Running to stay still

Camden, London
So, what has been going on since the smoke belched off the wheels of a landing Air New Zealand flight from Hong Kong and deposited me wide eyed and bewildered into the hub-bub of 'home', the weird combination of the frenetic, new and yet familiar? As an aside, I have to say seeing so many European faces has oddly freaked me out, a bit like when I came back after a previous period in the States where, on the cat front, I had been used to seeing an ex-girlfriend's Burmese pug faced wee beastie and on seeing 'normal' cats, I cringed as they all seemed to have a massive and grotesque muzzle. Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying that Caucasians have massive and grotesque muzzles, just I'm more used to seeing Asian faces and it still feels odd that there are so many Europeans about.

Well, it simply seems that I have been running to stand still. So much going on, so many people to see and events to go to and yet on the achievement front, or more accurately figuring out what I'm going to do to earn some beans and where I'm going to do it, I have achieved a fat lot of zip. Hey ho.

But (and I know starting a sentence with 'But' would have my old English teacher Chris Nicholson spinning in his velvet smoking jacket) but, let's not dwell on that for now.

What have I been up to (apart from almost freezing to death daily, especially as I've been insisting on continued flip flop foot attire)?

Well, first up there was a swift visit to Brighton to say 'Hello there' to Christina and have a fun if strange evening of cocktail making tuition in a rather glitzy members club where, provided you made cocktails with vodka, the tuition, the ingredients and indeed the downing of said knee-kickers was all free! Not sure if the proprietor had been reading Clive Sinclair's 20 Hot Tips on Running a Business but I feel the model was fundamentally flawed. Of course that didn't stop Christina and me from trying to bankrupt them and teach them a harsh lesson...free of charge!



L: Christina shaking her lemon squeezer and R: me about to redecorate the bar in Ile Blanc Martini (sorry Jeff, distinctly vodka based martini...I'll leave the gin martini education to when I next see ya).

Then a quick dash back to see Ma in Bucks...and also collect my bike so I could once again spin free as a bird and unfettered around London's traffic choked streets. Feels great to have my own 'wheels' once again although it became apparent very quickly that my rear was as unused to sitting on a narrow saddle as my legs were out of practice at spinning the cranks. My butt's only just been broken in to the bike and stopped aching after nearly two weeks.

My provisional London base is with JoBole in Camden. Jo has pretty much played the role of London HQ support staff for my year's expedition and so I am repaying her by crashing in her spare room, raiding her fridge and being a general house irritant. That's gratitude, huh? Still, there's an upside of having me stay - my new found desire to bake CaKe (not such an upside if you're looking to lose weight).



Jo & her friend Jane at the CaKe sacrifice ceremony.

Being back in Camden is a bit odd for its over familiarity and cycling to and from the Borough Bunker (still trying to rent it out, a story I shan't go into for fear of raising my blood pressure) is far too reminiscent of my previous years' commute to & from work. Grim (although the cycle ride is dramatic and actually pleasant).

And of course there was the cricket. The first game on the evening of Thurs Aug 23 was sadly rained off. Cycling from Camden to Kew where we now play our cricket, the rain reminded me of the stair rod style precipitation of Franz Josef on the west coast of NZ. Ridiculous. In fact at 17:30 when we were meant to commence the game the pitch was under an inch of water. Booo!


It was at this time that my London host, sponsor and all round wonderwoman, Jo Bole, unfortunately was struck down with a nasty kidney infection and ended up in University College Hospital for three nights, which was a scare but thankfully she survived. Planet Organic off Tottenham Court Road experienced a trebling of profits over that period!

Then there was the cricket match proper: the 14th annual fixture of ADWorld XI vs Lackademicals XI playing for the Regents Cup, a game that started out amongst a bunch of friendly wastrel misfits back in the early 90s as a way of getting together to fill a bank holiday Sunday cheaply by playing cricket in Regents Park with ill fitting and inadequate kit whilst drinking vast quantities of cheap cider. Since the inaugural match all those years ago the fixture has transformed immeasurably. Wives, partners and a menagerie of nippers pack out the boundary, people fly in for the fixture from around the globe (me & Justin from Hong Kong; Dan, Ros & Ruby from Bangkok), fizzy wine has replaced cider (for some) and gourmet picnic hampers have usurped a bag of Frazzles and late night kebab. We're still all friends and vast quantities of booze are still drunk, so some things never change.

Fortunately the weather had improved since Thursday:



L: The two teams in group shot. R: Justin (from Hong Kong) & I feign amazement at having won the Regents Cup. As usual, Justin did a stirling job of providing team shirts from his tailor in Hong Kong. They were certainly more tasteful than the rain cloud grey and baby puke yellow ones we had one year!



Captain Rik awards Captain Dan the Captain's pint and then Captain Dan does the same to Captian Rik. Captainly stuff.



L: I down my prize pint, whilst the Honeychurches look on, awarded not for cricketing prowess of course but for distance travelled to play in the game. R: Ian did a capital job manning the BBQ until he fell over a low fence, hurt his back and got glass in his foot. I suspect more wine went in Ian than in the steak marinades.

What else, what else? Well, a face from my travels, Leo from Darwin, was passing through London and I managed to meet up with him for a picnic in Hyde Park. Good to see you again Leo and good luck with the move to Tasmania.


And between meeting old friends and fast growing additions such as Seb & Gail's daughter, Iona Biggins, and eventually savouring a pint of oft dreamt of nutty brown Harvey's Best Bitter at the Royal Oak, Tabard Street...

...I managed to fall off my bike and have badly sprained my ankle. ARSE!!



Life's never frikking dull is it!!?? And to prove that point, I've got to hobble off as there's the Chappel Beer Festival in Essex to visit this evening, a beautiful way of drawing the circle on my year away as it was one of the last things I went to in this country before I fled these shores!

Let's GO!!