Improv

Now I'm not averse to a comedy night. I've been to one or two in my time so I feel like I can stand in a relatively informed position when I sneer belittlingly in the direction of improv.

The speed people come up with things is no doubt impressive but ultimately it feels like you're watching a parlour game played by professionals. And if that was worth watching Pictionary would be in the Olympics, Scategories woukd be on the telly and there would be illicit Taboo gambling in the back rooms of shady pubs.

It's like real comedy but without the jokes.

Something else I don't get: ello. Apparently it's the hip new face of social media. I feel out of my depth even thinking about it. I reckon I'm a decade too old and 82% too uncool to understand it.

Lux Interior

I was promised snow. Stamps foot like a petulant child. I wanted Europe's Most Spectacularly Sited Capital (TM) to be all snow covered and pretty. I bought boots and everything.  Instead I got drizzle.

So yeah, I've spent the weekend in Luxembourg. Now if there's one thing I know about those Benelux Low Countries is that they are all flat as the proverbial flam. This Luxembourg place has confounded that assumption, I tell thee. It's a double decker city, with the two levels split by towering rockfaces. I wasn't really expecting that.

It was way more interesting than I was expecting too. Quite a bit of that culture stuff around and chock full of Christmas markets (it's not Christmas until we get our plugs, which is a reference I just won't understand if I ever read this back).

I ventured out of the city today. I went to Echternach, up on the German border. I think it's a pilgrimage town, but can't be certain as the tourist information was closed. At a pilgrimage town. On a Sunday. When the town is up to its eyes in Christmas Market and, for some reason, a medieval fayre. Guess everyone in Echternach is getting ocarinas this Christmas. 

I didn't manage to spend all that long in Echternach (thanks to the very inconvenient Sunday public transport - for the record, public transport within Luxembourg is crazy cheap. Four euros for all you can eat) but I did manage to sneak a couple of miles along the Müllerthal Trail, Luxembourg's foremost hiking route. Way more spectacular than I was expecting - I blame the lack of flat, these not so low countries and their lack of flat...

Better than Parmesan

I went to that there Sam Wannamaker Playhouse to see everyone's favourite incest thriller Tis Pity She's A Whore . Quite liked it I did, both the show with its strangely modern stylings and that there theatre with its atmospherics and lack of electric lighting.

Wasn't a massive fan of the view tho - it took restricted to a whole other level - this is going to sound like I'm exaggerating but I'm not, I could only see half the stage. Stage left. And it seemed that most of the action was hanging out on the right. The fascist.

Finn McCool's Mighty Pipe Organ

I have been a bit surprised that a handful of my friends (who I generally consider sort of intelligent) hadn't heard of the Giant's Causeway. It's one of those things that I assumed everyone knew about. Much like Loch Ness. Turns out I was wrong. So for those of you who don't know, the Giant's Causeway was made by Finn McCool, an Irish giant with a hexagon fetish, so that he could get to Scotland without getting his feet wet. It was later broken up by Benandonner after some griddlecake-based hijinks leaving only a pile of wonky hexagons.

Turns out that the wonky pile of hexagons is pretty impressive, way better than I had expected. My only real gripe is that public transport timings meant that it was something of a smash and grab affair, rather than a leisurely appreciation. 

I stayed in Derry. I'd not been to Derry before and don't really see why I would go back. Don't get me wrong, the city is interesting enough, it's just the whole pro-IRA vibe that they had going on made me feel conspicuously English.

Ate me an Ulster fry. Possibly the least healthy thing I have ever eaten. The whole thing had had the flavour and texture deepfried out of it. Even the beans.

Vampires and That

So my second time in Transylvania. And this time it was the Transylvanian end of Transylvania where there are vampires and tourists and that, not the other end where there's amazing scenery and foreigners are a bit of a novelty. Hell no. If I can't get a set of novelty Vlad Tepes coasters then it's not Transylvania regardless of what the map says.

Brasov is pretty pretty though, I can see why that's all touristy. Ideologically it's about as far as you can get from Bucharest with its communist chic and hard to cross intersections. Brasov is all toytown tranquility and fairytale eaves. And vampires, obviously. The Black Church looks like prime vampire real estate.

Talking of vampire real estate, we took a jaunt out to Bran Castle to see the so called home of Dracula. That's a place that does a turret well, albeit in an Exit Through The Haunted Gift Shop kind of way.

Back in Bucharest now. Had a trip to the National Peasant Museum (odd, obviously) and am now in the airport, swallowing annoyance that they told me I couldn't use Romanian currency in duty free, made me change my money, only for all food and drink to be in local currency. Which meant my cola cost more than any meal I've eaten this weekend. The rotters.

Romanian Balls

And back to Eastern Europe. This time Bucharest, which so far (and in real terms it has only been one afternoon) is providing an all round good level of weird. Against a backdrop nowhere near as grey and angular as I'd been led to believe - even the guidebook describes it as Europe's most unappealing capital.

So, according to TripAdvisor, Bucharest's premier tourist attraction is Escaperooms. Basically it does what it says on the tin: you're locked in a room and given an hour to escape by working out a series of clues. What kind of city has reenacting Saw as their main tourist attraction?

Last night finished up in a glow-in-the-dark, crazy golf themed karaoke bar or it could have been a glow-in-the-dark, karaoke themed crazy golf bar. Either way there are nowhere near enough glow-in-the-dark, crazy golf themed karaoke bars in the world. Fact.

And it wouldn't be proper weird if there wasn't something weird to eat: pork fillet stuffed with turkey testicles - bring it on.

The Riviera

Yeah okay, I'm a hypocrite. I know I said that I wouldn't go to Budva because it's just Benidorm for Russians. But I went anyway. It is very pretty after all. And by early evening I was all ready to eat my words. Yeah the front is a bit tacky with its fake eiffel tower and parades of people trying to sell jetskis, but out of season that wasn't too offensive. The old town was charming and I walked to Sveti Stefan, a fishing village that's so picturesque mere mortals aren't permitted (it looked alright, personally I preferred Przno, even if it did need more vowels) and that was more than pleasant. I almost liked Budva.

But then evening came. Whining is just going to be a self pitying I told me so. All you need to know is: seventeen euros. Lou Bega. One hundred and forty seven times.

I left Budva as early as possible.

I'm finishing my break back in Podgorica and who would have thought that the city would serve up a Wow moment. The Cathedral is immense. It's massive and all shiny new. I've seen very few cathedrals that are as impressive and certainly none that are as impressive and as poorly located: on a piece of waste land surrounded by utilitarian, concrete tower blocks. It's like Michelangelo has painted the ceiling of a multistorey car park. In Vange.

And More Picturesque Scenery

Nothing says secluded mountain idyll like an old man throwing a bag of vomit from a moving bus.

I'm in the north of Albania on my way back to Montenegro. I've based myself in Shkodra, the fourth largest city in Albania and one of the oldest constantly inhabited cities in the world. Apparently. Looks quite new to me. Although that may be because it has had a strange sort of a facelift. It appears to have prepared itself for a tourist boom (souvenir shops, drinking strip, without all that much tourism. If you build it they will come.

Shkodra has got itself a hill top castle. They do do a castle well in this part of the world - Kotor, Bragaj, Berat and a whole heap of ominous looking turrets overlooking the main roads. This was the first castle that had a boob-related anecdote, which obviously makes it the best.

Yesterday I went to Lake Koman (or it might be Komani, I haven't got my head around Albanian grammar yet). It was ace and it was fjordlike with its water and its cliffs but I'm not certain that it was all that much more impressive than the bus journey between Sarajevo and Niksig. I guess the cynicism is back...

Shqiperia

So Tirana, my third capital city in three nights. And this one feels a whole heap more loke a capital city than number two. It's a big busy mess of a place. Cars everywhere. People everywhere.

It's a weird old place. It looks European but has the vibe of a Southeast Asian city with its street sellers and its risking your life when crossing the road. I think I like it though, it is one of those cities that's just doing its thing and not making any concessions to tourists. 

It was all looking a little bit religious when I arrived. Another of those quirks of serendipity had me arrive in town in time for a papal visit. A bit of a strange choice of state visit a country that (by birth) is 70% Muslim and of the remaining Christians two thirds are orthodox.  Added to that forty years of communist dictatorship has somewhat undermined the traditional belief system. Still everyone was excitable, there were popebased flags and big screens everywhere. Sort of like a rock concert. So we got involved. It's a bit weird seeing an older gentleman dressed in gold flying through the crowd striking his best Freddie at LiveAid poses.

What do you know about Comrade Hoxha? Not a fat lot? Here's a summary. He did some dictating in this Albania. He dumped Cold war Russia as an ally because he thought it was too liberal. He did the same to pre-Tianneman Square China. In the Dorling Kindersley Top10 Bonkers Communist Dictator charts he's sitting at Numbet three. One of the ways he crippled Albania's economy was by building a lot of bombshelters everywhere. Turns out there's one under the hostel. It was full of soot and cobwebs. I got filthy.

I had a break from the city yesterday and headed for Berat. One of those old towns that are all Unesco-y. Once again I got got by the African style public transport which dropped me on the edge of town, approximately half an hour from where my map started. Obviously I didn't realise that for half an hour and spent the sweaty walk internally whining that the city didn't look that pretty.

Albania, much like Bosnia Herzegovina before it, has again challenged by preconceived ideas. Turns out they lived here as Illyrians pre Roman and pre Greek. Turns out that they're a bit miffed that it is the Roman name that has stuck rather than the more catchy Shqiperia.

Back in Tirana again now. Trying to see what the city is like when it's not all Poped up.

Capital?

So Podgorica. That's a city that's just wrested the title of "Capital City that's least like a Capital City" from whoever had it before. Bandar Seri Bagawan maybe? It's got a bit of a Basildon vibe going on, which isn't exactly what I look for in a capital.

The neighbouring capitals seem to think it's not worth the effort either. The bus from Sarajevo left from a tiny station in suburban nowhere and to get to Tirana I have just had to change buses twice. To be fair the journey from Montenegro is probably weird enough to warrant more space. I bought a ticket from Ulcinj to Tirana only to get kicked out of the bus at the first Albanian town we came to and told to get in a stranger's minibus. Said minibus took me to somewhere not all that central in Tirana and dropped me off at a roundabout. Not especially convenient. Still I'm in Albania.

But enough of that, tales of the city can wait until the next post. Here's some things about Podgorica:

• There's a taxi company called bum taxis.
• There's a citywide art installation of five-metre high Transformers.
• We saw a tortoise crossing a road about 100 metres from the town centre.
• The local delicacy is a sausage wrapped in cheese, deep fried and covered in a blue cheese sauce.
• The "old town" appears to be 40m x 15m.
• They close off all the main roads in the city centre at night and rent out tiny cars for children. 

Consider that city summarised.

_____________________

Can I dedicate this post to Cathryn Rees please? I only met you a handful of times but everyone of them was a blast. Thanks for the memories.

Freedom Fries

A surprisingly large amount of people have been asking about the referendum. It's almost like a country of four million trying to get independence from a larger, more shouty neighbour may be rather poignant in Sarajevo...

I've spent three days here now and it's largely been three days of having to reevaluate my position on everything. I can't think of a city where I have squeezed in more learning. Or heard more things that have made me shiver.

Anyway, BiH, it's been an honour and a privilege to have you as Country No. 70, you have been an absolute gem.

Thinking Things That I Just Can't Abide

I'm fairly sure that I have said this before, but I am really glad that I grew up in Britain. Some of the things from the last couple of days have put the Britpop Wars of '95 into something of a perspective...

I spent two nights in Mostar, it was a fab city with its coffee shops and minarets. I can't quite put my finger on why I liked it so much - something to do with the vibe, maybe, or because anyone you spoke to was superfriendly - but even the swamps of tourists didn't dampen my enthusiasm for the place.

Took a day trip to Bragaj, another obscenely picturesque village with cliffs and waterfalls and castles and pomegranate trees. Not certain what I expected from BiH but it wasn't so much in-your-face beauty. I sound so much like a hippy I've just been sick in my mouth.

Currently I'm in Sarajevo. Now this is a city that has been "next on the agenda" for about eight years now. I'm surprised that it has taken me so long to get here, equally I'm fairly surprised about what I found when I got here. It's billed as the city where East meets West, I thought that that would mean that you had minarets and skyscrapers dotting a grey skyline. I wasn't expecting a grand European boulevard to give way to a full Arabian nights picturebook bazaar.

Don't Forget '93

I'm in Mostar, which sounds like a spaceship but isn't. It's actually a marble-clad, old town in Herzegovina with a famous bridge.

Let's rewind. Today I have done four border crossings, which I think is a personal best.

You want me to rewind some more. Okay then.  Yesterday we arrived in Montenegro, which is crazy beautiful. We arrived in Podgorica, then took the Montenegro greatest hits bus ride past the old capital, along the hillside above Budva before arriving in the Bay of Kotor.

We spent last night in Kotor proper. A tiny place full of old town charm, cruise ships and sirens. It meant that this morning's visit to the mountains wasn't quite as tranquil as it might have been.

Today's marathon bus journey was so scenic it was a joke. Bay of Kotor, Dubrovnik, Dalmatian Coast. Big landscapes a-gogo.

Weirdest thing I've eaten: black risotto. Disappointingly bland.

Another Belgian Waffle

Well I've been spending most of the weekend trying to come up with a good Ghent-based pun, but I can't find one. There must be one there - I feel like my punnability has deserted me.  All through the city there were signs with "Gents" on and each time I assumed that it was either a toilet or a male only do (e.g. Gents Circus).  It never was.

Still Ghent is a spectacularly ugly name, especially for somewhere that is (in the main) spectacularly pretty.  I say "in the main", I get the distinct impression that they don't expect visitors to walk from the (fairytale) railway station to the centre of town. Not exactly chocolate box stuff.

So yeah, I've been to Belgium, I spent a day in Ghent doing Ghent-type stuff wandering around cobbled streets, eating noses and whinging that the light show is somewhat over-hyped. And drinking beer. Them Belgians seem to have a different view to beer to us, there's no way that they could drink it in England quantities, not with so many unfenced canals about.  I had a low alcohol beer - "For the ladies" - it was 6%.

Spent yesterday in Brussels.  It's weird for me to take an instant dislike to cities but me and Brussels didn't get on. Couldn't quite pin my finger on why. Maybe it was because everyone I encountered was rude.  Or because the street sweepers didn't street sweep until tourist crowds were fully mobilised.  Or because it was really hard to get a map. Or because the Manneken Pis is easily the least spectacular "site" I've seen.  Or maybe it's just a rubbish city. That said, the Grand Place is impressive (even if it does have an wieldy amount of idiots in it), as is Atomium and I stumbled across a neighbourhood between Gare-midi and The Courts of Justice that seemed like a lot of fun, pity I had to get a train before exploring. It didn't seem interesting enough for me to rush back. Ho hum.

I ate me my first steak tartar.  That's another one of those weird food boxes that needed a ticking.  Not been a bad week for firsts, this one.

In other news, I spent the travelly part of the trip reading Half Plus Seven; definitely worth a read if you fancy jumping on the new Welsh literature bandwagon.  And frankly who doesn't?

Wem Bah Lee Wem Bah Lee Wem Bah Lee

I went and saw that England play at that Wembley. That's a box tick, right?

As with most of my forays into watching sport, I am not wholly sure that I "got" it.  It seemed a bit like watching football at home, only with a bit of a breeze amd a lot more squinting. 

The whole experience wasn't unpleasant - a bit of a calming lava lamp vibe going on.  Although that may have been due to the anaesthesia of the match. Almost like the football was sedate enough that it wouldn't distract you from the adverts. Since leaving the stadium I have bought a Vauxhall and texted the antisocial behaviour number. Those youths on the bus were making a mighty rumpus.

A Little Bit on the Primitive Side

The Battle of the Cut.  The two biggest shows of the summer on the same street at the same time.  Old Vic vs Young Vic. Tennessee Williams vs Arthur Miller.  The Crucible vs A Streetcar Named Desire.

For my money, there was no competition.  

Maybe I'm just a Philistine but I just didn't get The Crucible.  Without watching it during the McCarthy era, it just seemed to be overblown, backward-peasant voyeurism.  It played like Game of Thrones filler but without the special effects.  Or the sense of fun. 

Streetcar wins.  That is all.  

The Ian Hunter Museum

I went to the Ian Hunter Museum - or the Hunterian as it styles itself - now I don't know all that much about Mott the Hoople but it's fair to say that some of the early stuff wasn't quite so pop. A sloth foetus in a jar. A sliced up dogs head. A presentation about the reproductive organs of sparrows. A skeleton where the muscles have turned to bone...

You can sort of see why they didn't go mainstream until they did a Bowie song.

Silly Season

Aah, I remember festival season as a whippersnapper Dead keen on music and trying to see everyone. When two bands that you wanted to see clashed you chose and stuck with it for fear of missing even a bit of one. I'd hardly drink anything to make sure I didn't miss anything.

Now I'm not sure what has happened. I guess I don't take festivals as seriously. I seem to have become one of those people that goes to a festival to escape from reality, to wander about getting distracted by shiny things rather than trying to see as many bands as possible in a day - I used to hate those people. Or maybe I just don't like music. 

Standon Calling was this weekend. And as ever I had a great time. But I'm not certain that I saw any bands. Well not the whole way through, by the third song they'd normally been dismissed as sounding like a not-as-good Toots and the Maytals / Longpigs / Freakpower and I'd wandered off to try to get a hit of something genuinely new. Or watch some Mexican wrestling. Or Rockaoke.

Bands that I did enjoy:
Interiors - terrible name. Kind of like Belle and Sebastien.
Imperial Leisure - not certain if that's a terrible name or not. Sound like Audiobullys.
The Cuban Brothers - you know the Cuban Brothers, you saw them at bestival that year, more vaudeville than band.

And Beans on Toast. What kind of festival gives Beans on Toast an hour set on the main stage? A ridiculous one. And what a set. He won the crowd over early on. Bigg Jeff sang along to Who is Bigg Jeff. He did all the 'hits' - I was surprised that MDMAmazing was an actual singalong with an actual amount of actual people seeming to know all the actual words to a fairly obscure and quite wordy folk song. But I guess that that's the Standon Calling way.

1066 And All That

Nothing says British seaside town like needle disposal points in public toilets.

I've been to Hastings.  It was ace. It was the first day of carnival and they take that nonsense seriously. Beach parties.  Street parties.  Pop up restaurants. Heroic volumes of alcohol. Got it covered.  The kick off event is the Tug of War - we got there for the 10.30 start: we felt that we had a heap of catching up to do; everyone seemed to be about four pints in - and the whole town seemed to be there.  And the drinking continued.

It was like 28 days later in Old Hastings this morning.  A sea of crushed plastic glasses. Candy floss tumble weed bowling across the street. Herring gulls pecking at beerstained corpses.  We got the hell out of dodge and headed for Battle, to try and get some of that history stuff.  What we actually found was a touristy ghost town with overpriced parking - who would have thought?

Speaking of history, isn't it strange that the only dates that everyone knows end in '66? The Alamanni attack on the Roman Empire; the Battle of Benevento; the Death of Frederik V of Norway - all of the dates that everyone knows...

To fully embrace the staycation vibe we camped in that Hastings. Aside from festivals I've not camped anywhere in over five years. I don't remember ankle deep brown water in the showers being a thing when I used to camp.  It appears to be a thing now.  Not certain that it added to the camping experience for me.

Millions of Mischiefs

Don't you hate it when you turn up to a well-reviewed, barn-stormer of a show only to find that that night's performance is actually in Norwegian? Ho hum. Still it sort of fitted with the show and it did mean that I discovered the Norwegian Coffee Song - which is ridiculous - I've found a mediocre version for you.

I went to see Julius Caesar.  I've seen it a few times now, but never realised how much teen fiction steals from it - Mortal Instruments; The Fault in Our Stars; about a third of the characters from Hunger Games (I mean, Caesar Flickerman - how did I not notice that before?) - so I'm laying claim to Millions of Mischiefs before anyone else does.

Talking of YA fiction, just finished the Daughter of Smoke and Bone trilogy. That's worth a read.  Although I am nervous that it might be a gateway drug to hardcore fantasy.

In food news - foos - hats off to Merry Berry Chocolates for giving me something that was too spicy to eat. Their scorpion death chocolate has been doing the rounds for a couple of years now and is tasty as. Whatever they gave me on Friday night made the scorpion death taste like Milkybars, it left me seriously concerned that my mouth might slip out of my face.

A Toast for the Douchbags

So I went to Wireless Festival.

Now I knew when I booked it that I was too old for it, that it would be full of people that listen to Radio 1; people that know what an Iggy Azalea is.  I was out of my depth. It's three years since I last went to a Big Festival - I didn't enjoy it then. It was stupid of me to go.  I admit that. So the following rant needs to be put in the context that this is all my fault.  No one else to blame. That being said...

Right let's gloss over the bulk of the day, ignore the terrible choice in expensive drinks, ignore the shambolic between set deejaying, and start with Pharrell. He put on a karaoke set absolutely chock full of hits (Boom).  He also spent a lot of time between songs preaching about equality between the sexes; spouting sickly, quasi-feminist platitudes - "Who's hear today with a woman that's going to change the world?" This was made even more sickly when he launched into everyone's favourite pro-rape anthem. Aah, equality and rape - what a hero. Sorry, did I say hero? It had the right amount of letters.

Still at least the Pharrell set was a crowd pleaser (albeit for a crowd who can't spell hypocrisy). Next came Kanye West, the main event. For just about the biggest pop performer in the world I was expecting some sort of stage show - this wasn't so much the case - no stageset, poor sound quality, no visuals, for a fair chunk of the show the big screens were turned off - this wouldn't be so much of a problem either at a smaller festival, or a festival populated by smaller people - but there seems to be a correlation between obvious pop and steroids so all that about fifty percent of the crowd could see were enormous shoulders.  

Still he did give us a Spectacle.  It was a masterclass in dividing a crowd - stopping songs part way through to have a chat with his entourage, not bothering with his own songs to concentrate on his side project stuff, wearing a beaded face mask for most of the gig.  And then the piece de resistance, a twenty-ish minute rant about the benefits of creativity over celebrity from a man who married a reality TV star.  At the five minute mark the boos started; at the ten minute mark people started leaving; still, it's a show that people will talk about, that you had to be there to be a part of something bigger, something unique - which I guess is the point of live music.

Can't help but think the Festival organisers may be giving back a few more refunds more Drake's cancellation tonight than they may have done.

Let's Get Mythical

City where the walls were built by Cyclops? Box ticked.

Yesterday I went to the ruins of Mycenae, a town built by the son of a God; a man whose claim to fame was cutting the head off a gorgon. Home town of Agamemnon: a man who led the mythical ten year siege of a town that may or may not have existed.

Still the ruins were proper old. But then I guess they had to be seeing as cyclops have been extinct a fair while.

This trip is the first time I've used TripAdvisor. Not sure I get it. Don't get me wrong, I love a ranking as much as the next geek and (as, if you've read anything I've ever written, you will know) I'm not above a snarky dismissal of something of historical or cultural importance. I just don't know how you can filter through the mire of uninformed nonsense on there to find any way of benchmarking anything. Admittedly, my research was limited to something in the region of eight minutes, so there could well be an "ignore all idiots" button which I missed. But:

Case Study 1 - the Bavarian Lion
Synopsis of review: it's off the beaten track but well worth the effort of getting there.
TripAdvisor rating 4 out of 5.

Reality: A mediocre (but respectfully monumental) statue of a lion in a grave yard in the suburbs.

So what is that 4 out of 5 rating for then. Surely it can't be of all "tourist attractions" everywhere (I'm not even going to start on the semantics of what constitutes a tourist attraction). I would have said that the Parthenon was the only genuine five star-er in the country. Which would put the lion on par with the Agora, the monasteries in Meteora or the ruins of Delphi. It's not. On this basis you are looking at one star at best.

Is it of things to do in Nafplio? It's neither the biggest nor the most activity-packed town I've ever been to but it does have three castles, four museums, a beach, a "charming" old town and Unesco approved ruins. I wouldn't have thought that the lion would out muscle them.

So is it of lion statues? Well I'm no expert on lion statues but the ones in trafalgar square are better. And I think there's a pretty good one in the British Museum.  And a pretty famous one in Switzerland. If we're using the Lucerne Lion as our five star, lion statue benchmark then the Bavarian lion is a solid two, maybe nudging a three if you catch it when you're in a good mood. Rather than in the mood of someone who has sweated through suburbia to see a not-to-be-missed sight rather than a mediocre lion statue.

So what does the four stars relate to? Answers on a postcard marked "Too much time thinking about things that don't matter".  

Iced Coffee and Octopus

I'm in Nafplio. What do you mean 'where?' Well you know Greece has got that cartoon hand sticking out the bottom? I'm in the armpit of the thumb (does that have an actual name? It should do).

Anyway, Nafplio. It's the former capital and now appears to be a quaint, cobbled place where Greek tourists come.

Found some more ruins -The Acropolis of Tyrines - that's a three and a half thousand year old, Unesco listed ruin, that. Weirdly they don't seem to be mentioned anywhere - it's like the "city" is ashamed of them. Still they were walking distance from the middle of nowhere that we're staying in (we're right next to an artichoke field; I'd never seen artichokes growing before) and had a goof level of climbability. Although the more rickety bits had been cordoned off. Health and safety gone mad. I blame the EU.

Greece is the Word

Not really sure what I expected Athens to be like. But it wasn't this. Which is ridiculous as if I'd thought about it logically, it is how it should be. There's a lot of marble and a lot of squares and a surprising amount of green. And ruins. Heaps and heaps of really old ruins.

Had cheese pie overlooking the Agora: didn't see Socrates. Still the view was better than the sickly beige mush I ate. The Agora is all impressive and that, but I couldn't help thinking that the information boards were aimed more at scholars of Hellenic architecture than the proverbial man in the street. I could have done with a few definitions of a few words. And then a few descriptions as to what the context actually meant.

Went up the big flat hill to see that Parthenon. Was suitably impressive, although I did that thing where I took the wonder for granted and spent my time squinting at hawks. I couldn't quite get my head around the fact that the temple and the top floor of the Acropolis Museum were the same size.  The optical illusion messed with my mind.

Investigating New Leeds

I made a fair crack at squeezing as much as is physically possible into a weekend. Admittedly more by accident than design, but ho hum.

Friday night I went to see The Roof. On paper it sounds exactly the right amount of ridiculous. A seemingly-dystopian, computer-game-themed, rooftop-set, free-running show in a disused car park on the south bank where everyone wears headphones for that personalised sonic experience.  The first five minutes were ace, it properly made use of the headphones and set the show up pretty well.  Unfortunately that was about as good as it got. The chosen computer game was something akin to Jet Set Willy or Treasure Island Dizzy: eighties platform nonsense where not really anything happens.  This doesn't make for spectacular viewing. Disappointing seeing as the premise was so good. 

Spent the bulk of this weekend in Leeds.   city that I've been to a heap of times but never really had a chance to explore.  This time I explored.  I got taken to art galleries in breweries, gigs in record shops, bars with not so secret cinemas in the basement, gigs in social clubs and pubs where it's deemed acceptable to add both pork belly and battered black pudding to a burger. Leeds: box ticked. 

Stopped at the Yorkshire Sculpture Park on my way home, mainly to see the Ai Weiwei (everyone's favourite dissident) exhibition.  I appreciate that he's not all that able to curate shows around the globe at the minute, but I'm not going to lie, I expected there to be a bit more to it.  There were five exhibits; two of which were really good, two I didn't get and one that punches you in the face with how clever it is - and no one, except art critics, likes that. 

CAPITALISED adjectives

Just seen the Festival Players do The Comedy of Errors.  The first scene was dreary and stuttery and I really did fear the worst. The rest of the play was a big, camp romp of crossdressing tomfoolery- everything that is ace about Shakespearean Comedy. It was in the grounds of Ingatestone Hall - not a bad little venue when the sun's out - I feel a bit guilty that it's the first time I've ever been there.

In other Shakespeare news, Antony and Cleopatra is just Romeo and Juliet only with politicians instead of giddy teenagers, right.  I'd seen it before, but didn't remember exactly how much it is identical.  This one was at the Globe and had Jack from London's Burning and Phil Daniels in it; for some reason I couldn't take it completely seriously.

I also went to the cinema this week. It's a while since I've been.  Now they have a thing called the IMPACT screen. I didn't wholly understand it. I think that the bannerline describes it adequately:
IMPACT is the ultimate way to experience blockbuster movies, SPECTACULAR screens, SENSATIONAL sound, SUPERB stadium seating, extra leg room and even Bean Bags!
From what I could work out it just meant that there were UNNECESSARY adjectives cluttering up the place.

Craic to the Future

I'm in Dublin. I have a hangover. I think I can only blame myself. I spent yesterday evening craicing it up in Temple Bar like a true Guinnesswhiskeyirishrover cliché.

Disappeared out into the countryside today. Went to a place called Howth, a fishing village on a spit which prides itself on its foodiness. Particularly its seafood. Sadly the aforementioned hangover dictated that we ate a full Irish rather than the lobster.  Whitepuddingtastic.

Heads are Turning Like Windmills

Happy Kate Tempest week. Her new album is out and, like everything else she does, is ace. Like a more poetic version of a grand don't come for free, albeit without the bangers.

I'm a bit worried about my theatre addiction. Four times in a week seems excessive.

Times two and three were superficially very similar. Both spartan family dramas in a domestic setting. Both minimalist productions in supercool theatres.

I've been keeping half an eye on Frantic Assembly since seeing them be amazing fifteen years back. This latest show had the obligatory impressive choreography but didn't quite blow my socks off.

A View from the Bridge was thoroughly sock off blowing. There's not much left of the run, so you may have to book your tickets now. Right now. Do it.

Gorgeous as the Sun at Midsummer

I ventured over to the West Midlands, now that's not somewhere I venture all that often. I mainly went for middle class reasons, to go to see some of that Shakespeare in that there Stratford-upon-Avon. I saw me a Henry IV Part One and a Henry IV Part Two. Now call me churlish, but I'm not certain that anything actually happened in H4.2, it just seemed to be lots of chat followed by an unsatisfying conclusion.  I just didn't really get it. I think I might have been a bit spoilt by all the other Henry's which are back to back action chock full of wars and stuffs. Hmmm.

Still Stratford was lovely, full of parks and rivers and sun. I saw Shakespeare's grave and loads of shops with Shakespearean pun names.  Didn't pass a Millets, but I'm fairly sure if I had the sign in the window would have said "Now is the Discount of our Winter Tents."

Whilst I was out west I visited Coventry for the first time. I don't mean to do it down, but I've probably been to prettier cities than Coventry. I almost felt like the big bright shiny sun was doing the city a disservice - I feel that the post communist chic would have benefited from snow. Or at least fog.

Feelgood Theatre

I saw Blood Brothers last night.  It was very good, but I can't help but feel I've been missold. I was expecting a heartwarming tale of inter-class friendship; that is not what I got. What I got fell very much into the "less than heartwarming" category.

Bit of a contrast to the last theatre trip.  I went to see The Play That Goes Wrong at the weekend. It made me laugh. A lot. Probably the most I laughed since the last time I saw Mischief Theatre do a something. They're touring at the moment - Essex types I urge you to go to see it in The Palace in June - everyone else you'll have to go to Darlington. Or wait til it gets another run in the West End in the Autumn.  Either way see it. 

A Local Post for Local People

Morning, happy bank holiday to you all. And apologies if this post is a bit Chelmsford-centric. Not certain why I feel like I need to apologise for that any more than my normal London-centric offerings, but I do. Something about the provincial hinterland, I guess.

Have you seen Smith Hughes Close? Of course you haven't.  There is no reason why you should. It's off Kings Road, just up from the Coop. And it looks awesome. Hip architecture in a fairly grim estate. Is this the start of gentrification? Is it only a matter of time before the New Barn reopens as a gastropod and the phone unlocking shop starts selling pancetta?

Talking of pancetta, I went to Sapori for the first time this week.  Thought I would try out that Tastecard thing. Turns out that 2 for 1 doesn't work if you double up on starters instead of getting dessert. That irked me more than it should. Especially as dessert starter was nowhere near as nice as starter 1. Crikey that's a middle class problem.

Blood And Revenge Are Hammering

I went to see Titus Andronicus.  It was brutal. It was proper B-Movie ultraviolence - a nice tale of rape, mutilation and mum jokes - but cultural because it was Shakespeare. One of the most fun things I've seen at the Globe - and with a lot of the action happening in the crowd, one of the most memorable too.

The lights here go off at midnight. Fairly sure I've cycled in the dark before, but this time it seemed really dark - I guess there was limited mooniness. Kinda weird, knowing that you can be seen from a fair way away but that you can't see anyone else around. Kinda sinister.

Urine For A Treat

I saw that there Urinetown.  I'm not going to lie to you, I saw it on the basis of its name alone. Urinetown? They actually called it that. Still it was strangely fun. And very much not like any other musicals I've seen. It had a tremendous body count.  You don't get that in Cats.

I saw Phil Wang's Edinburgh Warm Up show last night.  The crowd didn't seem to get him, which was a bit of a shame.  Not least because on more than one occasion I was the only person laughing, which always makes you feel a bit like a simpleton.

And I'd like to think I'm not.  Even if I did go to see a show because it had urine in the title.

Hip London Stuff

I did one of those hip London things the other day, but I had to sign the Citizens of Beaumont Official Secrets Act, so can't tell you anything about it. Which doesn't make for that interesting a blog post.

Hip London stuff like that, though, does make me pretty grateful that I live close enough to a city where stuff like that happens.  There really can't be many places in the world where everything (by which I mean people with the inclination and resources to put something on and people with the disposable wealth to participate) aligns so that something like that can exist.

Ultimate Warrior died this week. When I was ten he was pretty much my hero.

Quiche, Quinoa and Quail Eggs

Why is it only middle-class foods that begin with Q?

That wasn't really what I meant to start this post with, but it was bugging me today. I'm not sure if I'd be less bothered if they used the Qs properly, rather than had them as la-di-da Ks: keesh and keen-wa just doesn't sound as hoity toity.

Anyway, what I actually meant to do was add to my increasing mountain of Kate Tempest flattery. It seems like there's nothing she can't do. I saw her latest play this weekend, it was ace.  Fun and funny and powerful and emotional and all round better than it had any right to be. And it had Michelle Gayle in it.  And she's not aged since my sweetness was her weakness twenty years ago. Only one slight criticism: the title. Hopelessly Devoted - I can't hear it without hearing Stockard Channing wailing.

I saw that I Can't Sing thing too. Not certain that I need to write too much about it, as a whole heap seems to have been written. It was a mighty silly slice of lowest common denominator fun and trying to read any more than that into it seems to be missing the point somewhat.

_____________________

Here's a conversation:
- "Have you read the Cappuccino Years?"
- "No, I never read Adrian Mole as a kid and I feel that it's a bit late to read it now.  It seems a bit time dependent."
- "What are you reading now?"
- "..."
- "Sorry I didn't hear that."
- "Angus, Thongs and Full Frontal Snogging."

Writes of Passage

World Book Day came and went without any real impact (I thought that going to work dressed as Pressia Belze may lose me some respect in the eyes of my colleagues) other than leaving a reading list trailing in its wake.

And what a peculiar little list it is. It's fifty books to read before you're sixteen, roughly split between classics and teen fiction with a handful of books that don't really fit into either camp (Jodie Picoult and James Herbert).  On the whole the list was pretty spot on - Hunger Games; The Fault in Our Stars; The Book Thief; The Night-time Incident of the Curious Dog are all heaps of fun.  Now I'm not certain about the inclusion of some of the classics - Although I can sort of see Jane Eyre (if you don't read it as a thirteen year old girl you're never going to read it) - Catch-22 is a fair contender for my favourite book but I'm fairly sure it would have just left me bewildered if I'd tried to read it at 14.

Some of the modern teen choices (and omissions) were curious.  By which I really mean; I will fight anyone who tells me that they enjoyed Skullduggery Pleasant more than The Dead.

There's a couple of books that I keep seeing around and thinking I should read, like Wonder, which are now in my head a bit more validated because of their inclusion in a list (which is weird of me). And ashamed to say that there were a couple of books that I'd not even heard of, which is pretty terrible of me.

I've done stuff other than look at lists about teen fiction, honest. I saw The Weir.  That's a thing that a grown up would do, right? I also saw Russell Brand, I'm not certain that I can say the same about that...

Munchen Glad Rags

Happy Fasching, people.

I've had another one of those happy accidents where I've ended up somewhere foreign for one of the big party things. We're in Munich, it's Rose Monday and everyone is in fancy dress and drunk on schapps. The streets are lined with trampled confetti and the beerhalls are full of lecherous drunks dressed as predatory clowns.

Still, Munich good. It's a properly pretty city which seems designed purely as a purveyor of pig and beer - you're going to think I'm exaggerating but the main market actually sells nothing else. It's like it's been designed for my optimum weekend break.

Went to that Black Forest yesterday, to see chateaux and eat gateaux. Saw Neuschwanstein (the castle from the Country House single, britpoppers), that's one of the most picturesque things to see in Germany, right? Unfortunately it was really misty, so could see almost nothing. Rubbish.

Still, beer and pork good.

Australia Greatest Hits

Back in England and my body doesn't really know which way is up. I'd say that it's confused as to why it's getting dinner food at breakfast time, but it expects that. It's probably far more confused about why it's been up for such a very long time - consequently there's a mid-level chance that my fingers and brain won't work together all that well and I'll type something even more non-sensical than normal.

Anyway, that was Australia.  The aim was to see the best bits, the greatest hits and I think I made a fair crack at it. Five pretty diverse bits of a massive, massive country in a fortnight.

But what about the other corners? Why didn't I get down to Tasmania to try and see those slobbery bonecruncher things? Or get to the Sweaty North to see the properly big crocodiles?  Or Ningaloo, because everyone knows that that's the better of the two, right?

Guess I might not be done with Oz yet...

P-P-P-Put Down That Penguin

Before I left an awful lot of people said "You're going to Melbourne? You have to go to Phillip Island to see the penguins." Those people were wrong.

On the way there I stopped at a self-styled koala sanctuary.  I've been to more depressing places but they've generally been genocide memorials.

Phillip Island itself was ace: brutal coastlines and a whole heap of wallabies. Went to the Nobbies where there was essentially a penguin council estate. Lots of penguins living in artificial burrows.

The Penguin Parade (note the capitals) itself was somewhat depressing. I'm guessing that the marketing team went for Penguin Parade as "tiny, terrified birds walking across a beach in the dark whilst getting disorientated by shrieking dunderheads" just didn't have the same ring. Still, cool to see wallabies.

Batmania

I'm in Melbourne, a city nearly called Batmania. Turns out I like it here, with its laneways and coffee and museums and gastroculture and art.

Ticked a few boxes yesterday:
Great Ocean Road (pretty spectacular).
Koalas in the wild (furry balls in a tree).
Wild parrots (well scarlet rosellas) eating out of my hand (very cool).
And, unexpectedly, a helicopter ride (Impulse flew over the Twelve Apostles and Loch Ard Gorge. As one does).

Beautiful Australian Weather

Fifth stop, fifth time zone. My bodyclock is officially confuzzled.

Still, Sydney with its opera house and its harbour bridge, that's Australian, right? The weather isn't. The weather is thoroughly English, I wore a cagoule.

I also got right into the city centre side of things straight away. Mixing it up with the Valentine's couples at the opera house. Fairly sure I was the only person in that suited and booted bar that hadn't changed since their last desert hike.

I've spent the last couple of days taking it easy in Manly and exploring the parks around the northern beaches. They have different animals in their parks; not just limited to hedgehogs and foxes. Top three Australian things that we came close to running over:
1.  A lyre bird - which is basically a peacock which is good at impressions - decided to cross in front of us.
2. A wallaby bounded beside the car for a bit, before swerving into our path.
3. A kookaburra didn't come very close to getting run over, but a top two seemed silly, and kookaburras are Australian and I was in a car, so it's going on the list.

Big Red Middle

I'm in the belly of the continent, about as remote as it gets. That's unfair,  I'm apparently in the 4th largest "city" in the Northern Territory. It's a hotel complex. Which probably says more about how very empty Australia is than anything else. Still it is big, red and really flat. Which is pretty much what I was expecting.

Yesterday I visited Kata Tjuta (formerly the olgas), the second most famous rock formation around here. It is really big and really red.

Watched sunset at Uluru. One of the most average sunsets I've ever seen. Just cloudy. The big red rock stayed a greyish brown throughout.  M'eh. I tried sunrise this morning, a second chance to see the rock change colour. It was amazing. Not the colour change, but the fact that there were at least ten tourist coaches there. That's the other side of 500 people getting up before 5 to see light refract at a rusty stone, in the hope that it glowed golden. It didn't. It just stood on the plain like a moustache without a face.

Still no witchetty grubs. Not for lack of trying. I asked a park ranger if he could fix me up: "Sorry mate, it's only the Aboriginal women that know where to find them, and they haven't really bothered since the supermarket opened." Fair.

Headbutting Jellyfish

Cairns knows how to do February.  Rain rain rain.  Just like home.

Cairns is a bit of a weird place, it's like an English seaside resort, only twenty degrees hotter and fifty percent more humid. And where you can't swim in the water because of the risk of irukandji jellyfish. And with trees full of fruitbats and parakeets. And easy access to two massive tourist destinations.

Yesterday it was the jungle. Crocodile spotting on the Daintree River (spotted), Cassowary spotting on Cape Tribulation (failed, saw a turkey though, which is sort of the same) and Authentic Aboriginal Experience spotting at the Mossman Gorge - I know it was authentic because the t-shirts in the giftshop told me it was.

Today I put on my goth strength suncream and went to the Barrier Reef.  That's one of the biggies, right? I tell you what, it's quite pretty.  A whole heap more blues than I was expecting - which sounds ridiculous for an aquatic seascape. Saw me most of the main ones: shark; turtle; stingray; Nemo - that's the Disney one, not the Verne one - that would've probably been weirder and somewhat more scary. Talking of scary, the reef is chockfull of jellyfish, turns out these ones don't sting, which is lucky - I found that out by headbutting one. You can take the boy out of Essex, but he'll still headbutt the locals. Lad.  

Rottnest Monster

Sun? Blue skies?  Turns out this Australia place has a different take on February to me.

I'm in Perth, keeping it West Coast. Like Pac. The whole town seems to be a bit buzzy with fringe festivals and Chinese New years. Dragons getting in the way, all over the show. Because of the buzziness I didn't actually get to explore all that much of Perth. The irony. Spent more time in Fremantle, Perth's answer to Chorlton.

I did get to Rottnest, a nearby island which is chock full of quokkas a cute-nosed, fluffy-eared, ratlike marsupial that's handy in scrabble. Not even poisonous, not very monstrous at all, quokka.

Back in the USSR, well UAE

You know how I seem to keep returning to cities? And often cities that I was a bit indifferent to the first time. Well a quirk of flight changes has taken me back to Dubai. Whoop.

Started off the other side of the Creek. That smells of Asia.  I'm not entirely sure what the smell is, but it reminds me of travelling and makes me wander around beaming like a fool. It also had that thing where there's loads of essentially identical shops all in a row. Eleven torch shops anyone? And because you're there everyone assumes you want what they're selling. No, I don't need any fabric, I just want some breakfast.

I'm now in Dubai Mall. Which it's fair to say doesn't smell of Asia. It smells of chain store and western capitalism. I'm selling my soul for free Wi fi.

Dubai does do bling well. There's an aquarium in the middle of the mall. What I should've been thinking: two metre shark in a shopping centre; you don't see that very often. What I was actually thinking: the plaque saying this is the biggest pane of glass in the world has gone.  I wonder where that is now.

Another Heavenly Day

I thought I was ready for Beckett. Turns out I wasn't.  I just don't think I'm clever enough.  Or too mainstream.  Liking my lowest common denominator comfort blankets when I go to the cinema, like plot or action or characters. Happy Days didn't really have any of these. I tried to read reviews afterwards to help me understand what I was missing but the first review I read used the word "Aeschylean" and even with the help of Google I don't know what that means. I assumed it was to do with Aeschylus, and my Classics knowledge is limited but didn't he increase interaction between characters?  If anyone can explain (either the meaning of Aeschylean or Happy Days - although I suspect that there's no meaning to the latter) that would be ace.

To add to my experimental theatre, I also saw experimental comedy this week - Alex Horne duetting with himself and Andre Agassi.  This was more fun than Beckett, that's for sure, although I'm not convinced it was out and out "funny".

Freedom and Whisky Gang Thegither

Happy Burns Night interweb. I'm quite a fan of Burns Night (I'm all for celebrations that involve non standard meats - which is pretty much limited to Burns Night; apparently eating hearts on February 14th isn't a thing), and at least acknowledge it most years.  This is the first time that I've noticed it going a bit mainstream, what with steak with haggis sauce at 'Spoons and 2-4-1 Irn-bru in Aldi. Viva offal and whisky.

I finally made it out to the Horniman Museum.  It's been one of those places that I've heard bits and bobs about but never anything concrete.  It sounded like some kind of mythical museum full of animals in jars and tribal masks (I've phrased that badly - the animals were not wearing tribal masks - that would be ridiculous) - which seemed just weird enough. Turns out it wasn't just hype, but a big house full of nkondi in suburban nowhere - a more impressive collection than a lot of the national museums that I've been to.

I had an unusually high number of hits following my last post. I can't help thinking it's because I used the word "Gaiaphage". FYI I've finished the story of the FAYZ now. A thoroughly enjoyable read, although something didn't sit quite right - I think it's that I didn't really like any of the characters. It was almost like they were written to appeal to a younger audience - and that can't be right, surely?

Gaiaphage Abnegation

Happy New Year peoples.

It's that time of year where no one really does anything due to that tinsel-faced doofus making us spend money on baubles.  I've mainly been using January to catch up on dystopian teen fiction - I say that as though that's different to normal. Anyway:

Gone by Michael Grant
I'd heard the basic premise - anyone over the age of fifteen disappears - but I was completely unprepared for the superpowers bit. Or the talking coyote bit. Or the green-glowing, uranium demon bit. Once I'd got my suspension of disbelief around that nonsense though, found the whole thing thoroughly enjoyable. Just need to source Light to find out how it all ends.

Divergent by Veronica Roth
Most of these dystopian YA things can have their premise summed up fairly easily (e.g. Lord of the Flies meets X-Men - which is the official redaction of the Gone series), not so Divergent.  By the time you're done trying to explain the concept you've bored yourself, let alone anyone else that may have started out listening.  The trailers for the first film are doing the rounds now and it looks all shiny, but I can't help but fear that the film will be terrible. Just mawkish teenage petulance. Again, thoroughly enjoyed the first two books, bring on the endgame.