GLASTONBURY 2007

Well, I'm back - clean, dry and warm after four days of mud, rain and more mud.
But forget the weather, the rest was fantastic... if it had been dry I think I could have lived there (well, maybe not quite, as most of the year I'd be sharing the site with cows and more mud... but you know what I mean).

We arrived Thursday lunchtime - and hugely grateful that friends that had gone the day before had put our tent up for us, as it was an epic slog to find and get to our camp.






But as soon as we'd dumped our stuff it was straight onto the warm cider and checking out some of the smaller acts that had already kicked off the festival. We were aiming for Duke Special in the Leftfield Tent, but they weren't actually there, so we ended up checking out an acoustic bloke called Dan Donnelly and Irish rockers from 'County Holloway' in north London called Neck.



Made the most of a brief spell of sunshine chilling out with a few drinks at Jazz World - and spent the evening just wandeirng round the stalls, bars and The Park area.






The queue for silent disco was sadly too long, but friends that made it in (you all listen to different stuff on headphones, but hear the same DJ so it all looks a bit surreal) say it was the funniest thing they've ever done.

After an early start, I'll admit we kopped out a bit and were asleep by 1am - despite the thumping music and stuff all around us. Felt like we'd been there for days - not hours.

Friday - an absolutely brilliant start to the Festival 'proper'. Headed to Jazz World for Guilty Pleasures - all those songs that aren't exactly cool, but everyone LOVES. Some great acts doing covers -

highlights were The Magic Numbers doing Dolly Parton's 9-to-5, Suggs doing Love Is In The Air and a bloke from Bay City Rollers (can't remember what he sang). And it was straight onto the Pear Cider at around 11am.


Went for another wander, and ended up at the John Peel stage where we caught the very end of a very loud Disco Ensemble. Got caught in a huge downpour, but were thankfully right outside a beer tent!

Next was Amy Winehouse - very good, amazing voice - but couldn't string a sentence together when she tried to talk. I wonder why?!

Later that evening we gathered at the Pyramid stage for the big three acts of the night. Bit disappointed by The Fratellis - the sound systen was a bit rubbish, and they seemed to just come on, do the album, and that was that. Kasabian followed them and they were pretty good - but Arctic Monkeys totally rocked. We stupidly left during what we thought was the last song as we were knackered and were trying to avoid the mass rush in very sticky mud (it was taking twice as long to walk anywhere in the really thick, sticky stuff) - but we missed them doing a cover of Shirley Bassey's Diamonds Are Forever.

Chilled out back at the tent - totally knackered again! There was no way we were going to make Duke Special in the Leftfield Tent at 2am.

Wandered around the Greenfields area Saturday morning - caught some poetry reading which was pretty good, speakers forum, a fire breathing clay dragon kiln, odd sculptures and the Stone Circle. Listened to The Courgettes - a rather unusual covers band based on food in the Soil Association tent. Good fun.

Then traipsed to the Queen's Head after a tip-off that Duke Special (we REALLY wanted to see this band) were playing at 2pm, but they weren't. Finally managed to see them - fourth time lucky - at 4pm, and they didn't disappoint. Didn't hang around for the SingStar stage funnily enough!

Caught the end of Lily Allen, of whom I'm not a big fan, but I have to admit she was very good. She did an amzing cover of Blondie's Heart of Glass. Very impressed.

All went our separate ways for most of Saturday night. I started off at Paul Weller - one of my favourite artists ever. And he didn't disappoint - as good if not better than when I've seen him before. Also met a crazy Scottish guy who'd been to Glastonbury every year since 1970 - impressive.


Headed to the Other Stage for Editors, and just before they started I got a text from a friend's brother who just happened to be at his tent within perfect listening distance of the stage. So joined him and his friends for a few drinks while listening to Editors who were very good.

Then it all got a bit messy. Was a bit drunk and staggered back over to the Pyrmaid Stage to catch The Killers. I remember the fireworks and the first couple of songs, but then I thought it would be a good idea to try to meet up with Sam who was there, but further back. Slightly (?) drunk, wading through thick mud in a crowd of tens of thousands isn't a good idea. Kept falling over and ended up where the sound system was rubbish. The crowd where I was were boo-ing and leaving in their droves, so I gave up, and headed back to the tent.

We all congregated back there and had a big campfire, which was fantastic. Then a lot of gin was involved on my part, and I think a bit of falling into tents etc. Didn't quite make it to sunrise, but it was certainly past 4am when we made it to bed. Really great end to the night.

And what made it even better was that I didn't even have a hangover then next day... allbeit I was probably still drunk when I got up at lunchtime, and felt a wee bit ropey by 3pm, but I got off unbelievably unscathed (except for the odd humungous bruise). Spent some of the afternoon at the Leftfield tent listening to some great comedy from Marcus Brigstock and Ed Byrne - and a talk from Tony Benn (a Glastonbury must-do, surely). Tried to see Bill Bailey at the Cabaret Tent, but it was rammed and raining again, so caught some of a brilliant jazzy covers band whose name escapes me.

It was a whole evening and night back at the Pyramid stage. Shirley Bassey (we were too far back to really hear properly, but she was characteristically camp), Manic Street Preachers (absolutely excellent), Kaiser Chiefs (ditto), and finally The Who.



They did put on an amazing show - visually and audially (is that a word?), and thought they totally rocked. We may not have been quite so awe-struck as the rest of the people we were with, who are all massive Who fans, but we appreciated that they were really rather good!


Sadly it was torrential rain all night - by which point we were just too dispondent to carry on partying at one of the late night tents or discos. And the rain didn't stop until were almost back in London the next day. Thankfully for us, the reasonably early night meant we were up, packed and de-tented (!) by 9.30 - trudged to the car by 10.30, and off site (after being shoved out of the mud by a tractor with a hay bale) by 1.30. It could have been an awful lot worse - Sam, Matt, Lynn and Elma were still there mid-afternoon, and the queues to get out were around 7 hours. Everyone was getting stuck in the mud and there weren't enough tractors to cope.

Anyway - we're home now. Dry and clean. The washing machine has been working overtime, but I'm yet to tackle the muddy tent, boots and chairs. Any suggestions on how to wash and dry said items without a garden would be most appreciated.......

Until next year....!

SCOTLAND THE BRAVE

I've left it late this week - in another 55 minutes I would have failed my challenge of posting two blogs a week all through March. But I remembered just in time, so here it is.

Frankly, I've not got anything to say since yesterday, as all I've done is go to work. So if I have to pick the most interesting thing from the past 24 hours, I guess it would be watching virtually all the Euro 2008 qualifiers at the same time.
I caught the first halves at work, and most of the second halves on the radio. Sadly, the only home nation to lose were Scotland - but not for lack of perseverance. And they were playing against at the World Champions, Italy, away from home.
I often get slated for the fact I support Scotland over England, even though England is my country of birth. But the truth is - my Dad's Scottish, I'm a Daddy's girl, and I've always felt much more patriotic (in the true sense of the world - land of my Father) and pride for Scotland - deep down in my heart.




And frankly given the poor showing by England over the past half dozen matches or so - I'm glad. Tonight - although they won 3-0 - they were really rather dire (or should that be Dyer!), against the 163rd-ranked team in the world, Andorra. Scotland showed fight and spirit and created chances, but sadly lost 2-0 - but remain second in a group that includes France and Ukraine.

Just for a sense of balance and to round things up, Wales won 3-0 against San Marino, Northern Ireland had a great 2-1 win against Sweden, and the Republic of Ireland beat Slovakia 1-0.
So that's your football update for the evening.
Oh, and one good thing from England's poor showing - Preston's David Nugent scored on his international debut (although it was Jermaine Defoe's goal really!!!).

TURNING THIRTY

I'm thirty in less than a fortnight. It doesn't bother me in the slightest - not like it has done for quite a few of my male friends. But I have been feeling rather nostalgic recently.
Ordinarily, I'd pine for my university days which were an absolute blast. But these past weeks I've been thinking back to my school days. I've even unearthed some of my old diaries from when I was 15, 16 and 17. And I was quite shocked to read what a complete bitch I was. Not to my girl friends - but the boys... all of whom I seem to have fancied at one point or another!

Every week I'm either thinking of asking someone out, and then 'getting off' with some one different; or I have a boyfriend, but I'm thinking more about another person; or I'm happy in a 'relationship' but still 'get off' with someone else - week in, week out for what appears to about five years. I do remember not being particularly faithful to the few boyfriends I had through school, but reading back what I can only assume is a more accurate picture, as I was writing it at the time, I was really, really horrible.

It's no wonder Mum and me used to row about what she always referred to as my ' attitude problem'. I'm in no doubt she used to read my diaries, so she would have found her daughter to be a completely selfish slut. Not that I was sleeping with any of these boys - just adolescent stuff.
I can't decide whether I was just very indecisive as to who I wanted to be with; whether I simply just wanted to have my cake and eat it; or was scared of any kind of commitment, and didn't care for how they might feel.
Thankfully none of that is now an issue - I am in now doubt whatsoever who I want to be with, and that's been the case for the past six years, and I hope many, many more to come.
So there is the argument that at least I got all my 'philandering' - or should that be rich-andering, stu-andering, matt-andering etc etc..... - out of the way when I was young, and not in my 20s when relationships are clearly more important and with more serious consequences.

Anyway - all this reminiscing and lurking into the misty past brings me back again to my 30th. Perhaps that's why I have chosen to celebrate with a big School Disco! But I promise I won't be the naughty teenager that I was the first time round!!!

CREEPY CHISWICK

For my latest walk I stayed local - and check the supposedly haunted sites around Chiswick. The walk is taken from 'Walking Haunted London' by Richard Jones, and any quotes used to explain the ghostly sightings are taken from that book.

I started at Turnham Green, and The Tabard Inn:

It's said that this pub - built in 1880 - is haunted by "the shade of an old lady, dressed all in black, who sits at tables saying nothing but apparently whistling to herself, although no sound in ever heard".


Wandering through the very pleasant Victorian streets of Bedford Park I came to a very unremarkable row of council houses. But it is here that it is said a poltergeist used to roam.

In July 1956, the poltergeist started throwing coins at the occupants of one of the houses. "Their 13-year old son David was struck in the face. When razor blades began to drift around the house and a spanner thrown by an unseen hand smashed a window pane, the family finally called the police." The officers were also struck by flying coins, in the garden. It was decided that the ghoul was focusing his attention on young David, so he was sent away to stay with relatives. The spooky activity ceased, and didn't start up again on his return.

From there I walked to Chiswick High Road, and Chiswick police station.

It was built on the site of Linden House - an 18th century manor - where, in 1792, Mrs Abercrombie was hacked to death by her son-in-law, Thomas Wainwright. In the 1950s, when the building was occupied by Chiswick Fire Station, firemen would often "hear the sounds of a woman's footsteps walking briskly around the basement during the early hours of the morning. The noise would always stop the moment anyone opened the basement door and switched on the lights". Since becoming the police station, the noises have stopped, but "a spectral lady has been known to put in ghostly appearances on the third floor of the new building".

Not far away - next to the post office - is the Chiswick Warehouse. It's now posh, expensive, apartments - but 20 years ago, the warehouse workers were scared of visiting the second floor. They talked of an icy coldness and "a mysterious, sinister-looking man seen lurking in the shadows and of strange shapes that twisted and writhed across the ceilings". There was also talk of being jabbed in the back by invisible fingers, and of a little old man who walked straight through a locked door.

After an unremarkable walk through a residential area and across the A4, I headed to Chiswick House. But first I came across an interesting memorial to the victims of the first V2 bomb to fall on London during the Second World War. It's not necessarily haunted, or pointed out on the walk, but I thought it was worth noting.

As I entered the grounds of Chiswick House, I'm not kidding when I say the sun - which had been blazing all day - went in, and the temperature definitely dropped a couple of degrees. Not so sure about dark shadows in the undergrowth, but it was certainly a bit creepy.




The house itself was built in 1725, and designed by the Earl of Burlington. Two prime ministers have died here - Charles James Fox in 1806 and George Canning in 1827. It became a lunatic asylum in the late 19th century, and was eventually bought by the Ministry of Works in 1956. "It was during this refurbishment that the inexplicable smell of bacon and eggs would waft around the building. The workmen laughed it off as the ghost of 'one of the mad cooks'. Ever since, though, staff and visitors have constantly been mystified by the distinctive smell of fried bacon that permeates the back gallery. Some visitors claim to sense a female presence in the bedchamber and one lady looking in the mirror there - the only original mirror in the house - was dumbfounded to see the distinctive form of Lady Burlington reflected behind her, but on turning she found the room empty.

The next bit of the walk was around Chiswick Mall - a very villagey area, which you would never think was in London. On reaching St Nicholas Church I was all ready to have a wander round the graveyard - apparently haunted by the white-clad figures of Mary Facounberg and Frances Rich - the daughters of Oliver Cromwell.
"Rumours have long circulated that, following her father's posthumous beheading, Mary bribed a guard to allow her to smuggle her father's headless corpse away from Tyburn, and that she subsequently had it re-interred in the same vault at St Nicholas's where she and her sister would eventually rest. When the church was rebuilt in 1882 the vicar decided to investigate the rumour and he opened the vault. He found the coffins of the two sisters but also a third coffin, which showed signs of rough usage. Fearing the arrival of groups of sightseers to moralise over Cromwell, he had the vault bricked up and left it unmarked. Perhaps the fact that their resting place was desecrated by a vicar, who, by his own admission, disliked everything their father stood for, is why the two spirits return to wander amongst the graves."

However, I didn't get to wander around much - save to see the memorial to the engraver William Hogarth - because a VERY creepy man, dressed all in black, with long jet black hair and dark glasses was walking his cat there, and that was scarier than any ghost!
Opposite the church is Old Burlington.

It used to be a tap room, and is haunted by "a good-humoured, harmless old ghost, who sports a wide-brimmed black hat and billowing cloak. Since he is just content to stare out from the upper windows and cause no inconvenience, he is left to his own devices by residents, who have christened him 'Percy'".

Passing all the gorgeous houses on Chiswick Mall, alongside the Thames, I came to Walpole House.
This is where a former mistress of Charles the Second - the Duchess of Cleveland, Barbara Villiers - spent the last two years of her life. She was arguably one of the most beautiful women of 17th century society. "By the time she came to live here, her royal lover had been dead some twenty year, and worse still, her appearance had begun to change alarmingly. She had swelled 'gradually to a monstrous bulk', which has physician diagnosed as dropsy... Local residents would talk of seeing her bathed in moonlight, standing at the window, her hands clasped to her breast, imploring her maker to restore her beauty." She died on October 9th 1709, aged 67.
Now, when the moon shines on the windows of here old house, it's said Barbara's puffy, bloated face can still sometimes be seen "pressed against the glass, her dark eyes rolling in despair as she implores and begs for the restoration of her lost looks".



The final spooky site on the walk just happens to be one of our favourite pubs - The Black Lion, and rather handily the story of the Hammersmith Ghost is told on a board outside:

Making a mountain out of a molehill

Turn away now if you're squeamish..... well, actually it's not that bad.

I said goodbye to an old friend today - well, not so much an old friend, but a very annoying daily acquaintance.
I had the large mole removed from the middle of my back which I've had for as long as I can remember. It was mainly for cosmetic reasons, but it's taken years for me to get round to it - and it took all of 5 minutes to go!

After having an anaesthetic injected into my back, the doctor simply took a scalpel to it and 'shaved' it off. I didn't feel a thing, and only knew he was doing it by the movement of his arm.
I'm told there'll still be a mark there,. but it won't be as garish as the monstrosity that was there before.

As I write this, the anaesthetic is starting to wear off and I can feel it a bit, but I can't believe how simple and quick it was. Hope it heals OK and doesn't look too bad. Anyway - the doctor advised that if I was in any pain just to take a couple of paracetamol or a half of something... so on doctors orders, I'd better go and open a bottle of wine!

A new walking blog

As I've previously stated, I originally set this blog up to monitor my walking expeditions around London!
I have now created my own walk, based on the real life of Charles Dickens, and that of his fictitious characters.



I haven't yet tried it out, but I suspect it will take an entire day - especially if you stop at some of the 'watering holes' mentioned en route.

It links many of the walks that can be found in Roger Tagholm's book 'Walking Literary London', along with other walks that I've done from other sources.





The first of what I hope to be a series of my own walks can be found here: http://dickenswalk.blogspot.com/

Dickens also had links with Chelsea, Rotherhithe, Limehouse, Wapping, Greenwich, Highgate, Hampstead and Richmond - so look out for further walks in the future.

Boat ride to Greenwich

I sometimes think we get more out of doing the London 'touristy' things than our friends do when they come to visit. I'm not sure why - maybe we just want to learn more about the city we live in, and see as much of it as we can. Whereas our visitors might just be happy to be out of Leeds/Ashton/Sussex and don't care which bridge is which spanning the Thames and who built it, and when!
Anyway - this week we took advantage of the unseasonably warm and sunny weather and took a couple of Andy's friends on a boat ride from Westminster to Greenwich.

It's about the fourth time I've done that particular 'cruise', and each time I learn something new. Although I was able to bore our guests with other trivial bits of London history along the way.

Sadly, as it was a Monday Greenwich market wasn't open, which is a shame because it's usually pretty good. So I made us all traipse up the hill through Greenwich Park to what I think is the best view of London. In the foreground you have the magnificent National Maritime Museum and Royal Naval College, with the Millennium Dome to the right. And you can follow the river miles out to the west - as far as the Post Office tower and St Paul's Cathedral.

Hammersmith-Putney

When I originally started this blog it was mainly to document the walks I was doing around London - with silly bits of trivia, a few photos and anything interesting I saw along the way.
Well, today I went on one of my favourite walks - from Hammersmith to Putney and back, along the river. It also happens to be right on my doorstep, so no traveling halfway across London first.

I think Hammermsith Bridge is my favourite in London. It looks much more spectacular at night when it's lit up - but it always appears very grand and ornate.




I walked to Putney on the Hammermsith side, which is more urban - with landmarks like the Riverside Studios.




It's been used for decades to record TV and radio shows. Perhaps it's most recently remembered when, in the 1990s, it was home to TFI Friday.

Also along this stretch is one my favourite pubs: The Dove.

















The snug in there holds a very cosy maximum of about seven - it has a fabulous roaring fire and has been frequented by many famous artists, actors and authors over the years.
Further on is the home of Fulham Football Club, at Craven Cottage.












After walking through Bishop's Park and Fulham Palace Gardens, I crossed over Putney Bridge for the return leg. Mostly it's just rowing clubs.




While there are slightly fewer joggers than the other side of the river, there are noticeably more dog walkers as its a very rural stretch, with Barne Elms to the left for much of the towpath. That is until you come to what's now called Harrod's Village -













gorgeous apartments in the stunningly renovated Harrod's Furniture Depositry.
Then it's back over Hammersmith Bridge and home.