In January 2006 a whale visited London. It was a beautiful moment. We stopped work and watched the news, some people went to Thames-side to see it up close. It wasn't very happy and clearly in distress but I like to think that it could have been on a whale-holiday, a bit of sight-seeing before heading back to the sea.
A Trip to the Thames
Swimming against the tide.
Slipping through narrow channels.
The salty taste diminishing.
A bottle nose breach by Big Ben.
A discordant chime.
As the hour struck.
He sidled past a pleasure boat;
A group of Japanese tourists
Struck dumb at the sight.
All of London stopped.
Office workers delighted,
at the break from the day.
He slipped underwater,
Escaping the camera flashes
And helicopter drone.
He met some rowers at Richmond
And tried to keep the pace
But he was starting to flag.
Well-intentioned eco people
Pushed and shoved
And tried to help him feed.
But it was time to go
Back to the open sea
An end to the mini-adventure
Crowds surged to the Thames; London united; the day a whale came to town.
Sunday, 24 January 2010
Sunday, 17 January 2010
Walk No.6 - Trent Park
Date: 17th January 2009.
Weather: Dry, sunny, uplifting
Length: Difficult to say, but we walked for about an hour and a half (probably about 4 miles).
Trent Park is in London Borough of Enfield. It is apparently a surviving remnant of the Royal Hunting Forest of Enfield Chase. It covers some 413 ha and includes stretches of woodland (such as beech and oak), open meadow, amenity grassland, an animal hospital (donations welcome), an assault course and cafe.
I think it is my favourite London park for a number of reasons:
1) It's in Zone 6 and I love the fact that I can be in Zone 6 within thirty minutes and by public transport (Cockfosters, Piccadilly Line, turn right out of the station and you're there).
2) It forms part of London's Green Belt. One of the most ancient and enduring planning policy designations and Trent Park Park is proof of it's importance.
3) It's a 'proper' Country Park - once you're in it you can forget about London and get lost in the long grassland.
4) It has a great cafe. Like my friend said today some of the 1970s signage in there would sell for a packet in Shoreditch! It also does a nice bap and cup of tea.
5) It has nice views into London particularly when you emerge from some of the deeper woodland areas.
6) It always reminds me of happy, sunny days and doing active things with friends.
The end of the line
But the start of something wonderful
The main park thoroughfare: STOP
LISTEN
Happy birds sing
A frozen pond
Up the hill
In and out the beech forest
A view to the east through beech boughs.
Emerging at the assault course.
Amicable chat
Companionable silence
Long cafe queue
Desperate for tea
A lottery ticket for baps
And a jolly nice bakewell tart.
Weather: Dry, sunny, uplifting
Length: Difficult to say, but we walked for about an hour and a half (probably about 4 miles).
Trent Park is in London Borough of Enfield. It is apparently a surviving remnant of the Royal Hunting Forest of Enfield Chase. It covers some 413 ha and includes stretches of woodland (such as beech and oak), open meadow, amenity grassland, an animal hospital (donations welcome), an assault course and cafe.
I think it is my favourite London park for a number of reasons:
1) It's in Zone 6 and I love the fact that I can be in Zone 6 within thirty minutes and by public transport (Cockfosters, Piccadilly Line, turn right out of the station and you're there).
2) It forms part of London's Green Belt. One of the most ancient and enduring planning policy designations and Trent Park Park is proof of it's importance.
3) It's a 'proper' Country Park - once you're in it you can forget about London and get lost in the long grassland.
4) It has a great cafe. Like my friend said today some of the 1970s signage in there would sell for a packet in Shoreditch! It also does a nice bap and cup of tea.
5) It has nice views into London particularly when you emerge from some of the deeper woodland areas.
6) It always reminds me of happy, sunny days and doing active things with friends.
The end of the line
But the start of something wonderful
The main park thoroughfare: STOP
LISTEN
Happy birds sing
A frozen pond
Up the hill
In and out the beech forest
A view to the east through beech boughs.
Emerging at the assault course.
Amicable chat
Companionable silence
Long cafe queue
Desperate for tea
A lottery ticket for baps
And a jolly nice bakewell tart.
Guardian Travel Writer Competition 2008
I entered the Guardian Travel Writer Competition in 2008 on the basis of a trip I made to an eco-village in Spain for my 30th birthday in April of that year. Such a beautiful place, such nice people and so nice to turn thirty anonymously!
Sunseed Desert Technology
At the end of April this year I had just come out of an incredibly busy period at work. I was jaded, stressed and about to turn thirty. The prospect of another night of meaningless drinking in London didn't appeal and I racked my brain for a peaceful alternative to conventional birthday celebrations. My brother who is generally intuitive to my needs and desires suggested I visit a sustainable village in the Almerian dry lands of Southern Spain. Within two days I had checked out the website and signed up for a week in the wilderness.
Sunseed Desert Technology was set up in 1986 by an entrepreneurial British couple keen to develop and promote sustainable living. The couple bought up some land and property in an abandoned village in Almeria (many villages were deserted during Franco's reign as peasants flocked to the cities for work). The project now comprises four houses and is co-ordinated by a project manager and staff working in several key areas including dry land management, appropriate technology (think solar panels and human powered washing machines) and sustainable living (extolling the virtues of a semi-vegan diet; almost all food is grown on site).
The project depends on help and funding from volunteers. Volunteers (like myself) pay to visit and contribute to the growth and development of the community. If you are expecting five star accommodation then this is not for you; the rooms are spartan (yet with charm); but where else can you expect to be woken to the sounds of Spanish guitar playing, shower in water heated by the sun or be lucky enough to spot a wild boar on an early morning trudge to the community compost toilet?
I only spent a week at Sunseed; you can spend as long as you like, provided you have a long-term conservation project in mind. My week was spent outdoors in the spring sunshine undertaking a variety of practical tasks including planting potatoes and digging furrows. I spent my 30th dredging a channel to help the water supply flow more quickly. Not especially glamorous, but incredibly satisfying!
Volunteers are only expected to work in the mornings from 8-1pm and afternoons are your own. You could simply read a book, whilst occasionally admiring the verdant surroundings or go exploring and marvel at a land that time forgot, as you stumble across numerous deserted villages. One of my favourite afternoon pastimes was a visit to the outdoor pools - a bit like jumping into a basin of emerald green icicle pops - yes freezing but refreshing after a hard day's graft in the hot sun.
And of course you are ultimately living as part of a community, sharing food, passions and laughter. Mealtimes were special - the food was plentiful and delicious and the company was sparkling.
I spent my 30th birthday night attending an impromptu ceilidh in the village grounds (I am Scottish as well as an eco-type); the stars were out and a nightingale sang and there wasn't a drop of alcohol in sight!
Getting there - Sunseed lies around 7km from the village of Sorbas. The nearest international airports are Malaga and Almeria. A regular bus service runs from Almeria to Sorbas and takes about an hour. You can pick up a taxi in Sorbas to Los Molinos where the project is based. As Sunseed is striving to be as sustainable as possible, discounts on your stay are available if you travel overland.
Sunseed Desert Technology
At the end of April this year I had just come out of an incredibly busy period at work. I was jaded, stressed and about to turn thirty. The prospect of another night of meaningless drinking in London didn't appeal and I racked my brain for a peaceful alternative to conventional birthday celebrations. My brother who is generally intuitive to my needs and desires suggested I visit a sustainable village in the Almerian dry lands of Southern Spain. Within two days I had checked out the website and signed up for a week in the wilderness.
Sunseed Desert Technology was set up in 1986 by an entrepreneurial British couple keen to develop and promote sustainable living. The couple bought up some land and property in an abandoned village in Almeria (many villages were deserted during Franco's reign as peasants flocked to the cities for work). The project now comprises four houses and is co-ordinated by a project manager and staff working in several key areas including dry land management, appropriate technology (think solar panels and human powered washing machines) and sustainable living (extolling the virtues of a semi-vegan diet; almost all food is grown on site).
The project depends on help and funding from volunteers. Volunteers (like myself) pay to visit and contribute to the growth and development of the community. If you are expecting five star accommodation then this is not for you; the rooms are spartan (yet with charm); but where else can you expect to be woken to the sounds of Spanish guitar playing, shower in water heated by the sun or be lucky enough to spot a wild boar on an early morning trudge to the community compost toilet?
I only spent a week at Sunseed; you can spend as long as you like, provided you have a long-term conservation project in mind. My week was spent outdoors in the spring sunshine undertaking a variety of practical tasks including planting potatoes and digging furrows. I spent my 30th dredging a channel to help the water supply flow more quickly. Not especially glamorous, but incredibly satisfying!
Volunteers are only expected to work in the mornings from 8-1pm and afternoons are your own. You could simply read a book, whilst occasionally admiring the verdant surroundings or go exploring and marvel at a land that time forgot, as you stumble across numerous deserted villages. One of my favourite afternoon pastimes was a visit to the outdoor pools - a bit like jumping into a basin of emerald green icicle pops - yes freezing but refreshing after a hard day's graft in the hot sun.
And of course you are ultimately living as part of a community, sharing food, passions and laughter. Mealtimes were special - the food was plentiful and delicious and the company was sparkling.
I spent my 30th birthday night attending an impromptu ceilidh in the village grounds (I am Scottish as well as an eco-type); the stars were out and a nightingale sang and there wasn't a drop of alcohol in sight!
Getting there - Sunseed lies around 7km from the village of Sorbas. The nearest international airports are Malaga and Almeria. A regular bus service runs from Almeria to Sorbas and takes about an hour. You can pick up a taxi in Sorbas to Los Molinos where the project is based. As Sunseed is striving to be as sustainable as possible, discounts on your stay are available if you travel overland.
Saturday, 16 January 2010
Writing Class - Spring 2009
I attended an evening writing class in Spring 2009. On a Friday night(!). After the initial worries of losing out on 10 weeks of Friday evenings, it turned out to be an amazing reawakening of my creative juices. So nice to use my brain differently - from system ruled project manager to free thinker. I have included a couple of the pieces I wrote.
Haringey Local Gazette, Thursday 5th February 2009: The Swan Story
On Sunday the 1st of February a swan crash landed on Pemberton Road, a residential street which forms part of the 'Harringay Ladders'. The bird, a male mute swan, was attempting to join his mate on the New River. In the two hours of panic that ensued the swan succeeded in blocking all traffic from entering Green Lanes, but also served to reunite locals on the street (last seen during the Queen's Coronation).
Pemberton Road is usually a quiet, uneventful residential street, home to young families, professionals, Eastern Europeans and the odd student. It runs perpendicular to both Wightman Road and Green Lanes, the latter being a thriving hub of authentic kebab shops and Turkish Food Markets. The New River (constructed in the 17th century to bring clean water to Londoners from Ware in Hertfordshire) runs under most of the Ladders, occasionally poking out at an open stretch. For swans and other wildlife the river provides a nice spot for a swim amongst the densely packed Victorian terraces.
Pemberton Road residents such as Antim Dimova (who lives at number 28) were surprised to see a swan swaggering over the speed bumps. "I was amazed to see this plucky little swan waddling towards me. His wings were out and he was flapping like mad and seemed to be foaming at the mouth. A bit stressed out I think. There were loads of people around trying to help him because he was making his way down to Green Lanes. The cars would have minced him up.."
Klare Kennett from the South East Regional Office of the RSPCA stated that "Swans crash landing is a common occurrence and one of the main reasons why we get called out for rescue. They misjudge the landing and mistake road markings for water."
Interestingly, swans need rescuing for all sorts of reasons - they often fly into electric cables (they're big birds so changing direction at speed is difficult) and young birds often eat too much rich food developing a condition called 'Angel Wing' (where their wings develop too quickly and eventually they cannot fly). Perhaps the most intriguing swan story concerns the mysterious disappearance of swans in certain parts of London. This has been linked to the eating habits of certain groups of asylum seekers. Klare is keen to emphasise the lack of evidence to fully support such allegations. However, the declining swan numbers remain a mystery.
At least in this part of London the ending was a happy one. Eventually a 'man with a van' appeared, the man being John Davidson from North London Swan Rescue. The swan was captured safely and bundled into the van. When John left him he was enjoying some time at the boating lake at Alexandra Palace. For the residents of Pemberton Road it proved an exciting afternoons' entertainment. As Antim said "You don't see that every day and I actually got to meet a load of my neighbours for the first time".
An Assault on Free Speech: 12th February 2009
Free speech. The freedom to speak in a democratic society. A basic human right in the free world. As British Citizens we have always prided ourselves on the notion that we are free to say whatever we like when we like. But a series of recent cases has raised questions about how freely we really can talk and the parameters under which this freedom sits - Jonathan Ross returns to work at the BBC after a lengthy absence for offending Andrew Sach's granddaughter (and within hours offends an elderly neighbour), Carole Thatcher is sacked from the One Show for calling a tennis player a 'golliwog' and a Dutch MP is banned from entering this country because a film he made unashamedly bashes Islam.
In each case a single group is offended: the elderly (following Jonathan Ross's most recent gaffe), blacks in the case of Carole Thatcher and Muslims in relation to the Dutch MP. The difference is in the nature of the response. Ross, one of the BBC's most popular figureheads, is slapped on the wrist for latest schoolboy error (it's ok if he slips up occasionally as the punters keep coming back for more); Carole Thatcher is sacked outright (some might argue unfairly as the comment was made in the Green Room, off air, but still ostensibly on BBC territory), and the repatriation of MP Geert Wilders smacks of desperation and hypocrisy when one considers the outcry twenty years ago when Salmand Rushdie's 'Satanic Versus' was condemned by the Muslim World.
So what is acceptable and what is not and do we have the right to offend and be offended? The answer to the latter question is, in my opinion, yes. I reserve the right to offend and by the same token I accept that I may on occasion be offended. Of course what offends me and what offends someone else is likely to be entirely different. And herein lies the crux of the matter; it is incredibly difficult to set parameters for acceptability in speech and language and once set rights and freedoms slowly become eroded. Interested groups and individuals begin to chip away at the boundaries so that everyone comes to fear the words they use.
Words are a gift. They can inspire a nation, they can move one to tears and bring joy to our hearts. But, when abused they can lead to frustration, anger, humiliation and drive people to unspeakable acts of cruelty. I remain in awe of the power of speech, real honest truths spoken from our core and I would rather face and debate the threat of offensive language than lose the right to speak freely. I consider this my right as a British Citizen. A right I am proud to stand up and fight for.
Haringey Local Gazette, Thursday 5th February 2009: The Swan Story
On Sunday the 1st of February a swan crash landed on Pemberton Road, a residential street which forms part of the 'Harringay Ladders'. The bird, a male mute swan, was attempting to join his mate on the New River. In the two hours of panic that ensued the swan succeeded in blocking all traffic from entering Green Lanes, but also served to reunite locals on the street (last seen during the Queen's Coronation).
Pemberton Road is usually a quiet, uneventful residential street, home to young families, professionals, Eastern Europeans and the odd student. It runs perpendicular to both Wightman Road and Green Lanes, the latter being a thriving hub of authentic kebab shops and Turkish Food Markets. The New River (constructed in the 17th century to bring clean water to Londoners from Ware in Hertfordshire) runs under most of the Ladders, occasionally poking out at an open stretch. For swans and other wildlife the river provides a nice spot for a swim amongst the densely packed Victorian terraces.
Pemberton Road residents such as Antim Dimova (who lives at number 28) were surprised to see a swan swaggering over the speed bumps. "I was amazed to see this plucky little swan waddling towards me. His wings were out and he was flapping like mad and seemed to be foaming at the mouth. A bit stressed out I think. There were loads of people around trying to help him because he was making his way down to Green Lanes. The cars would have minced him up.."
Klare Kennett from the South East Regional Office of the RSPCA stated that "Swans crash landing is a common occurrence and one of the main reasons why we get called out for rescue. They misjudge the landing and mistake road markings for water."
Interestingly, swans need rescuing for all sorts of reasons - they often fly into electric cables (they're big birds so changing direction at speed is difficult) and young birds often eat too much rich food developing a condition called 'Angel Wing' (where their wings develop too quickly and eventually they cannot fly). Perhaps the most intriguing swan story concerns the mysterious disappearance of swans in certain parts of London. This has been linked to the eating habits of certain groups of asylum seekers. Klare is keen to emphasise the lack of evidence to fully support such allegations. However, the declining swan numbers remain a mystery.
At least in this part of London the ending was a happy one. Eventually a 'man with a van' appeared, the man being John Davidson from North London Swan Rescue. The swan was captured safely and bundled into the van. When John left him he was enjoying some time at the boating lake at Alexandra Palace. For the residents of Pemberton Road it proved an exciting afternoons' entertainment. As Antim said "You don't see that every day and I actually got to meet a load of my neighbours for the first time".
An Assault on Free Speech: 12th February 2009
Free speech. The freedom to speak in a democratic society. A basic human right in the free world. As British Citizens we have always prided ourselves on the notion that we are free to say whatever we like when we like. But a series of recent cases has raised questions about how freely we really can talk and the parameters under which this freedom sits - Jonathan Ross returns to work at the BBC after a lengthy absence for offending Andrew Sach's granddaughter (and within hours offends an elderly neighbour), Carole Thatcher is sacked from the One Show for calling a tennis player a 'golliwog' and a Dutch MP is banned from entering this country because a film he made unashamedly bashes Islam.
In each case a single group is offended: the elderly (following Jonathan Ross's most recent gaffe), blacks in the case of Carole Thatcher and Muslims in relation to the Dutch MP. The difference is in the nature of the response. Ross, one of the BBC's most popular figureheads, is slapped on the wrist for latest schoolboy error (it's ok if he slips up occasionally as the punters keep coming back for more); Carole Thatcher is sacked outright (some might argue unfairly as the comment was made in the Green Room, off air, but still ostensibly on BBC territory), and the repatriation of MP Geert Wilders smacks of desperation and hypocrisy when one considers the outcry twenty years ago when Salmand Rushdie's 'Satanic Versus' was condemned by the Muslim World.
So what is acceptable and what is not and do we have the right to offend and be offended? The answer to the latter question is, in my opinion, yes. I reserve the right to offend and by the same token I accept that I may on occasion be offended. Of course what offends me and what offends someone else is likely to be entirely different. And herein lies the crux of the matter; it is incredibly difficult to set parameters for acceptability in speech and language and once set rights and freedoms slowly become eroded. Interested groups and individuals begin to chip away at the boundaries so that everyone comes to fear the words they use.
Words are a gift. They can inspire a nation, they can move one to tears and bring joy to our hearts. But, when abused they can lead to frustration, anger, humiliation and drive people to unspeakable acts of cruelty. I remain in awe of the power of speech, real honest truths spoken from our core and I would rather face and debate the threat of offensive language than lose the right to speak freely. I consider this my right as a British Citizen. A right I am proud to stand up and fight for.
Monday, 11 January 2010
Snow Days
Makeshift sleighs
Snowmen in all shapes and sizes
Half frozen lakes, treacherous waters
Snow glare
Winter smiles
Double bobbled woolly hats
Snaky scarves
Fingerless gloves
Amorphous mittens
Red faces
Unsteady gait
Bright eyes
Hungry birds
Snow-laden trees
Slushy roads
Backward slipping cars
No glut grit
Perilous icicles
Hidden paths
A reason for thermals
Hot chocolate
Safe indoors
Sleep under layers
Snowmen in all shapes and sizes
Half frozen lakes, treacherous waters
Snow glare
Winter smiles
Double bobbled woolly hats
Snaky scarves
Fingerless gloves
Amorphous mittens
Red faces
Unsteady gait
Bright eyes
Hungry birds
Snow-laden trees
Slushy roads
Backward slipping cars
No glut grit
Perilous icicles
Hidden paths
A reason for thermals
Hot chocolate
Safe indoors
Sleep under layers
Saturday, 9 January 2010
On Liberty
On Liberty
It is to see outside the box.
The bigger picture.
The blue sky.
Free from convention; full of ideas.
It is dense cumulus cloud cover.
Layers of precipitation.
And then a ray of light.
Free from thick skies; an opening.
It is walking through mist.
Bent down by prevailing winds.
And then a rewarding view.
Free from fog; an end to the means.
It is longing for leisure.
Downtime, chill time.
And then a desire to work.
Free from endless philosophical questions.
It is heart-wrenching love.
Then long stretches alone.
And then happy love again.
Free from past loves; a focus on the future.
It is childhood.
Then adulthood.
And then a glorious march into old age.
Free from early stage angst; wise and content.
It is to see outside the box.
The bigger picture.
The blue sky.
Free from convention; full of ideas.
It is dense cumulus cloud cover.
Layers of precipitation.
And then a ray of light.
Free from thick skies; an opening.
It is walking through mist.
Bent down by prevailing winds.
And then a rewarding view.
Free from fog; an end to the means.
It is longing for leisure.
Downtime, chill time.
And then a desire to work.
Free from endless philosophical questions.
It is heart-wrenching love.
Then long stretches alone.
And then happy love again.
Free from past loves; a focus on the future.
It is childhood.
Then adulthood.
And then a glorious march into old age.
Free from early stage angst; wise and content.
Saturday, 2 January 2010
Walk No.5 - Blackheath to North Greenwich
Walk No.5 - Blackheath to North Greenwich
Date: 2nd January 2010.
Weather: Sunny, very cold, dry.
Distance: c.7 miles
Today's walk came from Mike Bigg's (of London Ramblers fame) list of self-guided walks in London. Today is the 2nd of January and now firmly within a new year and new decade. Today I persuaded a new friend to walk with me. We both had new years hangovers to dispense with (mine was on a momentous scale this year).
Greenwich is somewhere I do not know well, but I'm now involved in work for Greenwich Borough and my recent interest in stars has fuelled an interest of sorts (the park is home to the Royal Observatory although we didn't visit it on this occasion). We started at Blackheath Village and crossed the heath to enter Greenwich Park. It is a Royal Park and a World Heritage Site and will host the 2012 three day equestrian event. Like all Royal Parks, it has a well maintained feel to it. It is also surprisingly up and down with rewarding views of London's cityscape from the hilltop by the General Wolfe Statue.
Whilst the park is lovely, I think Greenwich becomes more interesting when you get down to riverside level. It is truly contrasting. Picking up the Thames National Trail you pass aggregate workings, the millennium dome, metal art works, Greenwich 'eco village' and huge transport infrastructure (the blackwall tunnel). It doesn't feel connected though. All these new things and old industry sit at odds.
You can see the Thames Tidal Barrier in the distance and Canary Wharf across the river. With the sun glinting at high tide on the river, there was a certain charm. But we were left with the feeling that this is not really London. It seems to far removed from all I know. But, then what do I know, I'm just a blinkered north Londoner.
Date: 2nd January 2010.
Weather: Sunny, very cold, dry.
Distance: c.7 miles
Today's walk came from Mike Bigg's (of London Ramblers fame) list of self-guided walks in London. Today is the 2nd of January and now firmly within a new year and new decade. Today I persuaded a new friend to walk with me. We both had new years hangovers to dispense with (mine was on a momentous scale this year).
Greenwich is somewhere I do not know well, but I'm now involved in work for Greenwich Borough and my recent interest in stars has fuelled an interest of sorts (the park is home to the Royal Observatory although we didn't visit it on this occasion). We started at Blackheath Village and crossed the heath to enter Greenwich Park. It is a Royal Park and a World Heritage Site and will host the 2012 three day equestrian event. Like all Royal Parks, it has a well maintained feel to it. It is also surprisingly up and down with rewarding views of London's cityscape from the hilltop by the General Wolfe Statue.
Whilst the park is lovely, I think Greenwich becomes more interesting when you get down to riverside level. It is truly contrasting. Picking up the Thames National Trail you pass aggregate workings, the millennium dome, metal art works, Greenwich 'eco village' and huge transport infrastructure (the blackwall tunnel). It doesn't feel connected though. All these new things and old industry sit at odds.
You can see the Thames Tidal Barrier in the distance and Canary Wharf across the river. With the sun glinting at high tide on the river, there was a certain charm. But we were left with the feeling that this is not really London. It seems to far removed from all I know. But, then what do I know, I'm just a blinkered north Londoner.
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