May 2003 Archives
Was this evening, starting off at Mar e Terra , with our lovely flamencoing host, Raphael, and moving on (although not for me) for cheesy dancing at the Clapham Grand.
... is what the Dr tells me has laid me low since Bank Holiday Monday, and kept me in bed on Wednesday and Thursday - the warmest, sunniest days of the year to date.
Still, it was a Godsend to learn that my headaches were being exacerbated by blocked sinuses and other ear/nose/throat passageways, and readily rectified by some decongestant. Within an hour of getting back from the surgery, I was on the mend, and today I've been back at work and am off to Em Coombes' hen night - kicking off at Mar-i-Terra. Got to keep it small scale seeing as Hazel and I are driving up to Helen and Charlie's tomorrow (MG meet Open Road - vrooom!!!) to be around to help preparations for Sunday BBQ (I just hope that this weather holds), and I've got to get up/back to/from TJBR's to return the car keys and car stereo...
Hair cut first though.... not a major event for many people I know, but a relative rarity for me. Mainly because I don't like paying London styling prices just for a trim,and also because I've still not found a hair dresser I really like. THis evening, I am sampling Hair Yamamoto on Eldon Street.
I've had it this week, and it's horrible.
First signs were spending most of Bank Holiday Monday asleep on Phil's sofa, and my brain refusing to work all day on Tuesday. As the day went on, the familiar signals gathered in strength - aching joints, sore throat, fuzzy head. This is what stopped me from going to Nicola and Randal's wedding, and which struck again when I was at VerticalNet.
Woke up on Wednesday after lots of sleep, water and lemsips, but with horribly swollen throat with white patches over them, like blisters. However, I decided I felt well enough to head into work, particularly as I'd not had the night sweats I'd expected. More fool me - I almost fainted on the train. I've not experienced an almost-faint before - the world went fuzzy around me and my sphere of control and awareness seemed to shrink ever smaller. I only just realised in time that we'd stopped at Vauxhall, where I staggered off the train and onto the platform and - luckily - straight onto a train going back to CJ.
Spent the rest of the day and Thursday sleeping and, towards the end, lying on the sofa, resenting the sunshine outside and snoozing through programmes on UK History.
I managed to get a Doctor's appointment for late on Thursday afternoon, and he immediately diagnosed my as having Viral flu. I think he thought I might have SARS. Nope. But I did think it might be malaria, given that I've only been afflicted with it since returning from travelling.
Top tip was that the headahces which were proving resitant to paracetemol were due to sectrions in my ear/nose/throat passageways, and that a decongestant might help. He was right!
I'm supposed to be taking it easy for the next few days as it takes a week to 10 days to fully recover. But it's Em Coombes's hen night tonight, and Helen and Charlie's St Andrews BBQ over the weekend....
I thoroughly enjoyed it. I still can't get my head around what's happening when they move between the underground city, the not-really-space-ships-but-that's-what-they-look-like-so-that-confuses-me-even-more ships and the world of the Matrix, but that doesn't spoil my enjoyment of a no-holds-barred action thriller. OK, so there were a few more squirmy bits than before as they develop the lurve story between Neo and Trinity, and the accompanying club scene in Zion was dire, but the fight scenes are fun, the baddies better than ever and - the clincher - everyone came out restaining themselves from karate chopping their way through Leicester Square.
I went to the Julia Margaret Cameron exhibition in the NPG today. It was one of the rare occasions when I'd actually shelled out for an entrance fee. In this case I came out of the NPG rather resentful of the fact that I'd parted with my £6.
It wasn't that the show wasn't well constructed and presented - the NPG is great at all of that kind of thing, and Julia Margaret Cameron, 19th Century Photographer of Genius was no exception - but that I was disappointed by the photographs and the photographer. The easy line would be to say that I felt that I'd been misled by the posters, but that's no justification - how hard is it to go to the NPG website and to find out a bit more about JMC, her life and work? But I'd not done that, and that's what made me feel miffed, with myself.
So what was it about the exhibition that I didn't like? I'd hoped for photos showing a spectrum of 19th century people and places, letting me have a glimpse into the real world as existed 150 years ago. Instead, what I got were twee staged compositions featuring family and friends posing in fancy dress tableaux (heh - the website blurb even says that now I look!) from classical tales and mythology, and the rather patronising photographs and comments taken in the later years of her life at the family tea plantations in Sri Lanka.
I know that I shouldn't condemn Cameron for her attitudes, which are bound to be shaped and reflect attitudes of her era and her class, but they did serve to accentuate my disappointment that the exhibition wasn't about what I'd thought it was going to be.
That'll learn me (as my nan used to say).
For I had a selection of scoops from the salad bar, north african themed as today is another S&S restaurant themed days. ver ver garlicky, but for some reason, my mouth feels all dusty right now, and it was a working lunch, as I've spent all day with Gila and Matt bashing through calculations to identify savings if we change our printing strategy so that we make more use of the photocopiers, or, as they are more properly billed by the manufacturers, "multifunctional devices".
urgh. brain's in melt-down.
I'm wondering what the significance might be of listening to Westlife on the headphones at work... cheesy cheery up pop ballads? Maybe it's a feel-good hit to top up last night's generated by going to see X-Men 2 at Clapham Picture House with Hazel. Really enjoyed it, and tonight it's The Matrix on channel 5, after drinks with Lindsey, and maybe Fran, at the Oxo Tower. Ah, the London life....
When I had my first flat furniture review, I wanted to get rid of a chest of drawers, some parker knoll chairs and a bedstead, all inherited from 78 Links Drive days. After much ringing around of charity shops I chanced upon the Oasis shop in Battersea, who will collect furniture from you and sell it to raise money for the charity. They couldn't take the chairs because they were up holstered and pre-dated the era of flame reisitant certification, and they didn't take beds, so they both ended up being collected by the council (although I think someone picked up the bedframe beforehand.... ), but the chest of drawers were warmly welcomed and collected as arranged.
Anyway, with a new desk and shelves due for delivery on 27 May, I'm going to need to recycle my current desk, and a few other items too. And Oasis look like they're going to come up trumps again - I'll be ringing them on 020 7924 7514 to arrange collection by their driver when he's back from holidays on 9th June.
Hazel having received her new phone in the post yesterday, I called in to Moorgate Carphone Warehouse today to look at free upgrades for my nokia seeing as I've had it for over a year .... looks like I'm going to have to get to grips with the old red/green phone conundrum. urgh. Didn't get one, didn't like the feeling that I was being hustled by the salesman. But it looks like my preferred interface model is being phased out. :(
I'm saving CDs to my C drive, using RealPlayer's RealOne Player (the free, basic, version). One of the CDs is the Manic Street Preachers Gold Against The Soul, and in looking for the release date, I spotted this poem on the back inlay sleeve....
Song Of Those Who Died In Vain
Poem by Primo Levi (1919 - 1987)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Sit down and bargain
All you like grizzled old foxes
We'll wall you up in a splendid palace
With food, wine, good beds and a good fire
Provided that you discuss, negotiate
For our and your children's lives
May all the wisdom of the universe
Converge to bless your minds
And guide you in the maze
But outside in the cold we will be waiting for you
The army of those who died in vain
We of the Marne, of Montecassino
Treblinka, Dresden and Hiroshima
And with us will be
The leprous and the people with trachoma
The disappeared ones of Buenos Aires
Dead Cambodians and dying Ethiopians
The Prague negotiatiors
The bled dry of Calcutta
The innocents slaughtered in Bologna
Heaven help you if you come out disagreeing
You'll be clutched tight in our embrace
We are invincible because we are the conquered
Invulnerable because already dead
We laugh at your missiles
Sit down and bargain
Until your tongues are dry
If the havoc and the shame continue
We'll drown you in our putrefaction
Primo Levi
14th January 1985
Poem published by Faber & Faber Ltd.
Simple - you aren't focussing on the price, because to understand the true price in your own familiar currency you have to convert it; and for most people that conversion has to be done in their head; and for most people, that'll be the first mental arithmetic they'll have done since primary school. Salaries may not be much, but they're a darn sight more than pocket money.
(and "for most people", read "me")
I'm in Paris, logging on at the cyber cafe here at the OpenText LiveLink Up Paris 2003. It's an interesting conference, but plagued by the fact that the french public sector workers - inc metro drivers - went on strike on Tuesday, and decided, late on Tuesday night, to extend the action through to Wednesday.
Things are still buggered today. Luckily Lucy's flat is a walkable distance from La Defense, and RATP are providing hour hourly updates on their website, which they've limited to a single super-quick loading home page with that info. V Sensible, v commuter-user-focused. Unfortunately, as 12h30, things look like this....
So whilst Tom and Jo were relaxing in Brighton, I was chaperoning Barney (top marks for behaviour, but needs to work on his nose-blowing technique) to/from dad and jean's, and was reminded again of how little I know about trains and how fast they go.
So, I'm devoting a few mins this morning to research, and have found these *gems*
- Microsoft Train Simulator (and as it's available on amazon, I'm getting that for his birthday unless bro or jo forbid me)
- Lots more train simulators
- Train Travel News & Passenger Rail Travel Guides for Business Travel by Train & Leisure Rail Travel & Tours
- Even (gulp) trainspotting
but nowhere can I find a simple list of top train speeds for the various locomotives which operate on the UK network, and more widely....
Arrived in Hereford safe and sound on Friday evening, and the train trip was a breeze (phew). Jo'd bought Barney a treat for the train which turned out to be a 10 colour biro - one of those where you click between colours/nibs. v impressed (both of us).
I do have a cold though - which explains the sleepiness, and the "hair in my throat" feeling. Barney and I have blowing noses in unison.
We spent the morning in Hereford - much of it in the model shop, and dad and Barney put the guards van and truck into service, along with the two stations dad's been busy building.
And I found one of those magic red wine warmer jacket things that Ruth and Pete had, which I bought for Dad and Jean (v impressed, both).
Dad barbequed in between showers and we watched the small birds munch their way through a whole feeders-worth of sunflower seeds, leaving the shells piling up by the fence.
After Barney'd drifted off to sleep to the sound of story telling, I showed dad how to use Fotopic for photos.loosemore.com, including today's. He's very impressed, but claims it's beyond his ken.... we'll see.
When deciding whether or not to buy my eMac yesterday, I asked whether or not any new Macs were in the offing.... to which the MicroAnvika salesgirl replied that they get next-to-no forewarning of any new releases but that she hadn't heard anything about the eMac being affected by any model/package upgrades.
And then today, Phil sends me this MacCentral article.
Boy, am I pissed off with that.
:(
I bought one today!
Now Phil and Tom have no excuses for not coming to my aid!!
Actually, Phil was super-lovely and helped me set it all up and explained the MAc Model. I think I'll take some time to get as Mac literate as I am with the PC. That said, I really really like i-Tunes!!! Can't wait to start organising and categorising all my music :) I knew I should have stuck to the librarian urge....
Another long day, but not so much wandering as yesterday. We headed out bright and early in the direction of Porte de Clignancourt, which involved a first go on the driverless Meteor line. Ace - very Maglev-like. We were in search of the marche aux puces at PdeC, but what we found didn't really meet expectatiosn - it was a mixture of modern market (clothes/accessories/electrical goods) and antiquey covered markets selling large pieces of furniture and reclaimed ironwork.... neither of which really fall into the flea category in my book.
So seeing as it was very sunny and very hot, we decided to abandon all attempts at touristing, opting for Plan B, lazing in Parc de Sceaux. It was a bit of a palava to get there, mainly due to lackof open ticket booths in Chatelet, and my not being 100% sure which RER B station we needed... but we got there in the end, complete with pique nique goods, and spent the entire afternoon soaking up the sun, reading and snoozing.
Walked back to the hotel by way of l'Arganier, a cous-cous restaurant in the Marais, and slept well until early rise and shine required to commute back to Gare du Nord inorder to catch the 08.45 back to Londres.
Out and about a pied. We started off ascending to the Promenade Plantee, beautifully green and above the hustle and bustle of the busy weekend streets of the 12eme. The path followed the old raised railway line, before descending and petering out in the streets around the disused Gare de Reuilly.
We navigated ourselves towards Bercy and the Seine, with the centreville to our right, cement towers and factories to our right, and a restored fireship on the water down below. We crossed to the Tres Grand Bibliotheque with its amazing sunken pine forest and four sky scraping towers, and an outdoors sculpture exhibition. Onwards, past the Gare d'Austerlitz, around the Jardin des Plantes (in search of a loo, in vain) ending up at one of my favourite Paris sites/sights - l'Institut du Monde Arabe, with its fantastic diaphragmes and roof top terrace views.
Further along the rive-gauche, we tracked down the Shakespeare and Co, one of the english bookshops, and after a mooch around there (Phil) and a sit in the sun (me), we headed onwards through the latin quarter to the other english language bookshop, (the San Fransisco bookshop I thnk it was called) around rue Danton which offered peace and tranquility after the hustle and bustle of Blvd Saint-Michel.
Sunshine and hunger pangs dictated that we resume our stroll with the intention of locating a pique nique prior to arriving at the Jardin de Luxembourg.... which we managed, albeit after detouring around in search of sustenance and to use the 40cent self-cleaning-loos.
Camembert and tomato sandwiches, plus half a flan each pepped us up (as did the jolie fleur from Phil - i was in tearful mood that day, goodness only know why) and provided the energy and incentive to fend off the pigeons and to induldge in some people-(and dust-bathing sparrow-) watching before upping sticks and setting off again.
Plan A, to catch a bus back to base, was foiled by the one way system, and plan B, to find a film in V.O. somewhere in town, was foiled by lack of anything on which we felt the urge to see which hadn't already started. And that was having bought and perused PariScope (I'd forgotten it existed) sitting on a wall in the square outside the Hotel de Ville.
So we ended up sauntering back via Place des Vosges and Bastille, winding up at Hotle Trianon footsore and thirsty, and a touch pink due to the sunny day.
Forty winks later we ventured out in search of a meal, opting for restaurant Byzance, another boulevard diderot restaurant, offering Gastronomie de Grece et de Turquie. We had to return to the hotel via the scenic route to ease our overstuffed stomachs having induldged in the 19euro prix fixe menu. oof!
Last minute booking with - wait for it - LastMinute.com saw Phil and I heading for the Eurostar bright and early, rolling into Paris at lunchtime. The hotel, near to Gare de Lyon, could have only just scraped its 3*s, and the double bed proved to be 2 singles rolled next to one another. but fatal flaws, aside from our both being knackered.
Headed out to explore, taking the metro up to Charles de Gaulle-Etoile, and strolling around the 16eme, down to Palais de Tokyo where we went into the exhibition space. All a bit to heavy on the gritty realism, but the videos of Kyupi Kyupi and the morphing packaging containers were highlights. As were the M/F identifiers on the loo doors....
caught in a downpour at Trocadero overlooking the Eiffel Tower and the Champ de Mars, we headed for the sun, back towards avenue kleber, and strolled wearily along the right bank of the seine to S&S Paris, where I'd arranged to meet up Lucy Stewart for a drink. Very impressive offices, as is only to be expected in the 8eme, but most folks had headed home by the time we pitched up at 6.30.
I don't think we were very vibrant company, and when we got back to the hotel c.8pm we both crashed out sleeping right through to 11pm. Thank heavens for France's relaxed approach to late night dining - we dined in a local brasserie, still going strong when we left at midnight. Not too busy, or smoky (unusual for France), just right.