtree asking if the idea of opening a squat intrigued anyone else? I got 3 responses. One was spam, the second, a sexual proposition, the third from a seemingly lovely guy named Tom. Tom seemed to know what was up. He wrote me, outlined the reasons for his interest (same as mine) and agreed to spend some time researching it with me and possibly organizing a future meet-up. That's when this started to sprout from an idea into a plan.

Last night, was our first official meet up. After numerous emails back and forth as well as various other ads placed around the Internet, we managed to get a group of 8 together at one of the infamous neighbourhood pubs "Dirty Dicks". There was Ian: Black South African who spent some time squatting in shanties in Zimbabwe, Grace: Pretty English girl, moved here from a small town to pursue her passion for a career in music, currently works at a music charity, Eva: from the Czech, has been squatting around London on and off, only slightly dodgy one of the group, A cute little gay boy from Eastern Europe who's name escapes me: here to pursue a career in photography, Eva #2: Funky bull-dyke, outgoing, well spoken and does something in media, has years of experience with squatting, and, her girlfriend who's name also escapes me. All in all a very diverse, interesting group. We all have different reason for wanting to squat but share one common ground. The expense of the city and lack of funds.

After some time spent introducing ourselves and talking a bit about squatting we decided to go and check out the area for abandoned buildings. We came across one : The Seven Stars Pub on Brick Lane. Infamous pub/brothel that Jack the Ripper is said to have picked a victim or two from. After a bit of poking around we managed to find out that somebody had beat us to it. It was squatted and came compete with a rooftop garden. Damn. Came across 2 other places both equally cool, both equally occupied.

During our period of research, we found the ASS (advisory service for squatters) . Tom had contacted them and explained our situation. They were all off to some sort of earth loving conference somewhere, and offered us their squat to stay in and get some experience while we look around for something else. We had seen photos of their squat on the internet so imagine our surprise when one of the pubs we were scoping out turned out to be the actual home of the ASS? We stood around the back underneath one of the big opened barn style doors and shouted in "Hello? ASS people!" (charming) upon which two small brunette heads poked out at us. They agreed to chat. They opened up the very heavy, very padlocked door and led us inside.

The place was an enormous warehouse. We followed them up a set of stairs into the common area. It was large with fat, unfinished floor planks. The far white brick wall had a massive mural of a centipede painted across it. Obviously done by a professional. 2 large red "barn-style" doors opened outwards show off an impressive view of the city. Down below we could see a team of cricket players, sweating and laughing, oblivious to the abandoned building behind them. Random bits of art hung around the flat. Melted candles, salvaged goods, a few tennis balls, and some glass bottles for decoration. A self installed kitchen off to the side boasted impressive counter space as well as an impressive accumulation of dirty dishes. "Food is not (always) free " stated a hand-written sign, leaving us with the feeling that this place has seen its share of free-loaders.

In this weather, on this night, the place was perfection. One could picture themselves perched on one of the dumpster dived avocado green sofas, reading intelligent literature while the lasts signs of daylight slowly flickering into dusk. In my vision I can picture the squats token musician playing soft acoustic melodies, while the tea kettle whistled in the background. A house full of strangers savoring an empty night in a faceless building.

I have now fallen in love.

The sheer beauty and possibilities of doing something like this have not left my mind. Is this what Ive felt missing in my life? That sense of community? That sense of owning an idea, a concept? Participating in a cause and feeling a sense of belonging? All I know is that I am about to find out....