Badminton, and 40 gay men.

A remarkably flat path in the Heath

Last Thursday I decided to join a badminton club because I couldn't face my running group again. My legs were still punishing me from the last run I did with the club- a killer 14 kilometre run through the four big parks of the north- Hampstead Heath, the Extension, Golders Hill Park, and West Heath. It was 1 hour and 27 minutes of trying to keep up, lest I was left alone in the woods and eaten by a bear. Or a feral squirrel.

Anyway, I still felt like a bit of activity, so badminton seemed the go. Cheery thoughts of relaxing volleying with my family floated through my head. It would be a breeze. Plus, badminton is practically the national sport of Malaysia (tied with table tennis). Thus, skill in the sport is practically my birth right.

Things started not to bode well when I went to the sign up counter. The older man looked at me like I was a piece of exotic fruit emitting a strange smell, and asked:

So, Durian-girl, can I help you? (Or something to that effect)

Am I able to join the session tonight? I asked timidly.

Are you a beginner? We advise beginners to have lessons before joining. Also, you'll need to be familiar with the scoring system. We don't waste time teaching new people. We are very intense.

I'll just be going then....

...BUT I'm always being nagged about how few ladies are in this group, so I suppose you should come tonight. That'll be £7. By the way, this is a group for gay people and their friends. IS THAT ALRIGHT WITH YOU??? (Clearly judging my appearances, he was thinking- GO AWAY, little girl. We don't want you here)

Well, THANK YOU for your warm and hospitable welcome.

I was a bit put off, but upon entering the courts I was greeted with a wonderful sight. 40 gay men, of all ages and races, running around in short shorts and greeting each other with cheek pecks and squeals. The man at registration had not been lying about there being low female enrolments.

But it was fantastic! Every single person came up to me, shook my hand, introduced their partners to me and asked me about myself. During games the men would vocalise, scream, fall on all fours and beat the ground, and heartily congratulate each other when it was over. There was no machismo, though it was competitive. I loved it.

I was whipped, of course, mainly because I have a) no skill at badminton b) low coordination and c) not amazing aerobic fitness. But I might just go back again this week. We'll see...

Sometime in 2009, I had a vague inkling that went something like this:

Hmmm...wouldn't it be dandy to live overseas for a while??

A few months, and a visa application later, and it was decided. I was off to London for 2 years to seek my fortune/meet Hugh Grant/travel to Europe/escape study for a while. My poor parents. Will they ever have a graduate? (Emily! It's up to you!)

Since April 2010 I have been living in Golders Green, London. I have experienced the exquisite transition from winter to spring. I have enjoyed seeing 100 white londoners 'sunbathe' in 16 degree weather, and genuinely become happier when the sun is out. I've watched England cheer on their football team in the world cup, and swear as only English people can. Bollocks! I have wandered past the room Fleming discovered penicillin in, and gawked like a geeky tourist. (Ditto for Pearson's house. As in the coefficient.)

I've done my weekly market shopping at Portobello Road in the west, Brick Lane to the east, Borough Market and Brixton Market to the south and Hampstead Market to the north.

I've zipped off to Wales, Latvia, Florence, Chianti, Corsica, Sardinia, Oxford, Bath, and love it that you can zip to places like that from London, and be back in time on Monday for work. (or in my case, not work. I have looked, but not very hard. Can you blame me?)

I'm becoming poor, my wallet is becoming lighter, and my savings are becoming smaller, and I am eating many more pulses and grains than I ever have in my life, but my god. London is making me feel rich in sights and experiences.

It's great. I can't wait for more.