Sat on the terrace at the front of the villa, surrounded by exotica. Palm trees and plants I don’t recognise from home. Interesting birds sing to me. The need to purchase insect repellent springs to mind.
Inside the villa ceiling fans rotate gently. It is a spacious living area with a kitchen bar to one side. Tons of room for the two of us. Last night after dinner we hit the local Walmart for some very basic supplies. Coffee, orange juice, bread, butter and to my delight, orange marmalade. No fresh milk from what I could see.
This morning there is no rush whatsoever to consume any of those supplies. We are having a relaxed start to the stay in Playa Del Carmen. A bit of planning. A stroll to the beach, 50 metres away. Dip in the pool. That kind of stuff.
Although we are here for 5 nights, one of which is already over, there does appear to be a lot more to fit in than is possible in that time. Chicken Itza, snorkelling, stuff like that.
A high sided pickup truck drives by with 12 or so Mexican blokes squeezed into the back, on their way to work. A few minutes later the truck went back empty the other way. Bit annoyed that I’m not quick enough off the mark to take pics of this sort of thing. It is still early.
We are staying in a gated community. Posh cars in drives. The bars and restaurants around the main drag, 5th Avenue are full of tourists flashing the cash. It’s no wonder Mexican people try to get into the USA. The land of gold and honey. For a substantial minority.
A coypu or similar has just wandered past the window. Saw a couple nosing around the pool earlier.
Carlos the concierge recommended not touching the eateries on 5th Avenue but to go to 30th Ave where the locals hang out. A bit more of a walk but less crass than 5th which almost reminded me of Bourbon Street. Not quite as bad as Bourbon Street.
There were plenty of interesting looking bars fair play. Last night we were tired having been travelling all day so we just ate, Walmarted and hit the hay.
This morning the street outside 801 Frenchmen is a hive of activity. They are filming an Amex commercial. I had hoped that the Ayu Bakehouse would be open for a bit of breakfast earlier than scheduled 8am but that wasn’t the case when I went down to enquire as to whether our taxi would be able to make it to our pick up spot.
Looks as if some touristy looking folk have rocked up to watch the action, deckchairs in hand.
Apparently they aren’t filming an Amex commercial but a show called Life and Beth starring Michael Cera. That’s him doing the press ups next to the curly haired guy whose family owns Preservation Hall. Fwiw. Not heard of him or the TV show meself but that shouldn’t come as much of a surprise. Joe knew of him.
Straightforward trip to MSY. Taxi arrived on time and we were checking in within 30 mins. A bit of a contrast the the experience getting to JFK, or LHR. I guiess MSY is smaller.
New Orleans was totally fab. We drank beer and listened to a lot of great music. Got some great posters as souvenirs from a music shop on Frenchmen. Couple of 1970s originals.
Couldn’t have picked a better location for our AirBnB. Perfect home from home in New Orleans.
It’s quite interesting to observe how touristy NOLA is. Of course we had to do the main touristy bits but once those boxes had been ticked you didn’t really need to go very much further than Frenchmen St and onwards slightly towards but not as far as the French Market.
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Btw Austin based friends I will be with you for 90 minutes or so this pm but won’t be able to meet up unless you want to come and meet me at the airport gate (AA2835) from around 1pm.
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Seat 3F en route to Austin. Comfortable and spacious fair play. Window. Don’t typically book a window but it’s just me n Jose and I figured I’d give him the option. He went aisle. Fair enough.
Sometimes when I am on a plane I just use my notebook to write. I typically do that where the use of a laptop is not convenient. On a bus for example. This does mean that if I want to upload any of the notes I have to type them in later but in the interest of being able to remember things I’ve seen on route it is worth the effort.
These could be ideas for poems, interesting observations or just something that takes my imagination. For example the street car named Desire is still in operation on the New Orleans green route as number 922. I’d never have remembered that had I not written it down. I didn’t need to look up the number later. The act of writing it down made me remember it.
It doesn’t always work out like that but the notes are there anyway so it doesn’t matter. It’s quite interesting to go back through the notebook and read the observations. It is for me anyway. People tend not to write stuff down anymore.
This aircraft is an Embraer E170/175.
Cotton wool ball clouds – seems appropriate for a cotton growing region. Do they still grow cotton in Louisiana?
When them cotton wool ball clouds get rotten you can’t grow very much cotton. They are way down yonder below us, but above the Bayoux.
The clouds above the bayoux
We stream through the air, seemingly effortless.
Most of the world is cloud covered.
Ayu Ayu Ayu
Bake house Bake house Bake house
The guy sat outside the music club differentiating with his flute. The competitive music scene of New Orleans. The battle of the banjos. Banjo battle.
We leave the people and bars of Frenchmen behind. Another smile, another tip. Thank you for coming. The banter was, mostly, good. Thank you for being there . Thank you for the beer and the chips and the French fries. french fries? What makes a fry french? The fries of France.
Willie’s doesn’t do pizza anymore. They should take the sign down. Take down the sign. Paint over the mural. Sumpin like dat.
The invasive American culture. I live in a different world. An educated professional world where people understand what I am trying to say.
The comparisons with the strata of society in the UK and USA are quite similar. The educated person will understand me and I them. Unless they only speak Chinese.
A smooth ride is expected. AHA. Sparkling water with lime + watermelon. No sweetners.
Sweet not the sparkling waters of the flow. The first flow. Dirty clouds mingle with the pure.
Tree nuts of nature’s garden have been served. Powered by plants. Distributed at 28,000 feet. Scattered in the controlled direction of my hand. moved to mouth. Munched.
Scatter my nuts! Scattrerbrained stories from the stratosphere.
Made in USA with ingredients from India, Indonesia, Mexico, South Africa, USA, Vietnam. A blend of almonds, cashews, pecans and pistachios.
Pissed achios. Inebriated in the USA. Call that a shot? Call the shots. Big shot.
Remember January 2023. It has nearly gone. Disappeared. Vanished with a click of the fingers. Blink and it’s gone. Goner. Gonner?
Fabricate, felicitate. Random words to confuse the mental palate.
It will be cold when we get to Austin. 1 degree centigrade, celcius. In the vernacular, bloody freezing. My shorts and silk Tommy Bahama shirt won’t cut it outside the safety of the airport biosphere. I shall remain cocooned where the life support system operates. Do not, I repeat do not pull that plug. Under any circumstance. Aaaaaaaarrrrrrgggggghhhhhhh.
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Flight to cancun
Watched some simon sharma and then switched to tunes whilst eating. Can’t believe it took me until I was 60 years old before finding Pink Martini. What else lies out there undiscovered. By me obvs.
The time we have left. Rest not on your laurels. Keep on exploring, discovering.
What are laurels? What are they worth. Do they have a trade in value. In the next life.
Heard some quotes by the venerable bead who had written as if it was a nobleman speaking about the Christian religion. It offered hope for a life after death. This is its chief selling point. How badly do you want to believe in that.
When you are gone there is eternal silence. Get on with it whilst you can. Whilst you are able. Dodge the bullet. What on earth are you doing putting yourself in the path of a bullet?
Heavy rain washes the streets of NoLa. Water lies on the ground in Washington Square. A slow start to the day occasioned by a heavy night in Coop’s bar. Great bar. Position A for watching the Mardi gras parade outside.
I didn’t feel the need to watch much of the parade. Watched it long enough to tick the box. Star Wars themed. A couple of the crew from the USS Enterprise came into the bar. Box also ticked for the trolley car. A streetcar named number 48. Also the New Orleans Museum of Art. Well the cafe at least. And Central Park.
This morning we are ‘doing’ brunch at Nonna’s down the road to us on Delphine. Their French Toast is to die for, apparently. Nonna’s is en route to the bus stop for the city tour. Multiple boxes to be ticked there, at least from the outside.
A trash truck, or whatever they call them, roars noisily along the street below. The rain has stopped and I can hear conversation. We have a wonderful spot on Frenchmen. Couldn’t have picked a better one really. This does not happen by chance. Extensive research goes into planning these trips.
Funnily enough I received an acknowledgement from Un Hôtel en Ville, La Rochelle for a booking in September that was made sometime before Christmas. I guess there was no rush. Didn’t even realise the booking wasn’t firm prior to the response.
Sunday morning punters have started to appear at Ayu Bakehouse. Sgood stuff in there fair play. I have just over a week to enjoy such wheaten delights before going back on the keto diet. The last four months seem to have been one long party.
This time next week we will be having breakfast at the National Hotel in Miami. South Beach. It has a very long pool. A claim to fame according to the hotel. I saw it last week on my last trip but the weather was not conducive to swimming and I wasn’t staying there anyway.
Someone walks by sipping from a takeaway coffee cup. You see a lot of this in New Orleans. There must be a cafe on every corner, perhaps. This particular chap/guy stopped to investigate something on the pavement/sidewalk, pushed it with his shoe and moved on.
All is well.
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Walked down Bourbon Street. Felt no urge whatsoever to enter any of the establishments thereon. I was carnage, even at 5pm. Our objective was Preservation Hall but turns out you had to book online. Wasn’t like that last time I went, admittedly around 30 years ago. Moved on to the Old Blacksmith’s Forge. Cool enough gaff but rammed so we went straight to Coop’s.
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Turns out that Desire still operates on the green line. Number 922.
New Orleans continues to give. A wonderful day out. Set off at around 10am and arrived early at the riverboat. Secured our boarding passes. A good half of the passengers had not realised they needed to do this so when the announcement came there was a huge queue at the ticket windows.
The steamboat cruise was memorable, partly for the fact that the food was perfectly edible. Wasn’t totes sure what to expect there. Booking for the second sitting also proved to be a result as we benefited from the views on the top deck during the commentary and only had to move down to the restaurant deck when we hit the farthest point of the cruise and turned around for the return leg.
The commentary itself was memorable for the fact that the announcer repeated each fact at least three times. Must be an American thing. Signs of the havoc wreaked by hurricane Katrina were still visible along the whole route.
Following disembarking we did a few more touristy bits including visiting St Louis’ Cathedral and purchaysing a couple of hats/caps. Couldn’t resist. Then hit the Market Cafe for a beer and listen to the band. This set the scene for the next three hours or so. We moved on and stopped at a number of establishments en route to the flat.
Rocked up at the Roosevelt for cocktails. It’s a Waldorf Astoria but didn’t feel particularly posh. Lots of tourists milling around an extensive lobby. As if a coach party had just arrived. Full of wealthy Americans of the third age.
The cocktails were good. When we got to the Sazerac there was no spare seat or even a bit of bar to prop up against so we blagged space at a table with a couple from Georgia. Conversation.
Sitting in the dark in the front room at 6am NOLA time. The street lights cast shadows through the tall sash windows.
Riverboat cruise today. Steam down the river down to New Orleans. Watch the card sharks fleece the tourists. Stay clear when the gunfight breaks out. Tables flying everywhere.
The noise of the city is all around. It is still dark but there is a suspicion of a lightning sky . Maybe only in my imagination. Maybe not.
So much to see, not enough time. A balance must be struck.
It used to be good. A bored band groans out tired tunes. Not a good sales pitch for a Creole night out. Joe hit an early hay and I headed for Frenchmen Books, leaving with a heavy bag and lighter wallet.
The sky is definitely getting lighter. The house opposite has green painted shutters.
Noises come from the Ayu Bakehouse below. The place opens at 8am but the baker will have already been in for some time, kneading his dough, plying his trade. I feel the need to buy his bread. A small loaf will suffice. Butter I have but marmalade not. Nor toaster. Kyboshes my plan. Bacon but no brown sauce. Bagels.
Not much traffic on Frenchmen at this time of day. It isn’t a busy road anyway. Doesn’t appear to be. We hit the jackpot with location. Location. Location.
We toasted the bagels in a frying pan yesterday. Wasfine. Avocado was ripper than we had anticipated and did a job.
The park gates open early on Washington Square. No insomniacs or early risers take advantage. A train blows its horn in the distance. Cowcatcher? Casey Jones pulling into town, or leaving for the open prairie. All points west.
Daylight replaces street light. The night watchman heads home.
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It isn’t always a Friday. Sometimes it’s a Monday. Old saying.
Old man river
“It is no easy matter to go to heaven by way of New Orleans.” Reverend J Chandler Gregg.
Sat out on our balcony basking in the afternoon sun. Had to put my sun hat on. Washington Square is a hive of gardening activity. Looks like they are digging deep holes to plant new trees. Reminds me of that movie where everyone is chasing after buried treasure somewhere. Dig deeper, dig deeper 🙂
I’m glad we booked an airbnb. Plenty of space for to chillax after a long day’s touristing. The beauty of sitting out here is that people walking by below don’t notice you.
Came across fire station number 9 on our travels this morning. Walking around to the front there was actually a fire engine with number 9 written on it just poking out the door. Later we saw number 19 and then station number 19. I wonder how many they have in total in NOLA. Could google it I suppose.
Blue light rushes by at the end of the street. Ambulance. Couldn’t quite see it all. Young woman walks by with dog. Both had light brown hair.
The French Quarter was v interesting. We were there quite early, just as people were setting up the market. We booked a swamp tour for saturday and a bus tour for sunday. Already sorted the steamboat for tomorrow. Yawl.
I sense there’s no point in going out too early tonight. Some of the bars were quite quiet because we were twirly.
Looks like the hole diggers have packed up for the day. They’ve left tape around the holes. A boy kicks a football. A woman is sat on the bench previously occupied by the homeless guy. I assume he was homeless. He might have gone home I suppose.
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Interesting. Different bartender at the Apple Barrel tonight. Wouldn’t hand over the beer until I’d given him the cash. Interesting. Doesn’t inspire confidence as to the viability of the business. Was only a small bar.
Well, a successful first day in NOLA, considering we were jet lagged. The taxi from the airport dropped us off at around twelve thirty pm and access to 801 Frenchmen was v straightforward. Worra great flat. Quite luxurious.
After a walk to Roberts’ Grocery store for some supplies we spent the afternoon chillin’ out listening to music and reading. Finished me book. Was v easy to pair the phone with the retro record deck.
Roberts’ is a handy gaff a few mins walk. Searching for beer I remarked that the stocks were remarkably low considering the size of the shop. Then we found the beer fridge. This was a room sized fridge stacked high with beer. Not seen that before but not surprising coming from a small town in the boonies as I do.
Found myself needing to switch to American English when asking an assistant where they kept the butter. She was confused and about to escalate the question to a supervisor when I realised the issue and changed my request from butter to budder. Aaaah!
At fiveish we broke open the Lagunitas and had some (disappointing) chips with a stunning local salsa. Our plan was a pub crawl on Frenchmen. In the end we only made it to three spots including Apple Bar, The Spotted Cat and 30/90. Fantastic music in three very different bars.
Checked out Willie’s Chicken Shack on the short walk back to number 801. Chicken tenders were good, fries not as hot as they could be and, surprisingly, not that many of them. Willie’s was a super cool gaff but we were the only ones in. Twirly probs.
Better sleep last night than when we arrived in Atlanta on Tuesday. Today we will be heading out to explore NOLA after breakfasting on bagels, bacon, eggs and avocado washed down with plenty of steaming hot cawfee, OK and meealk (2%).
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Homeless man returns to his bench when park opens
Tai chi group
Toasted bagels, avocado, fried egg and bacon with cawfee, oj and milk was good
We are going to have a problem with New Orleans. There appear to be too many great bars to check out. We are mixing it up a little. Sunday night at 5pm is American Sports Saloon for the Chiefs game. If we have the stamina we could move on to a jazzy joint afterwards.
There is a cult mardi gras parade on Saturday night
We are a short walk from Cafe Negril, Favela Chic, Vaso, Apple Barrel, Blue Nile, Snug Harbor, the Spotted Cat, and the Maison, all on Frenchmen. That’s before we even make it as far as the French Quarter and Bourbon Street, the latter which we will really only take a look at and maybe try out a couple of bars when passing through.
Below the apartment is an artisanal bakery, Ayu Bakehouse. Bought a couple of sandwiches for lunch at $33 inc tip. Very artisanal for that price! Strolled round to Roberts’ Market on St Claude Avenue and picked up some groceries. Just a few essentials such as bacon, butter, chips & salsa and a Lagunitas variety pack. We can get the bread from Ayu’s.
We also need to drop in at Preservation Hall just so Joe can say he has been there and maybs take in a riverboat trip. Other than that we are here to chill out. A guided tour of the French Quarter has been identified.
Frank Sinatra is crooning relaxing tunes through the speakers of the Victrola record player on the table in the living room. There is a collection of jazz records featuring Louis Armstrong.
Need to drop in for cocktails at the Roosevelt. I did initially book a room there for this trip but opted instead for this apartment which is the dogs.
I woke up in the night and thought of those words. Got up and wrote em in my notebook. They came with a tune but that was a little bit too ‘country’ and probs already sounded like most other country songs so not original enough. Will think of something.
On the 07.30. Someone sat in my seat. Not a biggie although there was only one other person in the carriage so why she chose mine is a mystery.
Well actually she had booked the seat next to me. Why on earth would you choose a seat next to someone when there are loads of others unreserved? When I booked it there was no one else on the table.
It gets worse. She is very talkative. It’s her birthday on Thursday. She is off to London for one night today and then Birmingham for three nights on Friday. She works for the NHS, is a Christian and is using up her holiday at a time of year when nobody else wants to take holiday. Always takes Easter weekend off though, natch.
There you go. And the train hasn’t even left the station.
The Grimsby train has just pulled in on the opposite platform.
Last train to Grimsby. Has a finality to it. In reality it is probably the first. New destination, new beginnings.
Outside, a medium frost carpets the ground. Dappled red clouds frame a fading pallet sky with delicate outlines of trees softening the motionless edge of frozen Lincolnshire fields. Nothing moves. A large stack of straw bales waits patiently.
Quite a few people have got on at Newark. I’ve moved my bag to the rack above, largely to make it obvious that her large bag and voluminous coat on the seat next to her (the one she booked) is a bit anti-social. This does come with risks. Someone might come and sit next to me. I’ve left the aisle seat free as my originally booked seat, the one she is occupying, was the one opposite and I didn’t fancy having to avoid playing footsie.
I expect she is a bit disappointed I am not being chatty. Twirly man, twirly. As it is I never have a good night’s sleep before catching the 07.30. Indeed the only time I really get that train nowadays is if I’m off to LHR which is the case this morning.
Frost does bestow the landscape with an ethereal beauty.
This trip is the next chapter in the dad and lad series of jaunts whereby I take an offspring off on a jaunt with daddy. It isn’t always dad and lad. The next one will be dad and daughter but we are already planning into 2024 for that.
We are currently hurtling towards Grantham. Whilst somewhat melodramatic the use of the word ‘hurtling’ is, I feel, quite appropriate. A powerful momentum. I quite like the notion of not stopping at Grantham even though it is scheduled. The look on the faces of passengers waiting on the platform would be quite amusing. Obvs this is a very anti-social thought and not one that is likely to be put into practice but bemusing nonetheless.
Amusing little footnote to that last paragraph. We didn’t stop at Grantham. It wasn’t scheduled anyway 🙂
I don’t mind chatting with other people on the train. Often do. I’m a chatty kind of guy. There is such a thing as overly chatty at seven thirty in the morning though.
We are pulling into Peterborough. Even a pristine frost can’t make Peterborough look nice.
Peterborough has a new university, opened in 2022 according to the sign.
Swords and ploughshares. Just passed a couple of fields containing ridges created by the mediaeval technique of ploughing. Looked it up. Made me think of swords and ploughshares. Violent death or the slow grinding away of body and spirit.
Moments in time. Moments of madness. Intimacy. Imagine if time stopped, momentarily. Freeze frame.
The clear skies of Stevenage.
The wine society, since 1874.
The Redeemed Christian Church of God United Kingdom
Great night out at the Funky Biscuit last night. Marcia Ball gig. Marcia is 73 years old. The average age of her audience also looked about 73. In consequence they were a fairly inanimate bunch although there was plenty of clapping after each song.
The FB was an hour’s Uber away. Seems a normal kind of journey in the USA where distances are so large and people think nothing of hopping on a plane for 5 hours. In Lincoln I rarely make it as far as Nottingham because it’s an hour’s journey.
Quite fancy strolling out somewhere for brunch. Question is where. Ordinarily I have breakfast in the hotel but the Hilton deal these days in the USA is not as good as it used to be. Nowadays you get a “food and beverage allowance” of $15 a day per room. Doesn’t go far when you consider yesterday’s breakfast for two was knocking on $80 inc tip and it isn’t as if we went over the top. An expensive place to visit is the US.
As a result it doesn’t really matter where you eat, assuming time is on your side. The question then is where? I am travelling with our US Sales Director Charles but there is no sign of him yet this morning! Might just head down as I’m now quite hungry. Didn’t have dinner last night!
Ciao.
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Now chillin poolside. Only three others here. Could be something to do with the unusually cold weather I suppose although the skies are clear blue. An azure sea is visible in the gap between the Ritz Plaza and the Delano hotels. Ocean really not sea.
It’s one of those days for total relaxation. Would help to be a few degrees warmer but it doesn’t really matter. The pool itself is warm albeit quite shallow. It’s an infiniti pool and as such designed for wallowing as opposed to exercise.
I find that life continues to be surreal. Yesterday we had lunch in a supercool joint called Ship Wreck down a Key Largo side street. Couldn’t really call it a street. It was a road that took you to one of many inlets in the area. We actually looked for downtown Key Largo only to find there wasn’t one. Bit disappointing. Gave up after a while, when every road we turned down was a dead end. Got a couple of t shirts.
The pool is attracting some rather large people. Four beer toting bearded ‘good old boys’ wandered in, sat awhile and wandered out again. One of them had a baseball cap with a gun emblazoned on the front.
Aircraft pass by overhead. No sign of British Airways as yet but it is twirly man. A midday arrival here would mean a 7am takeoff from London. Our return flight is not until 21.30 on Wednesday. Figured we would get some dinner and a few sherberts before flying out and that time departure means I will hopefully get a decent kip on the plane.
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Ordered chips at a bar. Waitress asked if I meant fries.
The title of this post is a collection of letters in lower case typed randomly without looking. Not sure what the chances are of replicating that ‘word’ would be via the same method but that is of no significance whatsoever. Safe to say this word will not make the OED.
It is wonderful how words, originally just means of communication, are a form of art. One of my fave opening lines in a book is
“Snowflakes the size of old pennies were falling in the top left hand corner of Wales.”
That is a fabulous opening line. Beautiful. You can just picture the scene. It’s probably one of the few opening lines to a book that I can remember, it created that much of an impression on me. The other one is
“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.”
That is a famous one. It has its own different beauty to the first. They both describe a scene in completely different ways. That’s art for you.
I have some favourite poems but no favourite pictures. Maybe it’s just me. Years ago when my dad retired they went on holiday for three months and he asked me if I could recommend some reading material. I struggled. Basically my own judgement and reputation was on the line. If dad didn’t think much of the book it would reflect on me. Or that was my thinking at the time.
I only managed to find 5 books out of the hundreds I had on the shelf (this was maybe thirty years ago – I have a lot more now) that I felt comfortable with recommending. Can’t remember what they all are now though I could probably put my mind to it.
It probably wouldn’t have mattered to dad who had different reading tastes to me anyway. Also in those days my books would have been mainly fiction. Nowadays it is rare for me to buy fiction; probably just don’t do it at all. My reading is growing increasingly niche. Each to their own 🙂
The inside of the shed is covered with pictures. Posters, signs, photos, maps and the occasional drawing and print, notably a limited edition print of the Black Boy Inn in Caernarfon which is a particularly favourite haunt of ours. Lots of maps. How else would I find my way around?
Now watching snooker in the shed. V colourful game is snooker. The masters is on. I quite like watching snooker although I’m totally rubbish at it meself. I suspect it is as much to do with the fact that I wear specs than a lack of ability. Difficult to focus when looking over my specs down a cue.
Anyway I digress. Not sure from what, but digress I do. Sounds like the title of someone’s autobiography. ‘Digress I do’. Doubt anyone would want to read it. Who would want to read a book that kept jumping about from subject to subject.
Could call it ‘aodksjhfodjfhoa, the art of digression’. An alternative might be ‘aodksjhfodjfhoa, the art of just about anything you like’ on the basis that it isn’t really a word. Because it doesn’t really mean anything it could be applied to many situations. However it does have some artistic merit. Not much but some.
aodksjhfodjfhoa isn’t in the same league as philistate which is of course a real word. However I don’t like to chuck words away so I will not hasten to discard aodksjhfodjfhoa. I will leave it here as a record of a moment in time. I could even put it in my google docs dictionary but I won’t. I have as little faith in it as you. Totes waste of time. At least I got a post out of it.
Some people might wonder why I write this drivel. Well it isn’t drivel in my book. You know the one: ‘aodksjhfodjfhoa, the art of.’ Coming to a book shop near you. In due course.
Philistate is a new word I invented whilst lying in bed this morning. I have as yet no idea what it means or whether it is a noun or a verb but I’ve googled it and the word did not previously exist.
It’s quite pleasing to have come up with a new word like this. There are very few avenues of adventure and discovery left to us so to find something new is v exciting. America and Australia et al have long since been found and someone, Amundsen, has already been first to the South Pole.
The few places left are in our imagination. Let your mind run riot, out of control even, and see what it comes up with.
My body comes gradually to its senses. It lies there for a while before realising it has changed state. An arm reaches out and brings life to the radio.
There is something all powerful about bringing life to a radio
Some time later the radio drives me out of bed. Dressing gowned stumble downstairs and stick the coffee.
I wander into the music room
Sitting at the piano my hands rest on the keys. A moment of inspiration awaits. Gradually notes appear and the piano picks the music.
Time dances
The day fades into reverie. Coffee miraculously changes to wine and into brandy. An empty plate lies on top of the piano, evidence of the day.
It is my custom and practice to spend train journeys putting words to a page. Today I have alternatives should my creative muse run dry or the lead in my pencil wear out. Before leaving the house I downloaded the first series of the Young Ones on BBC iPlayer. Not watched it since I was of that age, forty years ago, but I remember it as a classic comedy. Let’s hope that it is a timeless classic. I want the memory to remain fond.
This morning as we leave Lincoln there is a pale red glow in the sky and frost on the fields. The first of the season.
It being early I am hungry, a state exacerbated by the smell of bacon wafting from the train galley. Tis only a matter of time.
There are three of us in the carriage. Two bacon rolls and a porridge. Later, the porridge has still not arrived despite the fact that the bacon rolls have already been devoured. Right decision.
Not much moves in the fields around Newark. One solitary blackbird. The train slows as it approaches Northgate station, waiting for a favourable signal.
‘Welcome aboard this LNER Azuma bound for London Kings Cross.’ Two chatty people get on, disturbing the peace. I exhibited an early morning induced mental dullness when leaving Lincoln. A trance like state I was happy to embrace but which has now disappeared. Fortunately having settled into their seats, one behind the other, the noise has abated and they are now buried in their own distractions.
We leave Newark sliding behind, an almost empty station car park fading to the rear of the train. Large pale green fields are surrounded by water filled drainage ditches. Agricultural machinery stands. Pylons tower. Bungalows squat.
There is beauty in nature irrespective of season. In some respects there is more colour in autumn and winter than in spring and summer. Different hues. It is true that spring is more uplifting. A natural requirement of the body after winterlight.
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Just made the Eurostar and now in France. Accepted a glass of white wine with lunch at 10.45 natch. Will probs regret it. Nivver mind. Life is short. Drink wine at 10.45am. Was 11.45 really. Just depends on your zonal perspective.
The temps est miserable. I’m glad I stuck a fleece on as a last minute thought before leaving maison Davies.
Mentally sluggish again after that glass of wine. I knew it would happen innit 🙂 It’s all about attitude.
Bloke sat in front of me is a musician. There seems to be a band all on the train but mostly sitting separately. Two of them were in our seats when we got on the train and had to move. Our guy has a Pret a Manger bag containing some sort of cream cheese sandwich and something else i can’t quite see. Maybe he doesn’t like French food. Snails and frogs legs in garlic and all that sort of foreign muck. Probs doesn’t want to go down with the Delhi belly before the gig ce soir. Makes a lorra sense to me although we are not in India.
Meanhwile the train races past cars on the adjacent road kicking sand up into their windscreens as we go by.
England about to start playing football and Anne has complained that her connection to the internet has vanished. I said she should have downloaded the game onto her phone before we set off :)) Not interested myself. Rewind got time zone wrong.
The pylons are different in France. As is the electricite. It is unlikely that the difference in electricite has influenced the design of the pylons, n’est pas? What would Volt aire have said. Geddit?
Our restaurant tonight, Procope, is where Voltaire used to hang out, apaz. Published his pamphlets on the top floor. As good a place as any je guess. I have pre-ordered smoked Scottish saumon, fillet of boeuf and profiteroles. Makes a lorrasense to me. Nice drop of wine to go with it. Presumably the boef is French. Somewhere like Limoges or simlar. Hopefully they won’t overcook the boef thinking that because I live in England I don’t like it rare! Huh (contemptuous shrug and nostril twitch).
25 mins to our destination. I half caught an announcement but I happen to have Edith Piaf crooning in my phones at the same time so didn’t really listen or hear properly. Hopefully there will be a fast track for EU passport holders 🙂 Doubt it.
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Blurry start to the day after yesterday’s long lunch that lasted until 10pm. Slow boat to Lincoln leaves Gare Du Nord at 10.13am. Makes no Seines that sentence. It is all a state of mind. Reality is racing.
There’s an Irish bar next to the Moulin Rouge. O’Sullivans by the Mill. They will be open now. Last night a quickly faded memory.
The food at Au Boin Coin was a lukewarm disappointment. The wine was fine. All things come to pass. We move on. I’m glad I have memories of good times there.
We ended up at a local bar near the hotel. The French were playing the Aussies at Association Football. The home supporters were very animated. Emotional you know, the French.
It is Thanksgiving in the USA tomorrow. I feel as if I can identify with this having recently stayed opposite the beach in Cape Cod where the Mayflower pilgrims first landed and then subsequently visiting Plymouth across the water.
The age of Steven has been left inconspicuously behind us. The borough of Pete lies ahead.
Down the tracks. Wrong side of the tracks. Track twenty nine.
Your left hand doesn’t look right.
Take it easy. Easy on Wednesday afternoon. As the song goes.
Running 15 minutes late into Nuarque due to a near miss at Biggleswade level crossing. The wade of Biggles. Big Les.
Trefbash is two weeks tomorrow. Make sure you bring your dancing shoes.
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Enjoyed hiding under the cosiness of the duvet this morning. Made me think of others less fortunate.
Just two weeks to go until trefbash and registrations have been flooding in. If you plan to come and haven’t yet signed up I wouldn’t leave it too late if I were you.
Orf to the smoke again this afternoon. One of the kids is having a party tomorrow night but of course there is a train strike so we are going down today. Not back until Monday as the trains are pretty non existent at the best of times at weekends at this time of year due to engineering works. At this rate we would be better off buying a flat in London.
I do like little trips to London. The plan this weekend is to use my new Tate membership to visit Tate Britain on Saturday and Tate Modern on Sunday. If anyone wants to tag along I can take guests. Maybs a spot of luncheon. Lemme know.
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Not sure whether any of you knew this but in Middlesborough there is a proud supplier of tuna subs to the London and North Eastern Railway company.
I think everyone should consider only watching weather on the TV. Ok it isn’t always good news but it’s quite pleasant compared with a lot of the crap that gets shoved our way. A bit of rain here and there. Wind etc. It is just as likely to tell you that it will be a nice sunny day, perfect for taking the dog for a walk. Or strolling to the shops.
Mind you shopping doesn’t really do it for me. At least not down yer average chain dominated high street.
The train attendant/food and drink dispensing person didn’t get her stuff together and missed getting off at Grantham. Dashed back as she forgot her bag and the train doors closed and we moved out of the station. Oops. Felt a bit sorry for her tbh.
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Sunday was a typically wet and miserable late autumn day in London. John and I were walking between Borough Market and the Tate Modern when I saw a homeless person sitting on the floor with his hand out begging. A woman walked up to him and gave him a five pound note. As she walked away the homeless man put his head in his hands and sobbed. It was heart wrenching.