Once famous for my world travels and stories of adventure and conquest I now write in a different light. The days of the forlorn traveller have now passed and I present the tales of Laurence Marshbaum in order to give you a preview of my new book entitled "Rock Bottom in London." I recall the day I decided to move here, it was a rainy Easter Weekend and from the depths of a cave overlooking Whale Beach listening to the Black Keys, I decided Sun and Sea were no longer for me that I was to embark upon a city which was the triumph of modern man and have a go and Cosmopolitan life in its truest form.
Initially I had visions of grandeur, of a plush London pad with a porter, of a job which sent me to corners of Europe not yet explored of Sunday afternoons spent cheering my beloved Spurs to glory from the Terraces of White Hart Lane. Yet for me, unfortunately none of this occurred. I was greeted by an attempted terrorist attack on my first weekend in London, by the worst summer ever endured by its pale-skinned inhabitants and a football team who reflected my initial experiences in the way they defended from set pieces.
The initial task of finding a place to rest my weary head, and finding a firm that would employ proved to be much harder than first thought. My timing could not have been worse, for a man coming from a financial background, the collapse of the world credit markets on the eve of your arrival in London is hardly perfect timing. Accordingly my first job offer, was pulled from me only moments after its offer. Whether the global credit crunch affected my to be landlord in the same way is another question. My dear friend Koops had a penchant for living in a distinctly Arab area of inner west london and therefore during my absence in Israel arranged for us to lease an apartment from a lovely Yiddishe guy by the name of Dr Mohammad Abbas Khan. Whether or not it was the fact that I asked him if I could hang a mezzuzah from the door of his flat or not, he still went missing in action the day before we were due to move into his apartment. Removal trucks cancelled , Koops and I found ourselves on the street. Coupled with this I found myself in an initial job working for a firm of South Africans. Having grown up with them all and having decided that I don't like them, working with them all the week after their Rugby team won the World Cup was enough to send a man mad. I had a boss by the name of Eric who displayed similar levels of incompetence to David Brent in the Office and the London working dream was quickly becoming my nightmare.
There are only so many Pret a Manger Tuna Sandwiches a man can take before his wits get the better of him and in Mid-October I started penning the first chapter of my book "Rock Bottom in London." The food, the weather, the work, the tube all the things I had been warned of were sending me in a spin of misery. Then inspired by some good advice by someone I consider close to me I looked at the other side of the coin. The music, the culture, the travel, the proximity to Europe, the centre of the world, the fashion, the friends that I'd made the struggles I'd had to overcome. Upon a beer battered fish and chips at the local pub I realised that perhaps things werent so bad and the following week I was rewarded with a lease over an apartment.
I now write from the trendy surrounds of Islington a tree lined street in a great area, but like everything in London it has its drawbacks. Im 500 metres away from the ars*nal stadium and have to hide my Spurs scarf when walking to games on matchdays. Spurs like myself are turning it around and I have been to every home game this season. Similarly, I have left Eric and the team of South Africans in my wake and am now working for a top Hedge Fund based on Saville Row in Mayfair. For those of you that know London there is no better place to work, and for those of you that are familiar with the reasons for my departure you will be pleased to here that I am being adequately challenged and more in my new role.
The winter has arrived, and whilst the conditions are bitter, a warm pint often warms the heart and I have a weeks riding at my friends chalet in Verbier, Switzerland to look forward to next month. I have established a good crew here and am loving the music, art and everything this city has to offer. A piece of my heart remains in both Sydney and Tel Aviv and I hope to visit both cities in the next year.
To all of you that I love, I bid you a Happy Chanukah a Merry Christmas and the best of wishes for the new year. You all have a tanned couch in an empty apartment to sleep on should you choose to stop by the city of London at anytime in the next year..........
All my love
