blondefish.blogspot.com: June 2009

Zed&Ced

The wedding of the year took place this weekend at the family home just outside Cambridge:

With the fashionista Parisian design-set:

And some rag-tag stragglers:

All in their own unique style:

And an alternative angle on photos:

I heart Paris

I love Paris in the springtime, I love Paris in the fall, but Paris in the summer is surely the best of all.

The door has opened, metaphorically speaking, and I have been financed to spend the summer in Paris at the University of Sciences-Po. Scholar by day, apéritif by night and St-Jean de Luz for a whole week...all for the greater scholastic good bien sûr...

(Scottish) summer fun

Mostly blazing sunshine, but 1 day of rain in the north of scotland gave us the excuse for putting on some wellies and finding some puddles...

Fathers' Day

(He's the one taking the picture!)

Compromise, compromise

Uptown, downtown, flat, house, 2 bedrooms, study, 3 bedrooms, find a flatmate or live on my own, carpet in the bedrooms, wood floors throughout, chimmey, fake fireplaces, wallpaper, tiles, window in the bathroom, garden, storage area for bikes, up the hill, view, close to shops, close to the railway, breakfast bar, large bedroom but small kitchen, gas, electricity, invest for the future, this side of town, old stone house, new build...just some of the many options available to me. Whatever happens, I'm sure it will end up being a compromise.

Summer sun and fun

Scenic tour of Scotland cont.

working girls

The case of the elusive bins

Although 'Keep Britain Tidy' signs are abundant, bins themselves are not. You'd think a greater number of bins that signs might actually help, but it took almost 2 hours to find a single bin. The problem started when I ate a banana at Victoria train station (standing up as they also appear to have removed all the furniture). I couldn't see a bin anywhere but my best guess was that the loos might. 30p later I discovered that only hand driers exist, apparently eliminating the need for waste paper bins. I then began my epic journey - banana skin in hand - that saw me travel from Victoria to Holborn tube station - no bins anywhere in the tube but that is common knowledge - before walking down Chancery Lane, Fleet Street, past St Paul's, over the Millennium Bridge and to Tate Modern, all without seeing a single bin and clutching my browning banana skin. Tate Modern provides many things - a break from the city, a fabulous view, free art, a broadening of the cultural experience, an amazing members' bar ;-) - but one thing I did not expect is that it would also house the only bin I could find for 5km.

Shadows and Light: From Tate Modern to the City of London

The Big Smoke/The Sweaty Armpit

One hits the ground running in London. One has to. From the moment you step off the train at Kings Cross, you are sucked into a void of streaming people, and everyone streams quickly here. Even having left the cool tranquility of the carriage* just moment before, you find yourself picking up the pace as hundreds of you (and their wheelie cases) career down the platform to tackle the waiting throngs trying to get on what you have just got off.

It was actually my second attempt to get to London; the first having been yesterday. An unfortunate combination of Royal Mail's ineptitude and my stupidity had led to the tickets in my hands proving worthless and I had to book another.

In my first few moments in London as the first signs of stress started kicking in as I pushed through the crowds, descended into the tube and came face to pit with a large volume of Londoners unprepared deodorant-wise for the effects of an unexpectedly warm summer's day, I thought to myself, 'this isn't worth it'. The amazing thing about London, however, is that give yourself a few more minutes and you can be in the company of an amazing friend, beside the river, sunning yourselves with a great big glass of chilled** wine.

*not necessarily the case with a two year old behind you.

** in theory, the wine should be chilled. Apparently, fridges break. Even in over-priced cafes at Canary Wharf.

"Polker"

Like father, like son

The Difference: The Caro del Castillos

Spot the Difference: Scotland

Spot the Difference: North of England

A Sunday afternoon...

...and an organ recital at the Church of the Holy Rude*, a 13th century stone Church in the old town of Stirling, on the hill up to the Castle. The coronation of the infant James VI of Scotland (James I of England) took place here in 1567 while his mother Mary Queen of Scots was in prison on an island in Loch Leven and the fiery orator John Knox preached the sermon. The organ is the largest 'romantic' organ in Scotland and it was a lovely little repertoire. Here is a picture from the Church towards Stirling Castle over the Church's cemetary.

* The Holy Rude was a medieval term for the cross of Christ's crucifixion.