When you are tired of London etc.

So says the oft quoted Dr. Johnson and it is sort of true (I'm not including the Tube or Oxford Street as you get tired of those pretty damn quickly). Last night I walked past The London Stone (Roman), along Garlickhythe (Saxon), past St Paul's Cathedral (17th Century) and many, many post war office blocks (current). That's about 2000 years of history just on the way to buy tea bags. It's pretty amazing.

I'm actually staying right in the City, the oldest part of town, as you can see from the 'Where am I' map over there. I'm in an apartment backing onto the Thames with views of Shakespeare's Globe and the Tate Modern...at least I would have if the place hadn't been built in the 70s with slit windows. Brilliant architect that then. The City is an interesting place to be at the moment, with lots of very worried people in expensive suits wandering round all over the place. There also seems to be a load of building going on, all new offices and renovation of old places. Unfortunately there also seems to be an absolute glut of empty office space. And shops. Even banks. Why build more when there is loads empty anyway? It always seems like this, they start building in a boom and the offices are ready just in time for the recession. There is also a lot of renovation of heritage buildings going on (Charing Cross is covered in Scaffolding for example) and I worry that, with the lack of cash around now, these projects are going to fail and remain shrouded in sheeting for the next five years.

I also started the tourist bit yesterday. Went to the National Portrait Gallery to see an Annie Leibovitz exhibition. It's no wonder I never saw any of her work in the US as it all seems to be here. It was a bit steep to get in though at £11, not really worth it as it was all her latest pictures since 1990. I have to say that I wasn't that impressed. It all seemed a little obvious, The Queen at the end of her reign looking out the window at a sunset (get it?), dancers dancing on a beach etc. I did notice that the art galleries provide braille translations of all the notes on the pictures. Is this a little odd? Do a lot of blind people go to art galleries? I always assumed it was quite a visual medium. There was also an exhibition of portraits of British sporting heroes. I guess this was a bit of a challenge to fill, as illustrated by the inclusion of the British Olympic curling team.  Oh the shame.

 I also did a tour of the BBC Television Centre which was great. It's one of those places that is so iconic if you've grown up in the UK, seeing it on Blue Peter and hearing gags about the BBC canteen etc. It's also a beautiful bit of fifties architecture, all glazed tiles and hope for the future. It's also full of long curving corridors that look identical in every floor and must be a nightmare to navigate around. Apparently there are 8000 people working there everyday, a few more yesterday I expect, trying to sort out the chaos caused by Jonathan Ross and Russell Brand. Just sack 'em I say. If any other public servant left obscene phone calls on a member of the public's answer machine they would definitely be sacked. Especially one getting six million quid of licence payers money. Sadly I saw no celebrities only news readers (Brian Hanrahan and Huw thingy). We were told that Alan Titchmarsh was in the building and if we saw him to please not mob him. 

I would have thought he would have wanted us to.

Excuse me..pardon me..sorry..

The average Englishman's personal space extends about 2 metres from his body. Get inside this, if you're not a lover or a VERY close family member, and you are very privileged. There is however one place where this space shrinks down to less than a foot, in fact less than an inch sometimes. That place is on the Tube.

Yes, I'm in London and I've been re-acquainting myself with the baroque rules of London Transport. 

First is the seeming reluctance to run any trains on the Circle line. I have no idea why this is but every time you get to Paddington you spend about half an hour waiting for a Circle line tube train. Obviously it's a pretty quiet line, only serves the entire city in a big circle (see how the names work?). The problem is intensified by the fact that the District and Circle share the same tracks at Paddington. It's quite amusing to see all the tourists getting on the train, then leaping off as the doors close when someone points out it's a District/Circle train and they really need a Circle/District train. Did I mention I've done this a couple of times today already?

The next is never ever lean against any glass or shiny surface as these will invariably be smeared in the head grease of the previous 400 passengers. Does no one in this city wash their hair? There must be thousands of visitors who think that the whole of the London Underground system is in soft focus, such are the layers of grease on all the windows of the Tube.

Thirdly always check any announcements and notice boards before you board the train as the station staff will almost certainly give any highly important information just as the doors close on your carriage or the train guard will make them just as you get off the train. Actually it doesn't matter as you wont be able to understand them anyway.

Don't panic every time someone with a backpack and a beard gets onto the train. You'll probably be fine, it's just all part of the gamble of living in London.

Escalators are a minefield. Just remember KEEP RIGHT if you are standing as the locals will be thundering down the left side of the steps and will not take kindly to having some confused Australian backpacker getting in their way. Not that they will say anything, this is Britain after all, but there will be some serious muttering, letters to the Daily Mail and sharp in-taking of breath behind you. Also do not, under any circumstances, stop at the top of the escalator to read your map. This could lead to violence being committed upon your person (this also applies to shops and lifts). Don't roll pennies down the space between the hand rails either. This just tells everyone you're a dickhead.

Try to avoid travelling between 4.30 and, ohh, say about 6.30. This is the rush 'hour' and it's worse torture than even the CIA could come up with. This is when the personal space drops to less than an inch as you are crammed into a carriage with thousands of other travellers, eyeball to armpit. It's a nightmare. Especially when you realise that you are at one side of the carriage and the door to your platform is on the other. Trying to get out of a tube train in this situation is like being born all over again, you are squeezed through a tiny opening until you're ejected, damp and sweaty (and some time bloodied) onto the platform.

This is usually when you realise you should have caught that district line train after all.

Mr Pot, meet Mr Kettle

Quote of the day from the BBC website;

"People don't like being preached at" - Steven Green of Christian Voice condemning atheist posters on London buses.

The British Humanist Association is planning to display the slogan "There's probably no God. Now stop worrying and enjoy your life" on the side of London buses, eliciting this paradoxical response from avowed Christian Steve Green.

Security Theatre

I'm not a fan of airport security. I think it's a sham and a waste of time.

I'm not alone, just read this interesting article by Jeffrey Goldberg of The Atlantic.

An American left-leaning journal, who'd have thought it?

Go East

As some of you may know I spent 3 years living in Norfolk before I went to live in Australia. You may also know it was the most miserable 3 years I have ever spent.

Don't get me wrong, Norwich is a pretty town, all mediaeval lanes and ancient market places, old churches and pubs. But it is a strange place to live. It's only 120 miles from London but feels a lot further. It's insular and the people are not the most welcoming I've come across. I spent 3 years with basically no friends and no life outside work.

So it was a bit strange to be back there this week. The feeling of dread when I drove past Thickthorn roundabout was palpable. The tight feeling in my chest when I walked into town was unpleasant to say the least. And weird because I knew I was only visiting, not staying this time. Does anyone else get this when they go back to a place they have had unhappy times in? Do normal people slip into depression just because they are in a specific location? Maybe it's just me.

You might wonder what exactly I went back for if I disliked the place so much. Well it was to meet up with the people who kept me sane during my time there, and it was great to see them. I have missed them more than I thought (and I'm not just saying that because I know Philip will read this). They are really the only reason I stayed there so long, as I actually liked going to work. So thanks for keeping me sane(ish) we must keep in touch more (I've said that before as well).

Norwich itself has changed a lot since I was there in the late nineties, infact it's changed a lot since I was there four years ago. New houses everywhere, new trendy buildings in town with the library and the BBC in them, new hospitals, new roads and (as this is the UK and our entire economy depends on people buying stuff they don't really need) a new shopping centre. It's called Chapelfields and used to be the old chocolate factory and is pretty flash. It's also the only mall I've ever seen with a graveyard in it. It's been built on and around St. Stephen's (I think) Church and never have I seen the sacred and profane so close together. Now they just need to teach the staff in the shops about customer service instead of how to treat the customer like an inconvenience. It was like being back in Kalgoorlie.

On my way back from Narrich I stopped in at the Secret Nuclear Bunker at Kelvedon Hatch, Essex. Actually it's not that secret now, in fact all the signs for miles around have "Secret Nuclear Bunker" written on them. So not secret at all then. The place was built in the fifties in a farmers field and finally shut down in the early nineties when they decided that we weren't going to be nuked by those Commies in USSR (mainly because there weren't any any more, see how your tax dollars go to pay these brilliant analysts?). It's the weirdest, creepiest and most interesting place I've been to in a long while. To walk around and see the long blast proof entrance tunnel (designed so the inhabitants could shoot any survivors trying to get in) the BBC studio (to tell the population what to do to survive i.e. not much) the planning sections and the office of the regional controller (whose first order would have been for the euthanizing of all disabled, elderly, sick and injured members of the public) was like stepping into the past to see a future that never happened. Thank God. 

Apparently after the bombs went off this would have been the site of central government, linked to a network of other bunkers around the country. The Prime Minister and head of the armed forces would have been here, along with 600 other civil servants and military staff, for at least 3 months keeping the country running. This does beg the question "running for what?" but no one ever seems to have asked what the point of it was if when you came out the entire country was destroyed and radioactive. The oddest thing is that this all seems like ancient history now, but I can clearly remember the Protect and Survive pamphlet that the government sent round in the 80s. This was full of great information on how to survive the nuclear blast. By sitting under a kitchen table with a mattress on the top seemed to be the best way for the public. Strange then that the politicians had a bunker with 3 metre thick walls to protect them, by their own advice all Maggie Thatcher needed was a table in Number 10 to hide under.

If you want to read the pamphlets they are here

If you want to see the videos a couple are here and here

(The National Archive has actually got loads of the Public Information films that I remember from when I was a kid. They were mostly really creepy. Especially this one about drowning.)

Credit Crunch

So as far as I can understand the "rescue package" (or "let's save our really wealthy mates so that we can all get lucrative directorships when we retire from politics plan" - can you tell where I stand on this?) seems to involve the poor and struggling tax payer lending money to the rich and powerful bankers so that the rich and powerful bankers can lend the money back to the poor and struggling taxpayer at debilitating rates of interest. Brilliant!

That'll really teach the City to be responsible in the future won't it: 

"I say Tristan, I hear you lost a billion on the money market?"

"Yeth, but it'th ok becoth that lovely Gordon Bwown hasth pwomised to give me even more monet to looth!"

"Gosh, how super! Fancy a slap up dinner on the company account?"

I know that we 'have' to save the banks as we 'depend' on them as we have absolutely no other way of making the economy turn, as everyone seems to live on borrowed money, but why does the tax payer take the hit when thing's go wrong but never seem to share in the multi million dollar bonuses when things go right? It's an amazing thing to see the Tories and Labour party suddenly becoming great fans of nationalisation again. If only they'd buy back the water, electricity, gas and telephone companies and do us all a favour.

I have noticed though that people really aren't buying stuff in the shops at the moment, we went to Bristol yesterday to visit the new half billion pound Cabot Circus shopping centre and the shops were pretty much devoid of shoppers. Lots of people looking around but no one shopping. This does not bode well. It's also a bit frustrating to see the house prices droppingin value like Guy Ritchie's divorce settlement in the UK while they seem to be still going up in Western Australia. Where I have to buy one. 

It would be cheaper for me to come back and live in the UK now, and I never thought I'd be able to say that.

Burning 'balls

I've discovered a fascinating fact:

Never take out your contact lenses after chopping chillies.

I may be able to see again eventually.

Oh Flower of...

Scotland. Obviously. I've just, in fact, got back from Edinburgh and it's a really pretty place in a dark and grimy kind of way but it's all slightly unreal. Going there is like visiting "ScotlandLand - the tartanest place on Earth™". The whole place is full of tartan shops, tartan mills, whisky shops and saltire souvenirs all aimed at taking money off Americans and Canadians with their 'scotch' ancestors. The only people I saw buying kilts were tourists (yes I did go and have a look at the tartantastic range of goods). It's a pity it is such a parody of itself as it is a really beautiful city but it has no soul, you have to go to Glasgow to get that. Maybe if you get out of the main part of town there is more real life to see but the Royal Mile and Princes street I'd give a miss. 

Saying that, the Castle is spectacular and much older than I realised, there's been fortifications there from the stone age, and it's still an operational British Army barracks. I found out that Scottish regiments only stopped wearing kilts in to battle in 1940! Apparently trousers offered better protection. Protection from what they didn't say - thistles in the wedding tackle presumably. The visit to the fortifications was slightly spoiled by the Clannad being played in the Castle café. This is a constant nightmare in Scotland; wherever you go there's bloody bagpipe music. A little I can cope with, a bit of amazing grace with the massed pipes and band of the Scots Guards I can understand, but constant and loud bagpipes in every shop and on every street corner can be terrifying. Even if they are doing AC/DC covers.

The one thing the Scottish do have going is their national pride, they are all very proud of being Scottish. In the long run this may not be a good thing, as I've said before, no good comes from nationalism, but at the moment it seems to do no harm. Mainly lots of flag waiving, massive consumption of Irn-Bru and the local TV stations trying to find the Scottish angle to any story, no matter how tenuous (for example the Queen Elizabeth II - the ship not the monarch - is being sold to be a hotel in Dubai, but it was on BBC Scotland as she was built at Clydebank - in Scotland). But it could turn nasty as the rest of the UK already have to put up with a Scottish Prime Minister (who's not particularly popular), the Chief Minister of Scotland banging on about secession, the Scots getting a better NHS (more free stuff) better education (more free stuff) and cheaper public transport. All being subsidised by the majority of the population who don't happen to be in Scotland. I'm sure I'll get comments about how the Scots can look after them selves and that they don't need English money, "we're a proud independent race" etc. etc. but the truth of the matter is the population north of the border is tiny and the Scottish Parliament spends a lot of English and Welsh money. We'll have to see where it all ends.

All that said it is a beautiful place to visit but the weather can be a bit challenging. I thought I was pretty pale but you haven't seen white people till you've seen a Scotsman in winter.

Peaky

I am still here, just been a bit ill for the last couple days.  I'll update tomorrow and let you know what's been going on.

Shattered Idyl

Well I've posted some more pics from around my folks house. It looks like the perfect, idyllic english countryside.

More photos

What you can't see, and what I'd forgotten about, are the RAF Tornados flying over at 500 feet every now and then. Bit of a shock that.

M*Beth

Lenny Henry is playing Othello. With a Brummie accent. I have to see that.

Here is the 'news'

Comedy gold? :

Yaou Yaou

The best thing about visiting Birmingham is that everyone there seems to be taking the piss. 

Actually it's just that accent, no matter how glamourous the shop assistant, or how posh the shop, it's just impossible not to smile when they say "Are yaou awroight thear or wood yaou loike sum 'elp?". The call centre people should take note, it's impossible to get cross with a brummie.

It is however possible to get cross with Birmingham. Ok so it's no longer the industrial wasteland it was and the Bullring is almost, in fact totally, unrecognizable from the late 80s, when it was a concrete wasteland full of junkies and pound shops (which surprisingly isn't mentioned on the visitors boards all over the place there, just the 'historic' pictures of the 1900s) but the place is a nightmare to drive round. I think we ended up driving through New Street Station just to get to the damn Bullring car park. How the hell you'd find anything there without GPS is beyond me. See I knew I'd bought it for a reason.