Last days of summer

The last days of summer are dawning in London, and the winter is marching in. I’m glad though. We all look forward to hot summer days, lying in the parks or sitting by the river, but in reality that never happens. This year every time there was a nice day I tended to be in the office. When I’d finally escape, the beer gardens would be packed, and the crowds and crowds of tourists would be everywhere, shuffling their feet and stopping to photograph everything. Summer in the city may seem the perfect thing, but everyone forgets how much it smells, the Thames, the drains, the rubbish.....

Now it’s October, and it’s still pleasant outside, not too hot or cold, so far not too much rain (although London could  do with some to wash away the dirt and grime). And the tourists have left and this makes me very happy, I can now walk to work/the gym/the supermarket without getting pushed around and having to step into the road to get through. Unfortunately it is starting to get dark earlier, which makes me sleepy and wanting to go to bed early, this is the only downside.

But mostly I love this time of year, Autumn/Winter. Getting into pjs/jumpers/slippers early, curling up with a good book and a big mug of tea, tucking the blanket round me and enjoying the hibernation time. Everything slows down. The woolly boots and Uggs come out, making it acceptable to visit the theatre/cinema in your slippers. Going swimming and then the sauna, and emerging all warm into the cold air. Watching your frozen breathe all misty and warm. Playing in the fallen leaves. Snow falling, sending the entire country into chaos. Yes, I cannot wait for winter. I can’t wait to hibernate and ignore the world for a few months.   

Saved by Erik

There is one thing I would not be able to get through day to day life without, if I'm stressed, people are being noisy, I'm stuck on the tube, I can't sleep, I turn to this one thing, and calmness is restored.

In my free time. I'm walking round the beautiful Miro exhibition at the Tate, and tourists are just standing chatting in front of the paintings, paying no attention to the art whatsoever.

Day to day. I want to read my book on the train, but it's too noisy.

Thank you Erik Satie, if it wasn't for your beautiful piano works I would go insane, instead you block out the noise and pain of everyday life. For this I'm eternally grateful. xx

Shhhh. Tell No One.....

Last Saturday, I attended Secret Cinema, my second time with this theatrical experience. And I can say it was terrifying for me, but beautiful, a truly eye opening experience. It really made me think, how do people cope in situations such as these, and who is truly right?

Secret Cinema took place this time on Leake Street (famously the tunnel which Banksy decorated a few years back near Lower Marsh). We were lined up by soldiers at check points, women in white burkas running in and out of us and shouting, children playing with old fashioned toys. We got to the check point and had to hand over our 'papers' which we'd filled out earlier (or in Ed and Vanessa's case, 2 seconds before). These were then checked by army guys who were right in our faces, speaking in French. People who didn't have their papers in order were taken out the queue and told to stand with their faces to the wall, hands on heads, while a soldier screamed at them in french. We were then let through, and we walked into Algiers. Washing hung above our heads, the air was dusty, the lighting dark, it was very atmospheric. I forgot I was in a tunnel underneath Waterloo, I was in Northern Africa. We'd walked away into another world.

Walking around this underground town, there were different things to be found. In one house was the bombmaker, fixing different wires and boards together. Burka clad women ran through the streets, holding secret meetings in houses, and handing the devices to various bystanders. One of these unwitting members of the audience was then caught by the french soldiers brandishing huge guns (a little bit of a nightmare if you suffer from ligyrophobia :-s) and dragged off to the prison to be interrogated. Of course we all quickly followed.

The prison was dark and chain fencing provided a path for the viewer to walk round this area. At one end, a man hung by his hands from the ceiling, a hood over his head. Suddenly the captor makes a break for it, dashing towards the exit, but the soldier is quickly dragging him back, kicking and beating him (hopefully all acting!!). All very disturbing and real.

The event ended with us gathering in the square, with the french giving a speech about freedom, libertie.... then boom! Lights off, shouting, screaming, the rebels have set off a bomb in the square. People push through the crowds, some carrying children lying lifeless in their arms.... we're ushered through a door and into the cinema.

The film itself was The Battle of Algiers, commissioned by the Algerian government, and designed to show both sides of the conflict in 1960s Algiers. It's shot in documentary style, black and white, french with subtitles. It's very realistic, and in parts you feel you're watching actual footage of the conflict, although it is claimed that it is all actors.  Not a film I would have picked out to watch, but I enjoyed it a lot. It's very controversial, and shows both the threat of the Algerians with their bombs and terrorist actions, and the torture methods of the french. Topics very close to current events. It was meant to be impartial, but I couldn't help feeling for the rebels. I personally would want to protect my country and my people, and this was what they were doing. They wanted their independence, which is understandable, just the way they went about it was wrong. Maybe sometimes, the West are all too happy to impose themselves on other nations.

I don't want to spoil the ending, but it is a shadow of recent events. The recent events and this film have made me think, and question what is going on in the World today. When is it right to torture, to terrorise, or to shoot a man dead? What examples can one side hope to bring to the other, when all is shed is blood?

We left the screening to the beautiful sound of a song by Souad Massi called the Storyteller (Raoui in arabic). All the rebel actors were standing frozen around the underground town, lit up by the lights. Rubble had been scattered around, and bits of buildings had been placed everywhere. Like the film, and the set, I felt shattered.

Climbing through fears

Last week I went wall climbing for the first time, possibly one of the most terrifying experiences of my life. I volunteered to go up first, thinking that the best way to tackle it was to get it out the way (it didn't really occur to me at the time that the lesson was an hour, and I'd probably have to climb a wall more than once) I got half way up the wall, and froze. Completely. I couldn't move an inch, all I could do was hang on for dear life. I remember hearing distant voices shouting 'you can do it' and 'left hand yellow' (yes climbing is vertical twister) knees knocking, palms sweating. Sadly mind won over body, and I abseiled back down to the wonderfully flat and solid floor shaking and looking very pale. Not in a million years was I going back up there. Lisa's turn, she shot up the wall rather elegantly, at one point actually walking up the wall, it was amazing. Then she glided gracefully back down, and the rope was handed back to me. My turn again, and the instructor told me I was going up there, and I wasn't to come down until I'd reached the top. Well that was it, I was off like a shot, straight up the wall, and was holding onto the pipes on the ceiling. I've got to admit, I felt very sick, and very dizzy, but I had done it. And I loved the abseil back down, it's very peaceful and calming after the chaos of climbing.

Well, all this climbing got me thinking. Climbing a wall is like life. You can stay on the ground, it's safe and comfortable, and it's fine, lots of people are here with you. But that's pretty boring. Maybe you'll start climbing that wall, and you'll get half way up, and can't physically and mentally go any further, so you go back and start again. But sometimes you really push yourself, fight through the terror and the pain, and you get there. And it's well worth that push, taking all that risk, because of the rewards. you'll feel like you've earnt it, and you're so proud of yourself, the best feeling in the world.

And even though I feel scared and slightly sick when I think about climbing, I still really want to go again.

Little Rays of Sunshine

So I'm sitting at my desk in the office,  and one of the loveliest parts of the day occurs. Around 16.30 (good time, usually on my last tea of the day) the sun hits Mark's office window, bounces off the glass wall of his office, and hits the left hand corner of my desk. Actual, warm, bright sunlight. Proper light, not that fake stuff that I sit in all day. This has me desperately leaning across my desk to suck up the remaining part of the day, all that vitamin D goodness. (Can you get vitamin D through glass, I'm guessing not :-( ) Ohh sunshine, where have you been these past few months, oh how I've missed you!! It's so warm and lovely, and makes my desk look more welcoming. It shines through my cup of water, sending sparkly rays everywhere, lighting up my Tresco postcard and making the beaches look even more inviting. The air conditioning has gone, and I feel like I'm sitting on that beach, pushing the sand through my toes, and flicking off the little sand hoppers that are bouncing everywhere. The office is transformed, and I'm no longer staring at accounting codes and cost centres, just the turquoise and greens of the gently moving sea, sipping on my cool glass of Chilean Savvy..... ahhh heaven.......

There is another window in our office. The blind is pulled over as soon as the sun shines through, apparently it is too bright......