Life in London

We've been home - II

2008-01-21T14:41:00.001Z

We've been home I

2008-01-21T14:27:00.001Z

Mi Nu Vue

2007-10-04T14:47:00.000+01:00

I is still alive.

I know, I know......

2007-08-15T09:34:00.000+01:00

But I can't face this. Bloody weather. At least we have Valencia in September to look forward to. Days of 23C! How will we cope?

On a brighter note, John's going down!!!!! And my self-imposed exile may be over. Maybe I should have used my years in the wilderness to write a book, or at the very least a pamphlet. If Maxine McKew wins John Howards seat of Bennelong, I will send her flowers. I loved her when she was on the ABC.

In other bleeding-heart liberal news, I am abandoning my inherent dislike of Australian Male Cultcha and going to see Damien play his last football match tomorrow. Here is the team list (seriously):

South London side:

FB: Marty Chadders Jezza
HB: Conrad Dicko Scotty
C: Birdman Speersy Chocka
HF: Naughto Saundo Crabs
FF: Youngy Matesy Hollers
Rucks: Benny E Pos BJ
Bench: Patty, Frank, Oli, Goody, Lukey M, Sac

I am pretty sure that Lukey M and Frank are only on the bench until they can come up with decent nicknames. This will be the third year running that Damien is playing his last game, so I am slightly sceptical, but we will be having a picnic and (possibly) drinking white wine, so it shouldn't be too unbearable.

So a bit of a catch-up is in order, I have been slack, for various reasons too mind-boggling uninteresting to go into here.

A few interesting things (well, interesting to me, if you don’t find it interesting, you can leave this blog now J ) have happened the last few weeks. Miss Bernie was on a three-week trip to our sodden shores. I was lovely to see her - she is always such fun, and is always generous with her hair. Paul, Bernie and I went for fish and chips (and champagne! How louche.) at the Golden Hind. Bernie revealed that Lucy has been frequenting the Golden Hind. I was stunned – Oi Knowles! Hands off! It’s our restaurant, not yours! Paul, myself, and Simon and planning on reclaiming it next week.

We also had a big night out with Miss B in London’s so distressed it’s trendy East End. A big group of us met up at The Commercial. It’s a pretty cool pub – more bar than pub, but I really liked it. I suppose that’s not all that surprising as Maria who runs the ‘Friendly Society’, also owns the Commercial. And it’s very Fitzroy. Lucy and Brock were there, as was Mark, Jari, Stuie,and Simon. We ended up in some random curry-house for dinner, then hit a few more bars. Paul and I ended up sharing a taxi home in the wee hours with Lucy and Brock, after standing in the rain for 20 minutes (note to self: must always carry umbrella).

Last Saturday saw my contribution to the Summer of Food ^{tm reg}. We met Damien and went to Hakkasan. It was lovely. Really good food and the fitout is very sexy…. We then went to a party in London’s what-do-you-mean-it-was-bombed-in-the-blitz-it-looks-like-it-was-bombed-30-minutes-ago East End. The party was fun though.

Brighton Pride was on - it is responsible for changing my opinions on both kilt-wearers and blackberry users.

We did our normal beachside lunch, then went to the park. We amanaged to get an earlyish train back to London, then Paul and I set about cutting Damien's hair. I reckon we did allright.

Here comes the water

2007-07-25T16:41:00.003+01:00

The Evening Standard is never one to overstate a crisis......

A brace of birthdays

2007-07-24T09:15:00.000+01:00

So this is about 2 weeks too late, but I suppose late blogging is bettter than no blogging. We had the lovely Matthew's birthday dinner at Tamesa the other night, then we went roller skating. Tres retro. I am not sure, but I think Matthew might be gay. Paul certainly hopes so.

Then the Saturday before last (yep, get your Kylie/Aussie Rules footballers calendars out to figure out which Saturday), we had Don's birthday - complete with Brazilian waiting staff. I thought they melded into the crowd quite well in their roman slave outfits. Not that I noticed them.

We've also seen some films! And they were both French (see - I can do highbrow, too!). The first was 'Tell No One (Ne le dis à person)', which I really enjoyed. It was different to see a non-hollywood action/thriller. It must have been good because Paul attempted to exceed his 3-question quota ('Why is he doing that?' etc etc). I wasn't having any of it though. If you let them exceed it once, they'll only try to raise to four and before you know it, you'll find yourself with a 7-question limit at movies. I gave it 8.5/10.

The very next night (two films in two nights, imgaine how much we spent on popcorn, enough to buy a small flat in Melbourne!), we saw 'La Vie en Rose' (apparently so good, it doesn't need to an English translation for it's title). I didn't really rate it, (6.5/10,purely for the acting of Marion Cottilard), but it was worth it for 'Non, je ne regrette rien'. It's a song that unfortunately will forever be associated with a Nescafe ad in Australia for me, but it's still fantastic. I remember studying the lyrics in my short-lived french classes. Here they are (thanks to this) and apologies for the apalling layout. Heres a clip of Edith Piaf singing it live:

Non, je ne regrette rien

Non, rien de rien
Non, je ne regrette rien
Ni le bien qu'on m'a fait, ni le mal
Tout ca m'est bien egal

Non, rien de rien
Non, je ne regrette rien
C'est paye, balaye, oublie

Je me fous du passe

Avec mes souvenirs
J'ai allume le feu
Mes chagrins, mes plaisirs

Je n'ai plus besoin d'eux

Balayes les amours
Et tous leurs tremolos
Balayes pour toujours
Je repars a zero

Non, rien de rien
Non, je ne regrette rien
Ni le bien, qu'on m'a fait, ni le mal
Tout ca m'est bien egal

Non, rien de rien
Non, je ne regrette rien
Car ma vie, car mes joies
Aujourd'hui, ca commence avec toi

No, nothing.
No, I regret nothing.
Neither the good done to me, nor the bad;
to me, they're all the same.

No, nothing at all.
No, I regret nothing.
It's all paid for, swept away, forgotten;
I don't care about the past.

With my memories,
I've lit a fire.
My sorrows, my pleasures,

I need them no more.

Swept away are my loves
and all their tremors.
Swept away forever.
I start from scratch.

No, nothing really.
No, I have no regrets.
Neither the good done to me, nor the bad;
to me, they're all the same.

No, nothing.
No, I regret nothing.
Because my life, because my joys,
today, begin with you.

And then this Saturday we saw Shrek 3 - it managed to keep my attention for the length of the film, and the kids seemed to like it. I'd give it a 7/10. We saw it in Ipswich, which provided possibly the best argument I've seen so far against first cousins marrying.

Too busy to blog, but

2007-07-09T15:12:00.000+01:00

Stuie's birthday goes off with a bang.

But Gay Pride was a damp squib.

Paris Comes to London Business School (or was it Collins St, Melbourne?)

And London's gone smokefree!!! But as the Guardian points out (and we found out Friday night), aren't people a bit whiffy.....

I prefer to holiday in Spain, not Switzerland

2007-07-08T17:27:00.000+01:00

Go Rafa!

It all kicks off (The Summer of Food, that is)

2007-07-05T15:06:00.000+01:00

The Thursday before last, the first official event of The Summer of food ^{(tm reg)} started, so it was only fitting that the weather was about 19C, cloudy and showering for the vast majority of it. Damien, Paul and I met at London’s Waterloo International (soon to be replaced by St Pancras International) to catch the 20:15 Eurosta to Paris. In ‘leisure select’ class, no less. Having travelling by business class recently, the only differences between the two iare the name, the dulcet tones of American tourists (’Hey! Where are you from? We’re from Missouri!!’) and a much higher proportion of manmade fibre.

I love the Eurostar. It eliminates the long trip to the airport, the waiting around and the buying of aftershave you don’t particularly need. The trip itself is so much more civilised, and you don't get off at the other end feeling everything you’ve drunk in the last week is being sucked out of your pores by the airconditioning.

By the time we had finished out complimentary champagne(!), we were speeding towards Paris. The section of track from Waterloo to somewhere in the middle of Kent is so embarrassingly slow though. It’s the European rail equivalent of training wheels. That will all change when the high speed line is finished in a few months. (And it’s only taken 13 years to build). Call me a socialist if you like, but I’m a great believer in government investment in infrastructure, and don’t see why lower taxes for for high-income earners or for private equity funds in the city (5% they pay!!) should be a priority, while a worthwhile project like this takes years to complete.

So we were in Paris by 11pm, and in our rented Marais apartment by 11:30. And out for a drink by 12:30. (Someone wanted to unpack). What’s not to like about that?

Friday morning I went on the croissant and pain au chocolate run while the two sleeping beauties lay in bed. After the coffee, orange juice and pastries, we were off to the Hotel Balzac. For a very long lunch at the 3 Michelin-starred Pierre Gagniare. I am not quite sure what makes a 3-star restaurant, but the service was exemplary and the food was excellent. We had (amongst other things) the most gorgeous bottle of burgundy. Burgundy is the new Jacob’s Creek. You read it here first. We were slightly worried about the fate of the waitress who poured some red into Damien’s white wine glass. We didn’t lay eyes on her after that and we think she may have been guillotined.

The rest of our time was spent wandering around the Marais. Most of my time was spent watching Paul and Damien shop. I also spent a great deal of my time making coffee and buying pastries for breakfast. But I’m not bitter at all. I quite enjoyed going out and trying to find a better boulangerie every day. Paris is so beautiful that just walking around is pleasure enough.

Our apartment was a little 'Moulin Rougue'-esque garret in the the Marais - it was up six flights of stairs (125 of them!). And did we know it a couple of times. But it did have a lovely terrace with views over to Montmatre in one direction and the Pompidou Centre in the other. It also had quite detailed instructions on everything, even down to expected toilet etiquette. I kid you not. And I thought my boyfriend was anal.

Saturday we met up with some French boys we know for dinner and then a bit of a dance – as you do. It was fun. So much fun that we met them again on Sunday night for something to eat and a walk around Pigalle, where we were abused in French for being gay. Nice.

Monday morning there was just enought time to fit in another lunch, this time of fillet steaka nd sauteed potatoes for us all, washed down witha 7-y-o bottle of St Emilion. The Bordeaux cost what we'd normally pay for a bottle of plonk in London. So unfair!

J'adore

2007-06-27T16:54:00.001+01:00

The excitement is all too much for me

2007-06-27T08:49:00.000+01:00

Tony checks out - in the end he was devisive, but I think life in Britain is so much better than it was 10 years ago. Blair has cemented the politics of this country to the centre left, so hurrah for that. People here now believe in spending money on public sevices, equality and fairness is entrenched and even the Tories now realise they'll never get elected again by following right-wing policies. So I'm thankful at least for that.

And if it's June, then it must be time for Britain to go Tim crazy. Wimpleton won't be the same without him.

A weekend on the tiles

2007-06-26T14:15:00.001+01:00

It's All About the Water 3

2007-06-21T12:25:00.000+01:00

Part of last night was spent on a boat.
More on that next week - tonight we're off to Paris on Eurostar for an official Summer of Food ^{tm reg} event. Hopefully no water will be seen.

See you next week!

Really?

2007-06-20T13:19:00.000+01:00

So London is the second most expensive city on the planet after Moscow?

No way! Not with a one-way tube-ride costing a mere £4?

Next they'll be telling us the Earth revolves around the Sun.

After something free?

Try the free films at the Pool of London - take picnic (and some booze!) and watch a film - it's a great night out. (It could even be made a 'Summer of Food ^{(tm reg)}' official event. We've been the last couple of years (last year to see 'Caberet'). Red Ken is putting on some excellent films, like 'Volver', 'Romeo and Juliet' and 'Breakfast at Tiffany's' . What's not to like about those?

See, I've saved you money already.......

Saturdays mornings are for Breakfast

2007-06-16T15:48:00.000+01:00

First get your brioche, eggs, strawberries and creme fraiche.

Beat the eggs and add some milk.

Cut the brioche, dip it in the mixture and fry it in some butter.

Add strawberries, some creme fraiche and some maple syrup. EAT.

OMG!!

2007-06-15T12:47:00.000+01:00

Whatever next??? Pretty in Pink the musical?

Lunchtime yesterday

2007-06-12T12:36:00.000+01:00

I thought I was at the top end of Collins St.

Imagine my surprise when people spoke French to me!

For Tomas

2007-06-11T22:56:00.000+01:00

TRAIN!!!!!

Beautifully Provincial.

2007-06-10T21:52:00.000+01:00

I am currently in Strasbourg for work. Again. I really like Strasbourg. Work not so much. This time I had to fly into Frankfurt. I don’t have much to say about Frankfurt. The plane was half empty on the way over, which perhaps is an indication of why I don’t have much to say about Frankfurt.

Instead of getting the plane back and spending all that time waiting around in airports, I've decided to get the train back. Carbon footprint and all that. I’m catching the TGV from Strasbourg to Paris, not just any TGV, but the fastest train on the planet (cue argument about which train is fastest). I am excited. I think that officially makes me a nerd. I’m pretty sure it doesn’t make me a train spotter unless I write down the number of the train. I am also going business on Eurostar (cheaper to London than the airfare), so my boss is sortof happy too.

This is the first time I’ve been here in the summer and it’s very beautiful – lots of forests, and motorways. The motorways aren’t beautiful, but they are through the forest and the forests certainly are. I saw a deer gambolling through the fields on the way from Frankfurt to Strasbourg, too. I was hoping to eat venison for dinner, but had to make do with a healthy salad of foie gras, smoked cured duck, and ham.

I saw one of those brown tourist route signs for the Maginot Line on the way here. I wasn’t sure if it was part of a larger tourist route for great defence failures of the past 100 years or not, but I suppose it’s certainly one way of taking a negative and turning it into a positive.

Saturday I had to rise at the ungodly hour or 4:50am (that was 3:50 by my poor UK body clock) and be at work by 6:00am. I was back in Strasbourg by 15:00, but absolutely knackered. I even had a nap to compensate. I went out to have a good look around and do some shopping, but my heart wasn’t really in it. Today was a lot better, but the whole conversion process was running late, so our project lunch was cancelled. The upside of that wasn’t all that bad, was I didn’t have to spend an afternoon with techies with no personality. It's about as appealling as having your teeth pulled without anesthetic.

Last night I got to eat with a colleague form our client company. He’s quite good fun, but I feel I have to be a bit guarded around him, so it wasn’t a lot of fun for me. And we hadn’t booked anywhere, so we had to settle for an ok restaurant, which just about killed me. My steak was fine, but the frites and vegetables weren’t great. Sigh. And there is great food here, it seemed like such a missed opportunity.

Anyway, today I got to lie in the sun, which was pleasant. I had a conversation in pidgin French with the nice baguette lady at lunchtime (‘Tu American?’ ‘Je suis Australien’ ‘ D’accord. Much better’ – ouch!), it turned out she was from the town where our factory is, so she was on for a chat. Somehow she spotted my weak spot and got me to buy an éclair as well, but I wouldn’t buy a Tarte au fruit rouge.

I was turned away from the Cathedral today too, as they were ordaining priests, and I think they thought the boys might reconsider their vows or something if I went in. (Actually they had bouncers and no-one who wasn’t wearing a suit wasn’t getting in).

I called into what I thought was the new Gare (railway station) for the TGV. In fact it’s just a new façade for the old staion, but underneath the station has been redone as well. It’s quite beautiful and a lovely piece of contemporary architecture.

Of course Strasbourg is all about Europe as well, and I was glad to see there was some room left for expansion here, all that's required is to remove the European flags, and add the new members.

Strasbourg is all very nice, but I have been a bit bored. Friday night at the restaurant I ate at, the guy on the next table was Australian. He was phoning a friend and telling them he had had enough of Strasbourg. I though he was crazy, but after 3 day here, I feel a bit the same, it’s very beautiful, but it’s quite small and provincial, nothing seems to be going on. Maybe I just expect too much?

The Cathedral is amazing though. It absolutely dominates the city and you can see why medieveal peasants would have been astounded by it. I think sometimes we've lost the ability to be astounded.

For Mia - A Pink Merry-go-round!!!!

2007-06-09T12:33:00.000+01:00

It still remains with me

2007-06-06T13:14:00.000+01:00

Bad blogger. I think - not much of note happened last week - or did it? It all seems to be work at the moment. I'm trying hard to figure out who's on the side of the forces of good in the new office and trying to keep everyone one side. I'm not entirely sure how if it's working at all, but I seem to be keeping my new boss happy, and he's the one who hands out pay rises, so here's hoping.

Last week seemed to be full of emails exhanging photos from Iz's birthday weekend. Mine are here. It was a lovely weekend, full of good food, lots of beer and wine, and nice people. Sperlonga was an excellent choice. The old town is closed to traffic, and the hotel was right in the centre of it all. Paul and I hadn't seen Harold and Sophie and Jean for ages, so we had a good catch up and we finally got to see Steve's house in Gaeta. I seemed to spend a large proportion of the weekend playing beach tennis with H and Sophie's boys, which was good fun. They are really nice kids, no tantrums or whining at all.

Iz and I went shopping in the Rome's Centro Storico Monday morning , ostensibly to find me a birthday present from the Romans. I had decided on a man-bag, so we spent the morning checking out stores around the Spanish Steps and Via Condotti. We didn't have much luck though, as I wasn't able to find the bag I wanted. I was a bit worried that Iz might have thought I was the world's fussiest shopper, but she probably knew that already. And it was nice to have her all to myself for the morning.

A few observations about Rome (or things I'd forgotten since living there):

Unfeasibly attractive shop assistants!! But I still didn't buy anything.

They've cleaned the turtle fountain - it used to be so grotty and grey!!

If we ever go back to live, I'd stack on the weight again - the food is just too good.

I'd forgotten that heat and how nice it is to be able to go to the beach.

It's just so beautiful

The rest of the week was spent freezing in the cold snap - my winter coat even made a reappearance. Mitch and Susie arrived back from Scotland and Amsterdam on Saturday. Paul and I went shopping and managed to find a manbag that met all criteria in Selfridges. We then caught up with Damien and Mark to see Jindabyne. I love Laura Linney. And she and Gabriel Byrne were outstanding. And the movie was very good (as you asked, 8.8/10). But it made me (and Damien) homesick. The birdsong. The bush. The laconic humour. It was very haunting and beautiful.

While we were watching that Mitch and Susie were watching 'The Lady from Dubuque', with Dame Maggie Smith (insert comment about national treasure/living legend here). Paul and I had seen it couple of months ago. I found it difficult to engage with, but Maggie Smith was excellent. Mitch and Susie really enjoyed it and then met us afterwards for a drink at The Edge. Which now has gogo boys on a Saturday night. How embarassment. We also saw our first fight (well - a bit of agressiveness and pushing, that's a fight for gay men) in a gay bar ever. Imagine.

Sunday I pumped up the bike tyres (Paul had to go to the shop to do his) and we cycled over to the ponds at Highgate for swim. It was lovely lying in the sun, but I believe it gave me a mild dose of hayfever. And I still hate swimming in that brackish water. I always think I'm going to get some weird stomach bug and die from internal bleeding.

Monday night Michael and Susie took us around the corner for dinner. It was so much fun seeing them again. Michael is such a nice guy.

Saturday mornings are for coffee

2007-06-02T11:55:00.000+01:00

With my new Gaggia coffee machine, my funky new coffee holder (courtesy of Louise and Jo for my birthday) adn my new coffe cups (from Stuie). Three of these and I'm able to face the world.

Look at that crema, I love my new machine.

Never Stand Between Me and Chocolate

2007-06-01T08:45:00.001+01:00

This morning I got up at the ungodly hour 6:00 to make my ~~world famous~~ nice chocolate brownie cakes. I only had Radio 4's Today show and our new red toaster (you can see it in the background) for company.

First I had to beat the butter and sugar until fluffy. I did it until I could smell smoke coming from the beater. I don't think it was designed to handle industrial quantities.

Then I had to add the flour, eggs and cocoa.

And mix all that in.

Throw the mixture into cake moulds and then in the muffinesque tray.

And 12 minutes later you have gooey chocolate muffin cakey things that you sell for charity at work. Easy!!

Italy is overrated.

2007-05-28T22:11:00.001+01:00

Things to be Happy about

2007-05-21T14:21:00.000+01:00

Italian Beaches

The Summer of Food ^{tm reg} continuing.

The Pet Shop boys in concert.

Paris in June.

Albarino - my new white grape variety of choice.

Whitewashed villages.

Nephews converting to Islam.

Working in central London.

Eurostar.

Highgate ponds.

Birthday Boy

2007-05-16T12:59:00.000+01:00

Monday night we went to Giraffe for Tom’s birthday. I can’t recommend it enough for taking kids. The staff there are great, going out of their way to accommodate children (crayons for colouring in, balloons etc.) and despite a few stares from the clientele when the kids were running around, nothing was a problem. Even the balloon I accidentally released into the sky was replaced. So my bad uncle status was redeemed. Again.

Tom was happy – wanting to clink glasses with everyone, and he even got to speak some Spanish. Mia was happy too, once she had told everyone it was her birthday in two weeks. Mia wasn’t allowing Tom to be the centre of attention for too long, you know.

Never stand between a small child and birthday cake.

Meet Barnaby

2007-05-14T18:42:00.000+01:00

But Georgia calls him Saddam.

Waiting for Guinness

2007-05-13T20:47:00.000+01:00

Spending my Inheritance

2007-05-09T21:39:00.000+01:00

"It won't be easy, you'll think it strange......."

Catalunya is not Spain, but I love it anyway......

2007-05-09T15:50:00.001+01:00

Medieval Streets!

Cute boys! ;-)

BBQs in May!

Michelin-starred restaurants!!

Beaches! (yes, Madrid has a river....)

Religion!

Oh Dear.....

2007-04-29T18:57:00.000+01:00

I had such a lovely day.

Brunch here.

Massage and facial here.

Party last night.

Then dancing here.

I had a really great day and am so lucky to have such a lovely boyfriend, friends and family.

And then today at lunch Ewan McGregor was at the next table - does it get any better than that?

More pics here.

Their cunning knows no limits.

2007-04-26T13:21:00.000+01:00

Monday night we met my family and went for quick curry (and a few pints!) in the heart of Banglatown, Brick Lane. Yes, yes, it's not the most authentic Indian experience in London, but it's close to Mile End (where my family are staying), so that's where we went.

Tom took this photo - not only can he talk the hind leg of a donkey - he also has a good eye for a 2 year old.

Ang and Div glamourously sped to Paris via the Eurostar yesterday, for some europleasure. They are staying at the Hotel les degres de Notre Dame (one of a select few to make it into Paul and my 'Affordable Charming Hotels in European Capitals' book, coming to a bookshop near you soon) and their room has a view of Notre Dame. No wonder they were going to bed early last night...

I love the Eurostar - I wish it went everywhere. I tried to go to Strasbourg when I had to go there for work, but it was going to take 10 hours. Now that the TGV from Paris to Strasbourg is running, I might see how I get on next time. Must reduce carbon footprint and save planet etc.

Last night I went over to see Tomas and Mia before they went to bed. I got to read Winnie the Pooh!! Another dream realised before I turn 40. Mia rubbed her cheek when I kissed her goodnight. 'Ow' said Tomas, when I kissed him goodnight. I know it's a cunning plan on their part to make me shave off my beard.

Still Spring

2007-04-23T15:17:00.001+01:00

Friday my family arrived from Australia (hooray!!). I went out to London's fabulous Heathrow Terminal 4 to pick them up (I am so looking forward to terminal 5 opening, bugger the planet, at least Heathrow will finally have a terminal building that poeple will want to spend time in). My brother-in-law is an aesthete, and expressed admiration for Terminal 4's style and grace. We got the train in to Paddington, and then the tube accross town to Mile End - it was a lot of fun travelling near Friday afternoon peak-time with two pushers (no, not drug-dealers, push-chairs) and five suitcases the size of small refridgerators. M y family were all in remarkable form after their 23-hour flight across the globe. I cooked some food for them and told amusing anecdotes about my life until they fell asleep.

Saturday we went for a walk along the Thames, just to blow the cobwebs off. It was beautiful and sunny.

Lots of people were taking advantage of the sun who perhaps shouldn't.

Mia got a bit carried away with the bubble man.

And the London Eye was packing them in.

The mother of all parliaments was sparkling too.

Saturday night I cooked some food for my family after I took my father for a quick pint of Guinness. The things I do for others.

Yesterday Mum wanted to do some Jude Law stalking, so we had a picnic on Primrose Hill. (Only after I cooked for the picnic - my family eat a lot). We saw lots of beautiful people, but my mother wasn't impressed. ("I think that tan's out of a bottle" she said.) My niece asked me to be a bear. I am trusting she meant the animal, not that I she thinks I'm fat and hairy.

More pics from the weekend are here.

Shoreditch is still the new Shoreditch

2007-04-16T14:20:00.000+01:00

The weekend was a bit busy - or at least Friday and Saturday were. Sunday Paul wasn't feeling very well.

Friday night saw us out farewelling a colleague of Paul's - Caroline - she is good fun. I get along well with a couple of Paul's colleagues, who for some reason find me amusing (imagine!), so I enjoyed myself. I am sure that I am probably even more amusing after 4 pints of Guinness.

Saturday I managed to get down to the gym around 9, and saw a very hungover Vicki, the gym manager. Seeing her suffering made me forget my hangover. I admire such selflessness in others.

I met Paul in town after doing some birthday shopping for him. Paul finally ended up buying some very cool Armani sunglasses. So cool he seems to be a bit shy about wearing them. I really like them though, and that's what's important.

There was absolutely no-one in the west end either, everybody was out enjoying the unseasonally hot weather. We had some texts from a friend who was up at the Highgate ponds, but the water temperature was only 51F (10C!), so there was no way we were heading up for a swim. All this warm weather in April is quite disturbing, I find strange for people to be sunbaking and swimming when they should be planning summer holidays.

Saturday night we met Damien at Loungelover. We had been wanting to go for quite a while, but we are never over in Shoreditch. Anyway, Loungelover might be uber-cool and really difficult to get into, but it is a really good bar. My God, the drinks are expensive though! £11 for a margherita! And I didn't even bat an eyelid - I think I've been living in London too long. But it was for Paul's birthday, after all. Because it is so uber-cool (Madonna had her 48th birthday there, and they employ eastern-europeans who can speak english), we were only granted a table for an hour. After that we had to rub shoulders with the plebs up at the bar. We stood under the stuffed Hippo's head. As we reached the bar, everybody sang Happy Birthday. Paul was very touched, until he realised it was someone else's birthday.

The pleasant thing about Loungelover was that although it is difficult to get into, and you may not have a table for long, the staff were more than helpful and affable, which is unusual for London. We had read a couple of bad reviews about attitude, but we didn't experience any of that. Do yourself a favour, as Molly would say.

Afterwards we went around the corner to the Great Eastern Dining Room for too much to eat and yet more to drink. This was another official Summer of Food ^{tm reg} event. Bizarrely, there was a group there who had been in Lounge Lover. The food was very good, the duck in particular was one of the best ducks I've had. I can still taste it.

Shoreditch is pretty cool - Paul still wants to live there (I think) - it's probably more us than St John's Wood, so we'll see.

Global warming is good for you

2007-04-14T12:15:00.001+01:00

24C in the middle of April, in London? What's not to like about that???

Stroke, stroke, stroke

2007-04-13T13:57:00.001+01:00

Last Saturday the annual Oxford - Cambridge boatrace took place. We were invited down to Barnes to lunch, then a group of us wandered over to the Thames to watch the finish. I think you can see how dejected the Oxford (Cambridge?) crew were to have lost the race. It could have been worse for them, last year was windy and raining, at least this year it was sunny. Who says global warming is all bad?

We took up our position near the dilapidated warehouse (and the finish line) you can see in the following photo. I had commented that the warehouse was 'ripe for redevelopment' to Paul, then not 10 mins later someone in our group was bemoaning the fact they would probably be turned into 'yuppie flats'. I didn't know that anyone still used the word 'yuppie'. And I don't see the problem with turning a rundown, unused warehouse into apartments, whether they're for the well-heeled or otherwise. Anyway I left the communist pig to entertain himself after that and chatted to my more affluent friends.......

I had been to the boatrace a few times (but never into the changerooms afterwards, like Paul has) and this year there seemed to be quite a lot more security. No doubt it was all part of the war on lycra. There were some threatening looking boats driving around - but they may have just been full of old dons, who knows?

Friday night, we had had Damien over for dinner, as part of the pre-summer-of-food. I cooked a duck. I didn't know ducks were so big! Does anyone have any recipes for leftover duck?

Sunday was Easter Sunday - I got a chocolate egg! Who would have thought?

Lunch on Saturday wasn't an official summer-of-food ^{(tm reg)} event, but that didn't stop it being very pleasant. The table was very diverse (Well as diverse as a group of 9 gay and one straight gay way). There was two Malaysian Indians, two Irishmen, two Englishmen, one Welshman, a Canadian, and Italian and an Australian. I think Paul got to use his 'Sometimes I think I'm the only English person in London' line. This line would be a lot more effective if Paul was Cockney, or even a Londoner, but he's not. I am more of a Londoner than he is. Oh, and last night I was told I was 'practically English'. I don't think I should have to sit the citizenship test.

Oh Happy Day

2007-04-12T17:31:00.000+01:00

This weekend my lovely boyfriend bought me a replacement Baby Gaggia coffee machine for my birthday! Look - it's beautiful!! And it's crema is beautiful.

Good Friday

2007-04-06T11:59:00.000+01:00

You'd never have guessed the house we stayed in last weekend was occupied by an Anglican priest.

Dead.

2007-04-06T09:24:00.000+01:00

My Gaggia has died after over 14 years of faithful service. I am suffering with caffeine withdrawal, but I'm sure that if I go without coffee on Good Friday, souls will be released from purgatory into heaven.

It was like another country.....

2007-04-04T18:53:00.000+01:00

Last Friday Paul and I flew to Glasgow for Paul’s old primary school friend’s wedding.

We had to pick up a car and drive to Dumfries and we stayed at this B+ B – it’s was an old regency-style house that is still part of the estate of Charles Stuart. I’m confused as to whether that is Charles I, Charles II, or Bonnie Prince Charlie’s estate. Anyway, it was a lovely old place, run by an Anglican priest David and his partner David. They had a Bichon Frise called Bertie, which was actually a lot more fun than it looked. I think I offended David and David by asking if it was poodle. Bertie escaped on the afternoon we left, so we had to chase him through the village, trying to get him to jump into the car.

David the priest was telling us about the history of the house – and how the land around the house was given to the Stuarts after the dissolution of the monastries. It’s incredible to think that someone would be handed all that land because of their friendship with royalty. Sweetheart Abbey originally owned of all the land in the estate and was destroyed as part of the dissolution.

I do like staying at bed and breakfasts, but to be honest, after 3 days of a full Scottish breakfast, I reckon I had consumed my egg and pork product allowance for the month. To top it off, we were given roast pork for dinner on Saturday night, which was delicous, but by God I was sick of pork by Monday morning.

Bizarrely, we were given a full airline meal on the way up to Glasgow and on the way back. It’s strange because my flights to Stuttgart which are about 2 hours, you’re lucky if you get a sandwich, sometimes it’s just a packet of ‘drink snacks’, but on the 50 minute hop from Glasgow to London, we were treated to real airline food. V strange.
Surprisingly, on the trip back I had two mishaps with my boarding pass. I dropped my first, presumably when I was subject to security for the sake of the war on handcream. After getting another printed, I then proceeded to drop that in the loo. Oh well.

We didn’t want to fly and tried hard to get a train up, but it was going to take about 9 hours, so we reluctantly flew and waved goodbye to several endangered species as we did.

The wedding was good fun – but quite small with about 40 or so people there. We did ceilidh, which reminded me of dances at secondary school (minus the student with bad BO of course). The Scottish guests were very patient with those of us who constantly got things wrong…..There were lots of ginger people there too, which was handy, as I’m to be surrounded by them in two weeks.

And so began the summer of food....

2007-03-27T11:58:00.000+01:00

Been a bit busy with work lately, which is good, but I am also having to do a bit of commuting to Winnersh, which takes up 3 hours of my day - ouch. So not a lot of time to blog. Spring has arrived again – which is great for people like me – not so good if you are a hay fever sufferer. But I’m not, and this blog is all about me, so we're not talking about hay fever.

What have we done lately? Paul, Damien and I went here, the second last night before it closed. It was good fun, and the food was excellent, if a little overpriced. When Damien first arrived in London, he used to deliver mushrooms there, so the night peppered with comments like ‘People say you can’t make it in this town, but I beg to differ’ etc.etc. We tried to engage the waitress in some banter, but she was having none of it. She was eastern-european, didn’t know who Gennaro was, and was rather severe. She reminded me of the Nanny(?) in Lead Balloon in fact. Jack Dee is a comic genius.

There was a surprisingly good Chilean wine tasting Damien dragged us along to last week as well. I say surprisingly good, because I associate Chile with sub-£5 quaffers and not so much with the quality end of the wine market. We tasted our way through some pretty good stuff – especially Pinot, (my wine of choice at the moment). I found there were still some pretty crappy ‘dirty’ wines, but the overall standard was very good.

Afterwards we went here, for a nice big dose of attitude from the Maitre’d. I suppose it was our privilege to wait for 40 mins for a table though. In the end, we declined our table, as we’d done it in true Spanish style and eaten (standing) at the bar. I then had a bit of a rant (to no-one in particular) about how there were two ways they could have dealt with us waiting – and we got treated the in the crappy, what-do-you-mean-you-want-to-eat-here way. But that service for you in London, I suppose. And by God they have good food.

Saturday we did some jobs and shopping in London’s overcrowded West End. But we found a haven of gastronomic excellence to eat at, and it’s cheapish! How did I not know about this! And we got to eavesdrop on someone’s wedding/hen’s weekend plans – double bonus.
Afterwards we were stopped by two chic French women, asking us where the new Abercrombie and Fitch store. I didn’t realise I looked so obviously ~~American~~ ~~buff~~ gay. I told them the wrong address. C’est la vie.

Happy to provide a service

2007-03-22T14:28:00.000Z

This blog get a few hits for Aussiebum underwear and swimming trunks. No, there isn't an Aussiebum shop in London, but you can buy them at Selfridges on Oxford St, or at the Prowler Stores in Soho. Or at their website - they ship worldwide you know!

Oh no it isn't!

2007-03-16T11:21:00.000Z

Sorry for the dismal effort in blogging lately, but I had to travel again with work, and am doing a big commute as well. Not good.

I found myself savouring the delights of the Franco-German anachronism that is Strasbourg again last week. It is very pretty and I had some great food again, but by God the people who I have to work with there are boring. And I mean terminally. But there were other highlights.

Like being greeted with a ‘Bonjour!’ upon leaving the toilet cubicle. Very friendly, but I don’t want people talking to me in the loo – he might as well have asked me if I enjoyed my crap.

I ate a cake at the airport! And had weizen beer!! The beer was very good, but the cake was disappointing (What was I expecting – I was in Germany) and what I thought was going to be a flaky pastry with lovely fresh glazed fruit topping it wasn’t. Instead it was a four inch high doughy cake thing with stewed fruit and jelly on it. Which would have been fine, but I don’t like stewed fruit or jelly. Oh well.

We went for flambe one evening and beer (!), and my colleagues entertained me with amusing stories. One particularly amusing one involved a colleague of theirs wearing jeans to the office one day. Oh, how we laughed. I think I reached for more beer at that point.

But I am still astonished by the canteen in Strasbourg – 3 courses for 7 Euro. And they serve up grub like Carpaccio of Scallop – and over here in the UK you’re lucky to get gammon and chips. While a very smiley French Agnetha from Abba lookalike (without the marital problems I hope!), serves on the checkout there, here they look like they have to go back to Holloway in the evenings.

Friday night we went into town for drinks and Kelly Osbourne was out - she said sorry to me when her drunk friend knocked me. I didn't mind, because I was drunk too.

There were lots of Daniel Radcliffe stalkers out too, trying to see him naked.

Last weekend we went out to the Essex/Suffolk borders again. It was sunny! We went to the beach!

This week has been an unseasonably warm 14C., but this is due to be replaced by snow on Sunday. I’m thinking of upping my carbon footprint in an effort to hasten the onset of spring.

Oh, and the sun is still rising. Sometimes it’s pretty.

Look, It's Spring!!

2007-03-14T15:53:00.000Z

Possibly London's most beautiful flower stall?

Sorry for lack of posts lately - have been away for work, so hopefully will get to blog again soon......

We survived our trip.

2007-03-02T14:13:00.000Z

Our plane didn't collide with another.

And the volcano didn't erupt causing the island to slide into the sea and a tsumani to wipe out the east coast of the US.

But, we did almost get airlifted from a beach by a helicopter. Seriously.
More disastrous photos here.

Ciao for now

2007-02-19T12:33:00.000Z

Friday night we had drinks for Tim. Tim managed the gym we go to and returns to Australia at the end of the week. He is such a nice guy. The gym was ok when he started a couple of years back, but he has improved it beyond belief. Tim is one of those guys who has such a sunny disposition all the time, that you can’t help be swept along with it. Clever, funny and articulate (not what you expect from your normal run-of-the-mill gym staff), he turned into a good friend as well.

So Friday we went out with Jacinda, Vicki and Tim to say goodbye. We got drunk, we were silly, we said goodbye. We’re going to miss him so much, but are already looking forward to catching up with him back in Australia.

Happy Chinese New Year From London

2007-02-16T20:20:00.000Z

I guess it's pretty lucky neither of us is rich, huh?

2007-02-12T16:04:00.000Z

Last Wednesday I met Paul and Damien at Barrafina in Soho. after I’d got back from Strasbourg. It has been getting great reviews and it was excellent - outstanding tapas, good wine and good service. I liked the fact Paul and Damien had to do the hour-long wait in the queue without me. I’d definitely go back and highly recommend it. It’s run by the people who run Fino in ‘Fitzrovia’, but is more of a tapas bar than restauarant, with a very long bar that you sit at to eat. All very Spanish.

So Spanish in fact, that the guy who sat down next to us felt the need to demonstrate his prowess with Castilian, and was chatting to the owner off and on. After a while he said ‘Excuse me, what are razor clams again?’. The owner picked one up from the bed of ice to show him. ‘Oh no, I know what a razor clam is. I meant I’ve forgotten how to say it in Spanish’. What’s Spanish for wanker?

After Barrafina, we went to see Dame Judi and ‘Our Cate’ in ‘Notes from a Scandal’. It was excellent, and funny in an odd way. ‘You sent her fiancé a wreath!!!’. As if. It was refreshing to see older lesbians portrayed in such a glamorous light, too. (After , ‘La Tournese de Pages’, this was our second lesbian-themed movie under a month – they’re like buses you know – you wait forever for one, then two come along at once. Boom boom.) Both Dame Judi and Cate had great roles. I’d give it an 8.8/10, despite the fact I heard some people moaning about Cate Blanchett’s accent when we were leaving. Please.

Most of our weekend was spent inhaling solvent-based paint fumes, while we finished off painting the window and skirting boards in the bedroom. We know how to have fun! Paul and I took a break Saturday night to go to a friend’s Titanic-themed birthday party on the Thames. Poor taste? Who’s to say? It was a good party and we made some new friends (we had to – we didn’t know anyone else there). We resisted the siren-song of Vauxhall clubs at 2am and called it a day.

Sunday night Paul surprised me and took me here to see this. .(Incidentally, Paul's brother Lee is in the video for the song, by the band Deep Blue). It was very sweet of him. I was trying to guess all the way where we were going, but had no ideaThe hotel has a Sunday night film club which is pretty good value. The idea is you have a three-course meal and then go downstairs to watch the movie – very civilised. The Charlotte Street Hotel is pretty cool – not uber-designer-cool, but very relaxed and comfortable cool. Good food and service too. The staff seemed to be all Hispanic as well - ‘What London was like in the good old days’, someone remarked.

Freude, schöner Götterfunken

2007-02-09T14:32:00.000Z

So, earlier this week I was in Strasbourg for work. It seemed a pretty town, although I didn't get to see much of it as my new boss is a bit of a workaholic. But I like her anyway, because she doesn't pull any punches. And she seems to think I'm doing a good job, so it's all good.

Strasbourg is where the European Parliament sits when it's not in Brussels, and so work was a model of European harmony and I felt no guilt whatsoever about only using 10 words of French whilst I was there. ( I was not as bad as an American at breakfast who, after looking at the waiter's badge, said 'M-a-r-c. How do you pronounce that? Oh, Mark?'. What do they feed them??!!)

I did draw the line at telling a colleague I was having difficulty understanding him because of his heavily accented French though. I'm not that insensitive. I also love a French accent, so tried not to stare dreamily at him too much. It was quite ironic to be working with some Russians, a Pole, some Germans, a Japanese and some French, especially considering just over 60 years ago we would have been tearing each other limb from limb.

One of the differences I did notice was absolutely no-one was in the office before 9:00 and everyone left at 17:00. (except for me and my boss of course - I had to drag her out at 18:30, after a 10.5 hour day) And everyone had lunch in the (delicious and heavily-subsidised) canteen for an hour. Which is a million miles away from the eat-lunch-at-your-desk and maybe take 30 minutes for it culture here. And don't start me on the coffee breaks.....

My self-control went out the window, it was all french pastries for breakfast and wine (Pinot! ~~Shiraz!~~ Syrah!) and steak at dinner. I even ate at a cheese restaurant one night (La Cloche à Fromages), where, as you'd expect, cheese featured heavily on the menu and I could feel myself piling on the weight with every mouthful.

I had to fly into and out of Stuttgart airport (look at this - why can't Heathrow be like this?). The taxi to Strasbourg sped down the autobahn at 180kmh in driving rain. Even though I was safely ensconced in the back of a big Mercedes, it didn't stop me praying all the way to St Diana of Windsor.

My train to Heathrow took 50 minutes instead of 15, because someone had jumped at Southall... people nowadays are so inconsiderate. I blame Tony Blair.

I had a little time to spare at Stuttgart Airport, so took the opportunity to have a nice cold German lager in the cockpit bar. It was nice.

Snow Mail Travel Chaos....

2007-02-08T12:31:00.000Z

Surely the headline for tonight's Evening Standard

A merry flag in the artic wilderness of my life.

2007-02-08T11:01:00.000Z

Sorry for the break in transmission - I have been without access to the google for a few days.

Last Friday, Paul and I joined Catriona and Chris at Covent garden for dinner and 'Il Trovatore'. Dinner was fine (not outstanding, but satisfactory - I think it's a sign of how good food now is (or people's expectations of it) in the UK. 10 years ago I would have said it was very good). And the opera was excellent - we splurged a little thanks to Catriona having access to good seats. The sightlines weren't fantastic, but the music was so much better than up in the gods where we have sat before. And it's always nice to go home without a bleeding nose.

As you know, I don't know much about opera,(except they're all tragic of course) but Marcelo Alvarez was in it - he was the tenor I saw in Carmen (and isn't he chunky closer up?). Stephanie Blythe was excellent as the gypsy Azucena, and Catherine Naglestad was very good as Leonora. well.

Winter is for Tulips

2007-02-02T09:31:00.000Z

I bought these for Paul last night, but I love tulips too........

Cake! Sweets! Toys!

2007-02-01T13:09:00.000Z

And that was just our Friday night..... As part of our winter of cultcha, Paul, Damien and I went to see Frost/Nixon. It was very good - I always enjoy going to see something where liberals are able to hiss from the cheap seats. I'd give it 8.2/10.

Then we went for a quick drink in Soho (where we ran into Giles and mate), which turned into another drink in Vauxhall (I know, I know.......). Saturday was quiet, that's all I'm saying.

Sunday we had Jamie's first birthday on, so Paul and I had the opportunity to use our new gold railcards (such glamour!) to get out to the Essex/Suffolk borders. It's nice to watch little kids get excited about some cake and sweets. There was champagne to get me excited!! The boys were all dressed the same though, so I couldn't tell them apart. Next year I'm taking name tags.

Oh and then we watched while the country seemed to be tearing itself apart over the whole catholic/gay adoption/discrimination thing - will the Catholic church never learn? Oh, I forgot, something about 'Love the sinner, hate the sin'. What about 'What would Jesus do?'...... you're either for or against discrimination. Sigh.

Better late than never, I suppose.

2007-01-31T15:18:00.000Z

This post is way overdue, but thought I'd post it anyway.

Management summary - Went skating, it rained, went to pub.

The day before NYE, we met Brock and Lucy and Mark and Angel to go ice skating at the Tower of London. Luckily the afternoon's incessant rain had stopped by the time we got there and the sky was clear. At least it was for 30 minutes or so it was. Then it p*ssed down. Lucy and Brock threw in the towel, but I was insistent that it would clear. Lucy told me I had lived in England too long. ("Chris, face it - we have crap weather" she told me.)

So we admitted defeat, got changed and then went for beers at St Katherine's Dock. Then the pub closed at 10:30! We were aghast - despite the fact that 24- Hour Licenses can be obatined, I know of only 1 pub/bar that's extended it's hours sinec the relaxation of licensing laws. So much for the downfall of British Society.

It's very cold....

2007-01-25T12:16:00.000Z

It snowed yesterday - but not a lot. I'm one of those annoying foreigners who thinks "Aaaah isn't it all pretty?", not 'Bugger. The tube/trains/buses won't be working again.' But it makes London look beautiful in winter.

It’s Always Christmas in the West End.

2007-01-24T12:45:00.000Z

Last Thursday I met Stuie for a quick drink in London’s bohemian Soho after work – and the walk for me from my new office at Great Portland St to Soho was less than 20 minutes! What’s not to like about that! Paul and I were going to Avenue Q, (tix a Christmas gift from Stuie) – so when Paul joined us we went to Browns (haunt of Alistair Appleton and that girl from the Sound of Music) to take advantage of their pre-theatre menu.

Avenue Q was good fun – not as rude or subversive as it’s been made out to be, but we both enjoyed it anyway. I was surprised Paul said he’d go again, but he’s entitled to his own opinion (generally) - I’d give it a 7.8/10. There were some good songs (that’s funny good, not catchy tunes), like “Everyone’s a Little Bit Racist”, “The Internet is for Porn” and 'The More You Ruv Someone (the More You Want to Kill Them)', but at times it was a bit like watching an adult ‘Sesame Street’.

Friday night I was out drinking again as Paul had his work Christmas party. I could have stayed in I suppose, but where's the fun in that? I met up with Stuie, but the drinks went to his head and he left early. He left not long after Paul had joined us brandishing his go-karting trophy. Paul was most distressed to only have come third (he is the best driver in his family, you know). We spent some of the night chatting to a nice lesbian from Melbourne and her Kiwi friend - they were good fun.

Barcode Soho was on the way home, so we called in for a swift pint – I had forgotten that Mark and Matthew were going to be there, so that delayed us further. Our friend Eduardo works at Barcode, so when he finished work, we all went to the Escape Bar for a small dance. I chatted to an American intern who is working for a conservative MP here. She was trying to reconcile that with her being a Democrat. She was out with a friend and they's only been here a week, which meant I spent an hour ~~boring~~ giving them tips on London, now that the pound is worth $A2 …..

Saturday I foolishly spent an hour on the phone to my sister, who has just booked her tickets to come to the UK in April. Foolishly because I should have been getting ready to go meet Paul’s Mum and his Aunt Daphne for our ‘Golden Girls’ lunch. Paul headed in early and I followed, met them in Fortnum and Mason for a coffee, then ~~Patsy and Edina~~ Julie, Daphne, Paul and I went to Quaglino’s for lunch. It was very good – last time I was there I wasn’t impressed, but this time the food was spot on. It’s still very much a big Terence Conran 90’s restaurant, but it’s almost retro in style now.

I didn’t take my camera, and forgot about my phone, so you will have to go without pictures. Those of you on dial-up will no doubt be delirious.

Monday night we stayed in and watched ‘Cinema Paradiso’ which was very seductive. I found it to be a bit too sentimental and simplistic, but it was beautifully shot. And quite humorous in parts. I loved it just for the cinematography. I’d give it 7.6/10.

Never cross a foreigner......

2007-01-18T13:53:00.000Z

Tuesday night, Damien, Paul’s new best-friend Sue, Paul and I went to see ‘The Page Turner’, at the Curzon Cinema in Monopoly's most expensive real estate, Mayfair. I'd probably class the film as a thriller with some comic touches, but I’m not entirely sure if it was supposed to be comic. Lots of French brooding in it too. The young female lead Deborah Francois was excellent, very sweet, yet menacing and Catherine Frot is beautiful in it, exuding French style through every pore….. And Mum would think Pascal Greggory was pretty dishy as well – he’s a sortof gallic Christopher Plummer. I gave it 7.2/10.

After the film we went to possibly London's only Polish-Mexican restaurant. They have flavoured vodka!

We only made it a block

2007-01-15T17:02:00.000Z

It was a fairly quiet weekend, which befits a mid-January weekend, I think. Friday night we watched this. Which wasn't either as good or as bad as I thought it would be. Peter Bradshaw had it as his film of the year, but maybe it's one of those movies you need to see on the big screen. Anyway, it wasn't anywhere near as mawkish and gung-ho as I'd feared, but I suppose I took issue with a film depicting events that we know nothing of.

Saturday was a day for doing important jobs like choosing a new colour to paint our bedroom. After trying five, we think we've settled on one, now we just have to buy it and get stuck in. Then there’ll just be the kitchen and lounge to go, and then it will be time to look for somewhere else to move to!

Our (young!) friend Giles turned 30 last week, so Saturday night was his party. We almost didn’t make it, as the Kylie comeback concert was being broadcast on Channel 4 and let’s face it, it’s every gay man’s dream to be Kylie’s wardrobe assistant (either that or dresser for her dancers). But we couldn’t let Giles down, so out to deepest darkest Watford we went. We had fun, mainly because Chris and Ronald were there, and we hadn't seen them for six months or so. It was a funny sort of party - Giles has a straight twin brother, so there were a few people there eager to impress on you the fact they were 'cool' about the whole gay thing. Like we cared.

Sunday I was awoken by the dulcet tones of my father's voice at 9:30am. God, don't old people think anyone else ever sleeps? Dad was kind enough to let me go back to bed, and I rang them back around 11. I decided to have a mini-detox, using products we’d hadn’t actually bought ourselves. There was this facial wash, then this scrub (both from Julie), then this body wash from Damien and then a rosemary sea-salt scrub from Bernadette. People say it’s better to give than receive, but all that receiving felt pretty good to me. Luckily, I didn't include stolen products, or I would have been in the bathroom all day.

It was such a nice day, we thought we’d go into town to the British Museum. It’s one of those places in London we never go to, just because you know it’s always going to be there. It generally has some pretty interesting exhibitions on too, things like ‘Empire and Theft – 50 treasures stolen because the natives couldn’t be trusted to look after them properly’.

But first we popped into the pub around the corner to see if we could hire a room for my birthday this year. Because it was local and we know the food there is good, we thought we’d give it a try. The manager there was really nice – which was justification enough for our decision – he couldn't do enough for us, got us tasting wines we could have at the party etc. etc. We ended up staying for roast lunch (£12.00 for half a corn-fed chicken - what's not to like about that!) and didn't actually make it into town. Oh well, the British Museum will still be there next weekend.

The whole local pub thing we think is a good idea, mainly because we really like the shops near where we live, and we’d rather give our money to some local businesses, instead of some bar in central London who doesn’t look after you because it will be full of punters next week and the week after, regardless. I like the fact if I walk past the shops near our place and five people say hello to you.

It's all about the water II

2007-01-12T14:21:00.001Z

Our bathroom was finished a few weeks before Christmas, but I hadn't got around to taking any decent photos. So here some are.

Brock and Paul did a fantastic job. It's lovely - it gives me something to look forward to in the mornings.

We're very happy with it - it's very sexy. I love the single piece of glass and the
'rain' shower head. Oh - and the taps.

The downside is every time I am in a bathroom now I check everything out - taps, porcelain, the lot - it's sad.

So complimentary...

2007-01-10T13:48:00.001Z

We were discussing the various calories and fat level of some cakes we were having at work.

Colleague: What did you just have?

Me : I chose the chocolate mini-roll. I thought it was a good compromise between the austerity of the blueberry muffin and the decadence of the golden syrup flapjack.

Colleague: You're the Stephen Fry of the IT world, aren't you?

Me: Are you calling me gay, depressed, or fat?

New Years Day - West End Stylee

2007-01-02T13:15:00.000Z

Paul and I woke lateish after NYE festivities, thinking we’d been visited by the bottle fairy (how did all those empty bottles get in our kitchen). While Paul slept some more, I decided to take advantage of that large yellow ball in the sky. I washed over 24 empty glasses in the sun in the kitchen with my shirt off – it was almost like living in Southern Europe, except we don’t ride with eight people to a scooter….

After sorting out the house, we grabbed our brand new yearly travelcards (cheaper than the £4 per one-way trip the tube now costs – ouch!) and before you could say ‘What hangover?’ went to meet Stuie, Mark, and Angel in London’s barricaded-off West End. En route, as they say in France, Paul and I watched the London Parade for about 5 minutes, then decided we’d had enough. There are only so many brass bands you can take with a fuzzy head. And I was bought up watching the Bendigo Easter Fair Society processions, so the London Parade was always going to have to be top-notch to compete with that.

The boys had splashed out and been to Browns for lunch – no dining Alistair Appleton this time, but Connie Fisher (Maria in the Sound of Music) was there. She didn’t sing, and she wasn’t wearing curtains. While Paul and I grabbed a sandwich, the boys went to the National Portrait Gallery. After Paul and I tired of the woman in Pret talking WAY TOO LOUDLY (maybe she was caught up in the excitement of Bulgaria and Romania joining the EU), we found the boys, saw the Pet Shops Boys photography exhibition, and then walked down to Trafalgar Square to check out the Norwegian Christmas tree. It wasn’t suffering needle drop like our tree is. Isn't it good, Norwegian wood?

By this stage Stuie had already left us to meet Derrecks because it was beer o’clock. I think Stuie's clock is Swiss - it keeps very accurate time. Mark, Angel, Paul and I wandered slowly back up to Soho and the den of iniquity that is Rupert St. My resolve to drink less in January failed about then. Derrecks, Augusto and Lee were already there, so we had a few drinks to celebrate the New Year. I suppose there’s always February to drink less in – that could work for me, it being a shorter month and all. Augusto and I had a discussion about who was taller. From this photo it looks like Augusto is, but he is standing closer to the camera. Clearly I am the taller of us. There are more pics here.

Happy New Year From London

2007-01-02T10:12:00.000Z

My resolution to drink less in January went out the window at 16:17 January 1st...... Not that bad, I don't think.

It's Very Dangerous Here

2006-12-22T19:52:00.000Z

So tonight we braved the 'killer fog' and went out to grab some food for ~~Christmas~~ the holidays . We ended up queueing here for over 40 minutes for cheese (only). We had some banter with the fellow queuees, and got free hot chocolate and cakey things, so all was not lost. And the staff were all foreign, how cosmopolitan!! They even spoke French to each other. It was sortof all the best bits of Med food transported to London. And cheap! Tuna, £18 a tin. Chocolates, £85 a kilo. Ham, £150 a kilo (well it was Jamon Iberico)....

Off out to serial killer country tomorrow, if the fog doesn't get us first......

2006-12-18T12:32:00.000Z

Paul and I gritted our teeth Saturday and headed into London’s sparkling West End to start our Christmas Shopping. It actually wasn’t too crowded, but then again we were there at the relatively early shopping time of 10:45, so who knows what it was like later. I was getting annoyed with people dawdling and stopping dead in front of me. I knew what I wanted and where I needed to go, so anyone in my way was an annoyance. When we were at dinner Saturday night, someone suggested implementing a fast and slow lanes, but I think it would be better just keeping tourists and stupid people out of town for the month of December, and deploying marksmen on the tops of buildings to shoot trangressors.. I wonder if the Mayor of London has a suggestion box?

I bought some shoes (on sale!) as my mum’s Christmas present to me. Thanks Mum!

When we were on Bond St, we saw Gordon Ramsay illegally park his silver Lamborghini and go into some ritzy jewellers, come out and drive off. F*ck!! (I don't normally swear, but I felt I should for Gordon's sake). His skin is really bad. But he has a classy car.

Paul suggested lunch at the new wine bar in Fortnum & Mason, 1707. It was very good, and the winelist was done by either Jancis Robinson or Tim Aitken. (I can’t remember which, but they are both MWs and two of my favourite wine writers). Jancis should be the next Queen of England. Anyway, the food was very good and so was the ~~wine~~ champagne. The room itself is all oak and so it felt a bit like sitting in a sauna with septuagenarians. If it had been Germany, they all would have been naked. It didn't bear thinking about.

The toilets at F & M have the same flush button as our new bathroom. How exciting! And F&M was founded before the white discovery of Australia.

The British press is very excited about Kate Middleton going to HRH William’s graduation at Sandhurst. She will probably now be hounded to death. I pity the poor girl, but I suppose if you start snogging the future King of England, it’s the price you have to pay.

Saturday night we went for dinner with Louise, Jo, and Stuie. At Spiga, in London's down-at-heel Soho. It was very good, and as a bonus, they forgot to charge us for the wine. Oh well. First we meet here for a drink, where I almost choked when I was charged £8 for a glass of wine. "It's very good", the barman assured me.

Louise and Jo are going to Paris for few days before Christmas. I hope they go here for dinner/lunch – it’s lovely. I believe they are what people call ‘lipstick’ lesbians. Some people think lesbians are all overalls and reassembling cars for the hell of it, but most of the lesbians I know are very glamourous.

Speaking of DIY (well sortof), I had to replace the bathroom light switch the other day and didn’t electrocute myself. Sometimes my butchness astounds me.

It’s finally got cold – just in time for Christmas! The weekend was very clear and crisp, but freezing as soon as the sun went down. Luckily I was wearing a beer coat for most of it.

I am not going to mention the Ashes, because I don’t really care about them.

Christmas in the West End

2006-12-16T17:40:00.000Z

Out doing Christmas shopping today...

'Are you having another of your queer spells?'

2006-12-15T13:13:00.000Z

That was one of the questions asked of Old Vic Theatre Artistic Director and late-night dog-walker Kevin Spacey, in Moon for the Misbegotten, in Sarf London last night. The play was excellent, but pretty intense. The subject matter of alcoholism, poverty and unrealised love was a nice way to kick off the Christmas season, too.

And the Bishop of Southwark kicked off his Christmas in a big way this week too, glad to see someone’s enjoying themselves.

We’re going to be spending Christmas a few miles from the ‘Ipswich Ripper'. Looks like I picked a good week to stop turning tricks.

And what planet is John Lethlean on? £7 for a loaf of bread? Was it supposed to have been posted from Paris?

The sweet life

2006-12-14T14:27:00.000Z

With the War on Toothpaste still not won, Friday night Paul and I rushed to get out to Heathrow, as getting through security on time is always a gamble. There's also the added excitement of not knowing how many items of clothing you'll have to remove, too. I only got to remove my belt and shoes this time, but because I now wear jeans that only cover half my bum, everyone got a good look at my underwear too. (Not really - I am not 16, I just try to dress that way).

A couple of lipstick lesbians were sat opposite us in the BA lounge, en route to Honkers. They had a small child with them, who was calling both of the ladies 'Mummy'. Both Mummy I and Mummy II were a bit grumpy though. I tried to give the little girl my best "Don't worry about grumpy mummies, they're probably not even going to sell you into the white slave trade, and even if they do, steamed rice and Kai lan is very slimming" smile, but I'm not sure if she got my vibe. At least I tried.

Our flight was delayed (thanks, BA!) and we ended up at Fiumicino on a public holiday, after public transport had stopped running. As much as I love Italy and Rome, that was enough to strike fear into our hearts, especially when we saw the size of the taxi queue. In most places taxis would be flying into the airport, but in Rome they were arriving at the rate of one every five minutes or so. We finally got a taxi over an hour later and didn't have a drink in our hand until after 1am.

We spent Saturday afternoon at Castel Romano, not some renaissance masterpiece or roman ruin, but an Italian Factory Outlet. If your idea of fun is trying to fight Italians off at cash registers (will they ever learn to queue?) and shopping for four hours, then you would have thought it was great. With hindsight, we spent a bit longer there than we would have liked, but Christmas demands sacrifices like that I suppose. Sophie picked us up from the metro station (€1 a trip!) and drove us out and Alexander and Edward joined us. It’s amazing how a balloon and a paper bag will keep young boys entertained for hours. Seriously. At one stage Edward was stroking my calves in the changing room telling me how hairy they were. I was just praying the whole thing wasn’t being captured on CCTV and I wouldn’t be spending the rest of the weekend explaining myself to the Carabinieri.

Saturday night was our designated Trastevere night. First we had dinner here, and it was very good, and everyone got to try the spigola with truffles. It was ridiculously cheap at €30 a head for 3 courses, wine, coffee. La Dolce Vita indeed.

We even had some Amaro.

Afterwards we wandered around Trastevere, (so much more crowded than it used to be, just ask Iz!) and went for a drink at the little Scala. Paul and I checked out our old apartment and tsked over the state of the shutters.

I went for cornetti for the group. Then we ended up in some sort of social club, where we drank a little later than we should have. It was just like old times.

Sunday was more like Melbourne – it rained solidly all day – so we abandoned any hope of strolling through piazzas, and instead went for lunch. After trying to call a taxi and failing miserably, fate then had the good grace to delay us at the metro because some old girl couldn’t work the ticket machine and of course the others were broken. Then arriving at Colosseo metro, buses weren’t running. We were reminded of how frustrating we found living in Rome. It didn’t stop us admiring the roman ruins and renaissance architecture on the way to lunch though – what Rome lacks in infrastructure and service it certainly makes up for in atmosphere. And good coffee. I didn’t have a dud one all weekend – it’s always perfect.

I sort of stuffed myself at lunch, purely because I knew I wasn't going to back for a while, and being a bit hungover helped too. Spagetti with Swordfish and Melanzane, Maialino (roast baby pig), and a fried artichoke then Millefoglie. Lunch over, it was time to jump in the car and head back to the airport at 160KPH – this time not in a taxi, but in a chauffeur-driven leather-upholstered Lancia. Nice (and only €40 – the same as the taxi). The whole weekend was a bit of a rushed trip, but it was very enjoyable and good to catch up with Steve, Iz, Gary, Debs, Trish, Sophs and the boys (H was away), Jean and Mary again.

With one glance he was possessed...

2006-12-12T15:24:00.000Z

Last night Mark and I were lucky enough to see the new ROH production of Carmen (one of my favourite operas). I've always liked opera, but never really been truly enthusiastic about it, but last night provided a 'now I understand what all the fuss is about' moment.

In my experience, if Don Jose (Carmen's soldier boyfriend) or Escamillo (the toreador Carmen ditches Don Jose for) are too portly or wimpy, then the whole thing doesn't seem to work.

Last night Jonas Kaufman was Don Jose and Ildebrando d'Arcangelo was Escamillo. Carmen was Anna Caterina Antonacci. So far, so smouldering. Carmen and Escamillo were excellent, but Jonas brought the house down with his "La fleur que tu m'avais jetée". It's one of my favourite arias, and he sung it with such intensity, passion and agony. It was amazing. He was great.

Here's a the original and a translation:

La fleur que tu m'avais jetée,

Dans ma prison m'était restée. Flétrie et sèche, cette fleur
Gardait toujours sa douce odeur;
Et pendant des heures entières,
Sur mes yeux, fermant mes paupières,

De cette odeur je m'enivrais

Et dans la nuit je te voyais!

Je me prenais à te maudire,
À te détester, à me dire :
Pourquoi faut-il que le destin
L'ait mise là sur mon chemin?
Puis je m'accusais de blasphème,
Et je ne sentais en moi-même,
Je ne sentais qu'un seul désir,

Un seul désir, un seul espoir:

Te revoir, ô Carmen, ou, te revoir!
Car tu n'avais eu qu'à paraître,
Qu'à jeter un regard sur moi,
Pour t'emparer de tout mon être, Ô ma Carmen!
Et j'étais une chose à toi
Carmen, je t'aime!

The flower that you tossed to me

In my prison stayed with me.

Withered and dried, this flower

Kept always its sweet odour

And during all of the hours,

Over my eyes closed my eyelids,

I became intoxicated with this odour

And in the night I saw you!

I became accustomed to cursing you,

To detesting you, to saying to myself :

Why is it necessary for destiny

To put herself there on my path

Then I accused myself of blasphemy

And I didn't feel but in myself

I didn't feel but one desire

A sole desire, a sole hope

To see you again, oh Carmen, to see you again!

For you had only to appear

Only to toss a glance towards me

In order to take a hold of all my being

Oh my Carmen

And I was yours

Carmen, I love you!

Slough or Great Portland St - you be the judge

2006-12-07T13:54:00.000Z

Where would you rather walk at lunchtime?

One of those mornings

2006-12-07T11:10:00.000Z

Rained on on the way to gym, then loose paving stones shoot water over my trousers, then splashed by a car on the way to work. At least things can't get much worse, can they?

At least there was no Polonium 210 in my coffee, it's everywhere you know.
And then there's the fact that Friday night we'll be drinking here.....

No news here

2006-12-05T13:07:00.000Z

There are more of us than they thought.

They apparently have a lot to be happy about.

And I didn't have to sit this (but could answer the sample questions).

And in other news

2006-11-28T13:32:00.000Z

So, last week we went to see the new controversial Bond. Very good. No annoying John Cleese. Daniel Craig is a very physical ripped Bond. Very. Not so many gadgets, characters a bit more fleshed out, Bond less suave, more manly, and Dame Judi. What's not to like? 8/10. Dum-dah-da-dum-dum, Dum-dum, Dum-de-de-dum-dum.

And today Michael Grade resigned from the Beeb to become CEO of ITV. Who? Yawn. This morning's Today Show devoted at least 10 long minutes to the story. Of interest to media-types only I would have thought, but the BBC led with it most of today.

My semi-new, part-time office is a block from here. I can feel the weight increase already.

Friday night saw Paul and I join Mark, Angel, and Laura at the Prince Charles cinema to see this. Lots of nuns, people dressed in curtains and brown paper packages. It was a fun night out, but Angel was happiest when it had finished - it's a very long movie and probably doubly so when English is your second language.

Saturday was an exciting day, filled with paint, sandpaper, polyfilla and primer. Then we met Mark, Angel, Mike, Kris and Alfonso for drinks at Barcode in Vauxhall. Stuie was supposed to join us, but bailed for a champagned-fulled 40th at the Edge instead. We drank, we danced a bit. Paul and I got the nightbus home, and I almost caused a bus-rage incident by taking some bloke's lit cigarette and throwing it out the window. Bit harsh, but smoking is banned on buses.

Sunday was filled with more plaster-dust etc. etc. I do so little manual work now that painting the bathroom door gave me blisters. Now I can't hold a pen to write.

Oh, and last night our plumbers told us about the woman in the building near us who cleans naked. You can see her every night apparently - we've been there three years and never noticed. They've been there three days.

Concrete is so underrated

2006-11-27T17:07:00.000Z

There is a new pissoir as part of the Vauxhall bus-station redevelopment - I like it. And it's functional, too.

And I really like this carpark. Very sad.

Love, Abbey Road Style

2006-11-23T16:03:00.000Z

Normally the fence at Abbey Road Studios is covered in grafitti from effusive fans (mostly Beatles fans, with a sprinkling of Clash and Pink Floyd fans). There are people there pretty much all day recreating the 'Abbey Road', album cover - stopping my bus from getting to where it should be going (not in the least bit annoying, nope - not at all annoying). The graffitti is normally high-quality stuff, too, like 'John forever - Loretta, Italy' or "Hans from Cologne says 'I am the walrus' ". The fence is repainted every couple of months, but this week to celebrate (promote?) the new Beatles 'Love' album, the record company has painted it.

They discovered sea-routes to India and West Africa, you know

2006-11-22T12:53:00.000Z

So after the whirlwind that was Mark and Robert’s visit to London (more on that to follow) Paul and I set off for Lisbon last Tuesday lunchtime. And what a good time to travel – no hassle on the train to Heathrow, quiet enough in the BA lounge, and Heathrow wasn’t too manic either. The flight was a little late, but Marta (our landlady for 5 days) was patient at the apartment and she greeted us in whirl of flawless olive skin, white teeth and hesitant english. And what a great apartment it was – high 15ft ceilings, shuttered windows onto the street, all-white, cute little euro-kitchen and bathroom, polished floorboards, chic gentrified working-class location - ticking almost every clichéd European stereotype you can muster.

The apartment was at the bottom of Bairro Alto, just above Bica, which led straight down to the river. Apparently, a lot of Bica was washed away in a landslide. There was a funicular to get the old and infirm (and by the smell of them, the drunk, but maybe that was just my breath) up and down the hill and trams ran outside too (almost a w-class, but smaller!).

It’s pretty amazing how a short flight you can transport you from safe, (relatively) clean London, to fearing for your life in a speeding taxi and dodging dog turds as you walk the streets of some 400-y-o neighbourhood full of decaying houses. So last Tuesday night, Paul and I found ourselves dodging dog-turds and dealers, as we hit Bairro Alto for some great tasting seafood, then a quick tour of the bars of Principe Real. Bairro Alto was busyish (for a school-night), but Principe Real was very quiet. So quiet, we went back to Barrio Alto and drank at some coolly distressed bar – it was so very Fitzroy, it almost made me homesick.

Our next few days consisted of pretty much the same pattern, sleeping in, late breakfast, sightseeing and then dinner (either in the apartment or out). Lisbon had some great inexpensive restaurants and I ate possibly the finest piece of tuna I’ve ever eaten on Saturday night. And that’s before I start on the Pasteis de Nata. I tried (successfully, for the most part) to limit myself to one a day, which was difficult for someone with a sweet-tooth like mine (See? It’s easy – all you need to say is ‘I like dessert’. You know who you are.)

Lisbon was hosting an Herbalife conference while we were there, I have never seen ‘Lose weight now, ask me how’ badges in French, Spanish, German and Dutch before. I can now die happy. We struck up a conversation with a Spanish woman on the tram from Barcelona, who gave us her card ‘in case we had any questions’. I am now on a diet.

Saturday we went out to Belem, which was formerly a different town to Lisbon, but now is a suburb. We caught the tram, not the rattley ding-ding w-class impersonator, but the smooth honk-honk Citadis and Combino type. More Melbourne flashbacks. Belem was beautiful, the Torre de Belem enchantingly so, and the San Jeronimos Cathedral too. I was busting so we called in the Centro Cultural de Belem (CCB), and it was pretty cool too. All pink-sandstone and lovely open spaces. Sort of like Federation Square, but not trying as hard. Which is not to say I don't like Fed Sq., or prefer the CCB, the CCB was not as architecturally challenging.

Unfortunately the CCB were in the middle of changing the signs for the toilets, so it took about 20 mins to find one. I think urine-stained jeans were a small price to pay for hanging around architectural magnificence. I finally found relief in one of the cafés there, where some impeccably dressed dark-haired, olive-skinned Mediterranean type was there gazing out over the perfectly landscaped terrace with it’s vista over the river, smoking himself to an early death, while poring over his architectural drawings. It was all so achingly hip and European, that I couldn’t help but put my sunglasses on my head and my jumper over my shoulders.

The tower at Belem was pretty amazing too, they don’t build fortresses like they used to. It’s UNESCO world heritage registered and Paul and I were undecided about going in (what does the UN know about culture, anyway?), but once we were in we were hooked and spent over an hour looking round. It must have been the dungeons that got us. I’m not sure if it was the sunglasses on my head or the jumper over the shoulders, but a couple of times I was asked in Portuguese to take photos. (note to self: must buy deodorant). From there we dashed to San Jeronimos, where I was outraged by the level of noise in a cathedral, and the inanity of the conversation (‘Oh, and do you get someone in?’ ‘Yeah, I have a cleaner come once a week’ – Go to a café to chat you idiots!!). We missed the cloisters, because it’s always good to have a reason to return. I didn’t miss calling into the Pasteis de Belem manufacturer where there was literally a rugby scrum to grab half a dozen tarts.

Saturday night we skipped the bars of Principe Real, and went for dinner in Bairro Alto, then to Setimo Ceu for a drink – I kept Paul out until 2am and the street was still full of crazy Lisboetas drinking – they are almost as clinically insane as the Spanish. Summer must be great.

While the weather wasn’t fantastic it was pretty good – 17C at least and Saturday and Sunday were around 21C. The cleaner in our building was tsking over the weather this morning when I chatted to her (she’s Portuguese), she thought it was cold for this time of year. I suppose it’s all relative. We were out most nights in a tshirt and jacket.

And cheap? We couldn’t believe it – 1.30 euro for two coffees and two pastries. That’s less than 90p. Meals were inexpensive as well, and wine was dirt cheap too. At a We went to this wine bar we had two glasses of excellent vedelho (keeping my promise to drink more vedelho this year), and an antipasto plate for under a tenner – and we thought that was pricy. If only it was Spain, we’d be there like shot. But I must admit Lisbon has rocketed from nowhere into my top 10 cities list (ooh- that sounds like a good idea for a blog post!).

And the people were so nice – the wine bloke in the supermarket was happy to spend 15 minutes with us tasting wines and telling us the differences between them, and Marta (our olive-skinned landlady/goddess) even offered to look for big houses to rent next year for us……. How nice is that? How can you not like a city that produces people like that? More photos here.

Men at work II

2006-11-22T09:30:00.000Z

To be honest, last night I thought the bathroom would never be finished.

But I love it when a plan comes together, especially if the plan involves chrome. (Apologies for the quality of the pics, camera phone not so good at night)

Men At Work

2006-11-21T09:42:00.000Z

2 pics - top is bathroom Monday night, the lower is Sunday night - should all be finished today hopefully!! (And we will have hot water and a toilet again.)

You can bank on the Holy Spirit

2006-11-20T15:13:00.000Z

well you certainly can in Portugal.....

Who's been a bad blogger then.....

2006-11-19T21:04:00.000Z

Hello! Sorry - was busy at work, then on holiday in Lisbon, I apologise for the break in transmission.
More to follow soonish...

Be alert, but not alarmed.

2006-11-06T13:12:00.000Z

Saturday night was Guy Fawkes Eve, so a group of us (including internationally renowned potato judge Michael Croke) braved thousands of the great unwashed (and the worst teenagers in Europe) and travelled up to Alexandra Palace to watch "London's biggest Guy Fawkes firework display" (tm reg). It was well-organised, although the general feeling was it was slightly overpoliced ("Sparklers are not allowed" and "You can't stand there, that area's for the 'disableds'").

After discovering that the ice-skating wasn't open, our evening started off in the bar. It turned out that we were standing in the unofficial meeting spot for disabled patrons, and every two minutes someone new in a wheelchair rolled up behind us. There was also a group of 30 dwarves running around, which added to the slightly surreal feel of the evening. At one point our group was video-ed by the dwarves, which we thought was rather exploitative of them.

In order to beat the crowds, we arrived at Ally Pally early, but we were distracted by the bar and food, so by the time we got back outside we had to force our way through the scrum to get a decent viewpoint for the fireworks, but I was slightly nervous as Mark had smuggled in mulled wine (highly illegal), and Mel had sparklers (also illegal). Imagine if we had been caught and transported to Australia. The shame of it all. Luckily, Mark had spilt most of the mulled wine, so that went quickly (probably also because it had a decent whack of brandy in it). The sparklers were more problematic for me, but I decided to stand down the hill away from my friends so I wouldn't be arrested when they lit them. Imagine my disappointment when there was no charging line of riot police when the sparklers were lit.

The display lasted for 20 (30?) minutes or so and was impressive stuff. The hill that Ally Pally is built upon also has a great view across London to Canary Wharf, the City and the West End, so we could see fireworks going off all over London. Guy Fawkes night really is one of my favourite nights in the UK - I love fireworks, (but not in the way my ex did). I was so over-excited everyone decided to take me for a drink in Soho to calm me down. That was almost as much fun as the fireworks. My not-too-much alcohol vow went out the window too. Oh well, I suppose there's always next weekend.

Houses I wished I Owned (2 in series of 250,000)

2006-10-31T15:49:00.000Z

in a pretty little cul-de-sac near us - but the chandelier in the back room would have to go to St Vinnie's.

How

2006-10-30T17:28:00.000Z

did I not know about this? Chocolate con churros a block from where we used to live?
What's not to like about that?

Nothing to see here

2006-10-29T18:49:00.000Z

Today was such a lovely day that Paul and I decided to go for a walk on Hampstead Heath, and even though it felt like we spent the best part of the afternoon waiting for the bus over, it was beautiful once we got there. Euan McGregor plays a gay man in a new film shot on Hampstead Heath - 'Scenes of A Sexual Nature', but we didn't see him anywhere. :(

I had had a force 10 hangover, but running to the gym and back had reduced that to a force 8 - too much beer and red wine last night with Louise, Jo, Clayton, Jari, Lucy, Brock and Jason. We had been at Islington's cool-ish 'The Green', then had tapas and some lovely tempranillo from Ribera Del Duero. I had planned to have a quiet weekend on the alcohol front, but fortunately events conspired against me.

Paul arrived home Friday night with champagne to celebrate my new job. It looks like I've landed another job with our main client, but at this point in time I'm not really sure what it is. I was rung the other day to ask if I would put myself forward for it. The job was with a few agencies as well, but as it was so great it seems I was the only applicant. Hmmm. I'm not too sure what that means at this point in time. I think it's more a of project management role, and the project runs until June next year, so I'm hoping it will all work out and it's a permanent way out of my current role. I'm pretty excited by it, but a bit nervous too.

Anyway, my lovely boyfriend bought champagne for that, and then we had steak with garlic and rosemary potatoes, so some Yarra Valley red was consumed with that....add last night's drinks in and the plans for a light weekend went out the window......there's always next weekend I suppose.

I'm so excited

2006-10-26T11:28:00.000+01:00

this is the view from my new office in London - it's fantastic to be back working in town...

Her Hands Were Very Cold

2006-10-24T13:45:00.001+01:00

After a quick, affordable (£10.95 for two courses, what’s not to like about that?), pre-theatre meal at Browns ( and you all know, when at London Pride, Alistair Appleton chooses to eat at Browns), Paul, Mark, Damien, Claire and I trotted off up Long Acre to the Royal Opera House to see Puccini’s ‘La Boheme’.

After the initial disappointment of hearing that ~~Katie Van Kooten~~ (oops that should be Nuccia Focile ) was unwell and was to be replaced by the Kiwi Anna Leese as Musetta, we settled in for the emotional roller-coaster ride that is ‘La Boheme’. And it was a cracker. Poverty, love, deception, self-medication and billiards, it had the lot.

Incidentally, there’s nothing like being typecast, the kiwi’s role (Musetta) was a tart in act one, then a drunken tart in act two. You can take the girl out of New Zealand……

We didn’t know when we booked (Or even up until last week, we’re not opera buffs), that one of the world's top tenors, Marcelo Alvarez, was to sing the role of Rodolfo. He was superb, even from the more affordable seats at top of the upper amphitheatre. In the heat of the moment after the performance, I gave it a 9.5, but now in the sober, cold light of day, I’d give it a 9.2.

Going to the Royal Opera House is a pretty amazing experience – the floral hall is breathtakingly beautiful, and as there were two intervals, we braved the plumes of passive smoke and took in the amazing view from the ~~garrett~~ terrace over the roofs of Covent Garden and to London beyond.

The crowd was very middle class and a bit snooty, with the odd theatre gay standing around – every now and then some 50-yo man in a tight (designer) t-shirt would walk past with a 30-something and I’d say to Damien ‘Do you think he’s gay?’. ‘Who can say?’ would be his reply.

I’ve been meaning to post some other ‘reviews’ of a couple of things we’ve been to see recently:

‘Bent’ starring Alan Cumming at the Trafalgar Studios theatre in Whitehall. Paul, Mark from London, Mark from Amsterdam, Marcus (any more Marks/Marcs?) and I decided on the spur of the moment to see this, as Mark was over from Amsterdam, and wanted some cultcha. It was pretty grim stuff, about a gay man in a concentration camp during the WWII. I enjoyed it and there were some very powerful scenes, but I felt the second half suffered from a certain mawkishness (more a result of the writing than the acting). Alan Cumming and Chris New(!) were excellent in the lead roles. I’d give it 7.4/10

Movies: ‘The Devil Wears Prada’ - It was hard not to be seduced by the glamour and glossiness of TDWP. Meryl Streep was excellent (no surprise there then) and Anne Hathaway is very beautiful in it. Our excitement level rose because our friend Cressida is an editor at the New Yorker and so we visited the Conde Nast building and ate in the $30 million Gehry-designed canteen last year. And funnily enough, Paris looked beautiful - they even showed Maxims (rolls eyes). Fine as a piece of light entertainment, 7.5/10.

‘Little Miss Sunshine’ – this was ok, but I never managed to shrug off the feeling that the move was trying too hard to be quirky. I don’t like movies that spend the whole night saying ‘Look at me, aren’t I a quirky little movie?’. Toni Collete was good, the other performances were good, but as Damien said ‘it lacked teeth’. 7.7/10

I'm Outraged

2006-10-20T12:51:00.000+01:00

Today's Evening Standard:

How on earth can they condone that - it should be 'George Michael smokes drug on TV'. Unless of course he had some crack mixed in with his grass, but that's more Whitney Houston than George Michael....

In other news

2006-10-20T11:58:00.000+01:00

Last weekend we was out in East Anglia for Keirsty's birthday. She only celebrated over three days, which was quite understated I feel. Happy Birthday!

The dental floss fell into the toilet - I threw it out.

My 10 minute bus-trip to get my haircut turned into a 40-minute trip, as a horse-drawn hearse blocked the road. Honestly, dead people have no respect for the living. And a horse-drawn hearse? What century are we in? Screw the greenhouse emissions.... I was expecting to see Emma Thompson running around in crinoline at any minute.

I whiled away the time by reading the book the guy next to me was reading - it justified eating meat by quoting the Old Testament. I thought he might stone me if he knew I was a sinner.

I also danced in my seat to Bananarama - to observers it probably looked like I had worms.

I don't, but I do have tinea at the moment.

I rang Sam (my Cypriot hairdresser (Greek-Cypriot or Turkish-Cypriot - who knows? I don't want to offend by asking.)) to apologise. He is very nice and was cool about it - he probably hangs out with George Michael smoking a drug all the time.

At lunchtime, the guy next to me in Tesco (on the banned list, but I needed bananas), crouched down to enter his PIN, hid the keypad with his hand and kept looking around for dodgy characters. I started to giggle.

Houses I wished I Owned (1 in series of 250,000)

2006-10-16T14:10:00.000+01:00

I'd obviously take better care of the plants though.....

More Madrid 1

2006-10-13T13:53:00.000+01:00

Firstly apologies - blogger is playing up on me and I have had to remove the photos from my post and put them in another, here's the accompanying text:

In the end there was a pretty mad dash to get from home to Victoria Station in time to catch the train to Gatwick last Friday. Even though we managed to get to Gatwick in plenty of time, the war on hand-cream meant we had about a 40 minute wait to get through security. Great. Luckily for us, Damien used to do stand-up, so he kept us entertained for about three minutes of the forty.

The delay at security meant we weren't able to make full use of the BA lounge. We three barely had time to ignore the 'Members can only take one guest into the lounge' sign, ~~throw back~~ pour a G + T (the drink of ruined mothers) and run.

Madrid's new terminal 4 was where we alighted, and it's beautiful. As someone who is quite easily seduced by the new and shiny, I loved it. Great toilets, funky booths, bins for recycling, what doesn't it have.? I could have stayed there for the four days (and for a while it looked like we were going to be waiting for our luggage that long), but Madrid was beckoning.

We were renting an apartment in the north of Chueca fro four days and their rep. met us (for a small fee) to drop off the key and provide some fascist comments ('We tend to find people from richer countries are the best tenants - south Americans are the worst.') Nice. Welcome to Madrid (Oh, I should stress he wasn't Spanish, even though he displayed signs of craziness). The apartment was good, roomy- newish (not as cool as the airport though), and we looked across the street into a Pilates Studio - all very Habla con Ella (Talk to Her) - Paul was beside himself.

As our last visit to Madrid was two years ago with my parents, and they are the kind of people who like to stay out drinking at bars until the early hours of the morning, we weren't aware that in a (failed) attempt to stop the botellon, the (surprise - right-wing!) Madrid council had stopped the sale of alcohol in shops after 22:00. (As if that will stop people drinking on the streets). So, we had no choice but to go out for a drink and chose Liquid. Liquid is a videobar and was in the middle of a Madonnathon when we arrived (at around 1:40, passing people in the street eating dinner as we went - those Spanish are crazy...), which proved once again that gay men the world over are pretty much the same. We decided to call it a night at 4:00, as at that hour only clubs were open and we didn't want to spend our entire holiday sleeping (and we didn't trust ourselves ounce were inside a club).

Saturday saw us just walking in central Madrid (sol, Santa Ana, Chueca, Plaza Major etc), grabbing some tapas, then going to the Prado. Bosch. Tick. Goya. Tick. El Greco. Tick. Velaquez. Tick. Oh and back to the Ruebens. Tick. It was a beautiful day, so we hit the Retiro for a walk in the 28C sun. Lovely. I was very thankful that I had worn shorts and not jeans, in fact I believe we all were.

Dinner that night was booked for midnight (it was the earliest they could fit us in - those Spanish are crazy....), so at our ages that meant a siesta was mandatory. So after a nap and a fairly rigourous beauty regimen (not me - that was Paul and Damien), we headed down to meet some friends for pre-dinner (for us - post-dinner for them) drink at 23:30 in Chicote, a fantastic art-deco cocktail bar, famous for not having closed during the civil war. Dinner itself was a little disappointing for me, but I shouldn't really complain - it was more down to my choices than the restaurant and it was a snip compared to London prices. We did consider going for another drink after dinner, but decided to have a relatively early night (at 3:30 - those Spanish are crazy). We passed one of Madrid's legendary early-morning clubbing traffic jams (we were staying near to Pacha).

Having been worded up by friends in London and Madrid that the best clubbing iwas to be had on Sunday at Space of Sound, we headed there Sunday afternoon. (not before Pual had danced on the balcony in his underwear, and been caught by the women acrooss the street - very amusing). SOS was very good and we made some new friends - Jose-Maria and Carlos from Madrid, and Jorge and Mark from Belgium. Carlos turned out to be a riot. I was calling him Spanish Damien, mainly becuase of his stupid jokes. After Space of Sound Carlos persuaded us to go to another club via the the Metro. Carlos was dressed in a Adidas boiler-suit and as we entered the second club, the bouncers asked him if he was there to fix something, which had Damien and I in fits of giggles. At one point in the evening,a midget appeared and started having his photo taken with people - it was all very surreal.

Monday we were pretty subdued, so grabbed a Menu del dia for lunch (for 12 Euro! 3 courses for less than £10 - those Spanish are crazy!), then went for another long walk and hung out in few plazas. Mondays are for eating in, so we found a market and bought far too much chorizo, jamon, olives and cheeses etc for dinner. (Paul caused an international incident with a little old lady - 'Are you still buying things?' she asked glaring at him). We polished it off with a couple of bottles of wine. It doesn't get much better than that.

Tuesday after picnicing in Plaza Santa Ana, we booked a couple of hours at the turkish baths and went and detoxed - it was very relaxing and just what we needed after the excesses of the previous few days. We all signed up for the 'exfoliating massage', which involved being pounded by a plump Spanish lesbian with exfoliating gloves on.

Madrid was great fun - it's one of my favourite cities in Europe. It has a great combination of nice people ( there were at least four instances where random strangers went out of their way to help us, which was great), the city's pretty, there's good nightlife and food, and then there's the weather. I can't wait to visit again.

More Madrid 2

2006-10-13T13:46:00.000+01:00

Terminal 4 Madrid Aiport

The view from our apartment

The Retiro

Carlos and Damien on the Metro

Jamon

Madrid

2006-10-11T12:12:00.000+01:00

What's not to like?

2006-10-06T10:06:00.000+01:00

Comedy gold - the new series of 'Extras' - last's night's episode had Ronnie Corbett doing lines of cocaine in the toilets at the BAFTAs - Ricky Gervais is a genius. I haven't laughed so hard for ages.

Political gold - Australian Liberal (conservative) MP Petro Georgiou, who helped draw up Australia's multicultural policy in the 1970s for the conservative government, pulls apart the Howard Government's proposed citizenship test. Hooray!

Imaginary Gold - we're off to Madrid with Damien for a four-day mini-break.

St John's Wood 7:00am

2006-10-05T09:51:00.000+01:00

It's enough to make you want to spend all day in the kitchen.

50 Things I love about London

2006-10-03T12:30:00.000+01:00

Coming out of Charing Cross station onto Trafalgar Square
The cathedral-like Paddington Station
Dick Whittington's cat on Highgate Hill
Real Ale
The buzz on the street
Georgian houses
Picnics on Primrose Hill
Walking along the South Bank
St Pauls
Centrepoint (so sue me)
Theatre
The Tube (mostly)
Saturday's Indy
Cheese shops
Walks on Hampstead Heath
Weekends in Europe
Fish and chips at the Golden Hind
theguardian
Eurostar
Greenwich Park
A summer's day in Soho Square
Borough Market
Red Ken's buses
The calm of Sunday mornings
Channel4
All weekend 'night'-life
European wine
Regent's Park
BBC2
French bakeries
Canals
Radio4
The Thames
Foreign friends
Cold winters
Soho
The eccentricity of Highgate ponds
The National Gallery
European lager
The Gherkin
St Pauls
Orange Wednesdays
Indian Food
Hungerford Bridge early in the morning
Marylebone
The Unilever series at the Tate Modern
Red Ken's free flicks
London Cabs
Snow in winter
North London

It's Political Correctness Gone Mad

2006-09-29T10:10:00.000+01:00

After complaints from some of my older readers (you know who you are!), and in order to comply with the UK's new age-discrimination legislation effective October 1st, I have made my blog font larger. Put your bi-focals away now.

Getting down with the kids (and up with the sparrows)

2006-09-28T11:01:00.000+01:00

Sunday saw us getting up early and meeting Julie, Nicola and Jonathan at the ungodly hour of 10:30am in Covent Garden. Not even the nuns were up then. N + J were keen to come to London to spend their hard-earned birthday money on crack, and buy some clothes with the change.

After the shops had opened (most stores don't open until 12:00 on a Sunday in the UK, not sure why, it's not as if Anglicans are forced to go to church like Catholics are), we had a fun day. The kids are good value and even though for a while there it looked like they weren't finding what they wanted, soon the cash was flying out of their wallets.

Next stop were some surf shops which produced a couple of hits for Nic, but nothing for Jon, and we changed tack and hit shoe shops where N + J were lucky to find a buy one pair, get the other half price offer.

All this shopping was making us hungry, so pizza (and doughballs) were consumed at Pizza Express in Soho. Whilst there, Jonathan became embroiled in a sock crisis, as his (short) socks weren't short enough for his new shoes. Cue 10 minutes of sock folding to get them just right and then we were able to go on our way to everyone's favourite London Shopping Street, Oxford Street. It wasn't too crowded, there were probably only tens of thousands of people out shopping. Topshop and H + M were our destinations there, and they didn't disappoint.

Fashion news from repated viewings on Sunday:

1. Hoodies are still popular on the high street.
2. Skinny jeans are very popular - very punk rock (but no way would I wear them, once was enough!)
3. Vans are popular too.
4. Multiple body piercings and dreadlocks are no bar to a pleasant personality.

By complete coincidence, we called into Rupert Street for a beer on after Julie, Nic and Jonathan had jumped in a taxi to Liverpool St, and Augusto, Derrecks and Lee were there drinking. Augusto tried on my sunglasses. We ended staying for more than one beer because beer is my friend. It was nice.

It's all about the water.

2006-09-25T10:38:00.000+01:00

Friday night Adam cooked for us, as well as Sim and PO'T. (Which reminds me - someone was writing down my surname on Friday - and asked if it required an apostrophe! I am getting less and less tolerant of stupidity.) We were supposed to be going to Fiction, but as Paul was poorly, we decided it would be in the best interests of his health to stay in.

After work, Ad, PO'T and I headed over to Majestic to meet Paul and grab a dozen bottles of wine (mostly red now the weather's turning cooler. Is there anything better than a nice bottle of red on an autumnal night?) Walking back through St John's Wood, we detoured to The Clifton (formerly the house of Lily Langtry, mistress to royalty) for a swift pint or two.
Ad's cooked us marinated lamb with minted yoghurt and we followed that with two excellent cheeses. One was a Stilton, which I wasn't crazy about, but everyone else loved, and the other was a fantastically runny, gooey, smelly soft-rinded brie-like English cheese.
After the cheese Paul retired to bed, but I felt the need to play host, so very unwisely stayed up until 4:30am drinking amaro (Averna), Apple liqueur, Limoncello and then absinthe. What stupidity.

The next day, after two very hungover boys had returned to South London from our place, Paul and I headed over to Camden. Camden is an assault on the senses at the best of times, but with a large hangover it was a thousand times worse. As a result we didn't spend long there and were quick to beat a retreat. We walked the long way home along Regent's Canal. The walk along the canal was lovely - it's one of my favourite parts of London, it’s so quiet and peaceful. (The peace was broken by one one piece of very obvious stupidity where a woman near us said 'I love those trees - the ones over there like a weeping willow'. Oh, those would be weeping willows then.) Some of the houses along the canal have big gardens that run down to the water - nice. I find a walk in London past houses that are unattainable quite relaxing and soothing.

It Has No Ballroom.

2006-09-22T15:02:00.000+01:00

for my father.....

Let him entertain you

2006-09-22T14:29:00.000+01:00

Well blogs are supposed to have their fingers on the pulse, and what better way to demonstrate that than have me post on a concert that occurred over a week ago? As I mentioned previously, I wasn't too sure what to expect, but I really enjoyed the concert.

Here's a few things that stood out for me:

Basement Jaxx were excellent - never had so much fun with a support act.
Robbie needs a therapist - 10 years and he's still bitching about 'Take That'? (and there was a point-by-point disection of newspaper criticism of his career) Let go Robbie, let go.
Millions of pounds might get you a helicopter, but it mightn't make you happy.
Robbie's older material is better than his new - so was it Robbie or Guy Chambers that made it special?
He must be bloody sick of 'Angels'.
Not a single black or Asian person was spotted by us.
Stephen 'Tin-Tin' Duffy was in Robbie's band, for you die-hard 80's children.

So, it was all very good, but I don't think I'd go again - once was definitely enough for me.

I'm with Germaine

2006-09-20T11:40:00.000+01:00

I don't understand this. I absolutely agree with this though.
Steve Irwin - colourful character, yes - national icon and a shining example to all Australians? Please!!!!