Happy; Busy

I went to Budapest on the weekend, to unplug and catch up with Audrey and Josie. We chilled, ate, drank, swam, then did more of the same. There was also the small matter of the rugby world cup final, which we watched in Beckett's Irish Bar, alongside a big crowd of fellow kiwis, French, and assorted rugby enthusiasts.

Saw Bon Iver at the Hammersmith Apollo on Monday. I had sore feet but managed to transcend the pain. Lovely evening; and a good crowd too - could just about hear a pin drop.

Last night was the big event: The Phoenix Foundation performing live on Later with Jools Holland. I was lucky enough to attend the filming and it was a lot of fun. The other bands playing were The Waterboys, Professor Green, Ryan Adams, Camille and Coldplay. All quite enjoyable and relatively diverse. And the boys played really well! I wanted to go out afterwards (and tick off another of London's private clubs) but alas I had a midnight skype meeting that I couldn't miss, preceding as it did a big launch this morning.
Tonight's entertainment was a book club meeting. This month we read Sarah's Key by Tatiana de Rosnay. It was quite moving, although we all agreed that the now-part of the story was a bit lacking.

So it's Wednesday, and I've already have about a fortnight's worth of living inside of four days, and I'm so happy because my flatmate goes away tomorrow for a week so Matty is moving in, and The Phoenix Foundation are playing tomorrow night and Lisa is coming with me, and I'm starting to get my shit together for my aforementioned New Project, and this Saturday I get to see Noel Gallagher live.

A dilemma

Mild dilemma faces me this evening. I've been invited to a friend's wedding reception, where I expect to know only the bride and possible one other person slightly. My invitation was for me and a guest, however my guest can't make it and it seems too short a notice period to enlist another.

Getting to the venue will be a half hour train followed by a cab for a few miles. I've been unwell this week which has lead me to cancel the three nights' previous engagements, in a bid to regain health and also to ensure my ongoing vitality for tomorrow's planned trip to Glasgow, not to mention next week's Trip To New York.

I am leaning towards unfortunately missing my friend's nuptial celebration, however I'm unsure of the etiquette of the apology in such a situation. Do I draw attention to it ahead of the event itself, or explain myself after the fact?

From a Suit to a Fluorescent Jacket

On Saturday afternoon, I decided to pop out for a quick bicycle ride, relying on @londoncyclist's Bike Rides iphone app. I chose the route named "From a Suit to a Fluorescent Jacket", which takes in Canary Wharf, Greenwich, around the O2 and on to Woolwich and back again.

I figured it'd take about an hour, and I'd be home in good time to meet my friend Maria for dinner. An hour and a half later, as I lazed in the hot evening sun at Greenwich Park, I realised I was not going to be back in E8 for some time. All up I was out for about 3 and a half hours, including chill time. Click to see photos on flickr.

It was a gorgeous day, and it felt good to be exploring. I should mention this was partly intended as a training ride, as this bank holiday weekend I'm off to Normandy with some friends to cycle between Bayeux and Cherbourg. More on that later.

Winter in the Neighbourhood

We had a few days of snow last week. It culminated on Wednesday night after the Arcade Fire concert, flakes falling, fresh white powder underfoot, each street light reminiscent of the lamp-post. A day or two later, it was either dirty sludge or hard-packed ice, quite devoid of its original romance. This is an image of London Fields, situated close to my home.

Arcade Fire were great. It was my first time seeing them - not really sure how it's taken so long for that to happen - and the show was at the O2, not really the place for a first viewing. Still, it was magic to look around and see that enormous, sold-out venue filled with such ardent fans. Impossible to get very close to the stage, it was more about appreciating the crowd with a great soundtrack.

When they played We Used To Wait in the encore, I was transfixed. Have you seen the video (must be viewed in Chrome)? The finale was Wake Up, but it was hard for me to wake up from the headspace of the wilderness downtown. I love the subject matter Arcade Fire dwell on. It takes me back to those endless, empty days. Small town, big freedom.

Setlist, photos, and video on Songkick here.

I had the good fortune to catch Janelle Monáe at the Shepherd's Bush Empire on Sunday, and Tightrope hasn't really left my head since. Highly recommended.

Life Preservers, Dagger Canes, Swordsticks

I wanted to write something clever and apposite to go with this picture. However, I have places to go and people to see. The life in London continues.. work = great; fresh challenges with every day, home = fine; and I picked up my guitar yesterday for the first time in forever (although I could use a few nights in with time/energy to cook), friends = wonderful; what more to say?

The Black Keys were fantastic on Wednesday. Gigs coming up include Casiotone For The Painfully Alone, Marnie Stern, Arcade Fire and Bonobo. My mission next pay: buy a record player.

Grinderman

Loved the Grinderman show last night at Hammersmith Apollo. Nick Cave taps into such dark elements of the human psyche, not so much violence but some kind of blackness, giving compelling form to shadows of fear and lust and beauty and desire.

Feels like I hadn't been to a concert in ages, which added to the experience, as did attending with my lovely friends Ren, Matt, Riddi, Jamie and Gilbey.

I just wish Grinderman hadn't relied on EMI for their direct to consumer efforts for Grinderman 2. The emails look shit, they're too long, and their purchase links are all external retailers. It's a wasted opportunity - they should have used Topspin. They are streaming the album on myspace, which is nice.

Aside from that, the only negative to the evening was missing my connection at Whitechapel - took me an hour and half to get home from the station! I was between iphones last night, so it was a novel experience of having no GPS, maps or internet. Unusual, kind of fun in a small dose, like using a portaloo at a festival - hang on, that's never fun. Rest assured I am now safely connected to a shiny new iphone 4.

Morning

Lovely light this morning.

3 years + music

20 August is my 3 year anniversary here in London so permit me just a moment of reflection. I arrived without much of a clue what on earth I wanted from this place, and not entirely sure I wanted to be here at all. Fresh out of New Zealand, a Mediterranean summer like no other can do that to a person.

Today I find myself somewhere I never expected to be; chasing a big wave, sometimes riding it and sometimes my head seems only just above the water level. But there's always good sounds to be discovered. I'm listening to Van Morrison's Astral Weeks for the fifth time this week.. a world of music for the finding, and I love that an album from 1968 can scoop me up just like I can be carried away by the latest from The Arcade Fire.

Here's some great free music I've come across this week, coincidentally both from Iceland. The first is from Amiina:

And the second is from For A Minor Reflection:

You might remember, I'm a fan of lists and particularly the lists generated by last.fm. The contents and layout of this list struck a chord with me when I spotted it a day or two ago in that it almost alternates between 'old' and 'new' - my top artists from the last 7 days. I've been listening to BBC 6 Music a lot lately, but when I'm not..

Hello, London!

The return to London has been a little difficult, but I'm pleased to say that after a brief three-day depression, things have been on the up. My New Zealand holiday consisted months of hot weather, beautiful rural settings, and little to do besides drive my borrowed car from friends' house to friends' house, or down to the river to swim and throw sticks for my favourite dog. Contrasted with single digit temperatures, icy cold (admittedly everyone says I missed the worst, but that's relative surely), endless public transport, and a slightly aimless existence - it's hardly surprising that I might question my sanity! A zillion miles from my farmer poet, even if that sometimes seems like a good idea.



So where's the beautiful positive, as Pascalle West would say? Catching up with friends and family is top of the list, and sometime in the not too distant future, I'll hopefully add "rewarding new career direction" as a close second. I've got one or two projects on the go now, and while flat hunting isn't my idea of a positive experience, I certainly hope the outcome is.

Luckily there's always good music to be found. And here's a treat - for a limited time, download the first single from the Phoenix Foundation's forthcoming album Buffalo. Go here for the free download.

In Transit II

Once again I'm in transit in Hong Kong, and I'm in much better shape than last visit. I think it's around half 4 in the morning NZ time, and around eleven thirty local time, and physically I feel fine. Mentally, I have no idea how I feel... I do know that I had a brilliant time in New Zealand, loads of great experiences with great people and just one or two that I don't need to repeat ever again.

Because I'm a fledgling data geek, here's a look at where I spent my 90 days in Aotearoa:



Within those locations, I stayed at 26 different places. Thanks to the kindness of a then-stranger, turned-out-to-be-a-relative, I drove over 7000 km and was driven another 1000 or so. I went to three weddings and three music festivals. I drank 40 litres of sauvignon blanc and 175 Mac's Great Whites. The last sentence isn't true. I took a roller coaster ride with the farmer poet and developed a dog-crush on Taffy the coolest labrador ever (affectionately known as my perfect man in canine form).



And now I'm London-bound, to start a new job and find a new flat, and looking forward to jaunts to Iceland, Japan, and Spain in the next few months. Bring it on.

A few words

I feel muted. I miss the craft of writing. Is it really the tube that's to blame for a lack of space in the time of my life?

I found some old posts (including this picture of Kai Iwi beach, taken two years ago, two months before I left the country) and I no longer know where they came from. I want to know. It makes me miss home. Of course it does.

It was my birthday last week; I am fortunate. Today I walked and walked with my sister Megan. We circled amongst crowds at Borough Market, admiring and sampling fine fine foods. Across Tower Bridge we walked, then explored the Tower of London. I compared the portraits of Henry VIII in the Dressed to Kill exhibition with those of him in my head, and Jonathan Rhys Meyer. I'm one episode away from finishing season one of Michael Hirst's series. We walked some more, to Gordon's on Villiers St, where we drank fine wine and ate a lot of cheese.

This evening, we drank Banrock Station cabernet sauvignon and tried to watch Withnail & I, only the dvd was faulty. Thanks HMV sale..ah well. Five episodes of Spaced season one hit the spot. Always does!

I have listened to The Presets' Talk Like That three times in the last hour. Some other stuff too. Great track!

I procrastinate from sleeping. I don't know why. It is a recent development.

On how I come to be right here, right now

I've been in my job for 18 months now. I've learned a lot in that time. That means that I've been living in the capital of the world for 19 months. During that time, my impressions of this sprawling city have changed a great deal. Looking back now I'm not really sure what to make of the girl who arrived here on a chilly August morning in 2007. I was resolutely dressed in short shorts and singlet, with dirty hair and the best tan of my life, thanks to that unscheduled 7 week sojourn in Mediterranean Turkey. Cold rain met me at Stansted, and I was wrapped in a liberated Singapore airlines blanket, equal parts shock and denial. Different already to the me that left Auckland a few months previous. I caught the train to Tottenham Hale, then a cab to my sister's house. I took a shower, returned to the family room, and my nieces didn't equate this clean, warmly clothed stranger with the one they'd just greeted.

But that's not the story I want to tell. That's the old story, and I'm facing another direction now. As I negotiate the city these days, when it occurs to me, I'm usually filled with wonder and excitement at the vast unknowable nature of it. I go to the same places every day, but all around me, further than I can imagine, there's more that I won't ever see.

Sometimes I'm worried that this is my choice, because of the doors I'm closing. I'm not going to spend my youth partying on superyachts, or climbing mountains in India, or raising children in a New Zealand suburb. Instead I live in a comparatively remote north-western corner of London with a gang of kiwi friends, working in a comparatively remote south-western suburb in a job that combines music, contract law and creativity. I have always been fascinated with the concept of tying up intangibles with nothing but words; and I've been interested in music since I can remember. When I take the time to consider, I think, "I'm in the right place!"

Topical: the fair play for creators website documents creators' concerns over the perceived erosion of their right to royalties. I support it.

King's Cross

Waiting for the Metropolitan line.

Good weekend: there was Zorro, a fun pub crawl, new tv love for Mad Men, reading about NZ's history of state housing at 4am, lunch with my cousins, a visit with my nieces, and a brief cameo at Vesbar to see Jayson Norris.

graffiti

On Sunday, Evania, Rachel and I had a look at the tunnel on Leake St, beside Waterloo station. There is a feast of graffiti (surely the most difficult to spell word ever) adorning the tunnel, walls, floor and ceiling, and more to see that one visit allows. Huge, tiny, controversial, cute - if you live in London and you haven't yet, go see it. SE1 7NN.

calm in the chaos

Life has been so fast lately. I had three and a half days of training last week, not much opportunity for working towards my fast approaching deadlines. Makes for some false relief at close of business, Friday.

Thought I had it all under control on a most pleasant evening but no, I was as hungover as a hungover thing on Saturday as I dragged my sorry carcass around Clapham looking at potential new homes. Timing meant I spent a good hour sprawled in the Common, drooling onto myself and periodically crawling after the shifting shade.

Flat hunting in this city is like nothing I've ever experienced. For one who has trouble with the smallest of decisions, it poses quite the challenge. I'm about ready to give up for the time being and just kick on in my present home. It does the job.

Not much else happened for a while, unless you count the many hours spent contemplating my situation as I lay curled in bed. Then today around 2 or 3, Erica gave me a wonderful massage. One of those massages that are so good you keep thinking it's going to end, but it doesn't, not until most of the tension and knots are dissolved. After that it seemed like a possibility for me to put some clothes on and accompany Garry and Erica to Gladstone Park for some tennis.

I played tennis! I used to play when I was about ten, and as far as I can remember I wasn't too shabby either. Think I stopped a couple of years later, and was disappointed to pick up a racket when I was maybe 15 and barely know what to do with it. But I surprised myself today. My serving let me down but the backhand was better than I remembered, and my forehand was mean! Sometimes. Good fun, anyway.

We spent the evening watching the Mighty Boosh episodes on youtube. Now you know it all.

Snap

"Ah, here's one - hang on," I called to Ange as I ducked into a chemist at Gatwick airport. Time was running short before our boarding time, so I went directly to a lady in uniform and asked for eye drops. "Do you have Cleareyes? Eye drops for, um, allergies and that sort of thing?"

She lead me to shelves containing eye drops. I scanned them quickly, but couldn't see what I wanted. "Do you have anything for red eyes? Like, if you've got allergies and your eyes go red, and you want them to be clear?"

She gave it some thought, then walked behind the counter, producing a small box labelled Red Eye Drops. It wasn't Cleareyes, but it would do.

"Perfect," I announced, and handed over my debit card.
"Flight number?"
"Huh? Oh - I don't know."
"Where are you going?"
I paused. "... Amsterdam." Busted.

Every morning I spend at least an hour sitting on trains and buses. Towards the end of my journey, I emerge from the underground at Brixton station. This is an unexpected highlight of my morning, as time and again I mount the stairs and catch sight of the people handing out free Metro newspapers. That's when I remember - my favourite Metro man. He looks so lovely. He has long brown hair pulled into a pony tail, and he always looks happy and concerned with the wellbeing of those to whom he hands the paper each morning. I rarely catch his eye, but it makes me smile to see him there. I wonder what his story is?

As for my story, the red eye drops stayed in the box.

today we put our clocks back

Hey there, yes to those who've enquired, I'm still alive. It's been a while for a few reasons. I've been staying in the lounges of my sisters for ten weeks, and for the last three I've been offline. This afternoon I made the move from one end of the Victoria line to the other, to my home for the next four weeks. I'm subletting Lisa's room while she experiences Africa.

After two and a half months traveling, and two and a half months dossing, the thing I'm most anticipating is the opportunity to close a door between myself and the world. What a luxury.

I've been collecting book titles lately; I'm looking forward to reading the sequel to Ken Follett's Pillars of the Earth - World Without End, and also The Shadow of the Silk Road, by Colin Thubron. But what's occupying me at the moment is Gregory David Roberts' Shantaram. Many are the quiet tears I've shed while deeply engrossed on my 90 minute commute by bus and tube to work.

today, any other day

I was pleased with myself for my run down the platform at Highbury & Islington in order to avoid the worst crush on the southbound Victoria line train during a rain-drenched rush hour. As the driver announced that the train would not stop at Kings Cross St Pancras station due to overcrowding, I sensed a small spark of what it is to be a Londoner, to endure and to persist. The train paused at the station, and everyone on board stood in silence as a tannoy announced to an empty platform, "Please leave the station immediately. This station is closed due to a reported emergency." Just another rainy day in London, I suppose. It's the first one I can remember – not bad for five weeks.

It's the beginning of week two at my new job, based in Streatham; mechanical royalties. The sense of initiation into a secret society remains – who among you understands mechanical royalties? Not I, not yet, but I’m on the way. Roll on, payday.

Last Thursday my friends and I enjoyed a brilliant night at Koko, absolutely loving the dubmentalness of Kora’s first London show. Looking up at the stage, and looking back at the well-populated, impressively tiered venue, I think the band absolutely loved it too. On the agenda this week is a look at the Future of the Left, a new lineup from ex-Mclusky frontman Falco. And I'm counting the days until the Decemberists' show at the Royal Festival Hall next week. Eight sleeps!

My well-documented (is it?) "mild obsession with Turkey" (thanks Erica) simmers on, and I've been confused by the seeming lack of flight options from the usual suspects of late. Does no one fly to Antalya in the off-season? Also in the travel sphere, my friends and I have vague plans of Christmas in Eastern Europe. Perhaps Slovenia, since Angela and I failed to get there in July. I'm pushing for Romania, or Bulgaria. Why? Guess.

the last day before the first day

The weather in London has been lovely lately. I went on a cruise on the Thames last week, on a perfect sunny afternoon, made interesting by the rather dry commentary on board.

It's Sunday, and I had a bit of a late night last night checking out the Bad Robots at Barfly in Camden (lots of fun), and what I'm getting at is that my mind is working in bullet points.

Audrey introduced me to Nathan Barley, which is quite hilarious. Although I must watch the last two episodes again as I was just about comatose on the couch at the time. Oh, in London we say "sofa".

I saw Eagle vs Shark last week too - very funny. I stumbled upon Lily's myspace page, good for a laugh. As has been said, it is Napoleon Dynamite style humour, and like Napoleon, Jarrod doesn't seem to have any redeeming features at all. Lily, you have a heart of gold.

Today is the last day before the first day of my new job. Anything could happen.

Ex-racers make great pets.

Last night Katy, Megan, Audrey and I went to the Walthamstow dog races. Unfortunately I forgot my camera, but hopefully this person won't mind me linking to their awesome shot here.

It was Stella's fourth birthday too, but she didn't come to the track. Here's a slideshow of her gift from me being created, on a warm afternoon in Park Güell, Barcelona.

I am in post-interview limbo. Lucky for me it's an interesting juxtaposition between proper grown-up job with decent career prospects and bumming around with temp work and doing lots of travel.