Scotland was in fact colder than Moscow yesterday. Fortunately not in Edinburgh, but it still felt damn chilly! So think of us freezing our wee tootsies while you are nursing NY hangovers at the beach in NZ.
Last night, to keep warm, we danced in the World's Longest (and most chaotic) Strip-the-Willow, along George Street. we seemed to be surrounded by non-scots, so there was a fair but of creative licence in the dancing. All good fun though.
Tonight is Hogmanay proper - more crowds, more cold, more record-breaking attempts (tonight I think it's something to do with singing Auld Lang Syne). All the Christmas winter woollies are coming in handy!
Wednesday, December 31, 2003
Tuesday, December 30, 2003
Christmas in Scotland
Our Christmas kicked off on Christmas Eve with a bit of present opening (well, that's how Europeans do things, plus Christmas Eve in Scotland = Christmas Day in NZ). Also, we decided to open some in advance as we were heading across to Bellshill on Christmas Eve (no way of getting across on Christmas day, save a £120 taxi), and then going straight to Brussels on Boxing Day - it seemed silly to carry them all that way.
We got some cracker pressies from here and from home - a Bic Runga CD that has been played a lot already, plenty of winter woolies, books, cars (x2 - when Andrew opened his remote control one on Christmas Day he lost interest in the outside world and his only concern was which appliance in my uncle's house contained AA batteries!), and a paua necklace that was perfect for Christmas day. Thanks everyone!
Next stop was Joseph & Michael's (my uncles in Bellshill - where we stayed when we first came to Scotland) - we were staying at their place on Christmas Eve. Little did we suspect that this meant we would be up till 2am wrapping their neighbours' kids' presents! Apparently, this is an annual tradition, and as houseguests, we got roped in. It did mean that we got to see the latest toys and gadgets (all the same really - bikes, colouring books, dolls, games - but new ones to me were the eyetoy and golfclubs). And to marvel at the excessive volume and value of presents.
On Christmas Day we went to my Uncle George & Aunt Janette's for Christmas Dinner - back in Renfrew, my home town. Everyone was there (18 in total) - aunties, uncles, cousins, and even a brand new baby (Dylan) to keep everyone amused and clucking. It was like a family dinner back home, ramped up a notch or two. The Dohertys are renowned for their "gift o' the gab", and consequently, there is much gabbing. Usually at least 6 conversations taking place simultaneously, rich in dialect and colloquialism and family history/rivalries (inevitable at Christmas time and in a family of six). I loved it, even though I could rarely get a word in edgewise - love the verbal agility, the sparring, the storytelling, the laughs. Andrew reports that sometimes he had no clue what was going on!
After presents, food (a very trad Christmas spread, the highlight of which was definitely my Auntie Maureen's chicken soup) and much banter, we left in a different vehicle and in a different direction - this time to Ayrshire, with my Uncle Martin and his partner Ian. Martin keeps horses, so they have a place in the country. As it was dark and raining, we opted out of mucking out the horses before bed! Instead, we marvelled at the volume of stuff in the house, from fab paintings to more than 100 Royal Doulton dolls (the latter less to my taste!). Later, my uncle theorised that this was a reaction to an impoverished Glasgow childhood - because he now has the means to buy and surround himself with material possessions, he does. Interesting...
Our Christmas kicked off on Christmas Eve with a bit of present opening (well, that's how Europeans do things, plus Christmas Eve in Scotland = Christmas Day in NZ). Also, we decided to open some in advance as we were heading across to Bellshill on Christmas Eve (no way of getting across on Christmas day, save a £120 taxi), and then going straight to Brussels on Boxing Day - it seemed silly to carry them all that way.
We got some cracker pressies from here and from home - a Bic Runga CD that has been played a lot already, plenty of winter woolies, books, cars (x2 - when Andrew opened his remote control one on Christmas Day he lost interest in the outside world and his only concern was which appliance in my uncle's house contained AA batteries!), and a paua necklace that was perfect for Christmas day. Thanks everyone!
Next stop was Joseph & Michael's (my uncles in Bellshill - where we stayed when we first came to Scotland) - we were staying at their place on Christmas Eve. Little did we suspect that this meant we would be up till 2am wrapping their neighbours' kids' presents! Apparently, this is an annual tradition, and as houseguests, we got roped in. It did mean that we got to see the latest toys and gadgets (all the same really - bikes, colouring books, dolls, games - but new ones to me were the eyetoy and golfclubs). And to marvel at the excessive volume and value of presents.
On Christmas Day we went to my Uncle George & Aunt Janette's for Christmas Dinner - back in Renfrew, my home town. Everyone was there (18 in total) - aunties, uncles, cousins, and even a brand new baby (Dylan) to keep everyone amused and clucking. It was like a family dinner back home, ramped up a notch or two. The Dohertys are renowned for their "gift o' the gab", and consequently, there is much gabbing. Usually at least 6 conversations taking place simultaneously, rich in dialect and colloquialism and family history/rivalries (inevitable at Christmas time and in a family of six). I loved it, even though I could rarely get a word in edgewise - love the verbal agility, the sparring, the storytelling, the laughs. Andrew reports that sometimes he had no clue what was going on!
After presents, food (a very trad Christmas spread, the highlight of which was definitely my Auntie Maureen's chicken soup) and much banter, we left in a different vehicle and in a different direction - this time to Ayrshire, with my Uncle Martin and his partner Ian. Martin keeps horses, so they have a place in the country. As it was dark and raining, we opted out of mucking out the horses before bed! Instead, we marvelled at the volume of stuff in the house, from fab paintings to more than 100 Royal Doulton dolls (the latter less to my taste!). Later, my uncle theorised that this was a reaction to an impoverished Glasgow childhood - because he now has the means to buy and surround himself with material possessions, he does. Interesting...
Brussels sprouts part two
Brussels highlights range from the obvious to the pleasantly surprising. The beer was varied and delicious, served in wood-panelled bars that haven't changed in a century, by aproned waiters (some even with the full-length Trappist-monk style apron) who seem pleased to see and serve you. At a place called A La Becasse, waiters as above serve your draught lambic in earthenware pitchers, and you're seated at long wooden tables. Very rustic! Here's Andrew enjoying a Kriek at La Falstaff:
The food in Brussels was tasty - winter is a great time of year for this kind of food - all mashed potatoes and hearty sausages and tasty stews. No Brussel sprouts, but that's OK, I had my annual quotient at Christmas-time. The Doherty Christmas. That's a whole other story... back to Belgian food for now... The street food was excellent - waffles, of course, and a great find at the Christmas Market were croustillons (sp?), deep fried dough balls with an amazing texture, served dredged with icing sugar in a paper cone. yum.
The Christmas market was a great discovery, 10 mins from our hotel. In the pretty Place Ste Catherine, you could skate, ride bicycles with oval wheels (well, Belgium is the home of surrealism), ride ostriches and flying machines and dinosaurs and other fantastical birds/beasts/machines on the gorgeous merry-go-rounds, ride the big wheel and enjoy spectacular views over the city (we did this at night - the christmas lights looked so cool), eat (and eat, and eat, all manner of tempting treats), drink (mulled wine, gluhwine, hot wine and other variations on the theme) and if you're bored of all that, shop. I could have spent hours there soaking up the festive atmosphere (actually, we might have spent a couple of hours there).
The Atomium was a place that had been recommended to Andrew, and with a name like that, a visit was obligatory (science is fun, he keeps telling me). Actually, it was a very cool place, quite unlike any other building I've seen, with a very fast lift that takes you up to the top sphere, and then skinny escalators taking you between the other spheres. It was all very retro, very 50's - captured the spirit of the age, I think. Up close it's a bit rusty and leaky, but apparently they are working to restore and renovate it to its former fifties' shine. Check out the Atomium website for lots of great pics.
Another surreal moment in Brussels (there were a few!) - the huge nativity scene in the Grand'Place, complete with neon-lit cows (pink, orange, purple) and real grazing sheep. Decidedly weird.
Andrew has a colleague who visited Brussels twice last year, and is going again soon. I can now see why - I would happily visit again (although maybe not with Ryanair!).
Brussels highlights range from the obvious to the pleasantly surprising. The beer was varied and delicious, served in wood-panelled bars that haven't changed in a century, by aproned waiters (some even with the full-length Trappist-monk style apron) who seem pleased to see and serve you. At a place called A La Becasse, waiters as above serve your draught lambic in earthenware pitchers, and you're seated at long wooden tables. Very rustic! Here's Andrew enjoying a Kriek at La Falstaff:
The food in Brussels was tasty - winter is a great time of year for this kind of food - all mashed potatoes and hearty sausages and tasty stews. No Brussel sprouts, but that's OK, I had my annual quotient at Christmas-time. The Doherty Christmas. That's a whole other story... back to Belgian food for now... The street food was excellent - waffles, of course, and a great find at the Christmas Market were croustillons (sp?), deep fried dough balls with an amazing texture, served dredged with icing sugar in a paper cone. yum.
The Christmas market was a great discovery, 10 mins from our hotel. In the pretty Place Ste Catherine, you could skate, ride bicycles with oval wheels (well, Belgium is the home of surrealism), ride ostriches and flying machines and dinosaurs and other fantastical birds/beasts/machines on the gorgeous merry-go-rounds, ride the big wheel and enjoy spectacular views over the city (we did this at night - the christmas lights looked so cool), eat (and eat, and eat, all manner of tempting treats), drink (mulled wine, gluhwine, hot wine and other variations on the theme) and if you're bored of all that, shop. I could have spent hours there soaking up the festive atmosphere (actually, we might have spent a couple of hours there).
The Atomium was a place that had been recommended to Andrew, and with a name like that, a visit was obligatory (science is fun, he keeps telling me). Actually, it was a very cool place, quite unlike any other building I've seen, with a very fast lift that takes you up to the top sphere, and then skinny escalators taking you between the other spheres. It was all very retro, very 50's - captured the spirit of the age, I think. Up close it's a bit rusty and leaky, but apparently they are working to restore and renovate it to its former fifties' shine. Check out the Atomium website for lots of great pics.
Another surreal moment in Brussels (there were a few!) - the huge nativity scene in the Grand'Place, complete with neon-lit cows (pink, orange, purple) and real grazing sheep. Decidedly weird.
Andrew has a colleague who visited Brussels twice last year, and is going again soon. I can now see why - I would happily visit again (although maybe not with Ryanair!).
Brussels sprouts
The white Christmas didn't eventuate - warm (for Scotland at this time of the year) and wet instead. And now we're having a freezing (but the sun keeps it above zero during some daylight hours) Christmas/New Year hiatus.
I'm enjoying a couple of days of sleeping and reading and not much else - took a quick trot around the sales yesterday, but managed only to buy two things that under closer inspection in natural light need to be returned (a top with lipstick on it, and a pair of navy - not black - wolford tights). This was a rather pathetic effort. My shopping instinct/interest seems to be waning - maybe just a symptom of post Christmas retail exhaustion (although I kept my Christmas shopping fairly minimal this year anyway). All I managed to come back from Brussels with was a jar of chocolate spread from Le Pain Quotidien and some beer picked up at the airport for the simple reason that it's so much cheaper than here.
As you've probably gathered, then, we've just been to Brussels. Flew out from Glasgow Prestwick on Boxing Day to Charleroi (which despite what Ryanair says, is not really anywhere near Brussels), tempted again to fly into obscure airports by the promise of a flight for a penny (plus of course taxes and charges, which for the 2 aforementioned airports should be zero, given their state & services). Much confusion ensued, because the promised connecting bus to Brussels didn't really connect - at least not in the strictest meaning of that word. It was quite late, and when it did arrive, was mobbed by the huge hoard of passengers waiting to be whisked away from Charleroi. A bigger hoard than would fit on the bus. And we were practically at the back of the seething mass, not having developed very good mob mentality instincts. Uh oh. The bus was almost full, and it looked unlikely that we would get on, but then a bigger bus (twice the size) arrived - I suspect this was the one that was supposed to turn up in the first place. All those still outside headed for the big bendy bus, only to wait while the drivers of the 2 buses engaged in a heated and animated conversation. Probably about football. I looked at how many people (about 15) were waiting to get on the big bus, surmised that it was unlikely to leave with such a small load, and managed to blag our way back on to the almost full bus and take the seat of a small child. Our bus promptly left.
An hour later and we had been dropped off at the arse end of Gare du Midi - leaving a lot of people standing around looking confused by the complete lack of signage (or evidence that we were actually in a train station). We navigated our way to the metro, managed to buy tickets (yay high school French) and then discovered that the Metro we thought we were taking was actually an underground tram. Eventually we found our way to our hotel, having travelled by 4x4, plane, bus and tram to get there!
The getting there was the worst bit (getting home a bit of a pain too) - the rest of our time in Brussels was fab! More on that after lunch...I might even venture outside to buy a paper!
The white Christmas didn't eventuate - warm (for Scotland at this time of the year) and wet instead. And now we're having a freezing (but the sun keeps it above zero during some daylight hours) Christmas/New Year hiatus.
I'm enjoying a couple of days of sleeping and reading and not much else - took a quick trot around the sales yesterday, but managed only to buy two things that under closer inspection in natural light need to be returned (a top with lipstick on it, and a pair of navy - not black - wolford tights). This was a rather pathetic effort. My shopping instinct/interest seems to be waning - maybe just a symptom of post Christmas retail exhaustion (although I kept my Christmas shopping fairly minimal this year anyway). All I managed to come back from Brussels with was a jar of chocolate spread from Le Pain Quotidien and some beer picked up at the airport for the simple reason that it's so much cheaper than here.
As you've probably gathered, then, we've just been to Brussels. Flew out from Glasgow Prestwick on Boxing Day to Charleroi (which despite what Ryanair says, is not really anywhere near Brussels), tempted again to fly into obscure airports by the promise of a flight for a penny (plus of course taxes and charges, which for the 2 aforementioned airports should be zero, given their state & services). Much confusion ensued, because the promised connecting bus to Brussels didn't really connect - at least not in the strictest meaning of that word. It was quite late, and when it did arrive, was mobbed by the huge hoard of passengers waiting to be whisked away from Charleroi. A bigger hoard than would fit on the bus. And we were practically at the back of the seething mass, not having developed very good mob mentality instincts. Uh oh. The bus was almost full, and it looked unlikely that we would get on, but then a bigger bus (twice the size) arrived - I suspect this was the one that was supposed to turn up in the first place. All those still outside headed for the big bendy bus, only to wait while the drivers of the 2 buses engaged in a heated and animated conversation. Probably about football. I looked at how many people (about 15) were waiting to get on the big bus, surmised that it was unlikely to leave with such a small load, and managed to blag our way back on to the almost full bus and take the seat of a small child. Our bus promptly left.
An hour later and we had been dropped off at the arse end of Gare du Midi - leaving a lot of people standing around looking confused by the complete lack of signage (or evidence that we were actually in a train station). We navigated our way to the metro, managed to buy tickets (yay high school French) and then discovered that the Metro we thought we were taking was actually an underground tram. Eventually we found our way to our hotel, having travelled by 4x4, plane, bus and tram to get there!
The getting there was the worst bit (getting home a bit of a pain too) - the rest of our time in Brussels was fab! More on that after lunch...I might even venture outside to buy a paper!
Monday, December 22, 2003
Saturday, December 20, 2003
It's snowing
Just had to share that exciting piece of news. It's been freezing all day, a stay home and watch movies on telly and drink pots and pots of coffee kind of day. And tonight was the final of Pop Idol - something that everyone has been talking about for weeks (months?), but I hadn't managed to catch yet. This was fine, actually, as tonight's 3 hr extravaganza had plenty of scope for flashbacks. If anyone is wondering, Michelle from Glasgow with an absolute belter of a voice beat the pants off cheesy-smile-for-the-camera Mark from Wolverhampton. It was scarily compulsive viewing - I even toyed with the idea of voting at one point!
After Pop Idol, for some reason I decided to take a look outside, and was delighted and excited to see a decent covering of snow on the cars, street, trees, roofs. It was so pretty! And pristine - our street's a cul-de-sac so not much traffic. Mad search for hat and scarf and gloves, and we went out to play - snowballs, a wee snowman and other snowy fun. This is defintely the good bit about winter...
Just had to share that exciting piece of news. It's been freezing all day, a stay home and watch movies on telly and drink pots and pots of coffee kind of day. And tonight was the final of Pop Idol - something that everyone has been talking about for weeks (months?), but I hadn't managed to catch yet. This was fine, actually, as tonight's 3 hr extravaganza had plenty of scope for flashbacks. If anyone is wondering, Michelle from Glasgow with an absolute belter of a voice beat the pants off cheesy-smile-for-the-camera Mark from Wolverhampton. It was scarily compulsive viewing - I even toyed with the idea of voting at one point!
After Pop Idol, for some reason I decided to take a look outside, and was delighted and excited to see a decent covering of snow on the cars, street, trees, roofs. It was so pretty! And pristine - our street's a cul-de-sac so not much traffic. Mad search for hat and scarf and gloves, and we went out to play - snowballs, a wee snowman and other snowy fun. This is defintely the good bit about winter...
Wednesday, December 17, 2003
Festivities
Golly, it's been a while (and now Christmas is just around the corner). There have even been complaints about my poor posting form (which I suppose is in a way positive, as some people must actually read this blog).
A week and a half ago, we were in Dublin, as guests of old pals from Wellington. Despite odd "Accenture reunion" moments during the weekend, we had a splendid time. In marked contrast to Italy our pace was quite leisurely, making the long weekend a welcome break from workplace frenzy (to give you a clue, in one month I managed to accrue 5 days of "TOIL" as it is appropriately known here - Time Off In Lieu).
Dublin highlights would have to include the obligatory visit to the Guinness Storehouse - yes it was shamelessly commercial, but the design was fab (love the waterfall and the typography throughout), it was sufficiently interactive (you got to touch and smell everything), and the prize at the end is a perfect pint looking out over the Dublin skyline, surrounded, funnily enough, by a fair few Kathmandu-clad kiwis [the Kathmandu logo, or even just the recognisable Kathmandu classics, make kiwi spotting an easy sport in these parts].
Another highlight was the Saturday organic market in Temple Bar. One word. Yum. The shopping was good too - much more interesting fashion, quite a bit of antipodean stuff in boutiques. My favourite shop was Avoca, a kind of Kate-heaven! Dreamy knitwear, big chunky scarves, quirky gifty stuff, kitchen gadgets, food (glorious food)...I managed to visit twice in three days. Star purchase was these pretty pink Christmas lights that look like flowers (look, we even have presents under our "tree"!).
It was great to stay with locals. Liz and James went above and beyond the call of hosting duty, sending us a dossier of detailed instructions and maps in advance of our visit, plying us with the local brew (as Liz works for Diageo, I'm sure she gets discounts), cooking us dinner...much better than a hotel!
We arrived back in Edinburgh to sub-zero temperatures. It's climbed back up to something more tolerable, but is still a bit hillbilly (as a friend of mine likes to say - think rhyming). Add that to the extremely limited amount of daylight (only properly light at about 9am, and certainly dark well before hometime), and the prospect of hibernating for a month or three is an attractive one. BUT, Friday's my last day at work until the 5th Jan (and half of it will be occupied by Christmas lunch anyway), it's the shortest day on Monday, and then Christmas with the Dohertys, a trip to Brussels, Hogmanay and a visit from Olly & Antoinette over the next fortnight. And there's still Christmas shopping (waaaay more crazy here than in NZ) and travel planning to get me out of bed in the morning.
Golly, it's been a while (and now Christmas is just around the corner). There have even been complaints about my poor posting form (which I suppose is in a way positive, as some people must actually read this blog).
A week and a half ago, we were in Dublin, as guests of old pals from Wellington. Despite odd "Accenture reunion" moments during the weekend, we had a splendid time. In marked contrast to Italy our pace was quite leisurely, making the long weekend a welcome break from workplace frenzy (to give you a clue, in one month I managed to accrue 5 days of "TOIL" as it is appropriately known here - Time Off In Lieu).
Dublin highlights would have to include the obligatory visit to the Guinness Storehouse - yes it was shamelessly commercial, but the design was fab (love the waterfall and the typography throughout), it was sufficiently interactive (you got to touch and smell everything), and the prize at the end is a perfect pint looking out over the Dublin skyline, surrounded, funnily enough, by a fair few Kathmandu-clad kiwis [the Kathmandu logo, or even just the recognisable Kathmandu classics, make kiwi spotting an easy sport in these parts].
Another highlight was the Saturday organic market in Temple Bar. One word. Yum. The shopping was good too - much more interesting fashion, quite a bit of antipodean stuff in boutiques. My favourite shop was Avoca, a kind of Kate-heaven! Dreamy knitwear, big chunky scarves, quirky gifty stuff, kitchen gadgets, food (glorious food)...I managed to visit twice in three days. Star purchase was these pretty pink Christmas lights that look like flowers (look, we even have presents under our "tree"!).
It was great to stay with locals. Liz and James went above and beyond the call of hosting duty, sending us a dossier of detailed instructions and maps in advance of our visit, plying us with the local brew (as Liz works for Diageo, I'm sure she gets discounts), cooking us dinner...much better than a hotel!
We arrived back in Edinburgh to sub-zero temperatures. It's climbed back up to something more tolerable, but is still a bit hillbilly (as a friend of mine likes to say - think rhyming). Add that to the extremely limited amount of daylight (only properly light at about 9am, and certainly dark well before hometime), and the prospect of hibernating for a month or three is an attractive one. BUT, Friday's my last day at work until the 5th Jan (and half of it will be occupied by Christmas lunch anyway), it's the shortest day on Monday, and then Christmas with the Dohertys, a trip to Brussels, Hogmanay and a visit from Olly & Antoinette over the next fortnight. And there's still Christmas shopping (waaaay more crazy here than in NZ) and travel planning to get me out of bed in the morning.
Friday, December 05, 2003
Film stuff
Interesting times in the NZ film industry. Or at least, it looks that way from afar. The Screen Council has finally been set up, tax incentives are in place (the Large Budget Screen Production Grant), the world prem of LOTR:ROTK was held in Wellington. All stuff that was mooted, talked about, debated while I was working at Film NZ - it's nice to see these things come to fruition. Although, as always in the film industry, not everyone's happy. I was sad not to be there for the prem, looked like an amazing day. I haven't even managed to see a trailer for the film yet (and it's not like I haven't been going to the movies). I must just have been going to the wrong films.
I saw Love, Actually last night, which was, actually, quite entertaining. Sure, there were moments of implausibility (like that whole Wisconsin sequence - I thought at first it was a dream sequence) and schmaltz, but that's what Christmas is all about, isn't it?
I'm particularly looking forward to a new release here, Wilbur (Wants to Kill Himself), a Danish film set in Glasgow, which has had excellent reviews.
Off to Dublin tonight - Slainte!
Interesting times in the NZ film industry. Or at least, it looks that way from afar. The Screen Council has finally been set up, tax incentives are in place (the Large Budget Screen Production Grant), the world prem of LOTR:ROTK was held in Wellington. All stuff that was mooted, talked about, debated while I was working at Film NZ - it's nice to see these things come to fruition. Although, as always in the film industry, not everyone's happy. I was sad not to be there for the prem, looked like an amazing day. I haven't even managed to see a trailer for the film yet (and it's not like I haven't been going to the movies). I must just have been going to the wrong films.
I saw Love, Actually last night, which was, actually, quite entertaining. Sure, there were moments of implausibility (like that whole Wisconsin sequence - I thought at first it was a dream sequence) and schmaltz, but that's what Christmas is all about, isn't it?
I'm particularly looking forward to a new release here, Wilbur (Wants to Kill Himself), a Danish film set in Glasgow, which has had excellent reviews.
Off to Dublin tonight - Slainte!
Tuesday, November 25, 2003
Mangiare, bibere
Back in chilly old Edinburgh, after a week's glorious respite from the chill and the work and the mainly bad coffee, in the home of good coffee, Italy.
Coffee seems like a good place to start - it was definitely one of the highlights of our hols. No matter where you ordered it, the coffee was consistently quick (none of these 10 min long Pret waits) and consistently excellent. The best coffee, though, was at Sant' Eustachio -reputedly the best coffee in Rome. Their gran caffe is a real treat - sweet but perfectly balanced (I don't normally like sugar in coffee at all), and with a good centimetre of crema. Bellissima! Coffee is generally less that a euro for an espresso, about 1.20-1.30 for a cappuccino (no chocolate on top, smallish cup, not too much froth, more like a good NZ flat white), but that totally depends where you drink it and whether you stand or sit. Most expensive in Rome was Caffe Greco at 5.20 for a cappuccino (but in good company - once the favoured hangout of Casanova, Goethe, Wagner, Stendhal, Baudelaire, Shelley and Byron) and an interior of faded, comfy opulence.
In Venice we took things up a notch again, with coffee for 7 euros at Caffe Florian - admittedly, even more fabulous, and with an equally illustrious clientele (again Byron, Goethe, Casanova, as well as Proust, Dickens and Stravinsky - but now I'm just surname-dropping!).
In Florence we went more for cioccolato caldo (hot choc) - thick, slightly bitter, and served out of big urns. I bought some to make at home but the instructions are in illegible Italian, so the results might be interesting!
Food was good too - great pizza (thin and woodfired, tasty minimal toppings), pasta, pastries, pancetta, provlone, all the P foods are good. And of course gelato - in every flavour imaginable, handmade, delicious. I'm making myself hungry just writing about this.
Weirdest meal experience was defininitely a wee place in Rome called da Alfredo e Ada - run by 3 old Roman mamas who wanted to be your mama too. When we arrived front of house mama asked if we wanted wine, and if we liked cheese. That was the extent of the ordering system! Wine was white and from a big tap in the kitchen (but actually quite tasty), plenty of bread and pasta, and for our main course, she brought out 3 dishes and we got to choose which 2 we wanted (but could have the third too if we were still hungry!). Dessert was endless home-baked cookies, and some kind of port-y wine to dunk them in. No menu, no coffee, no prices, just food and wine as it comes. A low-stress, homely dining experience.
Back in chilly old Edinburgh, after a week's glorious respite from the chill and the work and the mainly bad coffee, in the home of good coffee, Italy.
Coffee seems like a good place to start - it was definitely one of the highlights of our hols. No matter where you ordered it, the coffee was consistently quick (none of these 10 min long Pret waits) and consistently excellent. The best coffee, though, was at Sant' Eustachio -reputedly the best coffee in Rome. Their gran caffe is a real treat - sweet but perfectly balanced (I don't normally like sugar in coffee at all), and with a good centimetre of crema. Bellissima! Coffee is generally less that a euro for an espresso, about 1.20-1.30 for a cappuccino (no chocolate on top, smallish cup, not too much froth, more like a good NZ flat white), but that totally depends where you drink it and whether you stand or sit. Most expensive in Rome was Caffe Greco at 5.20 for a cappuccino (but in good company - once the favoured hangout of Casanova, Goethe, Wagner, Stendhal, Baudelaire, Shelley and Byron) and an interior of faded, comfy opulence.
In Venice we took things up a notch again, with coffee for 7 euros at Caffe Florian - admittedly, even more fabulous, and with an equally illustrious clientele (again Byron, Goethe, Casanova, as well as Proust, Dickens and Stravinsky - but now I'm just surname-dropping!).
In Florence we went more for cioccolato caldo (hot choc) - thick, slightly bitter, and served out of big urns. I bought some to make at home but the instructions are in illegible Italian, so the results might be interesting!
Food was good too - great pizza (thin and woodfired, tasty minimal toppings), pasta, pastries, pancetta, provlone, all the P foods are good. And of course gelato - in every flavour imaginable, handmade, delicious. I'm making myself hungry just writing about this.
Weirdest meal experience was defininitely a wee place in Rome called da Alfredo e Ada - run by 3 old Roman mamas who wanted to be your mama too. When we arrived front of house mama asked if we wanted wine, and if we liked cheese. That was the extent of the ordering system! Wine was white and from a big tap in the kitchen (but actually quite tasty), plenty of bread and pasta, and for our main course, she brought out 3 dishes and we got to choose which 2 we wanted (but could have the third too if we were still hungry!). Dessert was endless home-baked cookies, and some kind of port-y wine to dunk them in. No menu, no coffee, no prices, just food and wine as it comes. A low-stress, homely dining experience.
Monday, November 10, 2003
Do you realise....?
That attending a Flaming Lips gig is an easy route to a grin that you just can't peel off your face. We were lucky enough to attend such a gig last night - the last in their UK tour, and one of those rare, life-affirming experiences that will be with me for a long time. If I could pay my 17 quid again and see exactly the same show again, I would! That good!
It was an all-singing (through megaphone AND microphone, She Don't Use Jelly to Happy Birthday & White Christmas, with plenty of audience participation), all-dancing (in animal suits and as inflatable suns illuminated from the inside by giant torches), all-the-gimmicks (smoke, gigantic rotating mirrorballs, snow, balloons, strobes, video, aerobics....) extravaganza. Andrew even had a moment of fame as the only person who could propel the enormous balloon to the third tier of the Usher Hall - people had been trying all night to pull this off, but didn't have the necessary technique! Great music, great show, a bit of anti-Bush sentiment thrown in for good measure - an awesome night, one I'll remember for a long time.
This was a great high note on which to end an excellent weekend. A win for the AB's made getting up at 6:30 on Saturday morning worthwhile. Watched Roman Holiday to get us in the mood for Rome (as if I needed any help on that one!). Celebrated one year in style at the Stockbridge Restaurant, over a tasty meal and even more tasty bottle of NZ wine (Crab Farm 1997 Cab Sav). Watched Jane Campion's latest , In The Cut, and got to see the location that I couldn't find in NZ (a frozen lake surrounded by trees, for an Oct/Nov shoot - the dream sequences in the film). Learned some more Italian. Slept through Sunday's rugby. Bliss.
That attending a Flaming Lips gig is an easy route to a grin that you just can't peel off your face. We were lucky enough to attend such a gig last night - the last in their UK tour, and one of those rare, life-affirming experiences that will be with me for a long time. If I could pay my 17 quid again and see exactly the same show again, I would! That good!
It was an all-singing (through megaphone AND microphone, She Don't Use Jelly to Happy Birthday & White Christmas, with plenty of audience participation), all-dancing (in animal suits and as inflatable suns illuminated from the inside by giant torches), all-the-gimmicks (smoke, gigantic rotating mirrorballs, snow, balloons, strobes, video, aerobics....) extravaganza. Andrew even had a moment of fame as the only person who could propel the enormous balloon to the third tier of the Usher Hall - people had been trying all night to pull this off, but didn't have the necessary technique! Great music, great show, a bit of anti-Bush sentiment thrown in for good measure - an awesome night, one I'll remember for a long time.
This was a great high note on which to end an excellent weekend. A win for the AB's made getting up at 6:30 on Saturday morning worthwhile. Watched Roman Holiday to get us in the mood for Rome (as if I needed any help on that one!). Celebrated one year in style at the Stockbridge Restaurant, over a tasty meal and even more tasty bottle of NZ wine (Crab Farm 1997 Cab Sav). Watched Jane Campion's latest , In The Cut, and got to see the location that I couldn't find in NZ (a frozen lake surrounded by trees, for an Oct/Nov shoot - the dream sequences in the film). Learned some more Italian. Slept through Sunday's rugby. Bliss.
Tuesday, November 04, 2003
Broken boilers
There is no heating at my work this week. The boiler is broken and its manual is missing and the plumber is having no luck finding parts. My office is in a converted Georgian townhouse in the New Town, and sprawls over 5 floors (even though we have only 9 staff). I am lucky enough to work in the attic (lots of stairs, every day, every time I want to go to my office / use the photocopier / send a fax / get some stationery etc. I'd like to say the result is thighs of steel!).
Up in the attic is the coldest corner of the building, so today I was bundled up in a woolly hat, and many, many layers (too hard to type or hold a pen with gloves on). I'm sure there's a health & safety issue here somewhere. I'm tempted to just stay in bed tomorrow...
The wind went crazy today, whipping up a frenzy of leaves and blinded, battered pedestrians wherever it went. You'll be pleased to note that A didn't get blown off the scooter though.
MTV awards this week, and the stars are in town (all except Britney, who has a wee sniffle). They're being held in Leith, a slightly seedy part of town , quickly becoming yuppified, in a BIG tent. Shame about the wind.
I'm watching the match of the year unfolding in the theatre of dreams (never is a cliche more at home than in the mouth of a football commentator - oh and don't dream of calling it soccer). Rangers (supposedly Scotland's top team but not right now) are 2-nil down to Man-U at half time. Ah well.
There is no heating at my work this week. The boiler is broken and its manual is missing and the plumber is having no luck finding parts. My office is in a converted Georgian townhouse in the New Town, and sprawls over 5 floors (even though we have only 9 staff). I am lucky enough to work in the attic (lots of stairs, every day, every time I want to go to my office / use the photocopier / send a fax / get some stationery etc. I'd like to say the result is thighs of steel!).
Up in the attic is the coldest corner of the building, so today I was bundled up in a woolly hat, and many, many layers (too hard to type or hold a pen with gloves on). I'm sure there's a health & safety issue here somewhere. I'm tempted to just stay in bed tomorrow...
The wind went crazy today, whipping up a frenzy of leaves and blinded, battered pedestrians wherever it went. You'll be pleased to note that A didn't get blown off the scooter though.
MTV awards this week, and the stars are in town (all except Britney, who has a wee sniffle). They're being held in Leith, a slightly seedy part of town , quickly becoming yuppified, in a BIG tent. Shame about the wind.
I'm watching the match of the year unfolding in the theatre of dreams (never is a cliche more at home than in the mouth of a football commentator - oh and don't dream of calling it soccer). Rangers (supposedly Scotland's top team but not right now) are 2-nil down to Man-U at half time. Ah well.
Sunday, November 02, 2003
What the folk?
Andrew just started yelling at me & the TV simultaneously and with a distinct note of excitement in his voice. I rushed to see what all the fuss was about, and there on our wee telly were The Flight of the Conchords, doing their parody folk thing while advertising Phones4U. Weird! And kinda cool. I'm quite used to playing spot NZ in car ads over here, but kiwi talent is a first.
Hallowe'en passed fairly uneventfully - nothing too spooky happened (although my colleague did give me a big fright in an orange, face-hugging demon mask). There was a bit of dooking for apples at work, and some of those sour sweets that make your face feel like it's shrinking. We spent the eve itself with some pals at an old and cosy pub in Stockbridge, the Antiquary, where they serve Guiness with a thistle etched into the head. Nice. Crisps (not chips) and beer for dinner, I'm turning into a real Scot. Not quite so Scottish that I could face a bad kebab on the way home though - gourmet hotdog was a definite improvement on the stereotype!
Rugby was probably the other theme for the weekend - morning games mean that days get off to a slow start. I was sad the Irish didn't beat the Aussies , and relieved NZ managed to get away with a win today. Don't know if we really deserved to. A says the first thing we have to do when we get to Venice in a couple of weeks is suss out a friendly bar where we can watch the World Cup final.
We locked the keys in the scooter yesterday. You wouldn't have thought that would be possible, but it is ("in the scooter" = under the seat). Fortunately we were within walking distance of home (where the spare was) so no major drama, just serious annoyance and lots of "I can't believe I just did that!". I wonder what would have happened if we had to call the AA (how much they would have laughed).
Italian lessons on the couch are going quite well, although we're getting a bit concerned that we haven't been introduced to any nouns yet! Still, I already know the most important ones (vino, espresso, gelato, pizza). There was quite a weird bit on the CD today when Michel (we're on first name terms) explained to us the difference between "I want to do it" and "I won't do it" (ie. the English phrases). To me, they are not at all confusing (or at least, they weren't). But the way he pronounced them, want and won't sounded exactly the same.
Other than that, a fairly lazy weekend. A couple of afternoons whiled away in cafes (it's the autumnal chill that makes this so appealing, I think) - Saturday at the formidable Italian deli (been an Edinburgh fixture since 1934!), Valvona & Crolla. Anyone who thinks you can't find good food in Scotland would be instantly converted by this foodlovers paradise. This afternoon a short saunter took us to Kaffe Politik in Marchmont, for coffee (of course), cake and a swag of Sunday papers.
Edinburgh's looking quite lovely at the moment - trees are ablaze with autumn colours (and no matter how efficient the leafblowers, you get to crunch through leaves as you walk just about anywhere). The light at this time of year is gorgeous, early morning fog is atmospheric, the cold means you breathe your own fog anyway, it's great. As long as it's not raining. Here's a pic we took at the weekend, from Calton Hill looking out over Waverly Bridge and the Old Town.
Andrew just started yelling at me & the TV simultaneously and with a distinct note of excitement in his voice. I rushed to see what all the fuss was about, and there on our wee telly were The Flight of the Conchords, doing their parody folk thing while advertising Phones4U. Weird! And kinda cool. I'm quite used to playing spot NZ in car ads over here, but kiwi talent is a first.
Hallowe'en passed fairly uneventfully - nothing too spooky happened (although my colleague did give me a big fright in an orange, face-hugging demon mask). There was a bit of dooking for apples at work, and some of those sour sweets that make your face feel like it's shrinking. We spent the eve itself with some pals at an old and cosy pub in Stockbridge, the Antiquary, where they serve Guiness with a thistle etched into the head. Nice. Crisps (not chips) and beer for dinner, I'm turning into a real Scot. Not quite so Scottish that I could face a bad kebab on the way home though - gourmet hotdog was a definite improvement on the stereotype!
Rugby was probably the other theme for the weekend - morning games mean that days get off to a slow start. I was sad the Irish didn't beat the Aussies , and relieved NZ managed to get away with a win today. Don't know if we really deserved to. A says the first thing we have to do when we get to Venice in a couple of weeks is suss out a friendly bar where we can watch the World Cup final.
We locked the keys in the scooter yesterday. You wouldn't have thought that would be possible, but it is ("in the scooter" = under the seat). Fortunately we were within walking distance of home (where the spare was) so no major drama, just serious annoyance and lots of "I can't believe I just did that!". I wonder what would have happened if we had to call the AA (how much they would have laughed).
Italian lessons on the couch are going quite well, although we're getting a bit concerned that we haven't been introduced to any nouns yet! Still, I already know the most important ones (vino, espresso, gelato, pizza). There was quite a weird bit on the CD today when Michel (we're on first name terms) explained to us the difference between "I want to do it" and "I won't do it" (ie. the English phrases). To me, they are not at all confusing (or at least, they weren't). But the way he pronounced them, want and won't sounded exactly the same.
Other than that, a fairly lazy weekend. A couple of afternoons whiled away in cafes (it's the autumnal chill that makes this so appealing, I think) - Saturday at the formidable Italian deli (been an Edinburgh fixture since 1934!), Valvona & Crolla. Anyone who thinks you can't find good food in Scotland would be instantly converted by this foodlovers paradise. This afternoon a short saunter took us to Kaffe Politik in Marchmont, for coffee (of course), cake and a swag of Sunday papers.
Edinburgh's looking quite lovely at the moment - trees are ablaze with autumn colours (and no matter how efficient the leafblowers, you get to crunch through leaves as you walk just about anywhere). The light at this time of year is gorgeous, early morning fog is atmospheric, the cold means you breathe your own fog anyway, it's great. As long as it's not raining. Here's a pic we took at the weekend, from Calton Hill looking out over Waverly Bridge and the Old Town.
Monday, October 27, 2003
Daylight wasting
Is that the opposite of daylight saving? Daylight is certainly increasingly fleeting. The clocks have just gone back, and it's dark when I come home from work now (although for now still light in the a.m.). I am struggling to resign myself to the fact that it will be like this for the rest of the year (and a bit of next year too). Meanwhile, all I hear from NZ are stories of the sunniest Labour Weekend in living memory.
Fitting, then, that it's almost Hallowe'en - which marks the end of the light half and the beginning of the dark half of the year. Hallowe'en is a big deal here (well it is a celtic festival - A took some convincing on that one, he was sure it was invented in America). In Scotland, people go guising rather than trick-or-treating, dooking for apples is almost obligatory, and many other messy food games are involved (I'll give you the full update after our themed team meeting at work on Friday - I'm busy carving turnips as we speak).
Speaking of Scottish festivals, I was excited today to receive my two free tickets to Edinburgh's Hogmanay, a big street party on New Year's Eve (or Hogmanay, as it's properly called). They allocate tickets by ballot in October each year. It promises the world's biggest Auld Lang Syne, not sure what else though - probably a serious chill to the bones and lots of general revelry to distract merrymakers from the cold.
We just received a copy of our wedding video - lovingly crafted by Richard Foy at Propellerhead Productions (aka his living room). I can't believe it was almost a year ago. Richard did a great job (not too long, not too much to cringe about, some nice touches with titles, music & graphics), and it was so nice to see faces and hear voices that we hadn't seen/heard for so long.
Is that the opposite of daylight saving? Daylight is certainly increasingly fleeting. The clocks have just gone back, and it's dark when I come home from work now (although for now still light in the a.m.). I am struggling to resign myself to the fact that it will be like this for the rest of the year (and a bit of next year too). Meanwhile, all I hear from NZ are stories of the sunniest Labour Weekend in living memory.
Fitting, then, that it's almost Hallowe'en - which marks the end of the light half and the beginning of the dark half of the year. Hallowe'en is a big deal here (well it is a celtic festival - A took some convincing on that one, he was sure it was invented in America). In Scotland, people go guising rather than trick-or-treating, dooking for apples is almost obligatory, and many other messy food games are involved (I'll give you the full update after our themed team meeting at work on Friday - I'm busy carving turnips as we speak).
Speaking of Scottish festivals, I was excited today to receive my two free tickets to Edinburgh's Hogmanay, a big street party on New Year's Eve (or Hogmanay, as it's properly called). They allocate tickets by ballot in October each year. It promises the world's biggest Auld Lang Syne, not sure what else though - probably a serious chill to the bones and lots of general revelry to distract merrymakers from the cold.
We just received a copy of our wedding video - lovingly crafted by Richard Foy at Propellerhead Productions (aka his living room). I can't believe it was almost a year ago. Richard did a great job (not too long, not too much to cringe about, some nice touches with titles, music & graphics), and it was so nice to see faces and hear voices that we hadn't seen/heard for so long.
Tuesday, October 21, 2003
It's snowing
Yep, it's October and it's snowing already (or at least sleeting - there's definitely some frozen stuff in those raindrops). 88% chance of snow tonight, -2 degrees. Brrrrrrrr! Fow a wee peek, check out these Edinburgh webcams. I'm so glad we have central heating.
I've just been in Dunfermline for 2 days - staff away days for planning and the like, but not too much in the way of teambuilding activities that are the stereotype of such days (no quadbiking :-( ). I suppose, being a charity, it's not a good look to spend on such frivolities. Still, the hotel we stayed at had a nice pool. Somehow I've come out of the two days with lots more work (including writing a communications strategy for the organisation!),
Here comes Andrew - I can hear the distinctive scooter drone. He looks VERY cold!...so cold in fact that he was unable to untie his shoelaces when he came in (his hands were that numb!). The poor wee soul.
My fascination with the telly is waning a bit - a fair amount of dross to wade through to find the good stuff. Some particular highlights tonight: Britain's Worst Driver, Wife Swap and Pornography: The Musical - an "operetta about the sex industry" where "porn stars sing about their lives". Apparently, the music's awful too.
There are some definite treasures though, some things that you would never see on TV in NZ (God bless the BBC and her public service requirement) - like the programme about this year's Stirling prize finalists and winner (an architecture award). Mind you, given the UK's obsession with real estate in all its guises, it's not really that surprising that architecture telly makes it to prime time.
Yep, it's October and it's snowing already (or at least sleeting - there's definitely some frozen stuff in those raindrops). 88% chance of snow tonight, -2 degrees. Brrrrrrrr! Fow a wee peek, check out these Edinburgh webcams. I'm so glad we have central heating.
I've just been in Dunfermline for 2 days - staff away days for planning and the like, but not too much in the way of teambuilding activities that are the stereotype of such days (no quadbiking :-( ). I suppose, being a charity, it's not a good look to spend on such frivolities. Still, the hotel we stayed at had a nice pool. Somehow I've come out of the two days with lots more work (including writing a communications strategy for the organisation!),
Here comes Andrew - I can hear the distinctive scooter drone. He looks VERY cold!...so cold in fact that he was unable to untie his shoelaces when he came in (his hands were that numb!). The poor wee soul.
My fascination with the telly is waning a bit - a fair amount of dross to wade through to find the good stuff. Some particular highlights tonight: Britain's Worst Driver, Wife Swap and Pornography: The Musical - an "operetta about the sex industry" where "porn stars sing about their lives". Apparently, the music's awful too.
There are some definite treasures though, some things that you would never see on TV in NZ (God bless the BBC and her public service requirement) - like the programme about this year's Stirling prize finalists and winner (an architecture award). Mind you, given the UK's obsession with real estate in all its guises, it's not really that surprising that architecture telly makes it to prime time.
Wednesday, October 15, 2003
Golly it's Olly
Had a super weekend - one of those weekends where you hardly spend any time at home and feel all the better and more rested for it. We had a visitor, inspiring us to go out and do stuff - Olly the vet. He didn't even break anything while he was here (although there were a few touch and go moments).
Definite highlight of the weekend was chance spotting of group of Norwegian telemark skiers serenading girl outside Mellis' cheese shop on Candlemaker Row. This may sound way too farfetched to be true, but true it is. They even had a papier mache dog as past of their entourage (and quite a nifty trick involving a skipole that made it look like the dog was dragging them up the hill). They skied UP the cobblestone street in their short pants, long socks and funny hats, quite a sight to behold. Olly and I had great fun poking around in dinky wee shops - where they specialised in cigars (Olly, sucked in by the sales pitch, bought some of Fidel's faves) cask-strength whisky, maps, wine, kilts...
Finding Nemo's worth a look for some feelgood family fun.
Update on last post - we now have TV. ASDA came to our rescue with something cheap, good, and in stock. Why all stores don't follow that model, I have no idea. It's gotta be a winner. I feel a wee bit like they must have felt in the 50's (or in NZ, the 60's) when TV was new and exciting and different. I am particularly interested in ads, but I'm sure it will wear off...
Just been to the inaugural Morningside Wine Tasting (hence the stream of consciousness blog), run by our good friends at Oddbins. A very congenial evening, held in this weird building that looks dead modern on the outside but inside is all 80's bad carpet and disco lights (think all your worst ferry crossing and casino experiences rolled into one). One NZ wine in the tasting, Wither Hills Sauvignon Blanc 2003. Yum! The best bit was all the stories about the winemakers (I think our host/guide Gareth had a soft spot for the underdog and Kiwi/Alsatian/Spanish battler). And the tasty wine, of course. He even recommended old fave Cuisine as the place for info on NZ wine. Much discussion about the merits or otherwise of Lindauer - seems to be quite popular here, sells for around £6-7/bottle. I also learned that aforesaid wine is NZ's 3rd most popular grocery item. Not sure how much truth in that, slightly scary, statistic!
Had a super weekend - one of those weekends where you hardly spend any time at home and feel all the better and more rested for it. We had a visitor, inspiring us to go out and do stuff - Olly the vet. He didn't even break anything while he was here (although there were a few touch and go moments).
Definite highlight of the weekend was chance spotting of group of Norwegian telemark skiers serenading girl outside Mellis' cheese shop on Candlemaker Row. This may sound way too farfetched to be true, but true it is. They even had a papier mache dog as past of their entourage (and quite a nifty trick involving a skipole that made it look like the dog was dragging them up the hill). They skied UP the cobblestone street in their short pants, long socks and funny hats, quite a sight to behold. Olly and I had great fun poking around in dinky wee shops - where they specialised in cigars (Olly, sucked in by the sales pitch, bought some of Fidel's faves) cask-strength whisky, maps, wine, kilts...
Finding Nemo's worth a look for some feelgood family fun.
Update on last post - we now have TV. ASDA came to our rescue with something cheap, good, and in stock. Why all stores don't follow that model, I have no idea. It's gotta be a winner. I feel a wee bit like they must have felt in the 50's (or in NZ, the 60's) when TV was new and exciting and different. I am particularly interested in ads, but I'm sure it will wear off...
Just been to the inaugural Morningside Wine Tasting (hence the stream of consciousness blog), run by our good friends at Oddbins. A very congenial evening, held in this weird building that looks dead modern on the outside but inside is all 80's bad carpet and disco lights (think all your worst ferry crossing and casino experiences rolled into one). One NZ wine in the tasting, Wither Hills Sauvignon Blanc 2003. Yum! The best bit was all the stories about the winemakers (I think our host/guide Gareth had a soft spot for the underdog and Kiwi/Alsatian/Spanish battler). And the tasty wine, of course. He even recommended old fave Cuisine as the place for info on NZ wine. Much discussion about the merits or otherwise of Lindauer - seems to be quite popular here, sells for around £6-7/bottle. I also learned that aforesaid wine is NZ's 3rd most popular grocery item. Not sure how much truth in that, slightly scary, statistic!
Tuesday, October 07, 2003
Sweeties, darling
Today I had a most enjoyable mission, which took me into just about every sweet shop in Edinburgh, and down memory lane as well. SALP (where I work) has a new campaign in November, called Bite Sized (all about reaching new learners by offering "bite sized" learning opportunities, short, sweet and free). I am writing to a bunch of people to encourage them to get involved, and decided to go with the theme a bit, and include a gimmick with the letter. My first choice, chattering teeth, were beyond our budget, but I decided that a couple of sets of Milk Teeth would grab the attention almost as spectacularly. So began my quest. I had no trouble finding penny shrimps, sherbet dabs, dolly mixtures, flying saucers, edible paper, drumsticks and kola kubes (yum, sucking on one now), but no milk teeth to be found. Still, I was pleasantly distracted. There's something fantastic about walking into a shop that can unlock so many childhood memories through its Pick n' Mix.
I have since tracked down some teeth - at the local UGC's candy bar (although it's probably called something different).
Andrew's busy listening to the miracle Italian CDs that he got from his work (they have a very comprehensive training library). "Michel Thomas" (the most sought-after language teacher in the world, apparently - he has taught Emma Thompson, Mel Gibson, Eddie Izzard & Princess Grace) promises "no pens, no paper, no homework, no memorising". 8 hours and we'll be set for Roma, I hope!
He's listening to it on our new home cinema system - we decided to get that rather than a stereo and DVD seperately. It makes a pleasant change from listening to everything on the PC or tranny - has everything, including radio, and can play MP3s and just about every other file format save .doc. The cinema part is a bit of a joke at the moment though - we don't have a TV yet. Not that we haven't tried. I have encountered some bad shop & restaurant service here, but so far, nothing compares to electronics retailers. They seem to specialise in stocking their shop with things that you can't actually buy, TVs without remotes, TVs without boxes, TVs that are "discontinued" and TVs that are out of stock. If you ask to see the picture quality, they show you a different brand and screen size and tell you that it will be just the same. Brilliant. I've actually lost track of how may TVs we have tried to buy.
Still, sans TV, we might get good at Italian!
Today I had a most enjoyable mission, which took me into just about every sweet shop in Edinburgh, and down memory lane as well. SALP (where I work) has a new campaign in November, called Bite Sized (all about reaching new learners by offering "bite sized" learning opportunities, short, sweet and free). I am writing to a bunch of people to encourage them to get involved, and decided to go with the theme a bit, and include a gimmick with the letter. My first choice, chattering teeth, were beyond our budget, but I decided that a couple of sets of Milk Teeth would grab the attention almost as spectacularly. So began my quest. I had no trouble finding penny shrimps, sherbet dabs, dolly mixtures, flying saucers, edible paper, drumsticks and kola kubes (yum, sucking on one now), but no milk teeth to be found. Still, I was pleasantly distracted. There's something fantastic about walking into a shop that can unlock so many childhood memories through its Pick n' Mix.
I have since tracked down some teeth - at the local UGC's candy bar (although it's probably called something different).
Andrew's busy listening to the miracle Italian CDs that he got from his work (they have a very comprehensive training library). "Michel Thomas" (the most sought-after language teacher in the world, apparently - he has taught Emma Thompson, Mel Gibson, Eddie Izzard & Princess Grace) promises "no pens, no paper, no homework, no memorising". 8 hours and we'll be set for Roma, I hope!
He's listening to it on our new home cinema system - we decided to get that rather than a stereo and DVD seperately. It makes a pleasant change from listening to everything on the PC or tranny - has everything, including radio, and can play MP3s and just about every other file format save .doc. The cinema part is a bit of a joke at the moment though - we don't have a TV yet. Not that we haven't tried. I have encountered some bad shop & restaurant service here, but so far, nothing compares to electronics retailers. They seem to specialise in stocking their shop with things that you can't actually buy, TVs without remotes, TVs without boxes, TVs that are "discontinued" and TVs that are out of stock. If you ask to see the picture quality, they show you a different brand and screen size and tell you that it will be just the same. Brilliant. I've actually lost track of how may TVs we have tried to buy.
Still, sans TV, we might get good at Italian!
Sunday, October 05, 2003
A gathering of the clan
There was snow in the air yesterday - it felt like somewhere in Scotland, it must be snowing. The skies were ominously leaden one minute, opened explosively to drench everything the next, and then blinding sunshine would reflect off every soaked surface as more grey clouds piled in...a three act play repeated again and again. A crazy weather day. A good day for a trip to Uddingston (home of Tunnock's, of teacake fame) and some family madness.
Uddingston's a Lanarkshire town not far from Bellshill (where we stayed when we began this wee Scottish adventure of ours)...our destination was the St John the Baptist Church Hall, where my uncle Joseph's partner, Michael, was celebrating his 60th birthday.
The hall was filled with Dohertys, Sweeneys, Gavigans and other branches of what I have come to realise is a fairly substantial family. My dad's 4 brothers & his sister were there, along with their weans (and grandweans x 2 on the way), and cousins galore. They all know how to party - lots of dancing, lots of drinking, lots of chat. Andrew & I were a star attraction ("all the way from NZ, mind?"), fielding many questions (some, overzealously bordering on interrogation) about our plans, impressions of Scotland, NZ, the Dohertys, families... Much debate about who looked like whom, many memories shared of my antics as a child... One uncle would talk to me, then another would want to know what he had said! They're a highly competitive bunch.
We have since been invited to Christmas at the godfather's (my Uncle George) for more family intrigue. Should be fun.
There was snow in the air yesterday - it felt like somewhere in Scotland, it must be snowing. The skies were ominously leaden one minute, opened explosively to drench everything the next, and then blinding sunshine would reflect off every soaked surface as more grey clouds piled in...a three act play repeated again and again. A crazy weather day. A good day for a trip to Uddingston (home of Tunnock's, of teacake fame) and some family madness.
Uddingston's a Lanarkshire town not far from Bellshill (where we stayed when we began this wee Scottish adventure of ours)...our destination was the St John the Baptist Church Hall, where my uncle Joseph's partner, Michael, was celebrating his 60th birthday.
The hall was filled with Dohertys, Sweeneys, Gavigans and other branches of what I have come to realise is a fairly substantial family. My dad's 4 brothers & his sister were there, along with their weans (and grandweans x 2 on the way), and cousins galore. They all know how to party - lots of dancing, lots of drinking, lots of chat. Andrew & I were a star attraction ("all the way from NZ, mind?"), fielding many questions (some, overzealously bordering on interrogation) about our plans, impressions of Scotland, NZ, the Dohertys, families... Much debate about who looked like whom, many memories shared of my antics as a child... One uncle would talk to me, then another would want to know what he had said! They're a highly competitive bunch.
We have since been invited to Christmas at the godfather's (my Uncle George) for more family intrigue. Should be fun.
Sunday, September 28, 2003
East & West
I was in Glasgow twice last week - once to attend a conference at the SECC (right next to the gorgeous armadillo), and the second time to run an adult learners' forum in the Mitchell Theater - another architectural treasure, of an altogether different era. The interior is yet another contradiction - all wood panelling, orange and brown carpet and architectural steel light fittings (originals of course), that wouldn't be out of place in one of the ubiquitous "style bars" that are so popular in these parts. The fourth in this little architectural quartet was the depressing interior of the Western Infirmary's emergency waiting room (one of the learners had had a fall and I was designated taker to hospital) - old and tatty and covered in posters warning of the evils of drugs, drink, sex, and pretty much everything else. As some of you may know, I intensely dislike hospitals, and have discovered that the only way to survive the experience is to treat visits as a cultural experience. I watched family tragedies unfold, and lives teeter on the brink, in that depressing, antiseptic wee room.
I like Glasgow. It's different to Edinburgh in a way that's maybe summed up by my architectural experiences last week - bolder, brasher, tattier, trendier, more diverse, shinier. Not that I dislike Edinburgh - which is perhaps more conventionally appealing, prettier (although not without its rough edges). Maybe it's just that my roots lie in the west.
My Edinburgh architectural experiences this weekend (courtesy of the fantastic Doors Open Days, where you get to go into buildings that aren't normally open to the public or would normally have to pay to see) comprised the South Bridge Vaults - a labyrinth of chambers built beneath one of Edinburgh's oldest bridges, where, up till 1820, people lived and worked. They are reportedly haunted, and are in the Guiness Book of Records as something like "the most systematically investigated supernatural site". We also visited the Royal College of Surgeons, where we wondered at the opulence of the building and the intricacy of the cornicing, learned about the man who was the inspiration for Sherlock Holmes, and looked at lots of truly repulsive specimen jars (cancerous lungs, tumours, and many other body parts that had seen better days). For one so squeamish, I think I managed rather well.
I was in Glasgow twice last week - once to attend a conference at the SECC (right next to the gorgeous armadillo), and the second time to run an adult learners' forum in the Mitchell Theater - another architectural treasure, of an altogether different era. The interior is yet another contradiction - all wood panelling, orange and brown carpet and architectural steel light fittings (originals of course), that wouldn't be out of place in one of the ubiquitous "style bars" that are so popular in these parts. The fourth in this little architectural quartet was the depressing interior of the Western Infirmary's emergency waiting room (one of the learners had had a fall and I was designated taker to hospital) - old and tatty and covered in posters warning of the evils of drugs, drink, sex, and pretty much everything else. As some of you may know, I intensely dislike hospitals, and have discovered that the only way to survive the experience is to treat visits as a cultural experience. I watched family tragedies unfold, and lives teeter on the brink, in that depressing, antiseptic wee room.
I like Glasgow. It's different to Edinburgh in a way that's maybe summed up by my architectural experiences last week - bolder, brasher, tattier, trendier, more diverse, shinier. Not that I dislike Edinburgh - which is perhaps more conventionally appealing, prettier (although not without its rough edges). Maybe it's just that my roots lie in the west.
My Edinburgh architectural experiences this weekend (courtesy of the fantastic Doors Open Days, where you get to go into buildings that aren't normally open to the public or would normally have to pay to see) comprised the South Bridge Vaults - a labyrinth of chambers built beneath one of Edinburgh's oldest bridges, where, up till 1820, people lived and worked. They are reportedly haunted, and are in the Guiness Book of Records as something like "the most systematically investigated supernatural site". We also visited the Royal College of Surgeons, where we wondered at the opulence of the building and the intricacy of the cornicing, learned about the man who was the inspiration for Sherlock Holmes, and looked at lots of truly repulsive specimen jars (cancerous lungs, tumours, and many other body parts that had seen better days). For one so squeamish, I think I managed rather well.
Tuesday, September 23, 2003
Thermals
My current shopping list has a slightly ominous ring to it - dad-style pjs, vests and other thermal wonders, a hottie. The air has a chilly crispness about it this week, there's a "central heating" van parked outside our building, and the coat and gloves and boots are all being hauled into action. Although the temptation is to make like a squirrel and hibernate (but no hottie squirrelled away yet to make that plan a goer), I probably just need to get better at layering.
Speaking of squirrels & other indigenous fauna, A's workmates have realised that NZ'ers don't know what badgers are. They think that this is the funniest thing in the world, and were absolutely delighted when they asked him what colour a badger was, and he replied, "sort of brownish".
That's all for now - a conference in Glasgow means an early train tomorrow...
My current shopping list has a slightly ominous ring to it - dad-style pjs, vests and other thermal wonders, a hottie. The air has a chilly crispness about it this week, there's a "central heating" van parked outside our building, and the coat and gloves and boots are all being hauled into action. Although the temptation is to make like a squirrel and hibernate (but no hottie squirrelled away yet to make that plan a goer), I probably just need to get better at layering.
Speaking of squirrels & other indigenous fauna, A's workmates have realised that NZ'ers don't know what badgers are. They think that this is the funniest thing in the world, and were absolutely delighted when they asked him what colour a badger was, and he replied, "sort of brownish".
That's all for now - a conference in Glasgow means an early train tomorrow...
Sunday, September 21, 2003
Mushroom Madness
This week's subject of fascination is fungi...
It's that time of the year when the possibility of foraging in the forest and finding food for free is a fabulous one (didya like all those Fs?). There is a likely woodland just down the road. But in the interests of not poisoning myself and other loved ones, I thought I'd better find out a bit more before I ventured into the woods (this is all sounding a wee bit Hansel & Gretel). Fortunately, help was at hand, in the form of enthusiastic mycologist Gordon Rutter, running a course this weekend at the Royal Botanic Gardens.
An hour of slides, showcasing weird and wonderful specimens from the fungi kingdom, and then it was off to the forest for a bit of a foray. I was quite delighted to find a common stinkhorn (phallus impudicus) - can you guess what that looks like? In the East, they are sold dried in markets, as aphrodisiacs. We also found a very pretty Fly Agaric (they're red with white spots, very Noddy & Big Ears, and also, apparently, very hallucinogenic). An old lady in our group decided to take it home because it was "such a nice looking specimen". Another very cool one is the beefsteak, which turns red when you cut it open and bleeds - possibly the only mushroom to spark a murder inquiry!
Moving on to movies, Belleville Rendezvous is worth a look. It's an animated feature by Sylvain Chomet, very French, very funny (in a laugh-out-loud kind of way), and completely bizarre. For me, the delight was in the gorgeous animation and intricate visual detail. And any film that can withstand a screening at Cameo 3 (tiny screen, sticky floor, smelling more than a little of wee) must have considerable merit. Will be interesting to compare Spirited Away, the other animated feature that's big news at the moment (I can already say I prefer the funky BR soundtrack to the Disney job done on SA).
This week's subject of fascination is fungi...
It's that time of the year when the possibility of foraging in the forest and finding food for free is a fabulous one (didya like all those Fs?). There is a likely woodland just down the road. But in the interests of not poisoning myself and other loved ones, I thought I'd better find out a bit more before I ventured into the woods (this is all sounding a wee bit Hansel & Gretel). Fortunately, help was at hand, in the form of enthusiastic mycologist Gordon Rutter, running a course this weekend at the Royal Botanic Gardens.
An hour of slides, showcasing weird and wonderful specimens from the fungi kingdom, and then it was off to the forest for a bit of a foray. I was quite delighted to find a common stinkhorn (phallus impudicus) - can you guess what that looks like? In the East, they are sold dried in markets, as aphrodisiacs. We also found a very pretty Fly Agaric (they're red with white spots, very Noddy & Big Ears, and also, apparently, very hallucinogenic). An old lady in our group decided to take it home because it was "such a nice looking specimen". Another very cool one is the beefsteak, which turns red when you cut it open and bleeds - possibly the only mushroom to spark a murder inquiry!
Moving on to movies, Belleville Rendezvous is worth a look. It's an animated feature by Sylvain Chomet, very French, very funny (in a laugh-out-loud kind of way), and completely bizarre. For me, the delight was in the gorgeous animation and intricate visual detail. And any film that can withstand a screening at Cameo 3 (tiny screen, sticky floor, smelling more than a little of wee) must have considerable merit. Will be interesting to compare Spirited Away, the other animated feature that's big news at the moment (I can already say I prefer the funky BR soundtrack to the Disney job done on SA).
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