In category: Life
30.4.07: Iceland
I don’t think they have Sesame Street in Iceland, but if they did it’d be pretty cool. Today, Sesame Street was brought to you by the letter ‘ð’ would be a great way to close the show. Anyway. Iceland was great. You can pretty much get an idea of what it was like by checking out the photos here.
29.4.07: New listenings…
There are so many new things I need/would like to listen to right now. So many that I thought I’d write them all down. Here they all are.
Peter Bjorn and John - Writer’s Block. Kings Of Leon - Because Of The Times. Feist - The Reminder. The Field - From Here We Go Sublime. Mark Ronson - Version. Cornelius - Sensuous. Bert Jansch - Black Swan. Mugison - Little Trip. Deerhoof - Friend Opportunity. Blonde Redhead - 23.
Like I said. So many things…
7.3.07: Suede - New Generation
Off to see Brett Anderson tonight. Having seen a couple of set list for previous nights, it’s clear he’s not going to be scared of playing some Suede stuff. I hope he plays this one, but rather doubt he will.
20.2.07: On me bike
I cycled home from work for the first time today in approximately 6 months, and the first time ever at night in London. My bike had been safely stored in the lockup in the underground car park at work for all that time and I thought that given I’m supposed to be cycling from London to Brighton in four months time, I should really crack on and get on with toning up my cycling muscles.
I’ve always used the “it’s too dark” or “it’s too cold” excuses. But the darkness wasn’t really a factor - London is pretty well lit at night - and temperature-wise I found it preferable to cycling in the baking heat of summer. You can see the route I take here. It’s just shy of 10 miles and takes just under an hour. Which is about as long as bus/tube/walk journey takes, door to door.
17.2.07: Norway diary
I’ve been to Norway for the wedding of Ben and Tanja. Here’s what happened.
Thursday
Thursday we awoke to the heaviest snowfall London has seen for years. Annoyingly, it happens to be the first day this year that we’re really dependent on the transport system working and it’s not surprising that Stanstead airport is closed. Our outbound flight is in jeopardy until mid afternoon when the runway reopens, and our flight remains uncanceled. This isn’t of help to our friends, whose canceled flight earlier in the day means an overnight stay in the airport, despite their being seats free on our site… Our flight is on schedule, and we arrive in Torp airport on time. It’s cold. Very very cold. A short taxi ride take us to the Thon Hotel in Asgardstrand - a small village near the town of Tonsberg where Tanja grew up. 69NOK (£5.70) for a glass of wine and 49NOK (£4.05) for 300ml glass of beer at the hotel bar sets the pace for the expense to follow. But it’s worth it. It’s snowing outside as we retire.
Friday
Friday morning we went for another wander around Asgardstrand before getting on the bus and heading to Tonsberg - the largest town in the area. It’s a similar size to Yeovil, with Westlands being replaced by a ship building company. It’s similarly inspiring. We make a trip to the Vinomonoplet - the state run/owned only way of getting a ‘personal’ supply of alcohol - with a plan to curtail the spiraling cost of propping up the hotel bar, after which our wander takes us up a hill where the views are amazing. Then it’s back down to find food - a tasty steak sandwich at the Harbour Cafe. We make it back to the hotel, and some more of our friends have emerged. So it’s off the pub for a few games of pool. The barmaid seems disgusted that we leave at only midnight, as more friends have arrived at the hotel. We drink our wine, play some poker, and head to bed.
Saturday
After breakfast, there’s just enough time for snow angels and snowball fight before getting ready for the wedding. The coach comes to pick the twenty-or-so of us up from the hotel to the church, and the wedding happens. I like weddings. They’re all gooey and nice, and everyone’s happy. It all went to plan. Back in the bus, and with a little help from a second run up a snowy hill, we arrive at the venue for the reception - perfectly set in snow covered countryside. We feast on reindeer steak and dance well into the wee hours to Dire Straits.
Sunday
Sunday isn’t particularly eventful. I’m mildly hungover, which is partially fixed by the huge breakfast that the hotel lay on. I awake to Thomas throwing up in the toilet, and have a hard time getting him to get up before we’re supposed to have checked out. All our friends leave for the flight home, or snow-related activities elsewhere in Norway, and the fun feels properly over. A taxi ride takes us to the station, and a hazy hour and a half later - through some of the prettiest landscape I think I’ve ever seen - we’re in Oslo, the city of museums.
Monday
Monday is thankfully hangover free. An earlyish start and we end up at the Viking Museum where we can look at some preserved Viking ships. They’re very impressive. Vikings must have been tough buggers. Then it’s on to the Kon Tiki museum - dedicated to the adventures of Thor Heyerdahl who must also have been a pretty tough bugger. He travelled from Peru to Polynesia in a raft made of balsa wood. Then a couple of years later he traveled from Morocco to South America in a boat made of reeds. Our own travels are not so adventurous, and our expedition on the T-bane takes us to Frognerseteren at the end of the line. I wish it was possible to take a 30 minute tube ride in London and end up in a Narnia-esque setting.
As we get off the train, everyone else switches to sledge. We wander down to the ‘Rest‘ where the views over Oslo are superb. We decide that blowing the best part of £100 on a two-course meal for two with a bottle of wine is a good idea. Based on the reindeer experience at the reception I order braised reindeer shank and tongue, Tom orders lamb. The waitress has a strange growl after every item ordered, coupled with a facial expression not so far removed from that of the elderly ladies that Les Dawson used to play. Unfortunately, the reindeer isn’t quite up to scratch with the tongue being a particular low point. I was expecting thin slices (as with ox tongue) but it came chopped, and still looking very much like a tongue. Which led me to think about where animals put their tongues - a thought that no amount of boiling can remove. The tongue - not wanting to offend the waitress - ended up in the toilet, via a tissue. The shank was tough, and a trauma to get though, and the vegetables were largely undercooked. Tom got off lightly. Lesson learned, I think.
Tuesday
Tuesday is another early start, and it’s off to Frogner Park to check out the statues. Followed by a fleeting visit to the National Gallery, where we find the Munch Room closed for renovation and The Scream unavailable. Not being massive fans of fine art, we meander across town to the Natural History Museum where there’s an interesting exhibition about gay animals and how homosexuality in general has been subverted/misinterpreted by science and society throughout history. Aside from the theory, it’s really quite graphic and there’s a fair amount of marine mammal gay porn on show. You really wouldn’t get this in the Natural History Museum in London. Imagine what the Daily Mail would say.
So from gay dolphin sex, we take a trip to the Astrup Fearnley Museum of Modern art, which I really enjoyed. It’s like a really well edited version of the Tate Modern. Amongst the exhibits were Damien Hurst’s sliced cows, a Tracy Emin rug, and a porcelain Michael Jackson and Bubbles. The museum is a stones throw from our hotel. We collect our bags and headed for the airport. Bye bye, Norway; it was super, thanks!
As may have been noted, I’ve got a fairly large selection of photos up on flickr. They’re organised here and here.