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[Aug. 31st, 2008|09:10 pm] |
Oh, what a lovely weekend I've had.
Friday night drinks and Thai with my Brother and his wife. I moaned for half the night, and then told them how great I am for the rest of the evening.
Saturday I pottered all morning. Practiced my hooping for a while. For the first time in ages I got on my bike and cycled around Hackney. Stopped in London Fields to watch a man who had a bike that sort of folded into a drum kit and he sat (topless...twit-ta-woo) playing a tune. Cycled down to Shoreditch and wandered around Spitlefields and up Brick Lane. I like to wander around Brick lane. My Grandfather lived at the top of Brick Lane, and I always remember visiting him in the early 80's, and taking the walk down the Lane. As a kid growing up in an all white area of Middle Essex, I found the Bangladeshi community around Brick Lane so exotic! The smells and the chatter were enticing and frightening. I wish I could go back to the early 80's and see it all again. I think that's why I loved Monica Ali's book Brick lane so much. I wasn't that impressed by the film version, but it was a nice reminder. It also reminds me of my favorite books A Kid for Two Farthings by Wolf Mankowitz (who went to the same school as my Dad). This reminds me I must have some of the illustrations from this book framed.....if I can ever find my copy.
After buying bought salt beef bagels, I cycled through the city and over London Bridge (always tres exciting!) and along the river to the South Bank. Stopped off in the NFT at their Mediatheque (I'm not been there before, It’s flipping great, completely free and rather comfy). I watched a TV play from the 1970s called Bermondsey. I liked the way they called it Brokeback Mountain in a southeast London Pub. Ultrabaz, if you've not seen and loved this I will eat my cap.
Wandered around the Southbank for a while, and then went to the National to see Her Naked Skin by Rebecca Lenkiewicz. The press has been going ga-ga because it is the first play ever by a woman writer to be seen on the National's biggest stage. Generally it ticked my boxes. It's a great play about the suffragettes and follows the unlikely lesbo relationship forged in Holloway Prison between working class Limehouse girl Eve, and Lady Celia Cain. Although the over complex stage set often reminded me of the dreadful Bad Girls the musical', the play is pretty amazing. Go and see it. Get £10 tickets and spoil yourself with an ice cream in the interval.
The cycle home was amazing; it took 25 minutes from Waterloo to the Crapton corner of Hackney that I live. At one point I had to shout 'out of my way' as a man in a Borat Thong Swimsuit drunkenly staggered across the road.
Today, my brother helped me to replace the radiator in the Peugeot 106 that I am driving to Croatia for charity in 11 days......fuckity fuck fuck! We did some swearing, and we banged rusty metal with hammers, and we got dirt under our fingernails, and now the sodding car won't start and we don't know why. Arse. |
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| Comments: |
That sounds like quite a day!
I got stood up.
There's a place called Crapton?!?!? It soundst like a place Widow Twankey would come from! "50 miles to London, and no Dick!"
My favorites over here are the ones utilizing Native American names....Wingahocking, Tulpahockin, Skukamchuck, it's nearly endless!
Oh no, not really. It's Clapton, but we all call it Crapton.
Oh.......... well, where are we going to keep Widow Twankey?!?!?
I suspect when they start yuppifying the name al la St Ockwell, will be the day Ray Towers is put up for sale.
Happy Birthday , Toby ! x
Thank you! I hate my Birthdays, I find them depressing (I put cards straight into the recycling bin). Yesterday was OK though, got through with just a few sulks (normally there are tears!) . | |
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