The map does not show the rain:
only pale blue for sea...
- Looking at a Map, Dannie Abse (extract)
Being in a new place, should you see all of the things on a map or in a guidebook?
A map becomes 3d and builds itself in your mind as you explore the place. Some parts will remain flat, with little drawings of buildings and places of interest. Others are alive with smells and sounds and your memories and photographs, fighting for space on the paper.
I always feel a trip to somewhere new has been a success; worthwhile; memorable; to be told of; if I discover a place that suits it's surroundings for me, or makes me think, whether that simply be the atmosphere of the city or town, or epitomises the essence of the trip. Or something that's surprising...
I love reading guidebooks. I love finding out what someone else deemed to be worth putting in those few pages. Why is somewhere better to see than another?
No one will have the same experience as you, anywhere.
Why does something or somewhere stand out particularly, years later?
A woman dressed in rags on her knees but with a perfect posture, head down, palms up to the sky and to the hundreds of well dressed passers by, on a back street near the Rialto bridge in Venice in December. This sticks in my mind more than the hundreds of similar sights I saw in South East Asia.
________________________
Walking, wandering, photographing along residential streets and canals on a sunny early evening in Amsterdam, five of us stumbled across Cafe Nagel.
An Art Deco, one-room corner bar, it looked intriguing. We spent an hour or so in there, drinking local beer and enjoying the fact that it felt like our discovery of the weekend. Full of people who appeared to be meeting after work, none of whom took any notice of us - we were neither welcome or unwelcome - invisible observers.
Smoky, but only for the next 8 days until the smoking ban would kick in, the sun was at the perfect point in the sky where it shone in sheets through the windows and stained glass panels; the walls covered in illustrations, photos and prints in mismatched, mis-sized frames, all of which implied a strong story behind them. Who knows. That's what we wanted to believe anyway.
We went back the next day about 2pm.
It wasn't open.
Maybe there are some places you shouldn't return to.....
Wednesday 30 July 2008
Saturday 19 July 2008
Crown & Cushion, Manchester. Thurs 17th July.
Local pub for local people.... or so you'd think.......
Sat outside in the sheltered smoking area, jumping up every 3 minutes to switch the timed heat lamps back on - they made it feel like it could possibly be summer after all.
Bee. South African. Female. Brickie, sound engineer, musician (bass player), roadie, member of pub pool team, tattoo on arm of a devil with a pentagon - the symbol of her favourite black metal band from Finland. Said she was Aussie until Mars spoke up.
Bloke. South African (nothing to do with Bee). Quarter finalist at Wimbeldon about 12 years ago. Has family in Leicester and Cambridge. Came to Manchester because he'd never been here before.
Roy. Has a gold ring that says Roy on it, he had it made for himself when he turned 50 (just in case he didn't always remember his name by this time). Security guard; got held up with shot gun 22 years ago, was able to convince the attacker that he wasn't scared as he had a metal tobacco tin in his top pocket which would have stopped the fatal bullet. Gave Schroeder full pack of tobacco.
Barman. Long dark hair slicked back, has a look of a biker who sold his bike years ago. Locals call him Hannibal Lecter.
Head of pool team. Is going to propose to his girlfriend on 8th November in this pub. Proposed to his last wife in a restaurant in London on Christmas Eve. His Dad is from Switzerland but he's never been there. He'll go when he takes his dad's ashes there. His Dad has cancer but you wouldn't know it apart fron the hole in his throat. His Dad was a master confectioner by trade, he made 632 wedding cakes in his career and was pool champion 26 times.
Sat outside in the sheltered smoking area, jumping up every 3 minutes to switch the timed heat lamps back on - they made it feel like it could possibly be summer after all.
Bee. South African. Female. Brickie, sound engineer, musician (bass player), roadie, member of pub pool team, tattoo on arm of a devil with a pentagon - the symbol of her favourite black metal band from Finland. Said she was Aussie until Mars spoke up.
Bloke. South African (nothing to do with Bee). Quarter finalist at Wimbeldon about 12 years ago. Has family in Leicester and Cambridge. Came to Manchester because he'd never been here before.
Roy. Has a gold ring that says Roy on it, he had it made for himself when he turned 50 (just in case he didn't always remember his name by this time). Security guard; got held up with shot gun 22 years ago, was able to convince the attacker that he wasn't scared as he had a metal tobacco tin in his top pocket which would have stopped the fatal bullet. Gave Schroeder full pack of tobacco.
Barman. Long dark hair slicked back, has a look of a biker who sold his bike years ago. Locals call him Hannibal Lecter.
Head of pool team. Is going to propose to his girlfriend on 8th November in this pub. Proposed to his last wife in a restaurant in London on Christmas Eve. His Dad is from Switzerland but he's never been there. He'll go when he takes his dad's ashes there. His Dad has cancer but you wouldn't know it apart fron the hole in his throat. His Dad was a master confectioner by trade, he made 632 wedding cakes in his career and was pool champion 26 times.
Friday 11 July 2008
predictions for the weekend
Friday
16.57
Columbo sits in empty office thinking she should just leave, what with one colleague on a train down to London for a party (i.e. not thinking about calling office anytime soon) and the other colleague at home in a mega disabled state (her words) having had keyhole surgery the day before on her knee ( lloyd grossman and the whole crew went must have taken a look as she cannot move without crying) ... so she's not going to calling either.
17.00 and no seconds
Mars leaves work and goes to meet Schroeder to begin birthday drinking (Schroeder's)
18.00
By the time Columbo arrives at bar in N4 there will be a few gathered variously drinking happy hour wine and beer
19.24
Red avenger talks about recent gigs and we probably feel guilty for not attending
20.04
Talks of calling Freddie surface and are quickly dismissed
20.32
Talks of moving to another bar surface and are dismissed
22.00
Lose a few people to drink
22.02
Call Freddie
22.50
Go to Spar for booze and fags, go back to ours with select few
Saturday
03.15
Tom Waits gets first play of the night
05.00
Mars goes to bed
06.25
Mars gets up
06.54
Every CD in apartment now doing a collective impression of a space age rug
09.03
Few people leave
10.00
Fags run out and everyone else gives up
16.30
Mars, Columbo and Schroeder get up to a bomb site
17.00
After cursory cleaning operation, straws are drawn for who will go to shop for supplies
17.30
Supplies of newspaper, crisps, ice lollies, chocolate, bread, bacon, eggs and other expensive crap are welcomed into apartment. Watch crap TV and read paper
21.20
Talks of going out for a beer surface and are dismissed
22.00
One of us tries to drink a beer or glass of wine. Still watching crap TV
00.00
All give in and go to bed
Sunday
11.15
Tidy apartment, go and get paper
14.30
Realise its 14.30 and that we should do something. Carry on reading paper.
17.00
Go to shop to buy wine and beer and food
17.30
Begin to cook potato dauphoinois and beef bourginon
22.00
Serve potato dauphoinois and beef bourginon (it takes a long time!)
23.30
All go to bed
..... you know what, writing that makes it seem really depressing! we've done pretty much that every weekend since the festival mania died down and it was nice at first but that pretty much is the meaning of a lost weekend......
Lets see what happens in real life eh??....
16.57
Columbo sits in empty office thinking she should just leave, what with one colleague on a train down to London for a party (i.e. not thinking about calling office anytime soon) and the other colleague at home in a mega disabled state (her words) having had keyhole surgery the day before on her knee ( lloyd grossman and the whole crew went must have taken a look as she cannot move without crying) ... so she's not going to calling either.
17.00 and no seconds
Mars leaves work and goes to meet Schroeder to begin birthday drinking (Schroeder's)
18.00
By the time Columbo arrives at bar in N4 there will be a few gathered variously drinking happy hour wine and beer
19.24
Red avenger talks about recent gigs and we probably feel guilty for not attending
20.04
Talks of calling Freddie surface and are quickly dismissed
20.32
Talks of moving to another bar surface and are dismissed
22.00
Lose a few people to drink
22.02
Call Freddie
22.50
Go to Spar for booze and fags, go back to ours with select few
Saturday
03.15
Tom Waits gets first play of the night
05.00
Mars goes to bed
06.25
Mars gets up
06.54
Every CD in apartment now doing a collective impression of a space age rug
09.03
Few people leave
10.00
Fags run out and everyone else gives up
16.30
Mars, Columbo and Schroeder get up to a bomb site
17.00
After cursory cleaning operation, straws are drawn for who will go to shop for supplies
17.30
Supplies of newspaper, crisps, ice lollies, chocolate, bread, bacon, eggs and other expensive crap are welcomed into apartment. Watch crap TV and read paper
21.20
Talks of going out for a beer surface and are dismissed
22.00
One of us tries to drink a beer or glass of wine. Still watching crap TV
00.00
All give in and go to bed
Sunday
11.15
Tidy apartment, go and get paper
14.30
Realise its 14.30 and that we should do something. Carry on reading paper.
17.00
Go to shop to buy wine and beer and food
17.30
Begin to cook potato dauphoinois and beef bourginon
22.00
Serve potato dauphoinois and beef bourginon (it takes a long time!)
23.30
All go to bed
..... you know what, writing that makes it seem really depressing! we've done pretty much that every weekend since the festival mania died down and it was nice at first but that pretty much is the meaning of a lost weekend......
Lets see what happens in real life eh??....
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)