under another sun

I have set my face against camping ever since an unspeakable family camping holiday in Devon in 1976. Our tent was very pleasant, for a tent. After we lurched into bed we found the airbed was slightly on a slope, and after a few hours of sliding off the airbed onto our heads Lorraine had the brainwave that it might be a better idea to have our pillows at the other end. This, plus the effects of a good deal of alcohol, a cold night and all the sliding meant I barely slept at all. We did have a strangely romantic walk to the toilets through the dew sodden grass in the early morning light with the landscape looking beautiful at six in the morning. Despite a distinct absence of bounce (which turned out to be a widespread phenomenon among co-revellers) Lorraine and I enjoyed the day very much. Down to the barn again, where restorative buns full of bacon sausages and eggs, and mugs of tea and a good deal of talking. A lull in the middle of the day, Lorraine slept and I had a lovely chat wi...

So up at the De Trafford hotel and eating a Chef and Brewer breakfast downstairs before packing and getting ourselves sorted for the big wedding to be held at a farm near the village of Wincle, south of Macclesfield and in the edge of the peak district national park. All rather idyllic and a gorgeous drive there too. As we were early as we turned off the main road, near the farm, we squinted into the Royal Oak only to see Nicola and First Matie climbing out of a car. We parked up and had a cheery reunion over coffee and then a beer, and were joined by Lucy and Sean, other pals of Matt's. Then we then drove into what was described as the middle of nowhere and kept going through some achingly beautiful countryside and arrived at Barleyford Farm. Family friends of Matt and Isy who were getting married. The French Bloke and Craig pointing the way, both fairly refreshed already, to the barn field where we parked up and found our tent in a village of tents. Quickly changed in there, an...

Lorraine and I up and off to London, for we were gathering at The City Barge on Strand on the Green. Funny how places keep cropping up in life. The Barge was a local  of mine, in a former life and as we made our way to the river I showed Lorraine places I'd lived in Chiswick. We were there to celebrate First Matie's departure for Hull where she is going to live for the foreseeable time for reasons of the heart. A gathering of friends in an upstairs room of the Barge, which is a good deal posher than when I lived nearby. A beautiful room looking down on the river, where we spent the afternoon and evening eating and making merry. Attendees were Kate (naturally) and many of her mates, who mostly are my mates too. Matty boy (who seemed to have done most of the organisation as usual) and Isy and the rather cute baby Elsie, The French Bloke and Max, Mel and Craig, Nicola, Sarah and Sylvie, Dan, Ian, Gareth, Stephen, and the lovely Matt Hindley arrived later. Some speeches were ma...

Fish out of water Called up by Nicola and there could well be some work for my pals in Tavistock Square next week, which is a boon. Otherwise found it hard to find much motivation towards much else today. Had a nice chat with Mum on the phone, and went to the gym and home via Sainsburys. Not long after Lorraine got home, Anton and Anna called around and we popped up to the Signalman for a swift beer before descending on our usual curry house. Anton bringing the pristine LP of Chris Squire's Fish out of Water which he ordered on his iPad from ebay for me. Importantly had a copy of the poster which I had on my bedroom wall as a kid. It is a lovely thing of a catch of fish dangling from a rope among irises, which looks like stained glass. Chris Squire was a major boyhood hero of mine.