Draw the world, see the world

I asked Itinerant Londoner Geoff to draw the world (for my MyWorld project) just before he left London to see the world.

And while the pen and pad was out, Geoff decided to be the UK-candidate for my EuroRevision Project. So here's Geoff's version of the UK.

Tree @ Natural History Museum

Tree is the short and succinct name for a new permanent installation at the Natural History Museum.

Erected to commemorate 200 years since Charles Darwin's birth, and installed in the ceiling of a gallery, tree takes its concept from the Darwin's tree of life. It's a wooden, cross-section of a 200 year old oak tree with branches stretching across the gallery's ceiling.

Most impressively, at over 17 metres long, Tree will be the Natural History Museum's largest botany specimen on display.

I was impressed by the way the artist Tania Kovats managed to mix her artistic touch with the Museum's scientific endeavour. I liked how as I looked at the tree, I started to consider the science and its 'natural history'.

Hiberno-English and Irish words

As it was St Patrick's Day last week, many of my recent conversations have been about Ireland and Irish-ness, with accent nearly always the most popular subject.

I was reminded of a print out I had with 22 examples of Hiberno-Irish dialect - and while I agree with most of the examples, some are very 'stage leprauchan'.

The examples are:

1. Is it Commerce he's studying in College?
2. Peter asked John was he at the match on Sunday and did he see Sheila there.
3. They spoiled her as a child and she's a very bold girl in school.
4. How long do you know Margaret?
5. It's a right mess he's after making of it.
6. I saw two sugawn chairs and a pine table for sale.
7. My brother learned me how to drive.
8. Did you ever hear her talking about anything only study?
9. I caught a fine salmon but the rod broke on me and it got away.
10. He has no sense for an eighteen year old: I saw him out walking yesterday without a coat and it raining.
11. He's hopeless to study now: he usen't be like that when he was younger.
12. Is it Sunday the match is on?
13. See is it on the shelf.
14. Are you going to town? I am. Is it a message you are wanting?
15. He's dead sound, a real sincere young fellow altogether.
16. We were here ages before he came.
17. How can she study with the state she's in?
18. I was just after putting down the phone when I realised I forgot to tell you about the party.
19. Her face was all swollen with the mumps.
20. I do be falling over that yoke about ten times a day.
21. I'm on the pension nearly three years now.
22. Every morning I do be after missing the bus.

Numbers 1, 5, 9, 12 and 14 use an odd-for-English sentence structure, mainly (I think) as it comes from a direct translation from Irish (Gaelic).

3, 11, 14 and 20 have words for other words which may be specific to Hiberno-English: bold for naughty, the contraction usen't, message for shopping and yoke for thing. These are my favourite, and there are many more, such as:

press for cupboard
'give out' for 'tell off'
'copy book' for 'note book / jotter'

History of my House - Southwark local history library

I've been digging more into the history of my house. The street does not appear on the 1911 census, so I surmised it either had a different name in 1911 or didn't exist.

Looking at some old maps in the RGS Reading Room brought a little enlightenment - I saw a map from the late 1800s with no street, and one from 1920 with a street. So, it was built sometime at the beginning of the 20th century, making it Edwardian, or (very) late Victorian.

I ordered Godfrey edition maps from 1894 and 1914 which confirmed this (fantastically swift customer service from Alan Godfrey Maps, by the way).

Southwark's local history library - temporarily relocated to Peckham due to renovation - had an index of streets which indicated that street was given its name in 1911. So, the street is 98 years old.

Much more excitingly, in the local history library, I found out the names of all voters who lived in the house from electoral registers.

The earliest I can trace on the street is 1913, but for the first few years my house number is not used (maybe the house was empty? Or maybe the occupants didn't have the right to vote).

And then, from 1918 onwards, these people lived in my house:

• 1918 - 1929 - Daniel & Clara Ayling
  
• 1929-1931 Frederick Jordan, Alice Jordan & Frederick Thomas Jordan
• 1931-1938 Alice Jordan & Frederick Thomas Jordan
• 1938-1939 Alice Jordan
  
• 1939-1940 Thomas Williams & Ellen Alice Williams
  
• 1940-1945 - ?
  
• 1945 - 1959 - George & Amelia Fleming
  
• 1960-1965 - William & Elizabeth Coulson
• 1965-1975 - William Coulson
  
• 1975-1989 - George & Rosa Knott, with Carole Knott & Christine Knott

Sadly when I got to 2008, I expected to find my name on the register (I was getting very excited about it) but I wasn't there! I had taken myself off the list to reduce junk mail. I may reverse that decision for posterity purposes.

My next stop is the London Metropolitan Archives to find out more about the building of the street - and to see if I can work out why it is Ambergate Street.

History of my House

I recently read Home: by Julie Myerson (she's been in the news recently for her book about her son's drug abuse - but Home's infinitely more interesting). In it, she traces the history of everyone who lived in her Clapham home.

And it's fascinating. I was engrossed and inspired - I suddenly wanted to find out more about my house.

I live in Kennington in south London, on a street called Ambergate Street. It extends on from one called Alberta Street (by the way - please don't stalk me, thanks).

Given the name Alberta, from Albert, we've always assumed the street was Victorian. I've wondered about the name Ambergate - Ambergate is a village in Derbyshire, could it be named after that?

I do know that prior to there being a street here, there was a zoo - the Royal Surrey Zoological Gardens. Now all that remains is a small park called Surrey Gardens.

So from a zoo to a quiet residential terrace - there's a lot to find out about!

Cabo da Roca - Europe's most westerly point

Cabo da Roca is Europe's most westerly point. Well, Cabo da Roca is continental Europe's most westerly point. Europe's most westerly point is in Ireland, Iceland, the Azores or French Guiana - depending on perspective.

The land to the north of Lisbon, around a town called Sintra, is forested and mountainous. These uplands stretch on to the coast, ending at Cabo da Roca, which is about 140 metres above the ocean.

Getting there is remarkably easy - it's something of a tourist attraction, of course - take a train to either Cascais or Sintra and then bus 403 from there along winding roads through green countryside.

There isn't much at Cabo da Roca - a pointless tourist office (I wandered in, they ignored me), a restaurant (empty) and a tourist souvenir shop (nothing but usual stuff). A lighthouse, built in 1772, is closed.

Two monuments can be seen - one (oddly) to the Rotary Club sits a little distance back from the headland, and the other juts proudly into the sky, with a cross and an inscription: Onde a terra termina e o mar começa... / Where the land ends and the sea begins...

But Cabo da Roca's beauty isn't in buildings. All around you is the world's grand scale and beauty. Looking down the cliff at the crashing waves and spuming foam of the Atlantic, the full brunt of the ocean hits you. It's unrelenting, it never stops - the tide keeps on coming.

The horizon remains constant, always there, always distant. You could be anywhere, but this is somewhere. My trip benefitted from a sudden change of weather - from drizzly, grey and dull to blue, shining and resplendent.
Cabo da Roca is peaceful despite the fierce ocean, green with sea-gorse and nature's geography at its best.

Observations on Portugal

• Itinerant Londoner was right - the food in Portugal is disappointing. Try as I might, I did not find mijas on the menu, and instead was left with oily, greasy and largely flavourless food. Once or twice, I did think "yes, it's stodge, but glorious stodge" a la Nigella, but that was rare.
• It struck me that while the high-end restaurants may have brilliant food, more commonplace, everyday cafés and such churned out basic, unadorned food. A bit like the food at an Irish wedding - plain and simple, nothing that'd scare that aunties and uncles.
• Cakes, buns and tarts, however were divine, especially the pasteis de nata and pasteis de Belem (above).
• There are a lot of pharmacies in Portugal. Lisbon seemed to have one at every turn.
• My favourite of Lisbon's gay bars were Setimo Ceu in Barrio Alto - ace music, friendly staff and a cool magazine-collage wall - and Max in Principe Real, unadorned, unpretentious and friendly.
• My favourite Metro stop (in Porto) was Estadio do Dragao - simply for the phlegmatic tongue-twisting way it is pronounced. In Lisbon, I quite liked Marques do Pombal as it sounded like Marques do bumhole. (Mature, I know)
• My very favourite things were: azulejos and seeing Cabo da Roca - more of this later.

Sketching out

I went to see a student Work-in-Progress show today at the Royal College of Art. I loved it, seeing the many ways the students research and develop their work.

The exhibition featured fashion, textiles, metalwork and photography students. 

My favourites were:

• Thomas Adank - whose website I think this is - had bold, pastel colours in simple brown frames. It appears to be a big block of colour, until you go closer and realise the colour you're looking atis an expanse of Lenor fabric softener.
  
  
• Melanie Rozencwajg's beautiful images show people in Liverpool Street & Euston stations. She removes the clutter, shops, floors, and everything around to leave just the people in small scale, almost pattern-like.
  
  
• Frederico Camara's research on maps and Brazilian immigration in the UK, though in early stages, seemed interesting.
  
  
• Luke Trybula's textiles were very attractive
  
  
• Keith Barry's textile research was particularly impressive, with intricate patterns and detailing.

Sadly, I can't show any images as photography was prohibited, and I can't find any on the web.

Here are some sketches I did:

Suburbscapes, Seascapes & Snowscapes

I recently saw three interesting exhibitions...

David Rayson - The Everyday Fantastic is at the Marlborough Gallery, showing pen & ink drawings of everyday scenes from suburbia. Many of the scenes are domestic and mundane, with few people. The pen styling gives a scratchy, uncertain feeling to some of the images, like what's real isn't quite there, and a sort of hollow, not fully-filled-in-ness.

I liked this image - Christmas Day - mainly for the little birds on the grass, which I presume are robins, and the foreboding sky above, a real disjuncture from picture-postcard images of Christmas.



My favourite, however, was this image of a lamp, called New Years Eve. It made me think of how our homes are largely hollow, and we make them our own with our things, our stuff... this image is brought beyond a simple line drawing with some simple colour. Although, that lamp has seen better days...




Secondly, I saw Garry Fabian Miller's Time Passage at the James Hyman Gallery. Predominantly featuring darkroom-created photography, I liked these seascape and landscape images. I always enjoy seascapes because they're both abstract and specific - they could be anywhere and everywhere but are always somewhere.







Finally, I saw Sara Haq's landscapes at Alexia Goethe Gallery. Sara travelled overland from London to Phuket, and this exhibition showed snowy, desolate landscapes. I prefered the more abstract images such as these two.

Upstairs, a small installation showed 100 images from Sara's trip which I thought were more interesting than the largescale photographs - you really felt the excitement and wonder and minutaie of such an interesting journey.

Rebeca for Eurovision, again

Eurovision-watching is tough. Nevermind a three-hour contest, in the early months of the year, there are hundreds of songs to listen too.

Sadly, I've not heard many great songs lately. Spain, in particular, has been a mammoth task, with nearly 500 submitted songs.

One such song starts slow, like many of the others, and it's just another ballad amongst many.

BUT THEN

Disco beats kick in, and it's Rebeca with her umpteenth attempt at Eurovision, Se Me Olvído. I can just imagine the strutting, heels and hair. Ooh, there's a video - She's flouncing about with some sheets, and romping in a bed with two blokes. (although one of them doesn't seem bother'd).

Actually, I'm not sure this is her Eurovision song... but whatever, it's fabulous.

True or False Tour & London Historic Pubs Crawl

It was a colleague's birthday yesterday, and we all went on a pub crawl around some of London's historic pubs.

I had been tasked with devising an activity or game to make the night go with a bang. I thought up a True or False quiz, based on an idea by several bees.

Along the route at each pub, we stopped and heard two stories. I enlisted a helper to tell one story, and I told the other. One of us was telling the trute, and the other making it up.

The game was to guess which was which. If answered correctly, you got a prize.

Our route took us from legal Holborn through carvernous bars to religious Blackfriars:

• The Seven Stars
• The Citie of Yorke
• The Mitre Tavern
• Ye Olde Chesire Cheese
• The Blackfriars

Along the way we heard stories about telescopes, parrots, queens, bishops, mayors, egg-breaking and lots more interesting things. Some true, some false.

Happily, the audience was divided on every occasion as to what was true and what was false, leading to much spirited debate and laughter.

I thoroughly enjoyed devising this and learning more about history and trivia, and happily my colleague did too, sending me this message at the end of the evening: "Thanks so much for being such winning hosts! It was a great evening, beautifully orchestrated."

Finnish song from Ursula Under

I recently finished reading Ursula Under, a swirling novel which delves deep into the ancestry of a little girl trapped in a well. It's very fanciful, with stories about ancient China, a Swedish Queen and more. Most interesting are the episodes about Finnish migration to Michigan.

A short Finnish song sung by one character caught my eye...

"Life is as hard as the icy rock under the turf, and we slip on it sometimes, and then we get up to find life is as hard as the icy rock under the turf, and we slip on it sometimes, and then we get up..." and she sings it until she is laughing right through her tears."

Happy Christmas!

It's Christmas, and I'm in Ireland. Happy Christmas to one and all.

Mama Sweden map, by Joel

I am still continuing to ask European people to draw maps of their country. The latest candidate was Joel, a good friend from Sweden who has since moved back there.

Here's his drawing, emphasising Sweden, his motherland.

See all the drawings of Europe's country's maps here - or the stories of how I collected them here

On Chesil Beach... there's rubbish

On Friday, I took the train to Weymouth to visit Dorset's Jurassic coast, Portland Bill and Chesil Beach.

Chesil Beach is an amazing geographical and geological wonder - a huge, 18 mile long bank of pebbles which start out large and become smaller the further you walk along the beach.

I was very lucky to see a beautiful sunset from the beach.

The beach has become more popular recently with the publication of Ian McEwan's On Chesil Beach. Signs ask visitors not to take pebbles, but I noticed one family had commemorated their visit by writing on the pebbles.

I was less heartened to see, however, that rubbish is strewn all over the beach. This ranged from odd shoes, combs, plastic bottles, tin cans and drums to more natural detritus like wood and ropes.

It's a shame those signs that say 'don't take pebbles', don't also say 'but please take some rubbish away with you'.

That said, however this tin of pimento dulce (sweet paprika) intrigued me - had it floated all the way from Spain or Portugal?

Suddenly Last Summer

Years ago, in university, I was involved in a production of Tennessee William's play Suddenly Last Summer. I was very excited to hear that the BFI are holding a Tennessee Williams season at the moment, and went to see a film version of the play last night.

It was spectacular - Katherine Hepburn as the venomous yet fragile Violet and Elizabeth Taylor as the sultry yet disturbed Catherine.

One of the highlights was this scene - the first appearance of Violet, descending from above on her throne. It's camp, it's fabulous, and so very Tennessee Williams.

Girls Aloud are ace

There have been many excellent reviews of Girls Aloud's new album, Out of Control. I second everything they write. Lyrically, it's top-notch, and fabulous singing and vocal moments abound. Such as these ace bits:

• The Promise: Huge girlpop anthem, giving everyone a chance to be girlband fabulous. You're gonna make me, make me love you... and a massive key-change.
• The Loving Kind: Majestic, brittle, beautiful, making me wonder if love is all about the little things.
• Rolling back the rivers in time: Gone are the days of magic sings Nicola, directly referencing another of their songs, It's Magic
• Love is the Key: opposites attract, and now we're picking out the towels and curtains
• Turn to Stone: Electropop!
• Untouchable: Without any meaning, we're just skin and bone. Like beautiful robots, dancing alone. WOW.
• Fix Me Up: a plea for all my sexual healing sounding oh-so like "homosexual healing". You know, you go, girls.
• Love is Pain: oh oh oh oh Love is Pain oh oh oh oh you're insane oh oh oh oh
• Miss You Bow Wow: an ace title, and basically is 4 choruses (chorii?) strung together into one huge song. Massive sing-a-long I remember in one of these many chorus moments
• Revolution in the Head: Girls going dancehall. Gimme the ting, gimme the ting, gimme the oh oh oh - and making it work.
• Live in the Country: cow sounds! cat sounds! pig sounds! It's joyfully bonkers, and yet totally in Girls Aloud's oeuvre as a logical response to Swinging London Town
• We Wanna Party: It's vintage Aloud: we're-famous-and-fucked: disillusioned with my dreams, got life confused with my designer jeans.

Overall: a brilliant, grown-up, sonic and lyrically superb album with songs which both refer back to earlier songs and move their style onwards.

A Pop Quiz with Baccara

It's about time to have another quiz!

Here's a lovely song by those two Spanish senoritas, Baccara. They trill their way through Darling, purring oozy, schmoozie, floozie sentiments and (somehow) shoe-horning in a mention of Birmingham.

But there's one point where I have no idea what they're singing about.

In the chorus (after the Darling! Darling Darling! bits), they sing: "...and I imagine all the something we can do."

It begins - I think - with a G... but what is the something?

Make me laugh, make me cry, but please tell me. Fabulous prizes for those who answer.

My favourite Obama quote

I love this quote from Oprah Winfrey. It just sums up everything I'm thinking.

USA in London

Today is America's big day - the election of a new president. I've found the following American-themed places in London - a motley crew: a casino, a restaurant and plenty takeaways.

Vegas Casino, Islington

Montana Wines, Clerkenwell



Texas Embassy, near Trafalgar Square




Dallas Chicken in Vauxhall




Chicago Pizza & Friend Chicken, South Lambeth Road



Tennessee Fried Chicken, Lavender Hill