under another sun

Up to London today, meeting Bob in Trafalgar Square. Met up and had a quick coffee and a roll in a Prêt. We discussed exhibitions to see, as is our wont. The cafe was noisy and he reeled off a list of options, including a fascinatingly postmodern one called 'Debussy and Freud'. I mentioned this seemed very interesting but it turned out this was actually Lucian Freud, which we went to see. But not before having a single pint in the Salisbury.  Thence into the exhibition. Enjoyable without being life changing. Freud's penchant for repulsive looking flesh tones always makes me feel weird, despite their obvious skill. On only one occasion did Bob point at a painting with his finger hovering three or four millimetres over the priceless surface, a habit that makes me, and assorted staff nervous. Thought provoking stuff. Then we mooched off to Ye Olde Cheshire Cheese a long time haunt. Today we were able to get a seat in the little bar, where a Welsh guy began chatting to us. Then...

Friday, and up to the smoke to see Bob. A fine way to spend a Friday but felt curiously twitchy about being in London as I was waiting for Bob. Still, nice to be getting off at Blackfriars and sauntering down the South Bank towards the Royal Festival Hall, chatting to Mum on the phone. I know the South Bank very well having worked there for a couple of years, apart from all the visits. Met Bob outside Folyes and after a bite to eat and a cup of tea inside the RFH we went to Haywards Gallery and spent a happy couple of hours mooching around the Hayward Gallery looking at an exhibition of contemporary painting called Mixing It Up: Painting Today . It felt great to be presented with work that stretched me, rather than looking at stuff that was simply decorative. Bob and I mooched about discussing paintings at some length. Several works I found really excellent. Kudzanai-Violet Hwami's picture Family Portrait, made me feel uneasy but we were chatting about it for ages. Pictures by Gare...

An unspeakable morning, with icy pouring rain. Much of the country covered in snow. Lorraine off to work, and after I sent a worky couple of emails I packed up my bag and headed off into the deluge. Outside my gate a man passed walking his dog, and said 'nasty weather' to me from under his hat, and he was right. Walked down to Preston Park. A South African businessman based in Australia started talking to me as we peered out at the rain that had some snow in it, but he soon began to enlarge on foreigners, the dangers of being 'overrun' and the glories of Brexit, I made my excuses and legged off to faux first when the train came.  Up to Paddington, where the rain was slushy. Into the Paddington offices, and dropped off the laptop they had lent me, and received a handshake from now recovered Daniel, and hug from my pal from other agencies, Yas, who was there and just about to go to Sri Lanka today, and from Harriet one of the team I had been away with in Austria. From P...

Zooming around doing a million chores, before grabbing a train to Blackfriars where I met Bob in the Blackfriar pub. A swifty in there, followed by a sandwich somewhere else before we settled into the now traditional Ye Olde Cheshire Cheese. Found their dark mild, which tastes lovely and is very low alcohol, and we sat there in the historic dark sipping beer and reminiscing for a couple of hours. A lovely afternoon, and profoundly good to see Bob again. Home in time to say hello to Lorraine as she climbed into Dawn's car. A gorgeous hour or so of doing nothing sitting on the sofa watching telly, for I am still feeling rather wretched and cold ridden. Spoke to Toby, and we will be having a meal together with Romy and Lorraine this very weekend in Tokyo. Excellent! Below a snap of a random punter enjoying the ambience.

Between Cheese and a Mitre Working on re-laying out the CD cover today, and also a long phone chat with Sophie. Then off to London this afternoon to go to my dentist in Chiswick. More The Black Dahlia on the train. Was 45 mins early so got off at Turnham Green station and mooched past my old flat in Thornton Avenue, where I lived for a year before moving down to Brighton. That was a particularly depressing year, and I found I had blanked the street name and house number. Then through Chiswick down towards Strand on the Green, where Matty boy, First Matie and Graeme now live, past pubs where I used to read poetry, or places where friends had lived. I moved to Chiswick in 1986 which is a long time ago. Melancholy fading light, and by the time I had arrived at the dentist I felt as if life is fleeting and everything I've done was a no more than a hill of beans. A 40 minute wait in the dentist's reception not helping much. I was delayed by a massive job on an older man, requiring ...

A splash of colour Lorraine and I took a holiday today, a day trip up to the smoke, and actually the first time we've ever been to central London together. I decided we should go to the Courtauld Gallery , which for some reason I had never visited. Simply a brilliant collection, in what was for me a perfectly-sized gallery, where you can have a really good look at most of its contents in a few hours. Nourished by a bowl of soup and a coffee in the cafe. It has a wide range of work from Renaissance to contemporary, but its fabulous impressionism collection is the jewel in its crown. There was Monet, Renoir, Seurat and Gauguin, van Gogh’s Self-Portrait with Bandaged Ear, Manet’s great last painting A Bar at the Folies-Bergère plus several works by Cézanne. Found myself unexpectedly falling in love with Two Dancers on a Stage by Degas. Very interesting building too and found myself taking a few snaps of its interior. After we wandered through Covent Garden and nearby streets (me feel...

In the Cittie Another night full of vivid dreams, and then up craving for a damn fine cup of Joe, once this and toast needs sated burned the Armenian flute music on Mum's laptop to take home, and Mum and I travelled into town on separate missions, saying goodbye at Baker Street. I went off to Tavistock Square and had a lunchtime beer with Pat and Karam. A good gossip and lots of laughs. Pat going into a school next year too, to talk about advertising to 16 year olds. Then a pleasant couple of hours wandering about in London free as a bird, pausing for a bite to eat and a browse in Foyles bookshop before making my way to meet Mick Ginty in Ye Old Mitre pub dating back to 1546. Satisfying to sit there in a busy, wood panelled room near and a portrait of Henry VIII and a real fire. One of those timeless London moments. Mick talking about the arrival of The Gintini , his and Lucy's baby due in about six weeks. Bob arrived and after an overlap, Mick left. Bob and I then proceeded o...

Historic drinking Up to London this afternoon, after a little work. I will have to do a little more on the hogsite over the holidays: but it's manageable. Being continually jostled on Oxford Street for a couple of hours wore my Christmas spirit to a tattered rag. Being lurched into by a small, drunken Big Issue seller who proceeded to hurl abuse at me for my rudeness was almost the last straw. Things improved drastically walking down the Strand and Fleet Street, where I went to meet Bob in Ye Old Cheshire Cheese . While I waited for him, I fell into conversation with three young Australians, a girl and two boys. One called Tom had left Manchester two years ago and moved down under. He loves it there. All very cheery, which quickly restored my festive spirit. Bob appeared and we stayed with my new friends for half an hour or so. They were very young and it made me feel quite paternal, especially as the younger lad was not used to drinking very much. Then Bob and I left, to complete ...

Bob and the river Little deathless prose and poetry produced today, although I had a fruitful chat with a magazine publisher Mex had kindly put me in touch with. Went into town late this afternoon to meet up with Bob. Had a jolly evening discussing among other things the imagined attractiveness to ladies of the more mature gentlemen (such as ourselves) and - at some length - religion. During the course of this we went for a walk along the Thames, which was looking particularly beautiful and popped into a Doggets where I played several games of pool with the old Mad dog, poking the butts of our cues into the elbows of disgruntled drinkers. Then across the river to Ye Olde Cheshire Cheese, where we sat in the small dark bar near an open fire. This is a fine pub and one of my all time favourites and with its dark wood panels and old paintings a place for confidential lurking. Then to The Temple Bar for a curry before zooming home listening to an audiobook. Below two views of the river. ...

Foul play About 50% of the country seems to be reading Harry Potter and the deadly shallows at the moment. From the several people in the train all around me this morning. Of the people near me reading a book, 4 out of 5 of them were Pottering. Even the woman at the swimming pool looked up from her Harry Potter to admit one. Writing an immense and less than magical project about cholesterol at work, thousands of words to be done at double quick time. The three word version being: cholesterol, it's bad . This forcing much slog at work. Tonight, however, something entirely different I saw Mad Dog after work in Waterloo. We walked about here and there and played some pool in the Doggets pub. We've often done this in the past and it was weird to play a game of pool in a smoke-free environment. I was thrashed as usual, although Bob should have been disqualified for outrageous gamesmanship in the last game. I made a fantastic break, dropping a ball into the pocket and teeing up se...

Thursday is the new Friday... ...when you are taking Friday off as a holiday that is. Was late for work, but got into the character of someone who has been conducting something mysterious, but supremely important. And on sitting down I conducted my vital junk mail business quickly and with ruthless efficiency and brilliance. In the evening I met Lakshmi, who is a pal of my friend Aimee . Lakshmi has moved from Dubai where she knew Aimee, after studying in Indiana in the US, and then back to Dubai, and now finds herself in London. She is a very nice person and we had a lot to chat about. She surprised me by saying that PG Wodehouse was her favourite author. Not the obvious choice for a woman in her twenties brought up in Dubai. Almost as soon as I met her I could see how her and Aimee fit together, both being chatty, spirited, and good fun. We met in Ye Olde Cheshire Cheese which is one of my favourite haunts with Mad Dog. It was rather full, but, fine, then we went to the Punch across ...