Oranges: The New Black

I like Seville. There's a mighty buzz about the place. Especially on a Saturday afternoon, when every square is chock full of people drinking beer. When i say "chock full", I don't mean that all the al fresco dining seats had been taken, I mean that people were standing shoulder to shoulder absolutely filling any public space near anything resembling a bar. I  asked someone what people were celebrating. Turns out it was Saturday.

There are orange trees everywhere. They give a certain Mediterranean exoticism to a boulevard of Moorish architecture or a palace garden, but when they are growing through a rundown, seventies precinct they just seem a bit desperate. In the time I was in town, I didn't see anyone pick an orange. If you had that many oranges in a UK town hey wouldn't last the weekend.

I thought Seville but give me a Wow moment. I was expecting it to come from the cathedral (biggest in the world, by a basilica technicality) or its donkey tower  (you have to bring your own donkey, disappointing). Maybe from the Real Azucar or from the enormous, fungal parasol. But no, it came from Plaza de Espana, a shiny hotchpotch of pillars and water that I really wasn't expecting.

Much like with not appreciating that Leipzig was in Saxony, I didn't appreciate that Seville was in Andalusia - I'd never really given much thought to where Andalusia was. Once I found out, well that meant Debaser was cemented into my head.

I Like The Way You Move

Gentrification, hey? To be honest, I'm surprised it took so long.

Have you been to the Duke? It's round the back of Waterloo, across the Millennium Park from the Old Vic. You may have been on a grim Tuesday night whilst waiting for a train or something. You might have walked in, then quickly left due to it seeming just a little bit intimidating. If this is the case then you probably won't understand why the mourning. Just another London pub that hadn't moved with the times.

If you've been at the weekend though, what a different place. It's karaoke armageddon.  What a stonker of a night. I've been going fairly regularly for six years now and I'm gutted that it's closing down at the end of the month (only for a refurbishment, but it's hanging hands, and I just don't see it being the same afterwards).  If you've not been, go there, you've got three 'oke opportunities left.

Last night was my last Duke. Ben sang Minnie the Moocher. Claude brought his own CD. Students made chants for all the singers. I sang Ms Jackson with a stranger. Everyone got very drunk. Standard Duke. A man at the bar said, "This is the greatest Friday night there is." He might just be right. Duke of Sussex, thanks for all the good times and here are your best bits:
 
Honest Dave * The really drunk Norwegian girl * New metal No Scrubs * Kevin Spacey * Funky Cold Medina * PK's 30th * Slurring Your Mother's Got a Penis at a bemused room * Anna Burns Burns Burns * The first time Dom sang * Hugging a tramp * Jump Around * "Jane"'s sister subverting She Loves You * The fight * But most of all, yeah, most of all, I like the way you move.
_________________

In other news I saw the Noise Next Door this week.  The whole concept of a comedy, improv boyband filled me with dread, but they had been recommended to me, so I figured I ought to see them.  They were brilliant (if you ignore the maybe ten minutes where they drifted into the self-indulgent parlour game territory).

Last week I almost posted about going to Cambridge for a gig. I couldn't think of anything to write that did't make me sound like Clarkson, so I said nothing at all.

Here's a question for you, internet, why is Cthulhu so popular at the moment.  Lately, nary a week goes by without me seeing a Cthulhu reference - is there some kind of Lovecraft revival going on that I'm unaware of? Or is it just that I mix in circles pretentious enough to reference characters in fairly obscure, 1920s, sci-fi novels

Bach to the Future

So Leipzig wasn't quite what I expected. I had heard that it was multicultural, I expected that that would mean it was a bit edgy and a bit arty. In reality it meant that it was easier to get a pho than  bratwurst. It was strangely difficult to eat German - or maybe the person I asked for recommendations was an idiot ("Where can I go for some local food? I want something really GDR." "Try Vapiano, that's really good." "Isn't that a chain Italian?") - I ended up in the German equivalent of Brewers' Fayre eating an underwhelming pile of pork.

Anyway, enough about food (never enough about food), Leipzig tricked me with some culture. They had a concert, doing some Bach at St Thomas Church where Bach was kantor. That sounded pretty Bachy (ergo pretty cultured) to me, but the whole experience turned out to be a bit religious. The bounders.

I had the obligatory bleak museum trip today - the Stasi museum in the old Runde Ecke headquarters. I think that that's the most fake noses I've seen in a museum.

Other Leipzig observations:
- they love an alleyway;
- they have probably the shiniest church i have ever seen;
- they don't seem to be set up for foreign tourists;
- I wasn't set up for week-old snow.

Talking of which, my afternoon in Berlin slip-sliding through slush was a very different Berlin to the 30 degree football frenzied Berlin that i visited a decade ago.

One other thing, the efficiency of German public transport is wildly exaggerated. I can cope with fifteen minute delays (that just reminds me of home), but unmanned stations where cash machines give out fifties and the ticket machines don't accept them smells a bit like inefficiency to me. Sort it out, Germany, I expect better of you.