Drum n Bass and Toilet Queues

How did it take me so long to get to the Notting Hill Carnival? I've been meaning to go for well over a decade, how has it taken so very, very long. A cocktail of apathy, busy-ness and the need to coerce friends to join me, I guess.

Glad I've been now though. I feel obliged to sneer at the over priced drinks and the enormous queues for the toilet (mighty glad I wasn't a lady - one hour. ONE HOUR.) but in reality I had a fab time, it always feels naughtily anarchic to be walking down the middle of a road, let alone with a drink in your hand.

Other things I've liked:
The Crystal Maze
It was ace. I felt just like I was on TV in the early nineties. In that I shouted into a room at the same time as everyone else, just like the guys you found really annoying when it was n for real.

Escape Rooms
You know something has gone mainstream when you have several options in Essex. Recently I have escaped both EscapeLive in Southend and the pop-up at Asylum in Chelmsford. Two very different styles.  Go on, jump on a bandwagon.

You know when you get those tingles...

Previous years I've been to the theatre a whole heap and generally enjoyed it quite a lot. This year I've checked out most of the big name shows and been continually less than whelmed.

And then Yerma happened.
Best thing I've seen since Chimerica? Definitely.
Best thing I've seen since Macbeth? Possibly.
Best thing I've seen?  Erm...
Just go see it.

Where's Big Jeff

It's that time of year where I tell you about all the exciting new bands that I saw at Standon.  In reality my Standon experience reached a new nadir. I seemed to spend far too long doing a music quiz and nowhere near enough time riding the cutting edge of the music scene.

Festival highlight: The guy from Rockaoke singing "Where's Big Jeff" to the tune of Purple Rain.  Easily pleased doesn't come close.

Politics, Hey...

I'm really enjoying politics at the moment, but feel that if I talk about it I'll say something obvious and / or trite and / or sounds like sixth form nonsense and / or I disagree with and / or regret before the rolling news cycle is out. So I'll talk about the things that happen in urban parks instead.

Castle Park, Colchester: Food and Drink Festival
In my head this was going to be sitting in the park in the sun eating and drinking all day.  In the real world that didn't happen. It was way too muddy to do any sitting; just muddy enough to do some sinking. I did manage to forcefeed weird foods into randoms though - who doesn't love shooting oysters?

Queens Square, Bristol: Comedy Garden
I chose badly.
Bad choice 1. I should have gone to Grillstock - meat and music, hmmmm.
Bad choice 2. I should have seen the Pajama Men. Instead I saw Arthur Smith and John Shuttleworth.

Arthur Smith I mainly know from panel shows, in my head I expected him to be miserable but doing fairly intelligent jokes. In reality he was just doing lowest common denominator bobbins - "ooh, I done a swear, how risque?" An utter waste of twenty minutes.

I knew nothing of John Shuttleworth.  Just had a vague knowledge of the name. Turns out he's completely cult.  Everyone else in the audience knew every word to every song and found every facial malformation cassock wettingly hilarious. Whereas I just didn't understand why a middle aged man was pretending to be a middle aged man.

Admirals Park, Chelmsford: Beer Festival
It's the premier event in Chelmsford's social calendar. The one time of the year that I can still guarantee bumping into people that I've known for all of the time yet not seen in ages. Plus there's beer. And a park. And sun.

Chalkwell Park, Southend: Village Green
The Stereo MCs look a lot like a "Just Say No, Kids" advert but at the same time haven't really changed since they were getting themselves connected twenty odd years ago. They were a lot of fun. Billy Bragg, not so much.  

Grand Torino

Once again, I've come away from a big Italian city absolutely buzzing. Turin is ace. And to think, I nearly didn't come. I checked the weather and the forecast looked somewhat apocalyptic, so I very nearly bailed - wandering aimlessly round an industrial city when you're soaked hardly ever leaves a positive memory. Still, the weather was alright - a few sunny showers - and even if it hadn't been there were more than enough museums to fill a weekend and enough porticos to get between the museums without ruining your hair.

Turin was a hotchpotch of a city. It reminded me variously of Hamburg, Antwerp, Valencia, Buenos Aires, Lisbon, Seville and just about every other city I've been to. Except, strangely, other Italian cities. It seemed more French than Italian. But then I guess that's what happens when that Napoleon replaces your walls with leafy Boulevards.

Visited the Duomo to not see the Turin shroud. Slightly disappointed that the supporting information didn't point out that it's a medieval fake. Still, never let the truth get in the way of a good yarn / faith / pilgrim exploitation opportunity.

I felt morally obliged to go to the Egyptian Museum, given its reputation. For my money it's better than the Cairo one. What it's lacking in Tutankhamun trinkets it more than makes up for by better information, a more coherent narrative and, erm, well, just being in Italy.

Ate local food at an authentic looking trattoria in a pretty street. Was a bit dissapointed. It was over rich and under flavoured. I may as well have just eaten a block of butter. Is that what all Piemonte food is like, or was I just unlucky?

Last night I had another coincidental right place / right time thing. It was Turin's Fiesta of Music: twenty odd stages around Quadrilatero showcasing music in all its forms. I saw jazz, bebop, choral, beat poetry, rock, Bjork-esque experimentation and an Italian lady singing Teddy Picker (without resorting to patriotic clichés, I reckon you'd be hard pushed to find a more English song than Teddy Picker). Great night, great city.

Bauhaus (in the Middle of our Street)

Turns out that my gut reaction to Tel Aviv - that it's just a tatty Abu Dhabi - was a little bit harsh. That said, the promenade backed by chain hotels was a whole heap more resorty than I was expecting. Not certain why, a city that claims some of the best city beaches in the world is bound to feel resorty, right?

Spent a little bit more time exploring away from the beaches today, went to the Bauhaus districts to check out the White City architecture. Some of the trees lining the boulevards are incredible - there's so many of them and they all look like their insides are falling out. Stunning.

And most amazing of all is that all these leafy boulevards lead to a central square that makes Coventry look pretty. City Hall is truly monstrous.

Anyway, heading home now. Made it through the interrogation and swabbing at border control, so have just about completed this Middle Eastern adventure.  Any surprises? Yep. If there's one thing that Indiana Jones taught me it's that they don't have Js in the Middle East - how comes just about every city I went to began with J? Jerusalem, Jaffa, Jericho, Jarash, J-tastic.

Low Points

Today I've been doing a survey of public toilets in Ramallah and Jericho and have to say, I'm relatively impressed. Generally all western style, with locking doors, soap and toilet paper. All told, this made the day a lot nicer than it could have been. That said, my preoccupation with toilets may have meant that I didn't fully appreciate, say, the oldest city on earth.

Shabbat pretty much forced me to West Bank. I hadn't fully appreciated how comprehensive Shabbat would be - it stops everything. No public transport tastic. So the nearest open pharmacy was basically Ramallah.

Went to the Dead Sea yesterday. That's pretty low. And pretty weird. My skin now feels super soft, but the Sea's healing powers have to be called into question...