Fantastic day on arrival - sun-tan lotion weather! Dumped my stuff at the hostel then wandered down to the lake front - ended up giving directions to a guy along the way, in French no less! God bless those rusty high-school language skillz. Took a late night stoll through the Old Town ... very quiet. I think I had impressions of Geneva being bigger than it actually is (which is not that big at all really). Rain delayed play on the second day, but it cleared up enough for me to hike up the hill to the Red Cross Museum - you come away with an equal sense of how good humanity can be and what a bunch of heartless wankers we are at times too. More rain ensued, but it came right the following day: blue skies and sunshine again and a trip up Mont Salè (1100m) on the cable-car for the best view in town. They finally turned the Jet d'Eau on today too - an impressive 140m of gushing water at the base of the lake ... enough to make anyone desperate for le WC!
‹ 28.4.02 / 0 comment(s) ›
Amsterdam
Following Caroline's excellent directions, I made it into Central Amsterdam with no problems at all. A nice big sofa and red wine awaited which was fantastic - she really is the hostess with the mostest! Played tourist in fine style over the next few days: Anne Frank's House was in equal parts touching and saddening and the Van Gogh/Gaugin exhibition was quite absorbing (tracing their collaboration in Arles, which culminated in a massive row (a possible unwelcome advance on Van Gogh's part? It was certainly hinted at) and the infamous ear-slicing incident. Caroline and I did a bit of an Amsterdam-by-night walk too: dusky drinks on Nieuwmarkt, some great satay (incl. goat!), a wander through the red-light district ("Help! I'm stuck in this store-front window and can't get out!") and a drop of the Irish black stuff at Mulligan's before wandering back to the digs. A boat cruise down the canals was accomplished the next day (accompanied by a loud bunch of middle-aged touristy-types), along with a huge sushi feed and the by now requisite number of Buffy episodes (they can sing! Who knew?) :o) The next day's very early start didn't gel too well with this renowned lollygagger but cuckoo clocks, fondue and chocolate wait for no man.
‹ 28.4.02
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Glasgow
The train trip from Edinburgh was quick and painless ... stumbled out of the station and called Al who directed me to the nearest bar, just down the street. Now that's the Al I remember! We sunk a couple of pints there, then John joined us and we all piled back to their massive Victorian flat. Did the quick change thing, then we went for more boozing, followed by the weirdest curry house dining experience ever - an old movie theatre, shelled and renovated, with a French theme going on and Elvis (circa Vegas years) crooning away on the big screen. Confused? You will be! Did a town-and-around the next day and visited The Lighthouse, a big design centre, which had a good collection of stuff on Charles Rennie Mackintosh. The guy certainly left his mark on the city, art nouveau stylee. John played La Oliver that evening and whipped up a tasty round of sea bass and dauphinoise spuds, and the next day was brunch in town followed by good-byes to Scotland, and ergo, the UK (cue swelling strings, teary eyes and waving of white hankies).
‹ 28.4.02
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Edinburgh
The flight north was good, if slightly delayed. I believe our flight featured the first graduate of the "International School of Comedy Eastern European Air Stewardess Training". Apparently, your lifejacket's light and whistle are "good for attracting the attention of passing sailors", the oxygen mask is "the only free thing you'll get on this flight" and if we didn't enjoy our flight, we were told that it "would be our little secret". easyJet - putting the levity back into air travel! (haw, haw). Edinburgh itself is wonderful - so much stone and a shit load of hills which is a pleasant change from London's generally flat landscape. I went for a wander around the Castle yesterday, then down the Royal Mile and back along Princes Street ... all good fun. T'was very misty and atmospheric yesterday but today is gorgeous and, of course, I'm in a web café, typing mail and completing blog entries. And here I was thinking Murphy's Law was an Irish invention. Onwards to Glasgow later this afternoon for a weekend drinking binge with ex-Igniters Al and John - liver bedamned I say!
‹ 20.4.02
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London
Well, where do I start? And where would I end? I've been good to the city and fortunately, it's been generally good to me. I've managed to stand on my own two feet in one of the world's greatest metropolises, I've met some wonderful wonderful people who will be friends for the rest of my life, I held down an enjoyable job for the better part of two years, I jetted about Europe every now and then, I wrangled the Underground under control and I only lost my wallet once (it was stolen another time - ah well). So, you could say I've been blessed. I'm going to miss everyone I'm leaving behind so much, but fresh challenges await on the opposite end of the Earth and they of course know they're always welcome in New Zealand. Farewell fancy old London town!
[P.S. A big thanks to everyone who made it to The Retro Bar on Friday and my farewell party - you all made it a fantastic night! Big thanks as well to Jonathan, David, Ian and Marcus who presented me, at the last pop quiz, with a DVD including some video footage of the party, still photos and bootlegs - marvellous stuff you clever puppies!]
‹ 20.4.02
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A few weeks ago David, Ian, Jonathan, Marcus and I headed out for a wine tasting afternoon at Vinopolis. We all seemed to get very drunk ... but in a good way you understand. And now, I've finally managed to put up a few photos of our wanderings that day.
‹ 11.4.02
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Turmeric fights cancer. Apparently.
‹ 10.4.02
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Depending on your interpretation, I either may or may not have "a vibrant personality and lots of confidence". Either way, a dodgy mug shot that I'd submitted to Graham's passport picture page was somehow picked up for a newspaper sales vacancy. File that one under interesting, annoying and legally questionable, with a cross-reference to "WTF?" if you would.
‹ 10.4.02
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What to do when a quiet, charming young foreign man comes to London? Well, why not try the following ...
Dateline Sunday ... Bart arrives in the afternoon from Pisa and settles into his hostel. Simon and I have previously arranged to meet at Picadilly Square and I arrive to find our guest there too. Tom soon joined us, and we headed to Balans for a little light noshing followed by the darkening of Escape's doors. However, for some bizarre reason it was closed, so we moved on to the Friendly Society (where Iain joined us) and began the evening's drinking session there. Followed by the Village, and then Mantos. Ya know ... the whole big Soho "experience-for-the-inexperienced" thang. I'm sure our guest thought we were the biggest bunch of freaks there were. Unfortunately, if he had, he wouldn't have been particularly far from the truth.
The following day, it was time for yours truly to don his tourist hat and escort Bart and Simon around one of my favourite chunks of London (Simon having covered much of this ground before though, in previous trips to The Big Smoke). The day was started at St. Paul's Cathedral, then went something like this - the Tower of London, Tower Bridge, the Golden Hind, lunch at The Old Thameside, The Globe, Tate Modern, the Millenium Bridge, the London Eye, Westminster Bridge, Big Ben and the Houses of Parliament, Westminster Abbey, Whitehall, Trafalgar Square, the Mall, Buckingham Palace and Green Park. Phew! Amazingly, our progress wasn't particularly hindered by the Queen Mother's funeral arrangements, although we boggled at the queue which started almost at Gabriel's Wharf, and at the log-jam which surrounded the Abbey. Simon departed early evening and Bart and I caught a quick bite at Pret before headed to Hackney for ...
Garbage! Finally, I had the chance to see one of the bands that I'd aimed to catch while I was in London ... and with only a week to spare! L.A. five-piece Phantom Planet (a good set - keep an eye on those boys) and My Vitriol (very very very shouty!) provided the warm-up and then it was on to the main event. The band emerged to a loud cheer, with a bigger one for Shirley - resplendent in a white tank-top, white pants and coiffed white hairdo - before launching into "Push It", "I Think I'm Paranoid" (my fave) and "Androgyny" (Bart's fave). As the gig was being filmed for MTV's Five Night Stand, I'd feared that their turn would be a short one and/or only recent material ... I'm happy to report though that I was proved well and truly wrong. The band produced a truly rocking set, that lasted for the better part of an hour and a half and included a good mix of material from all three of their albums. Much kudos to Ms Manson and the lads for their stirling efforts!
‹ 10.4.02
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The spooky old world of H.R. Giger ... featuring what is quite possibly the world's most disturbing "click here to enter" graphic.
‹ 6.4.02
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How to be antisocial, Lesson #1: Take two unassuming 'mos (this one and this one), drop them into the middle of a room filled with strange men and watch them scurry to the corner and play pool by themselves for the rest of the night. Very sociable. (P.S. I kicked Coates' ass ... well, not really, but Pyrrhic victories are my forte you see)
‹ 6.4.02
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Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls ... time for the long overdue round-up:
Thursday
The last working day of the month and, as it happens, my final day at BT Ignite. Yes, that particular nail was thumped ceremoniously into the London departure coffin with only a minor hiss and a roar - the HR intranet site was due and my God it was going to be completed before I left. I managed to hold onto my job with BT (in all its various guises) for the best part of two years which was an amazing feat really, given the sector's slump over recent times. I like to think my longevity as luck but my lovely colleagues attempted to convince me otherwise.
We took off for Fifteen05 once everything had been wrapped up and proceeded to imbibe a goodly amount of alcohol which is the norm for such occasions. "Oh, you bought me a shot of Tequila Sunrise ... how nice!." "Oh, you bought me a triple purple Aftershock ... that's very kind of you!" Needless to say, stumbling home was the order of the evening when we finally disbanded - a bittersweet farewell from an excellent job and one which left me with the means to continue my travels over several months. BT, I thank you.
Friday
So it was 6am and do you think I could get back to sleep? No. Arse. Chilled water is your friend. As are early phonecalls home to friends. And naps on the sofa. And finally making yourself presentable enough for an evening sojourn to the pub-i-plex in the West End. Kirsten and the girls were in fine form which lifted my spirit somewhat, despite the vast number of drunken lecherous punters who had also deemed it a worthwhile location to pass away the Good Friday.
Saturday
And speaking of passing away ... she did, at last. I've not much to say about that really. Saturday was spent down at Hammersmith on the banks of the Thames, watching Oxford and Cambridge battle it out in their annual boat race. "Go the rich team!", Aussie Paul, his friend Simon and I yelled as we drank cold beer and ate chips for a good couple of hours. Oxford won, for the record. The Boat Race is another one of those book-ending events for me - I was dragged unceremoniously to it the day after I arrived in the country in 2000 and managed to thoroughly enjoy myself before collapsing around 8pm. To be fair, I had been flying half way around the world and then drinking late on a Friday night in London for a good proportion of the 48 hours beforehand. Ahh, memories.
Johnny strong-armed me into going to G-A-Y later on that evening, and it was another enjoyable farewell to one institution I've definitely enjoyed during my sojourn here. The company was hilarious, the drinks were good and Nuclear Pussy succeeded in rousing the crowd to an appropriate level of frenzy. Oh, and Young Joe was randomly encountered which was a minor weird-out moment - no doubt, it'll be the last time I see him here also. Pah ... onwards and upwards and down with the maudlin I say!
Sunday
Awoke with an intact liver with which I was amazed. The clocks went forward but my brain certainly didn't as I launched myself into the fourth day on the trot - dinner with Scally and the recently bronzed Iain at Nando's before adjourning to The 2 Brewers to see Pam Ann ... again, for what will probably be the last time. She turned in a fantastic performance too - a very long one, which became all the more interesting when she dragged Aussie Paul up on stage, told him to strip off his shirt and dance with her and another similarly disrobed bloke to Kylie's "In Your Eyes." A certain companion's jaw dropped significantly but I'm not about to name names, am I Scally?
Monday
No. More. Alcohol. I thank you. And my gracious host for his accomodations, of course.
Today
"Lady Of Leisure" mode kicked in well and truly, resulting in me doing very little of anything at all for much of the day. Bliss. But there was always socialising to be done at The Retro Bar's Retroteasers Pop Quiz, right? Erm, no. One was sick, one was ill, one was working and one was finishing champagne. So one completed the quiz by oneself, scoring 11.5 out of 20 which one was rather chuffed with.
The Retro Bar itself is almost complete after it's Oprah-style makeover - the new artwork is scheduled to go up downstairs on Friday and upstairs has been completely transformed and is now a very swank lounge bar. Croontastic! And so nice of Wendy to arrange for it to be done a scant few days before my leaving party, don't you think? ;o)
‹ 3.4.02
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