Envy

ST LUKE'S: Now you might wonder why I've got a whole bunch of old shit at the top of the page? I've finally finished my Paris posts and I hoped people might want to read them. I still have to finish Brittany and then I'm off to Italy on Thursday. I know, it's tough being part of the global elite.

Anyway not much happened on the weekend. I went to the Walkabout in Angel to watch Australia smash the Lankans. I was at the same venue for the semi final when we smashed the Yaapies. And I smashed the VB. Smashing all round.

Yesterday I stayed at home all day. Except for a trip down to the library at Brixton. Consequently I have nothing to report.

Départ

ST LUKE'S: Computer's at work have crashed, or at least the software we use to work has, so I figured now is as good a time as any to finish the story of Paris. Four or so weeks late. (This should be amended too over two months late but hey?)

Our last day in Paris the Louvre, the whole Louvre and nothing but the Louvre. ("You can't handle the Louvre!") We were unable to buy our tickets online, apparently you need to do it weeks in advance so they can post it to your home country. Instead we rocked up early to get a jump on the queue. Having entered the building, bought tickets and checked coats with a minimum of fuss we found a cafe to draw up an attack plan.

Three one and a half hour sessions broken up by lunch and afternoon tea. The first session was spent with the da Vinci hordes taking in the renaissance masterpieces. They were, of course, lovely, as were the large scale French paintings housed in the same wing. The pre-lunch highlight however was Canova's sculpture "Love and Psyche". These two beautiful figures coil around each other animated by pure desire. The space between their lips was probably the most emotionally charged space I've ever seen in a sculpture.

After lunch we tackled the Dutch Masters amongst others and while some of the paintings I'd been hoping to see had been rotated out we did see an incredible collection of David Teniers. Situated on the other side of the gallery, it was so quiet it felt like we were in another building.

With our attention almost ruined we refuelled with coffee and cookies and then tackled some of the remaining sculptures, the "Winged Victory of Samothrace", the Islamic galleries and various other archaeological curios. But after about six hours inside an art gallery like the Louvre we were shot. So we left, walked through the Tuiliries and got to the Metro back to the West Bank for one last supper of over priced coffees, crepes and pastries before heading cross town to catch the Eurostar home

Jour Deux

BRIXTON: Day two started with a walk through the beautiful mansions of the historic Marais, then across the Seine, as it separates the Île de la Cité and the Île St-Louis from the Left and Right Banks, and down Notre Dame with another overpriced flat white to kickstart the day.

Then we walked through the enormous Notre Dame contending with the legions of tourists desperate to take grinning happy snaps in its sombre surrounds. Afterwards it was off to Saint Chapelle for a guided tour of this stained glass masterpiece. Unfortunately the tour was hosted by an atrocious performance poet on speed so when she moved to take the group upstairs we lingered by the gift shop for another ten minutes.

Upstairs, however, the stained glass windows, at least fifteen minutes high, were absolutely stunning, bathing the room in a cornucopia of light. After spending five or so minutes gazing up at the stained glass from the seats lining both sides of the chapel, we walked over to the Pompidou for some modern art.

Five stories high the Pompidou is perfectly positioned to take advantage of the stunning Paris skyline. From the sandcastle stylings of the Sacre Couer, to the Eiffel Tower, the gothic splendour of Notre Dame, the modern skyscrapers and the romantic rooftops that seem to roll on forever, it really is the most impressive skyline I've ever seen.

Inside the art gallery has some excellent works by Kandinsky, Picabia, Duchamp and Braque but unfortunately the fourth floor, which houses the gallery's contemporary art, was closed. However to compensate there was an exhibition of graphic journalism on the bottom floor that included, not only an exhibit on one of my favourite writers Joe Sacco, the work of a host of graphic journalists I haven't yet read but now intend to do so.

Then it was back on the Metro and over to the Left Bank for another wander through the various streets. We were originally going to find a cinema to catch one of the numerous repertory seasons perpetually screening in Paris. Unfortunately there wasn't much on. There was a Fellini festival but speaking neither Italian nor French made this kind of pointless.

But it was on this ultimately pointless search for a cinema that our Paris trip took it's most exciting turn. Before describing our adventures though I'd like to point out that I'm a massive fan of Ernest Hemingway. His novel The Sun Also Rises is one of my all time favourites. A fact attested to by my Blogger profile. But despite going to visit San Sebastian and Pamplona on my trip to Spain last September (both locations central to the novel), I had completely forgotten I liked the novel. To say nothing of that fact that much of the action takes place in Paris. So while I watched The New World on Thursday night I tried to scribble down a few locations. But that beer coaster had long since been misplaced.

So there we were. Standing on a street corner, having just partaken in the fruits of a local patisserie, looking for Atlantis. As tempers frayed I made one last plea to Kate that we scale the small hill in front of us. And what I wise move that decision proved to be.

No more than a hundred metres from where we'd spent ten minutes lingering, pondering our evening, was the Rue de Moufettard. A spectacular street steeped in the history of the Lost Generation overflowing with gorgeous restaurants, cheese shops, fruit markets, fish mongers, book stores and literary cache. It was as though we had come home. After enjoying the delicacies of wine merchant and a chocolaterie we found the only cheap boozer in France and settled in to watch England lose to Ireland in the Six Nations. Then it was off to a bistro to stuff ourselves with three courses of finest French cooking.


After a couple of apres-dinner drinks and some more Lost Generation atmospherics it was time to pour ourselves into the Metro and head home.

Like a night out in Sheffield

ST LUKE'S: Spent the weekend either at work or enjoying this early Spring. Yesterday we were on the Heath and at one stage it looked like we'd have to call the whole thing off but then late in the afternoon the clouds vanished and the park was again awash in sunlight.

The highlight was a trip down to the Valley on Saturday afternoon to see the mighty Sheffield United take on Charlton Athletic in a key relegation dogfight.We had away tickets which meant we got to sit with a couple of thousand braying Yorkies. The game finished 1-1 which, all things considered, was a good result that should see us dodge the drop.

Obviously a key part of English football matches is the singing and there were a number of great chants ringing out. I was quite surprised though when I discovered my team's anthem basically compares the team to a chip sandwich.

You fill up my senses
Like a gallon of Magnet
Like a packet of Woodbines
Like a good pinch of snuff
Like a night out in Sheffield
Like a greasy chip butty
Like Sheffield United
Come fill me again....
Na Na Na Naa Naa Naaaaa, ooo!

A Sinking Ship

ST LUKE'S: As we like to say at work: "You can't say that, that's racist!"

And Another Thing

ST LUKE'S: So it turns out Cho Seung-Hui was a massive fan of Collective Soul playing "Shine" over and over again. Now I wonder, will these soft-rock B-listers get shit thrown at them a la Marilyn Manson after Columbine?

And that's another thing, first we had Manson, now Collective Soul, maybe if somebody had given these kids a music appreciation lesson all this could've been avoided.

If anyone comes down that chimney Virgina, shoot 'em!

ST LUKE'S: I must preface this with my feelings of sympathy for the family, friends and fellow students of those killed in Virginia. However, as the American people go through their grieving process it's worth pointing out that post-Columbine the nation weighed its love of firearms against the potential danger of school massacres and decided the right to bear arms was more important. Those are the facts.

And it's a little rich hearing the Bush Administration describe the tragedy as being of "unimaginable" proportions. Sadly the deaths of 33 innocent people is easily imaginable thanks to the invasion of Iraq. That's 33 innocent people blown to bits in a marketplace on a good day. If Empress Rice described the bombing of Lebanon by Israeli forces, which the US refused to stop, as the "birth pangs" of democracy perhaps it's worth considering this current tragedy as little more than an itch on the left forearm of American society.

Again my sympathy for all those directly effected by the tragedy. But this will change nothing.

Man the six inchers!

BEDFORD ROAD: After spending two weekends under the influence of illness and another in Brittany it was time to turn our hands to being tourists. So after taking inEl Topo (Tagline: See the naked young Franciscans whipped with cactus. See the bandit leader disemboweled. See the priest ride into the sunset with a midget and her newborn baby. What it all means isn't exactly clear, but you won't forget it.) at the recently renovated NFT on Friday night and working on Saturday morning it was time to take advantage of Londres.

Thanks to the generosity of the people at South Western Trains, or perhaps in compensation for their ridiculously overpriced train tickets, a load of London attractions are currently 2 4 1 upon presentation of a voucher and a South Western Train ticket. In an effor to mix the glorious, if unseasonal, April sunshine with our plans we visited the HMS Belfast which is moored on the Thames. This warship (or whatever the trainspotting military historians call a boat of her class) served in World War II and then the Korean War and now acts as a museum.

The six inchers

It was really cool. We were able to climb down into the bowels of the ship to look at the engine, we could peer out from the gun sights, we even got to see the onship DJ booth. In between we took time out to watch the Grand National which is the most random and ludicrous horse race I've ever seen. A field of about forty, they use a rope across the front to start, it goes for about eight minutes and about half the horses throw their jockeys leaving some of the horses to continue the race sans rider. Heading back to the ship with even the slightest beer buzz and some incredibly steep and narrow staircases to climb probably wasn't the brightest idea but we survived.

On Sunday we were supposed to visit Leeds Castle. Which is in Kent. Not Leeds. But we got far too drunk watching Point Break the night before and missed the coach. So instead we visited the London Wetlands Centre which was also 2 4 1. This outdoor centre is supposed to educate people about the various habitats of wetlands birds around the world but on a 25 degree April day the exhibitions labelled Iceland and Tundra seemed anything but. And the whole thing was packed full of ducks and pigeons. A little like visiting a zoo full of squirrels. But it was fun to be walking around a fairly large wetlands park and I do enjoy the serenity of the bird hides. I probably like the ones at Banyo better but then I'm a little strange like that.

This isn't a duck

Then after we finished we walked down to the pubs by the bridge at Hammersmith but they were too crowded so we sat in the park next door sipping cider feeling quite contended with the world. We finished the weekend watching Sunshine which was good except for a rather bizarre and rubbish twist.

Kate took this picture: they're flowers

I Got Game

BEDFORD ROAD: One of the stranger parts of our trip to Brittany was the 3+ hour journey we made from Kerity to Morlaix to go to a music festival. Public Enemy were headlining.

It was a beautiful drive there, weaving through these tiny little Breton towns, past fields of cows, as the twilight slowly slinked off into darkness. And Morlaix itself seemed quite pretty with an awesome Roman (I think) viaduct though by the time we'd arrived we were a little pissed and impatient to get to the festival.

First band on when we got there were Asian Dub Foundation who were OK though very, very angry. I wasn't too interested though. I was all about the PE and drinking as many cheap beers as possible. PE were cool. The last time I saw them was at a Livid and I have literally never been so pissed in my life. I don't remember anything of the show or the two bands that preceded them. And the time before that I was about thirteen and Charlie's dad chaperoned us. So I didn't exactly know what to expect.

They were good. They've reconciled with Professor Griff so there were S1W's dancing around the stage. Terminator X is gone but they have some (alleged) DMC winner in his place. They've got two guitarists and a drummer. And they've got Flavor Flav and Chuck D. They played the crowed perfectly, getting people to throw their hands in the air, leading chants of "Fuck George Bush, Fuck Tony Blair, Fuck Condaleeza", a scat style call and response bit. And they did all their hits. They played Black Steel, Cold Lampin', Shut 'Em Down, He Got Game, By the Time I Get to Arizona, My '98, Burn Hollywood Burn and Fight the Power. The two guitarists even rocked out a little medley of Back in Black, Whole Lotta Love and Purple Haze. But the two lead rappers are pushing 50 and the political realities that they rapped so angrily about at the end of the '80s and beginning of the '90s really haven't change. So it was a little cheesy and a little sad.

With a massive drive ahead of us, we had to leave about an hour after PE so we really didn't see any other bands which was a shame but it was a good night. And we met so many friendly people who couldn't get their heads around why there were Australians at a music festival in Brittany.

Welcome to the Terrordome

ST LUKE'S: Back pain, centred on my spine, means I'm still unable to start up running, play football or do any type of excercise. It also hurts a shitload when I cough. So I took myself down to Tooting to visit a walk in centre last night after work.

Other than my brief tenure working in admissions at Charing Cross Hospital, this was my first real experience with the NHS. At first I was assessed by a nurse. Our conversation went something like this:

Nurse: You really should have made an appointment with your GP last week.
Me: But last week I'd only had the back pain for a couple of days, I was going off to France and I thought it would go away. Now I can't get an appointment till next week.
Nurse: Well that's the way things work here.
Me: I'm sorry. It's the first time I've had to do anything with the NHS.
Nurse: I know it's different to Australia. [snidely]. And more expensive too.

At this point I lost my patience and replied "True. It is more expensive. For £5 I could've visited any doctor I wanted, where I wanted, when I wanted." I glared at her and she gave my referral to the Doctor.

Apparently the back pain is a result of asthma. Odd though. I've had asthma for 22 years and never once has it given me backpain. Still it's hard to argue against the NHS being one of the wonders of modern Britain. Surely up there with its fast, cheap and reliable rail network and the peerless success of its sporting teams.

Brittany: Part One

ST LUKE'S: Well I'm back at home (or work as the present case may be) after our Easter sojourn in Brittany and while I have posted a couple of pics I thought you'd probably want to hear about our cider and cheese soaked adventures.

Day one started with a Eurostar journey, a cross town Metro ride to Montparnasse, and then a TGV train on to Rennes. A time hiccup meant we weren't able to find our seats for the first leg of the TGV trip but we were able to stand in the bar carriage harrassing some ageing French pop star so it wasn't a total write off. In Rennes we spent the afternoon devouring steak and chip baguettes (a national delicacy) and visiting Elerig's grandma before Kate and I were picked up by Lisa's parents. We spent the night with Lisa's parents devouring fine French food and making conversation in mangled English, translation and my bastard French.

The next day was a trip to the walled city of St. Malo, lunch by the beach, a visit to another beach, and then a long drive to the spectacular church of Mont St. Michel as depicted below. The whole scene is incredibly touristy but then it is quite spectacular and sometimes you just can't have one without the other. We spent an hour or so walking the walls, climbing little staircases, looking out over the acres of beach exposed by the low tide, eating ice cream and sipping beers in quaint little restaurant. Maybe the whole thing was a little disappointing but then the whole time I was there I couldn't get Monet's fantastic pictures out of my head. It would have been wonderful to be cashed up enough to stay in one of the hotels on the rock, eat a world renowned omellette (apparently) and watch the tide come and go. In king tides it washes over the causeway and the carpark turning the entire rock into an island.

We finished the evening off with dinner at Lisa's parents. The meal included steak, some of the nicest beans I've ever tasted and, most significantly, the best chocolate I have ever consumed. You know the elephant chocolate brand? Well same brand but this block included tiny bits of salt that offset the sweetness in the most exquisite way.

I Don't Like It

ST LUKE'S: The ABC recently held a poll on the world's greatest speeches and announced the winners at an event hosted by Phillip Adams. While the top ten were fairly predictable, Adams did comment that the Fish n Chip Bitch from Ipswich was nominated for her notorious maiden speech. It inspired me to go back and read that vile stream of hate filled drivel and I was reminded of how the speech shunted Australian political debate to the right. It made it acceptable for mainstream politicians and Australians to say things that would have been unacceptable in the Keating era. But what was most shocking was how much of the Howard agenda was foreshadowed in the speech. Then as I clicked back to see where the speech was being hosted I found this on the front page of the NSW One Nation website. Shame Australia shame.

Some Pictures of Brittany

on the beach



on another beach



church on a beach



opposite the water

Boony Wants a Beer

ST LUKE'S: Our home has been brightened recently with the addition of two new housemates, Boony and Beefy. Shannon and Nick sent them over as an Easter present and now we can barely imagine life without our mustachioed friends.

I'm just sad I wasn't in Australia for Christmas. Apparently they were singing Christmas carols on Christmas Eve.

Recuperation

ST LUKE'S: For anyone interested in my ongoing health sagas - I just rated myself 85% to Flo so on that basis I should be 100% by the time I leave for France on Thursday. Basically all that's left is a nagging cough and a sharp, stabbing lower back pain but on recent weeks it's not much to complain about.

Yesterday I even managed to make it to Bodean's, an American style restaurant on Clapham High Street. For £10 you can order a plate of ribs, pork BBQ, chips and coleslaw with a beer to wash it down with. Truly a feast to be savoured.