Finding My Fix: Chronicles of a Travel Junkie

You may not know this, but I fell in love when I was in New Zealand.  His name is Tim Tam.  My Danish friend Camilla introduced me to him.  He was always there to provide his wonderful double-coat chocolate comfort when I needed it, which was just often enough to give me a layer of pudge (though I’m sure the pub-crawls didn’t help much with that either).

The “world’s most irrisistable cookie,” or excuse me, “the world’s most irrisistable biscuit,” is how they know him.  He was born in Australia.  His primary ingredient is sugar.  And, lucky for me, he’s imported to London.  It had been almost six months since I was able to down a whole box of Tim Tams in one sitting. I was studying in London (this was back in July), and I had heard tell that there were a few Australian enclaves in the heart of the city. Where were they?

I had a chance to ask that question when a speaker, whose name I can no longer recall (it’s been another eight months since this happened), came to speak at our travel writing class. He talked about American communities in Hampstead, so I figured maybe he knew of a few Australian ones.

“Try Kensington,” he told me.

So I set out one day on the Circle line to High Street and found my way into the beautiful whitewashed Kensington neighborhoods. There was no sign of any Australian shops, though I did find a grocery story that sold American food like tacos and salsa and Oreos. So I stopped in a boutique to ask the women there if they knew anything about any Australian shops.

“Oh, are you looking for things from home?” She hadn’t catch my American accent.

“Um, yes.”

“Well, you might try your embassy. They might be able to tell you where you can buy things from Australia.”

“Thank you,” I replied, excited that I had been mistaken for an Aussie.

I thought about phoning the Australian embassy and starting with a “G’day, mate,” but decided they’d be able to tell. Luckily a Kiwi friend of mine clued me in to a Kiwi coffee house somewhere in Covent Garden.

“Yes, on Berwick Street,” he pointed on a map, and I was able to navigate the winding streets until I found Flat White Espresso Bar. They were closing for the afternoon.

“Do you have any Tim Tams?”

“No. Sometimes we have them on Waitangi Day or when the All Blacks play. But we don’t have them now.”

“Are there any stores around? Like stores that sell Kiwi or Australian food?”

“You can try the New Zealand House on Haymarket, and I think there’s an Australian store on Maiden Lane.”

It was several days before I had the chance to walk to Haymarket. I had a friend along for the adventure. Little did we know the New Zealand House was the embassy. They directed us to a Kiwi store around the corner. Of course, hailing from Australia, Tim Tams were not available at the Kiwi store.

I asked the woman behind the counter, “do you have any Tim Tams?”

“No, Tim Tams are Australian!”

“I know that!”

We left and headed for Maiden Lane. We stopped in a bookstore to ask directions, but no one seemed to know where Maiden Lane was. As we walked down one street, I overheard two guys talking behind us, or should I say two blokes?

“Those guys have Australian accents,” I whispered to my friend.

“Do you think they’re going to the Australian store?”

“Maybe.”

“Maybe we should follow them. Here, I’ll open my notebook like we’re stopping to look at it and we’ll let them pass.” She opened her notebook.

“Hey, do you know if there’s an Australian store around here?” I blurted at them as they passed.

“I think there’s one on Maiden Lane, one street over,” one of the blokes pointed.

“Thank you!!!”

In two minutes, we were savoring Double-coat Tim Tams outside the Australian-Kiwi-South African-Canadian store on Maiden Lane. I fell in love all over again, and my friend fell in love for the first time.

Tags: 1A. New Zealand, 1B. Australia, 4C. Italy, 4F. UK, 4F1a. London, Travel

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