under another sun

Woke up very early, and watched the pink dawn through my window. Decided on an appropriately lazy Sunday. Went with the family to Moulin Huet Pottery again, where Toby and Romy bought a bean jar, and I bought a pale green mug and a thing for keeping garlic in. Quickly walked down to the top of Moulin Huet before going for lunch at La Bella Luce. Feeling very tired today for some reason. Sloped off towards my hotel taking a few photos en route, and then slept for a couple of hours, finished a poem for the first time in months, and did some more meditation. We collected Betty Tostevin, and old friend of the family tonight for roast beef in the Les Douvres. Below... Pink dawn; a view of Moulin Huet; Mum and Toby and Romy; leaf shadows on the lane.

Everyone into town this morning. Mooching about and talk of spending sprees but nobody bought anything much. After a quick lunch served by a cheerful Latvian waitress. There are loads of Latvians in Guernsey at the moment for some reason. Toby, Romy and me decided to go for a walk. Walked from St Peter Port to Jerbourg along the cliff path. Quite a pleasantly cool overcast day, with some light rain. Lovely walk, but when I got to Jerbourg I got really out of breath and slightly vertiginous again walking straight up the cliff from sealevel in the rain. But then went to the Jerbourg hotel and enjoyed a cream tea, before setting off again down the back lanes until we reached the wishing well at the top of the waterlanes. Made a wish, but looking back it was a bit of a wishy-washy Buddhist-influenced wish. Romy made a wish too, but Toby didn't. The water was a bit rank it has to be said. We went down the waterlanes and back to the hotels. Home for a shower and another bob in the pool b

What could be nicer than kippers in the morning? Scarfed these then a quick scoot along the cliffs from Icart and then to the Barbarie to meet Mum and Mase. Today Mason was forced to do walking by Mum. We walked down towards Moulin Huet and popped into the Pottery place. I earmarked some things I would later buy as Mase fell into a deep conversation with the owner, as he used to work in ceramics when he was a teenager. Mum and I left him there still talking and walked down to Moulin Huet beach. It was high tide, and we paddled painfully on sharp rocks and stones for a bit. Lovely to be down there however. Back up the steep hill to find Mase in La Bella Luce who was drinking coffee and deep in conversation with one of the staff. Had two halves of shandy, then walked through the little lanes past my old school, and the Nazi bunker that stood in the playground when I was a nipper. At the Old Post I popped into Ogiers. The rather flirty ladies there told me the larger sizes were upstairs.

A cliff view with the dog and lion rocks; Moulin Huet again; window in St Martin's parish church.

Woke up having slept like a large baby, due to the deep quiet of this edge of the island at night. Sloped downstairs to consume a full English and coffee and returned to my room to be booted and out by 9.00am. A shining, fresh and bright morning. Walked to Icart Point again, alongside the field full of rabbits and magpies. Called First Matie with an aural postcard (her and Gav having stayed here on holiday recently). Having walked these cliffs on and off all my life I was a bit surprised to be gripped by a paralyzing surge of vertigo after walking on the path for a few minutes. Took me a while to get a grip and walk back to the headland. Once in a blue moon I am ambushed by a sort of agoraphobia but usually when I am really stressed. This dates back to when I was four or five, when I was living in Guernsey. I went through a patch convinced I was going to fall up into the sky and so had to walk about holding onto the hedgerows. Anway, I walked inland for a while, but later in the after

Two views of La Gran'mère du Cimétière outside St Martin's Parish church

After a very few hours of sleep woke up early and was surprisingly organised. Got to Gatwick in good time. The hop over fortunately very brief although I did have the obligatory bout of existential horror for a couple of moments. Nice taxi driver to the Saints Bay Hotel, talking about what it is like to return to the island. He worked at sea for years and had his own rituals for returning. I checked in quickly at about 1:45pm and soon had my boots on, then marched up to Icart Point to begin a big walk. Very still hazy weather, and all afternoon there was the rumble of distant thunder that never reached the island. Despite being in the place I love the most, I found myself in a violently bad mood. Not quite sure why. Perhaps triggered by yesterday's tomfoolery at work. But I think it suddenly hit me how incredibly stressed I'd been feeling for months on end. If meditation is about bringing the mind home, there is something doubly powerful about bringing yourself home physically

For some reason, the Gods conspired to give me a wretched day at work. I slogged for ten hours without break on copy, pausing only to be part of a half hour argument/meeting that made me so angry I could hardly speak. Stupidly I have pointed to an elephant in the room, that a big communication stream we've created is simply wrong in strategy, tone and content, which didn't make me very popular. The thought that I will be in Guernsey tomorrow sustained me. Evening not quite as planned. Plan A was to have a copy shop reunion on wheels, i.e. having a drink on the Brighton train with the copy shop. But both Reuben and Kate had to cancel. But all was well, after stomping late out of work I met Matty and American Craig and Matt and his friend Sophie outside the Blue Anchor for a few glasses of Magners cider over ice and at some point I stopped wanting to murder everyone, which was nice. Matty is a magnet for silly jokes that I love. What's this? he asked me, twisting his wrist an

Chilled Sunday. Anna, Anton and the bairns called around and we went to the Sunday market by Brighton Station. Lots of tatty stuff, but plenty of interesting bric a brac, and odd objects too. I ended up buying a record for 50p and some sandalwood beads from the stall of a Tibetan Buddhist. Very nice guy. Turns out Sogyal Rinpoche was known to him and a friend of his family. After this we all went off to Bills for breakfast. Read papers and drank coffee and excellent fruit juices and salmon and scrambled eggs. Klaudia making me laugh by picking decorations from a fairy cake, licking each individually, and pulling a disgusted face. After this I spent a happy day pottering at home. Slipping out to order a new leaf green rug for my bedroom and looked at some furniture made from driftwood but couldn't work out where to put it in my house. Also started packing for my trip to Guernsey, which I am looking forward to immensely. Confession time: spoke to Mum today and told her about the choc

Anton said that Baby Klauds wanted to go to the Farnborough International Airshow today, so Anton, Brian, Baby Klauds and me went today. Klaudia, Anton said, was particularly interested to see the new Airbus A 380. A drive of about an hour and a half, listening to a CD of nursery rhymes and children's songs. By the end of the journey The wheels on the bus go round and round, round and round, round and round etc. had become a firm favourite. Arriving at Farnborough the sky was a dark grey and occasionally flecked with lightning. We walked from the carpark as the red arrows started their display. A short bus hop to the airfield and the rain began, and it continued to rain heavily for the rest of the time we were there. Nicely, a woman in the ticket booth lent Anton a pink brolly. As we lurked about the place we bumped into Mick Ginty, a friend I'd not seen for years, who was there with his dad. There were planes flying around against the thundery grey sky including the A380. The

Working from home today so no sweaty schlepp up to London. It allowed me to focus on the breast cancer writing, which I did for most of the day. Slipped out at lunch to buy a can of paint and worked till five. Then at five, after a brief chat with Steve my next door neighbour I walked straight down to the sea and jumped into it. After days of sweltering heat the water was warm (for the Channel) and I could have happily stayed in for longer, but I kept eyeing the sea advancing towards my clothes and had to come back in after a quarter of an hour or so. Heaving myself out I dried off in the sun watching people on the beach and in the water, and listening to the band playing nearby. A nice end to the working week. Then off up the road to see Anton who had just returned from New York, Anna and Brian. We sat in their garden all night eating obscene amounts of Chinese food. Watched the recording of Anna and Baby Klauds talking about baby signing on TV. Anna very relaxed and normal seeming wh

Into work early wearing a crisp white shirt. The heatwave continues. I have been writing material for women who have breast cancer most of the week and although this is interesting it is something of a slogging copy job, and quite saddening subject matter. Instead of a swim this lunchtime, I slid off for lunch at the riverside with Liz. Over some nice fishcakes we discussed creative writing. She is very keen to get going and have some advice. I have set her the exercise of describing the same event five times, using the different senses. I gave her the homework of reading Perfume by Patrick Suskind, a book which forefronts a sense (the olfactory) more than any other I can think of. Back to work and one of my bosses told me to work at home tomorrow as I have thousands of words of copy to edit and write. Had a chat with the Chairman and we got to talking about meditation. He said when he was doing martial arts, which he did to a formidable standard, he was taught to envisage a still moun

Thanks to global warming the hottest July day ever in England today. It was bloody hot, and didn't feel like England at all. Lurked in at work today, keeping a low profile, scuttling out only to go for a long swim in the middle of the afternoon having broken off from writing about breast cancer. Discovered that we did not win the car pitch I worked on lately. Apparently the strategy and creative was wonderful, but they couldn't agree on how much we wanted to be paid. Some of us a bit cheesed off at this, especially me as I wanted to be able to brag about winning a car pitch and never having driven a car. Lurked at work late this evening. I played table tennis for a bit and ended up having a few drinks in the cool with the FB and Liz and several others. The FB passionate about the situation in Lebanon. But I've yet to meet anyone who doesn't think that Israel's response isn't entirely disproportionate. First Matie phoned me from the Mulberry Bush in the South Ba

In good cheer as I walked through Hammersmith Graveyard to work, noticed some plots have been planted with red pelargoniums which really blaze out beautifully. Had a laugh at work most of the day, and contrived to slip away for a 40 minute mid-morning swim to beat the crowds that are increasingly driven to the pool by the heat at lunchtime. I am so lucky that my job can be flexible enough for me to just do that. Worked through lunch but broke off to play some table tennis. There is a fiercely competitive league in the creative department and to my amazement I managed to beat the current champion. The last time I played table tennis was with Toby and he used to explode with rage if I won and there is a Toby-type personality in the league who smashed his bat the other day after losing. Slipped away early and walked up the river to the Dove to meet Sarah. The heat made it feel like we were in somewhere like Greece. Had a lively evening of enjoyable argument with her while forking down ano

Hot day today in London. Quiet this morning, and had a nice swim at lunch for 40 minutes. In the afternoon I travelled into central London to present ideas for a childhood cancer job to a room full of earnest young women from a cancer charity. The ideas went down well fortunately. Cheerfully left the meeting at 5.00pm and decided to walk across central London to Victoria. It took me an hour but was preferable to squeezing myself into the sweltering tube trains. Imagined myself to be a sightseer. In fact seeing London in a heatwave is a bit like seeing a completely different town. The parks full of people sitting in the shade of trees in the early evening. Walked down Old Bond Street and its shops full of impossibly expensive clothes and jewellery, and paused in a doorway to feel the cool blast of A/C. On the way to Victoria Station I passed Buckingham Palace too. Became taken by the scale of the statue of Queen Victoria dwarfing her visitors. On the train back to Brighton listened to a

So much for a good night's sleep. Four youths chose the twitten to start copying a new rap at 1.00 am which one of them was playing on his phone. At one point they were all rapping at the top of their voices. My next door neighbour ended up asking them to stop because of his babies. They did, which I guess was nice. Would have all been quite funny if it hadn't been so bloody LATE. Walking around town for two hours this morning. Boiling hot. Lurked in bookshops and looked at chairs and unsuccessfully sought a tin of exterior paint. Bought nothing. Home and enjoyed listening to the first of an excellent two-part a dramatisation of the Name of the Rose on BBC radio. Later I decided to meditate with my special eyes-open Tibetan technique. After one minute was interrupted by my neighbour who had discovered a (probably stolen) spade in my garden. All these strange happenings don't make me feel very secure, and in some ways I am pleased Jack and Kate aren't here. Resumed medi

Another beautiful morning. The Channel looking an almost Mediterranean blue when I walked down towards the sea first thing to score a futon for my embryonic spare bedroom/study. I can pick it up in time for Toby and Romy to have something to sleep on when they stay. Light food shopping, which included seaweed for miso soup, and then home. Very introspective day but exactly what I wanted. A spot of sunbathing sitting reading the Guardian and then did jobs such as laundry, or waxing my floor. Then I struggled ineffectually with a poem. Research for the latter made me start reading about The Lighthouse of Alexandra one of the seven wonders of the world. I hadn't realised this was as high as a 40 story modern building. Also consulted the I Ching which gave me as usual some very sensible advice. Then listened to the demo CD the soul singer gave me on the train the other day, and it was good. His name is Jawahall. You read his name first here. Peaceful day apart from one interlude. I w

Beautiful day again. Bumped into an art director pal called Yuk I'd not seen for some time. He showed me a clip filmed on his phone of a mutual friend Jez dancing the first dance with his wife at his wedding. Amazing really just how blasé we all are about having all this technology in our pockets. Then into work and a last mad scramble of work till 3 o'clock, and then done at last. I went straight off for an enlivening swim before returning to the agency, which was in a very Fridayish mood. Sat chatting to Trace on the sofas but we slightly depressed each other talking about the failure of our last relationships. I then joined in the fiercely-competitive ping-pong frenzy which still grips the creative department and said farewell to the Gnome who is off to Spain. A bit of leaving do tonight, and so lots of people lurking about in the work bar and sitting outside in the sun. I decided to join them, and had a few drinks with Phil, and then mingled more generally and getting talki

Working in a bit of a frenzy again today, but on some fun things. Made a good joke in the Blog I an doing for the agency: Spreadsheets and figures give me a nosebleed. Absolutely no idea about maths and stuff. I think it was something to do with a childhood dream about being chased by the number 20.588888888888... It was a recurring nightmare. Anyway... you've got to make your own amusement these days. Seemed to be infected by a rash of poor jokes today. Discussing with a new client about his logo which is of flying seagulls and asked how they came up with it. He said they just asked a designer down the road: and birds was the result. So, I asked, the birds were going cheap then? I was told to leave the meeting at that point, but I remained. After work off into Soho with Phil. A quick drink beforehand outside the Crown and Two Chairmen, the people spilling out into the street, and Soho so thronging and lively that it reminded me forcibly that London is a great city to be in. Then o

Early into work and a bit of preparation for the pitch. Brief chat with Trace about her week away meditating in a Greek island, then off in a rented car with the French Bloke, Rick and Hazel. Hadn't seen the FB for a while as he had been on holiday in France. Much general snickering in the car, arriving early and sitting in the car park. Then we presented to three women with dull cod-like faces for a couple of hours, and then set off again. Our presentation made all through lunch and we were offered nothing at all to eat which is just rude. We diverted to the Bridge after the drive home where I was last Friday night. Copied the young brainiac Hazel and was rewarded with a nice tuna burger and sweet potato chips. Then back to the agency to take two new briefs. Glanced at the transcript of a telephone interview I had done recently. I don't seem to speak in anything resembling sentences. Left late and tired, after having had a beer in the bar, which only intensified another dratte

Getting ready for the pitch tomorrow. Managed to sneak off for a swim, however, which was 40 minutes of pleasantness. Back to work, and then a pitch rehearsal, and got home at 10:00pm. I had to cancel my evening out with Caroline and James. At least I am doing the wretched thing tomorrow. Then I have to hurry back to the agency to accept a new brief with another mad deadline. I need a break. Caught up with Alice for a bit. She showed me pictures of her baby girl who is very cute. Also spoke to Anton who is considering buying a hi-tech walking stick. After the train slid over the Thames I looked east and saw the big Canary Warf Tower reflecting the fire of the setting sun. It sparked off a fleeting 15 minutes of tranquility and cheerful stillness. Then I listened to my iPod a download of a Radio 4 programme about pastoral poetry. Eating cherries after standing in my tiny yard, which smells of jasmine and freesia. I need to be able to actually spend some time in it. But now I must go to

Troubled by a series of dreams in which I calmly awaited my imminent death. After this motif had been repeated several times I woke up and discovered it was only 2:45. Feeling a bit disturbed, I got up and had a glass of water and began to read one of the appendixes of the Tibetan Book of Living and Dying and about how an admirable Buddhist dies with lots of meditation etc. Eventually I decided to risk falling asleep again, and more attentive readers will have already noted that I survived. The morning found me wanting to stick needles into my eyes rather than schlepp off to London. But the next pitch is on Wednesday and I am presenting the creative work, so it was a reasonably good idea for me to be there. Didn't swim again though. Meanwhile The Gnome fell asleep while I was talking to him today. Twice. Home shortly after 8:00pm and pottered about deadheading roses and cutting back the fuchsia which had prevented my gate from closing. And as I did so I could hear church bells as

Enjoyable day of doing almost nothing. Largely as a consequence of two lively nights out on the trot. A smidge of shopping, a spot of thinking about shelves and of course the world cup final between France and Italy. This I watched with Anton while sampling some of his admirable home made pizza. Terrible Shakespearean business tonight of Zidane, the inspirational French captain being sent off for headbutting one of his opponents in a moment of madness. His intention was to retire from Football after the final, but instead arguably the best player of his generation leaves in disgrace, and France are beaten. No more world cup for four years. What did men talk to each other about before the world cup? Sarah sent me a football link today from Monty Python which made me laugh. Sunday pre-work gloom descending, so an early night beckons...

Up this morning feeling slightly jaded to meet Anton and a new friend of his called Martin in the station. I began to feel better after gulping lots of water. We got the train to Haywards Heath and then a cab to the pub where Anton and I had left off on our Ouse way walk a couple of months ago. Today the conditions were ideal, and we had a wonderful five hour walk under a spitfire sky; blue with big puffy clouds. Martin was a nice bloke and also proved useful. He was, for example, skilled in dog management, dealing decisively with approaching hounds. He also claimed to be a mosquito decoy too, which was vindicated shortly after when he was bitten painfully by a horsefly. The most beautiful view on the Brighton to London track is when the train goes over a viaduct which spans the Ouse Valley. The walk took us through this lovely valley and under the imposing brick structure, with 37 arches. It was completed in 1841, and made from 11 million bricks imported from Holland. Ended up hours l

Underneath the viaduct. Martin. Anton with a pack of dogs behind him, and the penny coloured trickle of the Ouse.

The anniversary of the bombings. The tube was fairly empty this morning. I don't think there was anyone in London who didn't think of the 52 people who were murdered a year ago as they went to work. Friday thank God. During the middle of the day it became clear that me and The Gnome wouldn't have to work through the weekend on our incontinence pitch, which would naturally have badly peed us off. Still, we did spend time discussing what people would think if they spotted two middle aged blokes running at high speed through the agency's revolving door while screaming. Again no time for swims or lunch today. But I was sustained by the idea that suddenly it was a real Friday and a Friday in which I would go out with Matty boy and T and First Matie for a drink. And during the day cold beers kaleidoscoped in my mind like something in Homer Simpson's brain. An excellent evening out. We all met up outside the Blue Anchor and we sat by the river, where the four of us were br

I declare today to be Samuel Beckett theme day: in which there is nothing to be said. Travelled to work. Worked all day without a break. Travelled home. "Nothing," as the crinkly faced Irish wonder said, "is more real than nothing." For no reason, a picture of the inside of a London Piccadilly tube train tonight. This one quite empty as it was later than the rush hour.

Heavy rain and distant thunder in Brighton at 6am this morning. Turns out that the lightening had struck something to do with the railway, and resulted in a snailing 2 hours 40 mins journey into work. Funny how bad journeys come in spates. Must be Mercury going retrograde or something astrological. Just checked... Mercury went retrograde yesterday. Just call me Gypsy Rose Kenny. Eventually into work and some dullard had cloned yesterday: The Gnome & me working on the incontinence pitch: a swim at lunchtime and a tetchy mood. Homeward got on the same Piccadilly line train and everything was fine. Spoke to Anton who was wondering if he should download Paradise Lost to listen to as an Audio Book. And Di who called this evening which was a nice surprise, she is doing okay during her on-going separation. Started a book called Nadja by Andre Breton, which is "a frankly autobiographical book", and the "quintessential Surrealist romance" according to the blurb. Looks q

Emotional this morning on the train. Brooding about how MJ and me were engaged a year ago on Thursday, and this time last year she and the kids were over with me in Brighton. I still don't understand how something begun with such love could have ended so badly. Anyway. Work not too bad. Locked myself away with The Gnome working on concepts for our incontinence product. Went for a swim, had a quick chat with Max and then melted away from work as fast as humanly possible. Thinking about my engagement also makes me think about the tube bombs in London which happened the day after. Coming home, I had one of my personal worst-case scenarios on the tube. Was in one of the smaller Piccadilly tubes and it got stuck in a tunnel as the preceding train had a fault. Absolutely airless, as it was the hottest day in London today. I was wearing shorts and sweat was streaming from my legs in the carriage. The paper said that due to 50% humidity on the tubes the temperature feels like 105 degrees i

Another strange night. Dreams that seemed extremely important about getting messages from dead people. I'd meditated before I went to bed, and I wonder if that had anything to do with it. The heatwave continues. Wore shorts and a teeshirt into work. I had a moment this morning just as I was set to walk into the station of looking back down the road to the sea and feeling a tremendous loathing for the idea of going up to London. However, I have had a good Seagull-based idea for a longer prose project and started to scribble bits down on the train. Work not too bad. People despondently discussing footie. However, Alice saying that she'd talked to Mark and was coming down next weekend to Brighton with baby Mya and her husband Mike. The Tubes were packed and very hot. Apparently temperatures in the deeper tunnels reached 105 f, during the day which is not good. Went for a swim, and later interviewed someone who had cancer in her family for a charity piece I am working on. Watching

Lazy Sunday in a heatwave. Late gorging of curry and gin and tonic meant that I was wide awake in the hot night from about 3:00am. Got up early and the bunk bed guy came and I helped him load the bits into his big car. Pottered about hoovering and dusting and stuff till mid day when a friend from work Mark turned up, having picked up a new motorbike nearby. We went for a walk along the seafront. Really very busy, and crowded with baskers in the sun. Mark a nice guy, a writer too, and refreshingly thoughtful. Discussed the football for a while, deciding I think that it was a bad thing. Ended up going to a pub and drinking a pint of shandy and eating a roast beef Sunday lunch, which was a bit mad for a such a hot day, but tasted really nice. The veggies, beef and roast potatoes were served inside a circular Yorkshire pudding. Mark very easy company, he'd lived in Brighton when he was a student, and liked my place. When he zoomed off to London on his new motorbike I had a very laid ba

Up early and set about unbuilding the bunk beds ready for collection tomorrow. Much easier than assembling them was a year ago. Having done this, I went down to the seafront to see Barney and Robbie, work colleagues who were setting off to do a sponsored cycle ride for a children's charity. Robbie particularly impressed me by his "preparations" i .e. a massive hangover. I gave him the big bottle of water I had just bought as it was a blazing hot day, and he was totally dehydrated. I walked about for a couple of hours, nosing in the Futon shop as I will need something to use as a spare bed now that the bunk beds are no more. Got a haircut too. Not too bad actually, although it was a large bald bloke who did it. The afternoon given over to England's world cup quarter final against Portugal. I popped into the Eddie, one of the pubs very close to me, to sample the atmosphere just before going up to watch it with Anton on his big flatscreen TV with his pal Rick. The Eddie,

There's something about a Friday which makes it easy to be well-disposed to the world. Beautiful sunny day, reading the newspaper on the train and revelling in the idea that I had a whole weekend to regroup. Was thanked for the slogging I had done recently and after finishing a few bits off, was briefed on another pitch. This one is for an incontinence product. I had all the motivation of a planarian worm. I was able to respond to light however, so I slipped off to get an eye test. My eyes have been a bit rubbish lately and wanted to make sure all was healthy. Very thorough test, especially after eye pressure was on the high end of normal, which means tests every year in case I develop glaucoma. Very nice young Indian woman eye person. She asked me if I drived, and I said that embarrassingly I didn't. "I suppose," she said without a shred of malice, "that is a bit unusual for people in the older generation". Ouch. Anyhoo... Doddered about choosing some new