an eventful weekend.

firstly, friday i did my firewalk for phoenix house (and yes, you can still send your donations!) i’d be lying if i said i wasn’t a little nervous. especially when the trainer tells you that human flesh melts at 300F, engine blocks are cast at 1100F, and the coals you will be walking on are 1263F. not exactly a confidence booster. and by the time we started to smell the smoke of the fire being prepared, i was outright scared.

but in the end, it is very simple: you either do it, or you don’t. if you don’t believe it 100%, there is no way you can force your body to move that first step onto red hot embers. survival instinct won’t allow it. and at that point i became very calm and just moved forward, and before i knew it, the whole thing was over.

it was hot. it was damn hot. anyone that says you don’t feel it is lying their ass off. even standing there getting ready to go, you feel you face getting tight from the heat. you suddenly realise that humans are *just not meant to deliberately put themselves in the path of fire*.

but, like skydiving, once you begin, there is no backing out until it’s over. and it’s over in the blink of an eye. over so quickly, in fact, that jonno didn’t manage to get a picture of me. ah well. there is supposedly a cd of photos which will be mailed, and hopefully there’s one of me. but even if not, i don’t really need photographic evidence. *i* know i did it. and that’s all that matters.

tick one more thing off the list.

saturday morning, angela, clare, sarah, shiela, natasha, su, and myself headed for amsterdam. it took and hour and a half to drive to gatwick from peckham, due to traffic, but i got there in the nick of time. we had a pre-flight birthday champagne toast, and an hour later landed at schipol airport. the hostel we stayed in was very reminiscent of a 1970s slumber party, but we dumped our bags and headed out for a drink.

amongst 7 girls, you would think the odds are that *one* of them would be able to read a map, however that appeared not to be the case, but after much circuitous meandering we ended up at a lovely little pub for a few cocktails and some “new” cheese (or was it “old” cheese??) in any case, we made a group decision to have dinner at a *Very* friendly italian restaurant, with plates the size of your head, and thanks to some hard-ball tactics by shiela, a free carafe of wine. after stuffing ourselves silly (what would prove to be a recurrent theme for the weekend), we managed to locate this great hip/mellow/ambient coffeehouse, where we proceeded to do as the locals, and get completed wasted. we spent the evening giggling away, until closing, at which point we decided to walk back to the hostel. clare assumed the role of “lead navigator and mistress of the map”, a decidely unwise decision, as an hour and a half later, we had managed to walk a route not unlike that of two big circles, connected by a wildly erratic squiggle. nevertheless we made it home, and were snug as bugs in rugs by 4:30.

the next morning started off a bit “panic stations”, as we’d forgotten all about the daylight savings time change in the middle of the night, but managed to right ourselves and head out in search of food by noon, only to suffer deja vu all over again, when we could not seem to head in the direction of the city centre staring out at us tauntingly from the map. hungry and cranky, we ended up in cabs, landing for brunch at a touristy yet nice restaurant, where we again, stuffed ourselves silly.

satiated, we decided to divide and conquer the city, a group of us heading shopping and then to the canal cruise, and a contingent headed for anne franks house. we stopped at a cigar shop and a sweet shop (where i bought my bodyweight in licquorice) and then took a very pleasant, if somewhat sedate, cruise along the canals. after wandering the red-light district, we refreshed ourselves at the “smallest pub in the netherlands”, and had entertaining conversation with the wacky bartender.

regrouping, we then headed out for more drinks, even more drinks, and still more drinks, followed by a very late dinner, before cabbing it back to the hostel for the evening.

6am wakeup call to get to the airport, and by 9:15 local time, back in gloomy gus london. where i proceeded directly to work. do not pass go. do not collect $200. bah.

marvel at the photographic beauty here

Like this post

Unlike

still caught up in the whirlwind. tonight I do my firewalk! tomorrow i’m off to amsterdam for angela’s 30th birthday blowout, crawling back to work on monday morning.

jonno and i are planning a year long trip around the world! seriously! leaving june 2005. i am in charge of planning the americas and europe, he’s in charge of planning asia, africa/mid-east, and pacific islands. i find it too hard to narrow my choices though, so left to me, we’d spend the whole year hitchhiking through central america.

i know, i know, pictures of bath and rome are still outstanding, pictures of the firewalk and amsterdam to come. i *will* get them up by the end of next week, i swear, i just haven’t been home in a month to edit/arrange/publish them. hell, i’ve barely even had a chance to look at them myself.

happy 87th b-day grampa maddock! love you lots.

Like this post

Unlike

rome may not have been built in a day, but it won my heart as soon as i got off the plane.

i can’t begin to tell you how in love i am with the city. For my money, it blows Paris right out of the water. Perhaps it made an even more indelible impression on me, because i had no expectations of it, or preconceived notions. i did no research before my trip – didn’t even so much as crack a guidebook. yet around every corner, there was breathtaking art and history and character and charm and more beauty. we’d meander down some tiny alley and find ourselves surrounded by verdant balconies and rooftop gardens, or turn onto a sidestreet and be suddenly amidst ornate fountains and statues, and alex and i would turn to each other and say, “oh look! more random beauty!” it was overwhelming – too much for the senses to take in.

the plan for the start of the trip was for me to meet kari and alex in the airport in rome (they were flying in from boston, via milan), but due to fog, the rome airport was only letting two flights per hour land, so i arrived five hours later than scheduled. i finally got in, and travelled into the city centre, where i met alex and kari at the hotel, which was as old-world and charming as they come (alex wangled us a penthouse suite for free!). marble, chandeliers, wood panelling and brass everywhere. after settling in, we headed out in no particular direction, and did some random sightseeing – the museum, the “fake” pantheon (ok, so we misread the map and ended up inside some elegant historic church before we caught on), and the real pantheon. we had our first of many delicious dinners, and then had limoncello and biscotti for dessert at this *fabulous* little wine bar/restaurant we found off the campo dei fiore. it was like stumbling into something out of a movie. a true gem, it was cozy and gracious and charming and hidden (not to mention cheap) and we ended up back there 4 nights out of five while in rome, and didn’t feel the slightest bit embarrassed about it. by the end of our stay, the waitstaff welcomed us like old friends, and we bid a personal goodbye to the owner, truly sad to know we wouldn’t be back there for quite a while.

alex and kari being serious fashionistas, the priority for our first full day in rome was shopping. we did some *serious damage*. we rented a car (i drove!) and headed to the outlets to worship at the altar of dolce and gabanna, versace, etc. – all the biggies. i bought some outrageous ferretti hot pink patent leather stilleto sandals, which i love, and some naughties at la perla. 6 hours later and laden with glamourous goods, we had a vague notion of driving to florence for a late dinner, but after an unscheduled detour through a shantytown straight out of “snatch” (bonfires, piles of trash, mobile homes as far as the eye can see) we managed to find our way back to rome, and decided to stop back at “our bar” for a lovely meal, dressed in all our newest finery. wild game prosciutto, classic melt-in-your-mouth carpaccio, torta neopolitana… mmmm. wine, more wine, and many limoncellos meant we wound up giving each other a boozy fashion show in our hotel room at 4 am.

the next day there was a massive peace march through the streets of rome marking the one year occupation of iraq, which alex and i took part in – energizing and heartening to see the tens of thousands of people who were still outraged at the war and bloodshed, a year later. it was big and boisterous and impassioned, and although we couldn’t understand the chants or political banners, it was a wonderful experience to be involved in something so globally unifying.

(nytimes.com photo)

after the march, we went in for something a little more sophisticated – a full multi-course dinner at a lovely old-world restaurant (again, free – thank you alex!), and then headed in search of a trendy nightclub called lattepiu (”milk bar”, modeled after “clockwork orange”). sadly, we failed to find it (perhaps it’s so trendy that no one knows about it?), and ended up having a drink at a tourist trap in the shadow of the colosseum, before deciding we’d rather just head back to “our bar”. many many limoncellos later (and after alex re-enacted “la dolce vita” fountain scene) we stumbled back to the hotel, at an exorbitant taxi price. when the driver didn’t have change, alex went into the lobby to get some, and then the driver kicked kari and i out, seemingly telling us (in our impeccable italian translation) it was fine, he didn’t need change. 5 minutes later, the lobby staff was calling us about the irate taxi driver at the desk, waiting for his 5 euros.

the next morning we headed off to vatican city to see the masterpiece of the sistine chapel, only to discover it was closed, but we still got to go to the top of the dome of st. peter’s basilica (several hundred narrow claustrophobia-inducing steps to reach it) and the trevi fountain (massive, just massive) with a side mission stop along the way for the *best* award-winning renowned gelati in all of rome, especially for alex. we walked over to the spanish steps (crawling with tourists) and saw a very moving memorial to the madrid bombing outside the spanish embassy, and in fact, there were handmade signs of unity and grief scattered throughout the city. after so much climbing and walking, we could barely contain our excitement about heading back to “our bar” for dinner, where we had more delicious wine, smoked swordfish, and artichoke and salmon lasagne, and a beautiful lemon granita. and of course, limoncello and torta panacotta for dessert.

monday morning we had to pack up and say goodbye to our lovely hotel, then headed out on a second attempt to see the sistine chapel. on the way, alex had her wallet stolen on the metro by some gypsy children, which caused some chaos, but luckily not much was actually taken. getting to the queue for the chapel, i managed to do some mental money-laundering (so as to convince myself i was *not* actually giving any of my money to the catholic church) which may seem silly, but i was otherwise prepared to boycott the chapel, so it was important to me. the chapel itself was magnificent, and being in the presence of so much astounding beauty was awesome (our enthusiasm dampened only by the constant yelling of “no pictures” by the security guards). we then we went to piazza navone, (more foutnains and random beauty!) for a last cappucino, did some window shopping, and then it was time to go home. sad as I was to leave, it was wonderful to know i had my boy waiting for me at the airport.

there is sooo much i have left out, so i may come back and edit this after i go through all my pictures and put them up (yes, i know, i still don’t have the ones from bath up yet either!). i have glassblowing tonight, so it probably won’t happen for a few days.

i can’t wait to go back.

see all the colourful blurry photos here

Like this post

Unlike

off to Rome tomorrow morning! haven’t had an opportunity to so much as crack a phrasebook, but no matter – i don’t need to speak the language for snogging. alex has arranged a swanky suite for us at the hotel mediterraneo. if i don’t make it back, that’s where i’ll be holed up with some tall dark italian stallion, preferably with little-to-no command of the english language…

(oh, in case you were wondering what bruce looks like, i linked a pic below)

Like this post

Unlike

ever notice how sometimes the best things happen when your plans get waylaid?

the weekend started out according to plan. friday night i cleared out of nick’s place in streatham, where I’d been staying for the last 2 weeks, and got picked up by jonno in the very pretty new car, whom i have named “bruce” (surprisingly enough, boys don’t tend to name their cars?!?) we went for a quick dinner, and then headed over to tooting for a birthday drinks thing at the pub, which then morphed into after-hours drinks at a friend’s house.

woke up saturday morning with a whole day in front of us, sun outside the window, and no concrete plans except a vague notion of going to bath for the day. bath is the site of roman ruins (including the eponymous baths), about 100 miles away from london, and is supposed to be quite lovely. neither of us had ever been, so we set out shortly after noon, decided to make a quick stop in peckham to drop off my junk and pick up my camera, and hit the open road.

one hour’s worth of saturday inner london traffic later, we had yet to even reach the motorway. by the time we even got the first glimpse of the m4, it was nearly 3:00. finally broke free of traffic, and were cruising through the lovely green countryside, eating sweets, enjoying the views of cows and rolling hills, listening to tunes and basking in the glow of sunshine filtered through the windscreen. as we got closer to our intended exit, we passed a sign saying that the motorway was closed between exit 17 and 18, and upon consultation, decided that the motorway couldn’t just be *closed*, that there would probably be detour signs as we got closer.

20 minutes later, we found ourselves at a complete standstill, the motorway having become, for all intents and purposes, a large carpark. this was at 4:30.

around 5:00, we began to see people starting to drive along the shoulder and quickly decided to follow before our escape route was blocked. followed along a dirt access path, to suddenly find ourselves on the road to “tiddleywink”. i kid you not, that is the actual name of the village. having come this far, we decided to press on, but agreed that there was no way we’d get to see anything of bath that day, so we decided to stay overnight, and see the ruins and such on sunday.

with no need to hurry, we took a short detour through the quaint little town of “box”, (again, no aliases have been used)stopping in to have a pint at the bear pub in front of a roaring fire, and take a few scenic photos.

we finally arrived in bath at 6:30, and went in search of a b & b to stay at. drove around for a bit searching quite aimlessly (forgot to pick up my lonely planet guide when we were in peckham), until we finally stumbled upon the “cedar lodge”, which looked rather cute. the proprietor told us he didn’t have any vacancies for the evening, but that he could give us the number of another place which did.

phoning up, we spoke to “margaret”, who said that she would be happy to accomodate us, but she didn’t want to give us confusing directions over the phone, and as she was “just around the corner”, she’d come and meet us in the carpark. she would be in a “bright red robe”.

we thought this a bit odd, but all became clear when she pulled up in a bright red *range rover*, and we proceeded to follow her “around the corner”, i.e. halfway up the mountain, and fully into the next county. however the room was lovely, and were tired, so we registered, then headed off in search of food, taking with us, margaret’s trusty handdrawn map to get us safely back up the mountain in the dark.

by this time, choice of restaurants were limited, and we ended up at a nondescript chain, which took an hour to serve us, but the burger was the size of my head, and went down particularly well with a beer, and after a quick stop into the safeway for toothbrushes, we decided to head back to the b&b for the evening.

at which point we unwittingly entered dante’s circle of driving hell. all attempts to follow margaret’s “map” (a misnomer if there ever was one) lead us nowhere, and when we passed the restaurant for the fouth time in 45 minutes, we became fully hysterical. apparently the 5th time is the charm, however, and we managed to somehow wend our way back to the b&b.

morning came, dreary and drizzly, but we had breakfast (8:30 sharp! as margaret warned us) and headed out optimistically into the rain. we drove around in circles looking to park bruce, and finally (after completely abandoning the “map”), managed to make our way to the famous baths. at which point, the batteries in my camera died.

we bought a disposable camera, and spent some time climbing around, touching the water (no, i know you’re not supposed to, but it’s *right there*) taking photos, and then went to explore some more of the city. only to walk right out into torrential rain and tornado-strength wind which soaked us through to the bone in 3 seconds flat.

we bought an umbrella (which promptly turned inside-out) and slogged around some, but eventually just began looking for a warm place to have some coffee and wait til it let up. seems that most of bath had the same idea, as coffee shop after coffee shop was packed to the gills. wandering down a side street, we saw a sign advertising coffee and strudel “downstairs at the strudel bar”, which turned out to be downstairs through the “hansel and gretel” shop, specialising in all things bavarian and alpine. which is why we found ourselves in a bizzarro-land room full of cuckoo clocks and swiss woodcrafts and stuffed teddybears, sipping cappucinos and eating strudel, whilst listening to yodeling playing in the background. it felt like we’d fallen into some sort of heidi-world/alice in wonderland rabbit hole.

eventually we left the rabbit hole and the rain had stopped. we walked through the park, watched a marathon which was going through the city, stopped into the pub for a pint, and then went fruitlessly in search of a roman glass souvenir. we stopped and had some lunch (an italian place whose “oven had exploded” and could therefore only do pastas), and decided to head home. which is exactly when the sun broke through the clouds.

the whole weekend was unexpected and funny and fraught with potential disaster, but I had the most fabulous time. the pics are not up yet (many have to be developed and then scanned), but I will let you know when they are.

Like this post

Unlike

I’m scared. I’m scared and so deeply deeply sad for the fathomless capacity of man’s inhumanity toward man. There no longer seem to be any limits to what we will do to each other, in a time when causing pervasive fear and random chaos has become the ultimate tool of any group with a political agenda or an axe to grind. In a climate where recognition and respect for an otherwise fringe cause is proportional to the size of the violence it can perpetrate.

it makes sense when you apply it to al qaida or eta or the ira. but try it on for size with bush and israel and zimbabwe, and see whether the shoe fits as well?

and I am so fcking *mad* with the u.s. we pay all sorts of lip service to wiping out global terrorism, and yet constantly, insistently perpetuate it through our actions, leaving people bewildered as to why our “war on terrorism” is so clearly *not working*, failing massively, in fact, and at a mind-numbing loss as for what other approach to take. we don’t know any other way of thinking about it.

i don’t know how to live in this kind of world. *no one* knows how to live in this kind of world. and that’s why the strategy of fear is so effective. that’s why walking down the street in a major metropolitan city feels like being at the center of a giant bullseye. that’s why daily goddamn news reports of suicide bombers and masses of civilians dying barely register a blip on our mental radar. that’s why it’s so hard to remember that we didn’t always have that small permanent gnawing knot at the pit of our collective stomach.

there’s got to be another way to live. it’s just a matter of how long it will take people to wake up and cry out for something more than *this*…

Like this post

Unlike

the hypocrisy of the witchhunt for steroids in baseball just kills me.

is there a baseball fan out there, who, seeing the jose canseco’s and mark mcgwire’s of the past 2 decades, has not known, somewhere deep down, that steriods have been prevalent since at least the 80s? it may have gone unsaid, but it certainly did not go unnoticed.

for years, mlb declined to test players, primarily because they were afraid of the results. if you don’t want to know the answer, don’t ask the question, right? and now that someone has dared to put into words, baseball’s dirty little secret, you would think the mlb has been finally forced into dealing with it, and grappling with all the sticky questions which are bound to ensue: what about records which may have been felled, and stats rung up, by players “under the influence”? how does a sport which has marketed itself on the image of being largely “family friendly” deal with the fallout of the mixed messages being sent to children, and spin the sordid stories which will be spun? and most uncomfortable of all: who knew what, when? and did the league deliberately turn a blind eye in the hopes that the homerun heroics of recent years would help shore up the sport’s flagging fan base?

mlb’s attempt to sidestep these and avoid having the magnifying glass turned back on itself, by dealing with steriods as if they were in the same category as alcohol and drugs, is patently laughable, and completely incongruent with the nature of the transgression. “treatment” for the first offense, and graduated suspensions for subsequent offenses. Only after the 5th offense is a player suspended for a year. no mention of a lifetime ban, or disqualification from the hall of fame.

two points need to be made here:

a)a steriod user is not an alcoholic.

b)cocaine or vodka do not help you to belt a homerun.

barry bonds is only the tip of the iceberg, and accusations will start flying fast and furious the minute one idol of any real stature falls. mlb needs to give this matter the attention something of this gravity deserves, and stop pussyfooting around, hoping it will all blow over.

fans may worship at the altar of the home plate, but that doesn’t make baseball a sacrosanct religion.

Like this post

Unlike

hello again, dear reader!

spring is arriving quickly, and it just makes the mornings sooo much easier to bear. the weekend was very low-key and mellow, thoroughly relaxing. friday night, nick and i had a nice dinner, then i just stayed in and watched telly. saturday, at my behest, we went on a mission to the shopping centre in croyden, where i made a pilgrimage to a shop called “sweets from heaven”, specialising in american sweets! i’m far too embarrassed to admit how much i actually spent, but i am now fully stocked on marshmallow fluff, twizzlers, and peanut butter. i even found the holy grail – candy corn! i’m told i was actually jumping around in the shop, though in my ecstatic state, i don’t clearly recall. seems highly likely, though.

just when i thought it couldn’t get any better, on the way home i found a jewish deli with real honest-to-goodness dill pickles! the jar i bought, could be most accurately described as a small vat. pickles here just aren’t the same.

saturday night, went back to my flat, cooked dinner in and watched “city of god”, a gritty and unflinching true story about the street gangs terrorising the favelas of rio de janeiro. well worth watching.

sunday was lazy and chilled-out: a coffee, newspaper, breakfast-all-day kind of day. planned a road trip to idyllic cornwall over the easter weekend (!), which i am extremely excited about – it is supposed to be amazingly beautiful, and i’ve never been. also planned to go to the movies sunday afternoon, but that somehow never quite got off the ground, so went to the asian noodle bar “slurp” in streatham for dinner, which has much to recommend it being a)scrummy b)cheap and c)about 30 metres away from nick’s front door. the rest of the evening was all about watching the border collies fly around at the crufts dog show on television.

a delicious and delight-filled weekend.

Like this post

Unlike

hello friends and neighbours…

lots going on in the world, that i’d like to add my acerbic commentary to, but i’ve been deprived of my internet access except at work, so you’ll just have to imagine my rantings on your own.

on the plus side, it has been sooo nice having an actual *life* which is too full to worry (much) about the daily atrocities and outrages going on in the world, over which i have no control anyway.

i feel like i am on holiday!

anywhoo, i’m still in streatham, staying by nick’s place, although this weekend i am looking forward to laying low back at my flat and being cosy (angela is in paris).

lots to come in the coming few weeks, so stay tuned…

Like this post

Unlike

ahhh. it’s just one of those days.

one of those air-of-spring days where you wake up in a good mood, the coffee tastes a little sweeter, the sunlight has that soft diffused quality to it, there’s the faintest tinge of green everywhere, there’s a gentle veil of hazy optimism over everything, and all seems right with the world.

one of those days that make it worth getting out of bed in the morning.

had glassblowing last night, where i sweated and slaved over making 3 tiny multicolored beads, and (despite the fact that the black one cracked, as the instructor warned me it might) i am inordinately proud of them. working with the glass seemed to come a little easier last night, as you start to get a feel for how it behaves and flows and melds, and it feels a little less like wrestling with an unruly wad of gum and more like teasing and toying with a something surprisingly playful and alive. you begin to get a sense of how to draw it out, then rein it back in again, how to work with the molten gravity rather than against it. it becomes something with personality and character, as yet malleable and unformed, but just waiting for you to help it take the shape it wants to become.

as a child, i had a friend whose father was a chemist, and for my birthday one year, she gave me a vial of mercury. i played with it for endless hours, (incredibly dangerous now, i realise), but i was transfixed by its unique properties, mercilessly splitting the heavy quicksilver mass into millions of infintesimally tiny shining globes running to escape my grasp, then easily corralling them, capturing them back into the center where in the blink of an eye they lost their separateness, their individuality sucked back into the inexorable meld of the whole bright reflective orb. i was entranced.

working with glass reminds me of that.

i’m staying with a friend for the next few days, so blog updates may be a bit sparse. but i’m sure i’ll have lots to tell you about later.

Like this post

Unlike

is it a good sign or a bad sign if you end the weekend more tired than when you started it?

nah, it’s all good. Dinner and drinks Friday night at the Satay Bar in brixton, which lacks anything even remotely resembling ambiance, but makes up for it with a killer happy hour (pitchers of cocktails only £10!) and bountiful quantities of cheap yummy food. who needs candles and tablecloths when you can get drunk in a glorified cafeteria for a tenner?

Saturday started off pretty sucky with a queasy blinding migraine (no, it was *Not* a hangover!), and a reneged invite for a home-cooked meal, but improved vastly with a good indian dinner and a party at the telegraph (also in brixton). dancing, drinking, and partying, but had to leave somewhat abruptly… however, safe to say not a single person noticed the depature. crashed in tooting, and spent the better part of sunday morning struggling to overcome the powerful gravity force keeping me warm and cosy in bed, until I was finally lured out by the prospect of a hearty restorative fry-up, which did me a world of good.

it goes without saying the rest of sunday was pretty much a wash… although i did start researching (well daydreaming about, really) the trip to greece. that counts as productive, right?

the trees are very confused – took this a few days ago:

mondays – i wanna shoot the whole day down.

Like this post

Unlike