Category Archives: Travel

London Journal – Day 11 – Carnaby Street Kiss-Off

It is almost 11:00 on Friday night and I am settling back into my chair after a rolicking good night at theatre. What chair? you might ask. I said I would post a photo of my “workstation” so here it is:

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That’s my notebook on the stool, with my bluetooth keyboard balanced on top, and my mouse setting on the coffee table down to the left. Needless to say this is “sub-optimal” as we say in the business.

Much happened today. First off, it was a gorgeous day! It was already 10° when I woke up and 12 or 13 by the time I went out. Quite cheery it was. After my breakfast and coffee I once again took the tube down to Leicester Square where I scored a front row seat for “The Lover/The Collection,” a pair of Harold Pinter teleplays from the 1960’s. They were fantastic, as were the company who put them on. Brilliant performances all of them.

After Tkts, I strolled up to Soho and Carnaby Street. Any of that gritty charm it had in the 60’s, as shown in Antoniono’s classic film “Blow Up” are gone now. It is just another tourist trap cum overpriced market. Soho is a schizophrenic district to be sure. It is the centre of fashion and design, but also of sex clubs and seedy shops. It was the trendy spot for kids, but a generation ago, and so now an out of date version of that.

A recent headline in the tabloids proclaimed that a recent survey has shown that the East End is the new West End, and the West End is the new snooze-ville. The West End is only for tourists and your parents, the East End is where it’s happening, and if you don’t know that you’re dead. Well, I can say that if Carnaby Street is your gauge, then they’re right. Here is how Carnaby Street looked to an Italian fashion photog in 1967:

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Here is what it looks like today:

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Oh, and for the record, the mini is back:

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So is the kiss, which is what brought me here. The “Carnaby Kiss” to be specific, at the Carnaby Gallery

There are about 40 images and I must say I liked at least half of them. My favourite was “Handbag.” It is left as an exercise for the reader to figure out what that looks like.

The other fashion trend which is inescapable here, and I commented on previously, is short shorts with stockings and with cuffs. Cuffs. Think about that… really short shorts with cuffs. Strange, and in February.

Found some interesting shop windows at Liberty of London and fancied myself a little photog myself. Here are a few shots:

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Out of Soho and into Oxford Street. Got this interesting image off Hanover Square. I am not sure what it’s on about, but here it is:

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Must be drugs I figure.

Then it was back uptown, I walked through Marylebone and across to Bloomsbury. Got some lunch at an Indian buffet, then to Regent’s Park where I got one with nature.

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Anyway, that was my day. How was yours?

Just so that I am not talking to myself too much, I would like to remind my readers that you can comment on any story by simply clicking on the “Comments” link right down there \/

London Journal – Day 11 – Get Lost

I got lost for the first time tonight. I don’t count trying to find Hamiltons Gallery as being lost, because I had never looked up the address. Tonight, though, I got off the tube at Oxford Circus Station instead Piccadilly.  It was evening rush and I was on my way to theatre and I simply miscounted stops. By the time I realised it was too late to get back on — I was already in the street. Anyhow, in my hubris I thought I knew the way, but Soho in the dark is not a trifle! I did find my way, but it took away the time I had budgeted for grabbing a bite from a street vendor. Oh well, lesson learnt.

London Journal – Day 11 – Get Grapes Or Get Fame

One thing I have been regular about is listening to a late night radio show on Radio London (94.9 FM) with Tessa Dunlop. This is because that is what’s on while I type these blog entries. Anyhow, tonight I was doing just that and they talked with the director of an organisation which goes into prisons and recruits inmates to perform in theatre works. They do everything from acting to sound and lights.

The company, Only Connect UK, are about to produce their first show outside of the walls of a prison, The Grapes Of Wrath next week, in Kings Cross. Well, along for the interview with Ellen were Anthea McKenna and Josef Wilkinson, recent “guests of Her Majesty at HMP Wormwood Scrubs and HMP Holloway.” Tickets are for sale on their website, for shows next week. Right, I think, I’ll sign up.

Oops, doesn’t work. Website problems. I decide to write a quick note to the radio show to let them know. I include a comment on the death penalty, which is one of their topics du jour, following a couple of scandalous murder cases in recent weeks. Five minutes later they are reading my note on the air. That’s responsiveness for you!

Here is the note I sent:

Tessa, I love your show and am eager to buy tickets for Grapes, but the website is not working. Please let the good folk at Only Connect know that we are trying to support them, but their vendor are stopping us.

Cheers, and keep it up!
-nic

PS – As an American I can tell you that capital punishment is not all its cracked up to be. All people on death row have had their sentences delayed while we try to figure out how to humanely kill people. Something tells me this is a losing proposition. Lock people up and throw away the key, fine with me, but do not kill, not in my name!

That’s what I say and I’m sticking to it.

Ta!

Update: After my letter was read they launched into a discussion the crux of which was that my “Throw away the key” argument was fatuous since it cost so much, £40,000 per year, per inmate, to lock someone up. Well, that is a tired old lament, and no argument at all for execution. So, I wrote back:

To: tessa.dunlop@bbc.co.uk
Subject: More death penalty prattle

Thanks, Tessa, for reading my letter. I must object, however, with your
response; that lock them up sounds fine until you have to pay for it.
Again, look to the experience of the US. Many jurisdictions have
stopped the death penalty for economic reasons, as the costs of the
mandatory appeals run to the millions of dollars per case. Even if it
cost £40,000/year to house these miscreants, that is still cheaper than
£1m to pay for the appeals and then maybe still keep them alive.

Well, interestingly enough that caught her attention. “He’s got a point. There really is no easy answer to this conundrum is there…”

London Journal – Day 12 – Quiet Time

I have decided that I have earned some quiet time. I have spent so much time out and about, and my feet have had a workout. I am going to stay in most of the day.

I did pop out for breakfast over the Daily Telegraph this AM over at La Fromagerie. Nice latté and croissant, followed by an assortment of cheeses selected for breakfast. It was pricey, but well worth it.

It has gotten up to 12° today, which is about as warm as it will get. I will probably go out onto the patio to do some writing.

Ta!

London Journal – Day 12 – A Close Up View From Abroad

I have been meaning for some time to write a bit about the political and social tides which are currently roiling the UK. I finally made time to do so.

Ever since I got here I have been hearing and reading about the impact of immigration on the country. Now as someone who’s here precisely to see if repatriation is the right move for me, this is a topic of great interest. First a little background.

The UK has very liberal immigration policies at the present time, especially for citizens of other European Union (EU) countries. In the EU, one country’s passport is pretty much as good as any other’s is. When I received my UK passport, the first thing I noticed is that it says “European Union” above “United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland” on the cover and the first page. With this passport I am a citizen of pretty much the entire continent, and may travel, live and work fairly freely about it.

This may sound simple enough, but the economic integration of Europe, the “Eurozone” is incomplete. There are many countries being integrated, but they still have their own economic ups and downs, and different standards of living. The free and open borders created by the EU, and the freedom of movement integral to the “Four Freedoms” upon which it was formed, has allowed people from the poorer countries to migrate to and get jobs in the richer ones. Thus a massive influx of Polish workers have taken most of the entry level jobs in the service industry.

This has lead to some bridling by traditionalists. Recently there was a row when it was proposed that Chinese, Indian and other ethnic restaurants be required to actually have some members of those ethnicities on their kitchen staff; so many are the Poles.

The complaints are not just nationalistic, though. Culture plays a large role as well. There have been a huge immigration, too, of illegals from Muslim countries such as Jordan, Algeria, Palestine. Many of these recent immigrants have not integrated into the British society, but have constituted their own insular communities alongside that of the majority. The same has been true for years in portions of the Indian, Bangladeshi, Pakistani and other former commonwealth populations.

A recent Vanity Fair article outlined the effect of this insular world upon one man and the struggle he is now locked in with the state over allegations (as yet unsupported) of terrorism.

These struggles are not unique to the UK – most European countries, especially in the north of the continent, The Netherlands, Germany, France, Belgium, have had to contend with similar problems. The failure to integrate, is achingly troubling to these liberal, open, socially supportive nations. What is different about the UK, however, is that as the colonial power over the former commonwealth, and with the national sense of commitment to the citizens of that commonwealth, it does face unique struggles.

This was reflected in the conversation I had last Saturday, the 16th, with a shopkeep in Church Street. She admonished me to stay in America and not think of repatriation. “Immigration is ruining this country!” she exclaimed. “I am not racist, it is an economic issue. The dole is too generous. A family on the dole gets £100 per child*, so a Bangladeshi woman has five kids, that’s £500! She can just have another if they need some more. What am I supposed to do? My taxes are paying that. I can’t have any more kids, I’m not getting anything for free.” and on.

That was on Saturday. Interestingly enough, just a few days later, on Tuesday, 19th Feb., PM Gordon Brown announced “As people are ever more mobile, it also becomes ever more important to develop a new approach to managed migration…I stand for a British way of life where we, the people, are protected from crime but in return we obey the law.” New immigrants are “actively entering into a contract through which, by virtue of responsibilities accepted, the right of citizenship is earned.”

“We will introduce a new English language requirement for those applying for a marriage visa and planning to settle in the UK – both as part of our determination that everyone who comes here to live should be able to speak English and to make sure they cannot be exploited” said his home secretary, Jacqui Smith. “This is a country of liberty and tolerance, opportunity and diversity, and these values are reinforced by the expectation that all who live here should learn our language, play by the rules, obey the law and contribute to the community.”

“Foreigners will also have to demonstrate fluency in English and knowledge of the British way of life. After five years in the country, they will have to choose to apply to become a citizen or a permanent resident. Those refusing to take either option will be ordered to leave,” according to press reports.

Well, I am here at the cusp aren’t I.

All around me in the paper, on the wireless and in the streets a drama is playing out in the life of a country struggling to cope with the essence of what it means to be a country. This is the tenor of debate on the topic, and the tension is palpable. People complain openly that the neighbourhood pub now serves Thai cuisine instead of bangers and pies (okay, no English food jokes here). There is open distrust on the streets, especially in places like Finsbury Park, home of the controversial Mosque where many recent terrorists and terrorism suspects, such as Richard Reid and Zacarias Moussaoui, the shoe bomber and the “20th” 9/11 hijacker, have studied and where Imam Adu Hamza gave fiery hate filled sermons.

There are calls afoot to review the nation’s much vaunted approach to a multicultural society. Deborah Orr, whom I quoted in a recent posting, makes reference to this in another column here .

I do not know where this will lead, but it is hot right now, and there is no election or other event looming in the near future to force the issues. It will be interesting to see where things go.

Ta!

*I am not clear if this is per month or per week. In England many rates are commonly posted and calculated per week.

Note: As I sit writing this, sitting on the patio, I have been listening to the family who lives in the home above me having tea.  The window to their kitchen is open, and I hear the sounds of dining and their easy conversation.  I understand very little of it as they easily slip between French and Arabic.  Not much in English.  I would venture a guess that they are Algerian, but that is only a guess.

London Journal – Day 12 – A Hard Night’s Day

After the theatre (more on that later) I went down to Windsor Palace for a spot.  The 6 Nation’s match was on, England vs France.  You can only imagine what this meant for pubs across the great country who had the foresight to invest in HDTV!

In the Windsor Palace I found a plush leather seat in the corner with no view whatsoever of the telly.  It isn’t that I didn’t want to watch, I gladly would have.  My father played rugby, and I can figure it out within a minute or two of watching, generally.

Suddenly, after much cheering, the crowd dissipated, and I got a seat at the bar.  I captured the night’s scores in the margins of my Telegraph: England 24 – France 13.  Wales 40 – Italy 8, Ireland 34 – Scotland 13.  So, other than Scotland’s ignominious defeat, Great Britain had a damn good day.  This was not lost on the 16 year old French bartendress at the Windsor Palace.  She cursed under her breath and kept slinging ale at the sotted masses.

London Journal – Day 13 – Sunday In The Park With Pawn

This morning took me to Hyde Park for a nice long stroll and a visit to the Serpentine Gallery for a new showing of works by and inspired by Derek Jarman. Quite good, all round. It was a beautiful day out, and loads of people were clambering all over the park capturing the warmth and sunshine as best they could while it was here.

I then took a bus to Angel and found myself a nice pub to have Sunday Roast in. Inspired though I was by the smell of the beef, I went for the salmon. Delightful! The fixings were good, best beets I’ve had in ages, parsnips, yum yum. And some Yorkshire pudding to sop up the sauce. Mmm.

Home again to set up a new photo gallery. I have been spending an inordinate amount of time preparing photos to adorn this site, which is silly as there is plenty of software to do it for me. So, I installed a new gallery, CLICK HERE I have uploaded all of my London photos there, a couple hundred by now I figure. You can check that any time to see what all I’ve seen. I will still include good ones here.

Ta!

London Journal – Day 13 – La Dolce Vita


There are so many newspapers to chose from here, and the competition is fierce. One way they grab you is to include free promotional items in with the issue. Last weekend one of the papers (I forget which) included a learning Spanish CD one day and a phrase book the next. This went along with a week long travel series about Madrid and Balboa.

Today brought us films, as it is Oscar night (since it’s 10:00 pm here I could tell you who won what, but I won’t). The choices I faced at the newsagent were “My Left Foot” and “La Dolce Vita” You can guess which one I picked. That means I read The Observer today.

I have had no telly or film since I got here, almost two weeks, aside from some football in the pub. To watch a film will be a treat.

London Journal – Day 13 – So Sped The Plow

I went to see Mamet’s Speed The Plow at The Old Vic last night and I wanted to just give some quick thoughts about it.

The play stars Kevin Spacey, the Old Vic artistic director, and Jeff Goldblum, along with Laura Michelle Kelly. Spacey is magnetic and riveting (dangerous combination, those magnetic rivets…). Kelly was genuine and engaging. Goldblum was dry and enigmatic. I could never quite figure out if he was flat or was it his character.

It is tempting to think that Spacey trolls Hollywood looking for actors with time on their hands against whom he can look strong. If that is the case he found his man in Goldblum. I am a real fan of Goldblum, have been since the early days of Earth Girls Are Easy and the like. In this, however, he just never raises the temperature on stage above tepid, while Spacey can take two steps on stage and sparks fly. In the penultimate scene, when things get rough, I found myself hoping that maybe Spacey would wake Jeff up, but not so much.

I don’t want this to sound like the show is a dud. It is not. Even with Goldblum’s flat performance the script, in all of its realism and intricacy, shines through. That, along with the red-letter performances by Spacey and Kelly, and the capable acting of Goldblum (despite his lack of colour or depth) makes for a brilliant night out.