Holiday!!

I’m going camping!  Have I mentioned it?  Oh, yeah perhaps just a few hundred times to anyone who’ll listen.  Anywho, it’s exciting as we have a fabulous bell tent, which is basically a tent version of a palace.  Well, compared to the usual cheapo Argos two-man that I’ve spent many a festival in.

The tent has upped the game somewhat though in all other stakes.  For instance, crockery.  I toyed with the idea of going retro with some blue and white enamelled gear and looked at some vintage melamine, which Sam refused to let me buy as the colour he decreed “so disgusting I wouldn’t be able to eat my food off of them” but then plumped for some lovely bright stuff from Rice.  Sam had bought we some of the cute tumblers for my birthday so I decided to go with the theme.

We still haven’t got any mugs, which is currently weighing quite heavily on my mind.  I can’t drink tea from a tumbler, it’s too hot, and I must have tea.  Hmm…

We’ve also been toying with the idea of rugs, bunting and duvets.  It’s a palace damnit, and it must be plush.  Also, I’ve been looking at Artemis and Nao’s efforts on one of my favourite blogs, Junkaholique, and am having a fit of keeping up with the Joneses as a result.

Finding somewhere to stay is apparently not something that ought to be left to two weeks before you plan on arriving.  After a bit of a scare where most places were full and after being told a few times that we really ought to have booked in April (we didn’t know we were going to be camping in April – how organised do you need to be?!!) I finally found a site.  Recommended by my friend Lia, who is a camping aficionado, well, compared to me anyhow, we have decided to pitch up (boom, boom) at Slapton Sands on the south coast of Devon.  This has required me to join the Camping and Caravanning Club.  I was feeling pretty middle-aged about it but then they sent me some stickers in the welcome pack so now it’s ok.

Firstly though there’s a week in a rented flat at Woolacombe Bay on the north coast of Devon with ensuite facilities and a proper kitchen and everything.  What?  You didn’t think I’d be camping for two whole weeks did you?  I’m dipping a toe into the weird and wonderful world of camping and hopefully will spend many a long weekend in the future in our fabulous tent but palace or not, me likey mod cons, ensuite shower rooms and balconies over the sea…

Bow

This week I took a trip to Bow (on a very hot and sweaty no. 8 bus) for a Shoreditch Sisters WI Committee Meeting…waaaay less formal than it sounds to be honest.  There was tea, biscuits and discussion of possible Christmas party events alongside whether or not cheese and crochet ought to be brought together and what was involved with musical bingo.  Serious stuff basically.

On the way there I passed two fairly contrasting elements, directly opposite each other.

First off, this sculpture, a somewhat obvious attempt to jazz up the council estate, although it seemed like a nice new estate anyhow so there probably wasn’t too much need I was thinking until…

…I spotted this scene opposite, which the flowers had distracted me from.  Barbed wire and what looks like a guard tower over looking a children’s play area!!!  The sun was shining so the picture came out a bit dark but I think you get the idea.

East London Town is an odd place sometimes and it doesn’t always do itself any favours!

Weekend wanderings

Oof, this was a busy but oddly lazy weekend, off the back of week of sleep deprivation thanks to the young men who’ve decided that the porch on the flats opposite mine is the perfect place to while away a night, drinking, smoking and yelling at each other at ridiculously loud volumes until 4am.  It’s enough to make you reconsider living in the centre of town.

Saturday was a lovely lazy day.  I wandered about Shoreditch and went into all the shops I usually by-pass as I’m too busy.  I chatted to a lovely lady at Tatty Devine and fell in love with a table at Unto This Last.  I also had a coffee at Brick Lane Coffee, which is appropriate as apparently Lonely Plant has today decreed Shoreditch a “coffee crescent”, whatever that is, and meandered along Brick Lane, which is really only sensible on a Saturday morning as it’s far too packed on Sunday due to the market and frequented by drunks and curry hunters at most other times.

The only picture I thought to take however is this one, which amused me as it brought to mind images of the local (rather ropey) fox population being retrained to serve cocktails, or tidy up litter or something.

My wanderings ended at The Woodcock’s BBQ in Dulwich Village.  The sun put his hat on and came out to play, Sacha did her usual amazing spread of food while Alan BBQ’d and we all sat around and nattered until the sun went down.  The brie baked in pastry with jam was especially amazing…

My friends Matt and Ceri brought their little bundle of joy, Alice, who is currently obsessed with her feet, along to join in the fun.  Cue, ‘pass the baby’ and many attempts to elicit a smile.  She’s not a grizzly, screamy baby either so is very popular…until she has a ‘movement’, at which point she becomes a bit persona non grata until Mummy or Daddy have sorted her out.  

This belongs to Alice and is supposed to be a baby entertaining device but looks a bit like Freddy Krugger attempted some baking if you ask me.  Still, I’m not the target audience so I’ll have to let it slide.

Saturday night was spent out with the lovely Laura (seen here having a hold of Alice) and some friends doing our best to avoid the invasion of the stag parties that seems to have overtaken some places in East London Town.  Yelling at ladies, stealing people’s seats and doing their best to start aggravation is not terribly nice behaviour to be around.  Thank god then for the Macbeth on Hoxton Street, funny looking people with directional haircuts, next season’s fashions and happy go lucky attitudes.  Muuuuuch better.

Sunday, Sam and I wandered about East for a bit, had a breakfast feast at S&M in Spitalfields Market, where the poor waitresses were clearly struggling with their hangovers but sitting on the pavement was nice (I suspect ‘summer’ may be getting a look in at last), and then mooched about in Covent Garden buying camping essentials such as a hoody (it gets cold in the wilderness y'know).  Phew.  All that walking took its toll and I had to have a whinge and a lie down before….we practised putting up the tent.  This was very exciting and surprisingly easy, which is relief! 

And, best of all on this rather unmotivated Monday I’m having, it’s only 4 days to go until our HOLIDAY!

Car-booty

So, this weekend just gone was another gloriously lazy one on the Isle of Wight…well, Sam attempted laziness whilst I demanded entertainment, but near enough.  Turns out he’d come prepped with a giant bubble making kit, which kept us all entertained for a bit – bubbles, like fireworks are cool.  Straight up, no frills but cool. 

On Sunday we got up ridiculously early (for a Sunday) and partook of a car boot sale in the locality.  Sam had a heap of stuff to sell so we set to doing our best to sell it all off.  Despite my initial scepticism we managed to sell most things and make £100, not bad for a few hours work!

The gloriously sunny weather may have helped as the locals were out in force…

Unfortunately there wasn’t much to buy, despite me searching quite hard.  Bah.  So I made do with a bacon sandwich and came home empty handed.  On the bacon sarnie though, they seemed, mystifyingly, to have adopted London Town prices at the snack bar, but it being the only one, it was that or go hungry.

I made it home in time to get into my pjs and watch The Hour, which I’m now obsessed with – I need Belle’s wardrobe and her hairdresser, stat!

Book Review: How to be a Woman, by Caitlin Moran

Caitlin Moran is one of my favourite columnists so when I saw she was putting out a book I leapt on it…after a minor disagreement with the horrid man in WHSmiths Books at Stansted Airport over his refusal to take book vouchers as payment because we were in an airport, which, now I think about it, still makes me cross.

Anywho, I had laughed out loud so many times by the time we’d been on the airplane for an hour that Sam had made me read out half of the first few chapters as explanation, whilst his own Simon Pegg autobiography languished on the tray table in front of him.  Caitlin (can I call her Caitlin?  I think I will anyhow) employs the same wit and humour as she does in her columns to explain why women are mental, fabulous and feminist all at the same time.  I especially liked her simple formula for sussing out sexism.  Basically, are men doing it/ experiencing it?  No?  Why not?  Er, yep, because they’d never put up with this crap, that’s why.

I was less interested in certain parts of the book, the long passages on what she should name her boobs (?!) particularly stick in my mind as a, yeah, yeah, alright I get your point, can we please move on now part for me.  Other chapters were harder to read, such as the chapter on abortion, but I feel it is important to challenge the way you think about things, especially when they’re so emotive, and Caitlin’s honest and open narrative impressed me a great deal.  I may not always agree with her but I respect her and her opinions.

In short - this book was un-put-down-able and should be read by everyone…men and women.  Indeed, my copy is already on loan and developing a waiting list!

Here are some other people’s reviews in the Guardian if you’re interested.

Berlin

So…last weekend was very lazy and I barely went outside so there’s nothing to report.  It was in effect a recovery that had been held off for a week from going to Berlin for my birthday the previous weekend…and got getting nearly enough sleep.  Basically partying + Ryan Air delays + hangovers + keeping odd hours = knackered.

We did manage to see a few cool things other than just the inside of bars while we were there though.  This pipe work, which wound it's way above ground all over Berlin, being a source of continual fascination for starters...

It was gorgeous weather on the first day so we headed out of town a bit to the Eastside Gallery, a mile long stretch of the Berlin which has been preserved and decorated, after the fall of the wall, by a number of international artists, remembering those who were subject to the wall and expressing messages about the symbolism of it and it’s eventual fall.  I took a lot of photos…

It was still eerie to stand in No Man’s Land in between sections of the other side of the wall that had been left standing and to remember that standing here while the wall was up would have resulted in imprisonment or death.  The guard towers at the beginning of the section are still standing, although rusted and it’s a poignant reminder of the tyranny and persecution that went on there and that these events were not in the distant past, or in some far off land.

The artistic approach Berliners take to their surroundings is really interesting, such an atmosphere of free expression.  There is loads of graffiti as a result, most boldly making the point.  The clothes being worn too were great, but it’s less embarrassing to take photos of walls than humans.

I celebrated my birthday in style at White Trash, Fast Food, a great restaurant/ bar/ venue/ club.  The sort of place that in London would cost a fortune to get in to, have unbelievable ques and then the drinks would be an arm and a leg.  In Berlin this translated to six euros each, taken by a charming drag queen on the door, after waiting precisely 2 minutes, then being able to get a table to eat at 11pm, being asked to wait by the bar while the lady found us a table (barely had time to order beers before she’d got one for us) then reasonably priced food, cheap drinks and cool bands to listen to before the DJs took over.  As a result it was 5am before we realised it might be time to call it a night.

Being chronically hungover the next day, plus the fact that it was pouring with rain, resulted in some half hearted sight seeing and lots of sitting.  Then cake and singing before heading off to Tacheles, an artists collective in an abandoned building, for a beer and a mooch about.  It’s a very cool place but the music was a bit too ‘techno, techno’ for my tastes.  It was a fabulous place to people watch though, teenage wannabes, ultra cool hipsters, business types on weekend off mode, tourists and OAPs all mixed in together all, seemingly, perfectly at home. 

Sunday, after a hearty breakfast in the Prenzlauer Berg area, with the coolest shops (all shut, damnit!) and little cafes we decided to avoid the rain and head to the Pergamon Museum, to look at the amazing sights there.  I’d been told that they had the Ishatar Gate of Babylon and other amazing relics but I had not expected to see floor to ceiling temples, gateways and statues.  It was truly breath taking.  I especially liked the lions that had originally run the length of the walkway to the city, which must have been pretty intimidating if you were entering for the first time.  I mean, we were gobsmacked at the scale of it and we live in a world of sky scrappers and men on the moon, the impact on your average pleb in 575BC must have been massive to put it lightly!

I also found a statue of the god Hadad, responsible for the weather and not doing such a great job in my opinion, what with having endured rain that not only fell down, but up due to a weird quirk of the howling winds that accompanied it.

All in all I love Berlin.  I love that the trains run all night, the trams are efficient, the bars don’t appear to shut and the people are relaxed, friendly and helpful.

Oddities on the way to work

There I was, quietly minding my own business, walking to the station to get to work the other morning and a series of sights stopped me in my tracks...

I think this is a drama/ dance school not a cult...although, having done a lot of dance I imagine a cult would not be that different.  They were standing in a circle swaying.  In fairness not half as weird as coming back the other Monday from the airport in the middle of the morning and finding a field full of black-clad people pretending to be cats.  Think George Galloway making a prat of himself on Big Brother and you're half way there.  I was feeling too ill at the time to take pics of that though unfortunately.

Then I turned down a quite side street, which is pretty posh considering it's right by the train line, and found that someone had set up a tyre graveyard overnight.  Where did they come from?  Where did they go? Complete mystery.

I hit the cross roads, thinking, hmmm, that was a bit odd and saw this.  Now, I may at times walk along with my eyes closed for all I manage to take in, but I'm fairly certain this lamp post was at the usual 45 degree angle to the ground the night before rather than listing drunkenly.  Everyone else seemed to be taking no notice so I took the photo to assure myself it wasn't just my hazy morning focus.

And then, lastly, as I walked down the road to the station, someone had burnt the bin down in rather an artistic fashion.  The bin still functions, clearly, but has since been joined by a new, non-burnt down bin, for what purpose I'm not sure as this one is still there.  Half arsed local council?  I suspect so.

I find mornings confusing at the best of times, what with not properly waking up until after lunch, but this was the oddest for a while...