I'd really hoped to do something with this bank holiday weekend, but any ideas I dreamt up seemed to be knocked on the head as soon as I explored them. Either friends were busy, places weren't open... Whatever it was, signs (call it what you will), were telling me that maybe I should grind to a halt for a change. It's easy to get carried along by the speed of life; that when you get a long weekend you have to immediately seize upon it and plan something big and meaningful to do with the time.
There's no harm in stopping and looking around every so often.
Trees are budding, bees emerging, swallows returning, barbeques lighting - all to the soundtrack of laughter and lawnmowers. Yes, it's a typically British spring. Or is it? Where's the rain, come to think of it?
No big dramas unfolding or threatening.
Just the unspectacular status quo.
Life is good.
I think.
Disturbs me a little when things are going good, you deliberately go looking for problems. Like sitting in a comfortable chair for the first time; you rock it a little and check the legs to see if it'll really hold you before settling into it.
After fifteen months I'm awaiting a letter from the Police in the next few weeks to give me the go/no for June. Everything's poised, ready to kick the next stage of my life into gear.
I think?
Busy drumming fingers on the table.
This silence is way too loud.
Someone please turn it down.
Saturday, April 29, 2006
Monday, April 24, 2006
Joyous & poignant
Saturday was of course dominated by Rebecca's wedding, all of which passed without a hitch. Although cool overcast weather had been forecast, miraculously the clouds burned away by the time she exited the church a married woman. Reception and evening do were also great fun, the disco straying just the right side of cheesy.
Given enough alcohol, yes I do dance.
Definitely agree with what I was saying before too - weddings are weddings, but when it's a close friend or family member tying the knot it really is a joyous and somewhat poignant occasion. Oh, and also the Police-conversation thing I was mentioning...
Sunday I'd been invited along with the circle of friends to a sort of follow-up 'gathering' round at Becky's parents to chill for a bit and munch yet more finger-food before seeing them off on their honeymoon (complete with cans tied to the back of their car courtesy of her mischievous brother). Hung around with the friends for the rest of the day to chat, reminisce and play board games. I even cleaned up at Monopoly for a change (see, when you stop trying so hard things happen). A pub meal and drinks outside at sunset rounded-off a wonderful weekend.
I breezed into work this morning with a smile on my face and a mood as light as the air itself.
That lasted precisely an hour I think.
Ah well.
Later on this morning the strap on my pendant broke. Luckily I didn't lose it, but I've been wearing that thing for over ten years now and had only replaced the 'thong' recently.
I hope that's not a omen.
Given enough alcohol, yes I do dance.
Definitely agree with what I was saying before too - weddings are weddings, but when it's a close friend or family member tying the knot it really is a joyous and somewhat poignant occasion. Oh, and also the Police-conversation thing I was mentioning...
Sunday I'd been invited along with the circle of friends to a sort of follow-up 'gathering' round at Becky's parents to chill for a bit and munch yet more finger-food before seeing them off on their honeymoon (complete with cans tied to the back of their car courtesy of her mischievous brother). Hung around with the friends for the rest of the day to chat, reminisce and play board games. I even cleaned up at Monopoly for a change (see, when you stop trying so hard things happen). A pub meal and drinks outside at sunset rounded-off a wonderful weekend.
I breezed into work this morning with a smile on my face and a mood as light as the air itself.
That lasted precisely an hour I think.
Ah well.
Later on this morning the strap on my pendant broke. Luckily I didn't lose it, but I've been wearing that thing for over ten years now and had only replaced the 'thong' recently.
I hope that's not a omen.
Friday, April 21, 2006
Reflective moment #2
So The Queen is 80 today.
Whopee-do.
However what really knocked me for six today was when one of my Aunts pointed out that it’s 20 years to the day since my grandfather Harold passed away.
I can still recall that day so clearly.
And the time, by god the time, that seems to have passed since then…
Simply stunned me.
Whopee-do.
However what really knocked me for six today was when one of my Aunts pointed out that it’s 20 years to the day since my grandfather Harold passed away.
I can still recall that day so clearly.
And the time, by god the time, that seems to have passed since then…
Simply stunned me.
Thursday, April 20, 2006
Wedding thoughts
Of course, not mine before you choke at the title.
Come on now.
For a start I have no long-term (or short term for that matter) partner to speak of, and besides, can you think of anyone clinically stable and patient enough to be able to form any kind of long term bond with this quiet little freak?
See, I didn’t think so either.
No, one of my long-term friends, Rebecca, is getting married this weekend to her partner David. As some of you well know, when a good friend gets married the feeling of attending their wedding is a lot different to any others you may have been to. It’s not just simply a happy day to experience but a uniquely poignant one at that. You see someone particularly close to you about to embark on another of life’s great journeys and you tend to stop and consider your own standing in life; where you’ve come from, where you’re going and in what direction.
Having attended the weddings of friends & family in the last few years I’ve noticed how the wedding reception conversation has begun to shift in my favour since I chose to peruse a different career. Generally, the dinner conversation used to go thus:
“Oh, so what do you work in?”
“Well I’m currently a Bookseller…”
“That must be so wonderful, all those books.”
I’m thinking; bollocks, it’s stressful, spectacularly underpaid and monotonous work dealing with the daily galactic stupidity, laziness and ignorance of the great unwashed.
Instead, lying through gritted teeth and sparkling crocodile smile:
“Yeah, you could say so...”
I then suffocate the line of questioning with a deeply pregnant pause, and with great relief herd the conversation off in a different direction.
The last few wedding receptions have shown an intriguing change, as regardless of age and gender, as soon as I impart that I’m about to commence training as a Police Officer everyone is immediately fascinated. I get hit with a gentle barrage of questions about what’s and why’s of my prospective career.
Which is no bad thing. It’s nice to command the attention for a change. Anyone who knows me knows that I'm not a natural in the limelight. I shine brightest when no-one's looking.
Although it’s going to be nice to be among friends on such a happy day, not having any significant other of my own will remind me that behind the calm, cheerful exterior I present lies a very hollow and lonesome soul.
Come on now.
For a start I have no long-term (or short term for that matter) partner to speak of, and besides, can you think of anyone clinically stable and patient enough to be able to form any kind of long term bond with this quiet little freak?
See, I didn’t think so either.
No, one of my long-term friends, Rebecca, is getting married this weekend to her partner David. As some of you well know, when a good friend gets married the feeling of attending their wedding is a lot different to any others you may have been to. It’s not just simply a happy day to experience but a uniquely poignant one at that. You see someone particularly close to you about to embark on another of life’s great journeys and you tend to stop and consider your own standing in life; where you’ve come from, where you’re going and in what direction.
Having attended the weddings of friends & family in the last few years I’ve noticed how the wedding reception conversation has begun to shift in my favour since I chose to peruse a different career. Generally, the dinner conversation used to go thus:
“Oh, so what do you work in?”
“Well I’m currently a Bookseller…”
“That must be so wonderful, all those books.”
I’m thinking; bollocks, it’s stressful, spectacularly underpaid and monotonous work dealing with the daily galactic stupidity, laziness and ignorance of the great unwashed.
Instead, lying through gritted teeth and sparkling crocodile smile:
“Yeah, you could say so...”
I then suffocate the line of questioning with a deeply pregnant pause, and with great relief herd the conversation off in a different direction.
The last few wedding receptions have shown an intriguing change, as regardless of age and gender, as soon as I impart that I’m about to commence training as a Police Officer everyone is immediately fascinated. I get hit with a gentle barrage of questions about what’s and why’s of my prospective career.
Which is no bad thing. It’s nice to command the attention for a change. Anyone who knows me knows that I'm not a natural in the limelight. I shine brightest when no-one's looking.
Although it’s going to be nice to be among friends on such a happy day, not having any significant other of my own will remind me that behind the calm, cheerful exterior I present lies a very hollow and lonesome soul.
Monday, April 17, 2006
Purge
I just like the way that word rolls off the tounge.
Since the prospect of moving dawned-again on me today, I've realised that I need to jettison a whole bunch of stuff before then.
Hence most of this evening was spent going through my wardrobes.
Quite satisfying really.
Got a bag full of old clothes for The Salvation Army...
A massive pile of obscure books to sell at the next car boot sale...
And a few pearls gleamed from the 'junk' to sell on E-bay.
At least someone, somewhere can benefit from my hoarded crap.
Since the prospect of moving dawned-again on me today, I've realised that I need to jettison a whole bunch of stuff before then.
Hence most of this evening was spent going through my wardrobes.
Quite satisfying really.
Got a bag full of old clothes for The Salvation Army...
A massive pile of obscure books to sell at the next car boot sale...
And a few pearls gleamed from the 'junk' to sell on E-bay.
At least someone, somewhere can benefit from my hoarded crap.
Sunday, April 16, 2006
For life is quite absurd, and death's the final word
Apologies to any Christians reading this, but...
Couldn't help but smile this evening when one of the radio stations played Monty Python's "Always Look on the Bright Side of Life".
Excellent timing.
(On a number of levels)
Had to crank it up and whistle along.
Couldn't help but smile this evening when one of the radio stations played Monty Python's "Always Look on the Bright Side of Life".
Excellent timing.
(On a number of levels)
Had to crank it up and whistle along.
Friday, April 14, 2006
Reclaiming the spirit
The inevitability is that whenever I return from travel, of any kind, it gets me down. Really down. Call it post-travel blues, if you will.
However much you try and explain it, those who aren’t natural travellers just don’t get it.
Whenever I loose my spirit of travel and adventure, for however short a time, it’s immediately noticeable. My horizons recede from the infinite to the all-too-bleak and close. It’s easy enough to be told to take a reality check, to snap out of it and just get on with life, but this is a part of myself I can never surrender. For if I do, I fear the battle within me, on so many levels, will truly be lost.
I’ve been told I’m at my best when I just let go and act on instinct, I really must remember that.
This afternoon I did something very much out of character. I find it virtually impossible to read two books at once (and whinge at those who do), but since my current book Black Swan Green (David Mitchell’s latest) is underwhelming me somewhat, I sat out in the sun and slight breeze with a copy of Jonathan Livingston Seagull (by Richard Bach). Someone gave me a copy a while ago and I never really got around to reading it. Now I’m usually the first to raise an eyebrow at ‘inspirational fables’, after all I ploughed through The Alchemist a few years back only to get the message:
“Omens can be good… And bad.”
Really? Y’say?!
However ‘Seagull resonated much deeper within me. Perhaps it was the metaphor of flight, the contemplation of loneliness and singular instinct; maybe it was the stillness and warmth reading it outside on a bank holiday afternoon. Whatever it was, those few pages have helped rekindle the embers within me.
I’m going outside for a walk in the sun now.
Don't stop me.
However much you try and explain it, those who aren’t natural travellers just don’t get it.
Whenever I loose my spirit of travel and adventure, for however short a time, it’s immediately noticeable. My horizons recede from the infinite to the all-too-bleak and close. It’s easy enough to be told to take a reality check, to snap out of it and just get on with life, but this is a part of myself I can never surrender. For if I do, I fear the battle within me, on so many levels, will truly be lost.
I’ve been told I’m at my best when I just let go and act on instinct, I really must remember that.
This afternoon I did something very much out of character. I find it virtually impossible to read two books at once (and whinge at those who do), but since my current book Black Swan Green (David Mitchell’s latest) is underwhelming me somewhat, I sat out in the sun and slight breeze with a copy of Jonathan Livingston Seagull (by Richard Bach). Someone gave me a copy a while ago and I never really got around to reading it. Now I’m usually the first to raise an eyebrow at ‘inspirational fables’, after all I ploughed through The Alchemist a few years back only to get the message:
“Omens can be good… And bad.”
Really? Y’say?!
However ‘Seagull resonated much deeper within me. Perhaps it was the metaphor of flight, the contemplation of loneliness and singular instinct; maybe it was the stillness and warmth reading it outside on a bank holiday afternoon. Whatever it was, those few pages have helped rekindle the embers within me.
I’m going outside for a walk in the sun now.
Don't stop me.
Wednesday, April 12, 2006
Back once again
Strange how I can write for pages in my travel journal, but when faced with a computer screen and a flashing cursor my mind goes blank. Perhaps it’s the lack of stimulation, that is to say back home in the mundane, far removed from the exotic.
Vienna, the city, was excellent. A sort-of refined older sister to the moody bohemian Czech capital up the road. The weather couldn’t have been better - four days straight of clear blue skies and warm winds, all the more enjoyable to walk the streets and alleyways soaking up the relaxed vibe, surrounded by astonishing architectural wealth.
Vienna, the experience, was never going to be straightforward. When you share it with a trans-global friend/ex-girlfriend there’s always going to be highs and lows; moments of passion tempered with moments of fracture.
However it’s always more reassuring to contemplate the circling of the flame along with a kindred spirit who’s instinctively drawn to do the same.
We certainly had fun once again.
Vienna, the city, was excellent. A sort-of refined older sister to the moody bohemian Czech capital up the road. The weather couldn’t have been better - four days straight of clear blue skies and warm winds, all the more enjoyable to walk the streets and alleyways soaking up the relaxed vibe, surrounded by astonishing architectural wealth.
Vienna, the experience, was never going to be straightforward. When you share it with a trans-global friend/ex-girlfriend there’s always going to be highs and lows; moments of passion tempered with moments of fracture.
However it’s always more reassuring to contemplate the circling of the flame along with a kindred spirit who’s instinctively drawn to do the same.
We certainly had fun once again.
Wednesday, April 05, 2006
Please leave your message after the tone...
Packed!
Etd by car 04:00-ish tomorrow morning.
Ugh.
Fly out from Manchester at 07:55.
Between now and early Tuesday morning - anything urgent you can email me on ingmar_c@hotmail.com or those who have my number, text me.
I'm outta' here!
Etd by car 04:00-ish tomorrow morning.
Ugh.
Fly out from Manchester at 07:55.
Between now and early Tuesday morning - anything urgent you can email me on ingmar_c@hotmail.com or those who have my number, text me.
I'm outta' here!
Tuesday, April 04, 2006
Oh, Vienna!
Oh my god how I've been longing to use that Ultravox song as a post title.
Ahem.
Already got most of my stuff laid out and ready, so a short furious burst of packing tomorrow night before I turn in very early indeed. 07:55 flight out of Manchester via Dusseldorf to arrive in Vienna midday. This'll be preceded by a 90-minute drive to the airport at stupid-o'clock in the morning, the consolation being that the motorways are utterly devoid of traffic at that time and in fact rather enjoyable to drive for a change.
So here we go again...
Hell yeah!
Twenty-four hours solo in the city before my friend flies in from Ankara, Turkey.
No firm plans other than to chill out and enjoy the sights, the food and the atmosphere over a long weekend.
So in case you wonder why I drop off the radar this weekend, that's why.
Ahem.
Already got most of my stuff laid out and ready, so a short furious burst of packing tomorrow night before I turn in very early indeed. 07:55 flight out of Manchester via Dusseldorf to arrive in Vienna midday. This'll be preceded by a 90-minute drive to the airport at stupid-o'clock in the morning, the consolation being that the motorways are utterly devoid of traffic at that time and in fact rather enjoyable to drive for a change.
So here we go again...
Hell yeah!
Twenty-four hours solo in the city before my friend flies in from Ankara, Turkey.
No firm plans other than to chill out and enjoy the sights, the food and the atmosphere over a long weekend.
So in case you wonder why I drop off the radar this weekend, that's why.
Saturday, April 01, 2006
Not fooled
Disclaimer: None of this is an April fool.
These, however, clearly are. My favourite has to be the Guardian's story of Coldplay rewriting 'Talk' for the Tories to use as an election anthem.
I've been visiting my father in hospital these last few days. Thankfully it's nothing life-threatening but a operation he's been waiting for. As bright, modern and redesigned as hospitals are these days they remain pretty depressing places. Be it the 'clinical' smell that grabs you by the nostrils almost immediately, the tired smiles of the staff (hardly fresh from a 12hr shift) along with the moans, groans and coughs as you pass by the wards. No wonder my dad wants to get out of there at the earliest possible opportunity. He's in good spirits and recovering well from his operation but he can't wait to pull out the saline drips, return home and head out for a walk. I don't blame him.
Thankfully he should be home and well before I head off aboard next week. For those of you that don't know I'm flying out for a long weekend in Vienna, Austria, to meet up with an old friend of mine. Four days should hopefully be more than enough to explore the sumptuous Hapsburg legacy and sip plenty of Viennese coffees. And the cakes... Apparently the cakes in Vienna are a revelation.
Who the hell needs a travel agent these days though? I booked my flights, accommodation, arranged insurance and airport parking all from this very keyboard. The only reason I'll be setting foot in one next week is to grab a fistful of Euros since it's still allot cheaper than using an ATM out there.
I deliberately haven't told a soul at work what I'm doing on my long weekend, which is no mean feat considering that they're a pretty nosey bunch. Whenever I've returned from trips abroad previously, I get the polite brief questions of where I've been and what I've been up to, but no-one ever seems genuinely, deeply interested. I may as well be talking to a hairdresser. I get fed up with the snide comments of "how can I afford these luxuries so often". Well hey guys, perhaps ditch the chain-smoking habit, don't drink to excess as a rule and or buy every DVD under the sun and then you might be able to afford to enjoy a little bit more of what life has to offer beyond these borders. Shop around for flights, accommodation and the like and you'd be surprised how affordable things can be.
For once I just can't be bothered with the going-through-the-motions conversations so I'll keep this one to myself. I know travel isn't everyone's passion, I mean not to write this astride some moral high-horse but merely from the defensive ramparts of something that means allot to me.
Perhaps it's the closest I've got to having a religion.
These, however, clearly are. My favourite has to be the Guardian's story of Coldplay rewriting 'Talk' for the Tories to use as an election anthem.
I've been visiting my father in hospital these last few days. Thankfully it's nothing life-threatening but a operation he's been waiting for. As bright, modern and redesigned as hospitals are these days they remain pretty depressing places. Be it the 'clinical' smell that grabs you by the nostrils almost immediately, the tired smiles of the staff (hardly fresh from a 12hr shift) along with the moans, groans and coughs as you pass by the wards. No wonder my dad wants to get out of there at the earliest possible opportunity. He's in good spirits and recovering well from his operation but he can't wait to pull out the saline drips, return home and head out for a walk. I don't blame him.
Thankfully he should be home and well before I head off aboard next week. For those of you that don't know I'm flying out for a long weekend in Vienna, Austria, to meet up with an old friend of mine. Four days should hopefully be more than enough to explore the sumptuous Hapsburg legacy and sip plenty of Viennese coffees. And the cakes... Apparently the cakes in Vienna are a revelation.
Who the hell needs a travel agent these days though? I booked my flights, accommodation, arranged insurance and airport parking all from this very keyboard. The only reason I'll be setting foot in one next week is to grab a fistful of Euros since it's still allot cheaper than using an ATM out there.
I deliberately haven't told a soul at work what I'm doing on my long weekend, which is no mean feat considering that they're a pretty nosey bunch. Whenever I've returned from trips abroad previously, I get the polite brief questions of where I've been and what I've been up to, but no-one ever seems genuinely, deeply interested. I may as well be talking to a hairdresser. I get fed up with the snide comments of "how can I afford these luxuries so often". Well hey guys, perhaps ditch the chain-smoking habit, don't drink to excess as a rule and or buy every DVD under the sun and then you might be able to afford to enjoy a little bit more of what life has to offer beyond these borders. Shop around for flights, accommodation and the like and you'd be surprised how affordable things can be.
For once I just can't be bothered with the going-through-the-motions conversations so I'll keep this one to myself. I know travel isn't everyone's passion, I mean not to write this astride some moral high-horse but merely from the defensive ramparts of something that means allot to me.
Perhaps it's the closest I've got to having a religion.
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