31.10.2002 - In the days before colour...
There was a CD of Sixties pop songs playing in work this morning. I mentioned that some of the songs were such classics. This was met with general head nodding and then someone piped up, "What did you dance like in the Sixties?" I took a breath and explained that I was only eight years old when the Sixties became the Seventies.
Throughout the day, however, I've been thinking about what I can remember of this decade. Born in 1962, I have no memory of Kennedy's assassination, the Fab Four's meteoric rise, Wilson's Government, the moon landing etc. etc... In fact I have virtually no memory of anything that this decade has subsequently become known for.
I don't think I had a particularly bad time during my first eight years. For a working class family I believe we were fairly comfortably off and I don't remember ever wanting for anything. It was, however, a world of lino and peeling wallpaper, pokey corner shops and rusty Bedford vans, heavy black bakelite phones and solid dark wooden furniture. It was an old fashioned world, even back then.
My memory is not of the youth revolutions happening in Carnaby street; I was too young. My memory is nearer to an old episode of Coronation Street. For a start it's in black and white. I have no recollection of any colour and the few colour photographs that I have seen of me and my surroundings from this time look very odd indeed. My mind picture is monochrome and colour seems false, forced and alien. This picture is also a very gloomy picture and it is constantly drizzling and cold.
It all seems very drab and depressing and very grimy and grim, especially when I compare it to my memories of the Seventies which sparkles in glorious Technicolor and the sun is always shining.
link | so... tell me
30.10.2002 - Ghoti...
Many know ghoti as an alternative spelling of fish and how George Bernard Shaw is reputed to have used it as an example to demonstrate the downright bizarre spelling littered throughout British English. I say British English because the Americans have gone some way to ironing out some of it's more perverted offerings. Myself, I quite like the quirky spellings that pepper the English language; I think they make it a more interesting language and very often help plot its etymology. But then, I'm not a foreigner trying to wrestle with what must seem like the nightmare that is my mother tongue.
It seems that now spelling and grammar checkers are being blamed for bad English in the way that calculators used to be blamed for falling standards in mathematics. Doris Lessing, no less, blames cutbacks in the publishing world for the slip-ups in her latest literary offering. And there's someone trying to take all the fun out of it by simplifying spelling of British English at a website called Freespel.
Read all about it here and snigger at those slip-ups here.
link | so... tell me
29.10.2002 - We cannot have our leaders endorsing immorality...
You can expect more stories like this as Dr Rowan Williams prepares to take office as the next Archbishop of Canterbury.
link | so... tell me
28.10.2002 - Life changing...
D'you know when a film or book or piece of music comes along and changes your life thereafter; one minute you're going this way and next minute you're going that way (or maybe you're still going this way but you certainly see the world differently). It's different things for different people. The things that have changed my life in that way are Bowie's Ziggy Stardust incarnation, Bertolt Brecht, Peter Greenaway's films, Isherwood's Berlin novels, Bob Fosse's film version of Cabaret, the recent revival of the stage musical Chicago. I can remember the first time I experienced each one of them. All of them have changed my life.
Last night it happened again. Now I know this will be no news to many of you; I've read your views about this film on some of your blogs and I know you're already big fans but... Isn't Hedwig And The Angry Inch totally and absolutely wonderful! Why didn't one of you make me go out and see/buy/steal this film? Why wasn't it explained to me how it would change things?
So here goes, I'm telling you now - BUY IT!!!
link | so... tell me
27.10.2002 - Freak show...
I found an item in the news today about two Welsh actors involved in helping the launch of a charity helping people with spinal injuries. The story at BBC Wales reports, "Top Welsh actors Ioan Gruffudd and Matthew Rhys will head the guest list at a charity ball to help people with spinal injuries. The charity, called Trust PA, is being launched at a gala ball in Cardiff in memory of a young rugby player who was paralysed in a rugby match and later died."
Admirable!
The report continues, "Paul Andre Blundell - known as PA - was a former Wales under-19 player who died in January five months after suffering spinal injuries while playing in a rugby game. Matthew Rhys had known PA since the age of five when they met in primary school. His fellow actor Ioan Gruffudd met PA when they played rugby together. Both agreed to be official patrons of the trust."
Marvellous!
On it goes, "The pair are good friends, and former flatmates - they have even played a gay couple in the film Very Annie Mary."
Duh?!?
What are the BBC trying to say? What has the fact that they "even played a gay couple" got to do with this story? Is the BBC trying to describe the strength of their friendship or are there doubts about their sexuality being hinted at or was their friendship tested in having to be intimate with one another by playing a gay couple? What are the BBC trying to say and what relevence does it have to the rest of the story? It's sloppy and misleading journalism.
On another level I really hate this kind of attitude where people think that straight actors playing gay is such a triumph. Yeah? What about the gay actors who play straight all the time? And another thing that bugs me is when the media describe the breadth of an actor's skill and talent by listing gay characters played alongside murderers played and mentally and physically disabled characters played. Is that how we see gay people and disabled people; alongside murderers?
It's the freak show mentality.
link | so... tell me
26.10.2002 - Make a difference...
I once saw an interview given by Maya Angelou where she argued that you have to challenge racist remarks each and every time you hear them. Only this way can racism be defeated, she reasoned. She suggested that here lay the greatest challenges in the fight against racism.
It's not good enough to allow such intolerant and bigoted remarks to pass with a shrug. How many times have you heard them, "I'm not racist but..." and "Some of my best friends are black..." Do I challenge the racists and their apologists each and every time? No... But maybe I should; we all should; each and every one of us. And not just the racists but anyone who expresses intolerance and hatred of people simply because of their colour, gender, sexuality, age, etc. etc.
I was reading Anil's blog the other day where he describes prejudice that he's experienced recently. Also, you can read Tom's reaction to and thoughts on Anil's account here.
It's the persistent challenges by ordinary people like them and like you and like me that changes this shitty world.
link | so... tell me
25.10.2002 - Open court...
Much fuss around yesterday's inadvertant naming of John Leslie as the television presenter said to be at the centre of rape allegations made by Ulrika Jonsson.
And so the trial by tabloid continues. Surely this can't be right. If he committed this act then he deserves just punishment but can I remind everyone that his guilt has yet to be proved. A small point but, I feel, an important one.
link | so... tell me
24.10.2002 - Hello and goodbye...
Hello to Frankie who has set up temporary office with Jhames this week. Hello to Yann Martel who won the Man Booker Prize 23.10.2002 - As Mr Ray Davies of the Kinks once sang...
They seek him here, they seek him thereHis clothes are loud but never square
It will make or break him
So he's got to buy the best
'Cos he's a dedicated follower of fashion
And when he does his little rounds
In the boutiques of London town
Eagerly pursuing all the latest fads and trends
'Cos he's a dedicated follower of fashion
Oh yes he is (Oh yes he is)
Oh yes he is (Oh yes he is)
He thinks he is a flower to be looked at
And when he pulls his frilly nylon panties right up tight
He feels a dedicated follower of fashion
Oh yes he is (Oh yes he is)
Oh yes he is (Oh yes he is)...
...What's happened to Mr Gumola? Also on my mind... This disturbing report with some interesting thoughts by Neohomo. Also... Which musician is Chig referring to here when he says that they, "stayed one night in our student house that very same year, shagging one of Chig's flatmates as the rest of us gathered in another room and…er…listened"? Also... I keep coming across this guy, if not on other bloggers pages then via e-mails from curious yankees - I can't imagine why. And lastly... How many of you would have a permenantly dripping tap with a plumber like Peter's...? link | so... tell me
22.10.2002 - Bloody typical...
Now that the DVD player the bf bought me is here and I'm really settling in to my life as a couch potato, what happens...? Yep, the bloody telly goes on the blink! Well, it's not actually died yet but it's life is fast fading away. The picture just grows darker day by day. All you can see are strange shadowy figures lurking in a gloomy netherworld - and that was Songs Of Praise.
With the idea of buying a new TV I went into Dixons this morning. I'd no intention of buying from them as I know I can get better deals online but I just wanted to see the TVs in real life. A friendly salesman tried to help me by offering to answer any questions I might have. Trouble is, every question was answered by reading out the features of each TV from its display card. I thought, "I can do that!"
Just as I was thinking, "What do they pay these people for?" I got the answer as the salesman launched into the wonders manifold of taking out their 5 year additional protection package. And would he take no for answer? After several attempts at telling him that I wasn't interested, I backed out of the shop leaving him talking to the space I'd vacated.
Shame really. It doesn't exactly encourage you to buy from them.
link | so... tell me
21.10.2002 - Real men don't cry...
I watched the remaining episodes of Queer As Folk this morning. I must say that I quite enjoyed it and wouldn't mind getting the 2nd series on DVD. I bought it because I felt I should see it and everyone seems to rave on about it... I was a little sceptical at first but quite enjoyed it in the end. I must've engaged with it on some level because I cried at the end. Having said that I cry at most things nowadays. Wasn't it only Saturday that I cried at the end of Amelie...
I used to find it so difficult to cry but as I get older I find that I'm often moved to tears. I used to think that I was so cold and uncaring because I never felt anything close to tears; I never got emotional; it seemed I was never moved by anything. And there were times when I believe I should've been moved. Today, anything can make me go; old photographs, the news, sounds, smells, colours... anything. Happy or sad, I just start to blub.
As an actor I would have paid good money to be as in touch with my emotions as I am now. Crying on stage is always a difficulty, especially when you have to fall back on tricks because there's no emotional through line. I read books on the subject but, with the exception of one production, never managed it. If only I knew then what I know now I could've stood there, centre stage, and openly wept.
Nowadays, the bf pulls my leg over my ability to cry. I remember him catching me weeping a few months ago; I was ironing and watching the Coronation Street omnibus - who needs a steam iron! And all the bf has to do is say that he loves me and my eyes grow moist and within seconds my face is wet with tears. If ever they make it an olympic event...
I must admit that I quite enjoy it. The best thing about crying is the feeling of relief I feel afterwards. It's like the air after a big thunder storm. Everything feels cleaner and fresher. All my stress and angst gets washed away with my tears. It's like the world is renewed. Try it...
link | so... tell me
20.10.2002 - Making sense...
I've seen the last hour only of too many films to name. I switch on the TV and it's in full swing. I haven't a clue what it is but it grabs my attention and so I sit down and watch it. North By Northwest is one such film or, I should say, was until Friday night. I bought the DVD in a sale a couple of days ago and watched it with the bf on Friday night. Of course, it all makes sense now that I've seen the beginning.
Last night we watched Amelie which is wonderfully quirky, silly, playful and heartbreaking. I'd sort of heard about it a while ago and then I read that Bart had loved it and so bought it on the strength of that. I cried at the end partly because of the film and partly because I'd had a row with the bf earlier in the day. The film sort of made a lot of sense in the light of that.
By coincidence, Bart heard yesterday that he will be able to study in Paris (Amelie's setting) early next year. Watch the film; you'll want to go there too.
link | so... tell me
19.10.2002 - 1977 + 2002...
Both years boasted Labour Governments, Royal Jubilees and (it seems) strike action by firemen. Can anyone think of any other similarities between these two years?
Answers on a postcard please...
...And while you're pondering that, the great British public have been busy voting for their Great Britons. Personally, I'm pleased to see that Julie Andrews and Cliff Richard made it to the top 100...?!?!
link | so... tell me
18.10.2002 - Otherwise occupied...
Today I'm busy playing with my new DVD player and so I can't be bothered to wrench my heart onto a plate for you. Instead I offer you a few nibbles to keep you going...- Yesterday the Man Booker Prize announced that Yann Martel for his novel Life of Pi to be this year's winner, although the judges aren't due to meet until next Tuesday.
- A 73 year old woman who lost her bus pass had it returned by the bus company including a note describing her as a miserable old cow.
- A 32 year old German has been detained in custody after biting his dog on the nose. I suppose it's too much to hope that this man's job is a shepherd?
17.10.2002 - What the public wants...
This is what brings the great unwashed sniffing round my door:- This and this and this and this and this all relate to searches for Frank Bough over the past few days. Why's he so popular all of a sudden? Is there a Frank Bough festival happening somewhere?
- Somebody's looking for Quentin Hogg, aka Lord Hailsham. Not many people know this but I once slept in the same bed as Lord Hailsham - not at the same time, I admit, but it's almost gossip.
- Someone doing research on miners chewing underground or perhaps they meant minors chewing underground?? It's a disgusting habit above or below ground.
- Gay teens und... Gay teens und... what? ...und straight teens? ...und Frank Bough?
- Marylin Monroe painting ...her nails? ...the front of her house? What? I do wish people would finish their sentences!
- A German looking for a cheap haircut in Cardiff. Good luck but he'll probably find the flight costs prohibitive.
- Another German (or maybe the same) looking for x-ray castration. Not in Cardiff, I hope! Wierd!
- And from the wierd to the perverse, someone interested in Edwina Currie naked. Hey, John Major's visited my blog!
- And remember, it's female impersonator and not drag queen, glamorous or otherwise.
16.10.2002 - Missing it all...
I bought the first series of The Office on DVD the other day and I'm watching it with my sweater pulled up over my face and my legs tightly knotted, cringing and laughing and taking regular breaks to breathe. Wonderful. I missed most of it when it was broadcast. The second series started whilst I was away and so I've not managed to catch any of that yet. Has anybody seen it and what do you think?
Today I bought Queer As Folk for a bargain, knock down, give away price at HMV. I've managed to miss it everytime it's been aired (Call yourself gay?) so I thought it's high time.. so I did!
Other things I've missed? Well there's this, which most of you'll have seen years ago but which I think's pretty cool, and these via... oh now, I can't remember on which blog I found this link...
(I think they call this presenility.)
link | so... tell me
15.10.2002 - O Lord..!
Now, a few months ago I made several mentions about Dr Rowan Williams, the next Archbishop of Canterbury. I predicted that his liberal views were likely to cause a bit of upset among the Anglican community. Hey Presto! Here we go...
- Clergy in one of London's parishes are to turn down their Church salaries in protest at the next Archbishop of Canterbury's liberal views on homosexuality. The Rev William Taylor, the evangelical rector of St Helen's Bishopsgate in the City of London, said on Sunday that Dr Rowan William's views were immoral and he expected other parishes in the country to follow suit and speak out. Rev Taylor, 41, and three fellow clergy will be paid directly by their congregation and not by the Church. In a sermon to his congregation, which he then emailed to Dr Williams, Taylor said homosexuality was immoral and that, citing medical opinion, the human body was not designed for gay sex.
14.10.2002 - Oooh, suits you sir...
What's happened? Everybody's gone and redesigned their sites again. Very nice most are too but I can't keep up with this. You go away for a few days and all of a sudden it's all change. Here are some examples of the new season's collection:- Jhames
- Unprotected Text
- Photojunkie
- Wah (but then he's always changing his design - pretty as they are)
- East/West
- Bob Upndown
- Jonno
- Rhinoceros
- Goluboy (or is it 2xy or perhaps Jerwin?? Anyway, it's under new management again...)
13.10.2002 - Homeward bound...
Today we're travelling back home. It takes about 12 hours, door to door. I'd like to have stayed a bit longer but the bf has to be back in work tomorrow. I've got another ten days before I'm due back - I'd rather spend them in Denmark than in Wales.
I hate the journey home after being on holiday; I hate the train which seems to chug along at a snail's pace and I hate the coach from the airport once we've landed. It's all so different from the journey out. The only good bit is the flight which I still get excited about.
It's at times like this that wished I lived here. We've considered moving to Denmark many times (and I suppose it's still on the cards). I know the bf's parents are in favour of this but the bf feels that it would be a step backwards for him. I think the country has lots to offer and (assuming I could find work here) I think I'd enjoy my life in Denmark. If for no other reason, just think how much closer I'd be to German supermarkets - you can't beat 'em.
Take for example Zentralmarkt; it's got everything - a bakery, a butchers, a pharmarcy and also cheap booze and a cafeteria that serves weiner schnitzel. It's truly wonderful. You just don't get anything that compares with its kind in the UK. And the people that go there; I could watch them all day... I'd better stop now before I get too excited!
link | so... tell me
12.10.2002 - And now over to our resident sand expert...
We spent yesterday at the beach. "At the beach! In October?" I hear you say. Yep, at the beach in October.
The beach in question is on the nearby island of Rømø. It's huge expanse of sand occupies the whole western North Sea facing side of the island. Here you'll find people out walking their dogs, searching for amber and flying kites in the strong winds that constantly sand blast everything.
The bf and I simply walked and took photos of the strange patterns the wind formed in the sand. The sand has a curious blue tinge which we think is because of the high concentration of shell debris present. It's a colour I've not seen before in sand. You've got to admit it does look... well... pretty...
link | so... tell me
11.10.2002 - It's all in the mind...
Yesterday we went clothes shopping at the Kolding Store Center. We didn't buy any. I did see a pair of Jack Jones cord trousers but decided to go away and "think about it." This method of shopping doesn't work for me. I'm an impulse buyer and if I think about a purchase I can usually talk myself out of buying it. I now wish I had just bought them. I have seen them locally but they probably won't have my size. I'll try later today.
Last night we visited a 90 year old neighbour of the bf's. When she was in her 20's she moved to London to work as a maid for a family living in Ealing in London. This she did for two years just before the war. She was full of stories from this time and for a 90 year old was very lively indeed. Her English was excellent despite limited opportunities to practice since 1939 and her mind was sharp. I'd be happy with her energy levels at 40 - Oh, I am 40... Oh shit!
link | so... tell me
10.10.2002 - Perfect...
I had a really lovely day yesterday. It didn't feel like a big celebration at all - which is exactly what I wanted. I just did the things I wanted to do.
After a lazy late start, the bf and I went to the local bar for lunch and then back to the house for cake - I got a birthday cake for the first time in about 30 years! In the evening the bf and his parents took me out for a meal and then we returned home for more cake. I went to bed (sober, I'm pleased to say) after this, leaving them talking and drinking red wine until the early hours.
The bf's getting me a DVD player for my birthday which I'm really excited about - no more crouching over the laptop with my headphones on. His parents gave me a set of silver cufflinks that they made. I think they're beautiful. You can see examples of their other work here. Now taking orders for Christmas...
link | so... tell me
09.10.2002 - Nineteen-sixty-two...
It was the year that Marylin Monroe died, the Beatles released their debut single, Love Me Do and Uganda gained independence. Oh, and I was born...
Down the years I've always been happy with the age I am and how I feel. This year has been somewhat different and I'm not altogether certain I enjoy being 40. No matter how much I've tried to forget it, no matter how much I've tried to ignore its significance it just keeps popping up everywhere. Whether I'm filling in a form (which has one box for 30-39 years of age and then another for 40-49 years of age) or overhearing colleagues talking about another manager, "Oh he's quite old; in his forties I think..." or when you find out that people you were in school with have become grandparents. Wherever I turn there are reminders.
We mark time by comparison. We compare where we are now to where we were 365 days ago or we compare our time on this earth to someone (or something) else's time. I used to feel quite 'grown up' when I realised that I was older than some pop stars that I liked. I compared my acting career to others' careers who were similarly aged or I compared it to where I hoped/expected to be by a certain age. That the comparison was unfavourable ultimately was one of the reasons I got out of the profession. I compare where I am now aged 40 to where I was when I was 20 or 30. Sometimes I compare quite well, other times not so well. We all do it, don't we? We compare where our peers are, we compare where we thought we'd be, our parents compare where we are to where they were at similar ages and we compare era's against era's - and the choices grow as we get older!
When I was 20, closeted and living with my parents, afraid that anyone from our small village would find out that I was queer; how dismal and gloomy life seemed. Happiness was something that happened to other people. It was beyond my dreams back then to imagine that in twenty years I would celebrate my 40th birthday with my boyfriend and his parents at their house in Denmark, that I would be comfortable and open with who I am and that I would have met the man of my dreams.
Ladies and gentlemen, raise your glasses please... To the next twenty years...
link | so... tell me
08.10.2002 - Antiques and pornography...
We took a trip to Flensburg in Germany today. This town, like much of this area, has been involved in a game of swapsies down the years as the border has changed position. Raise your eyes above the shop fronts and you can see the different influences on the achitectural styles; at times Danish, at others times German.
Flensburg is a picturesque harbour town with many fine old buildings scattered throughout the town. Most of our time was spent looking for a pair of shoes for the bf (which I'm glad to say we found). After that we had a late lunch (I could grow really fat on German food) and then homeward bound.
Driving through one of the main border crossings at Kruså you can't help but notice the number of antique shops and sex boutiques that have blossomed on the Danish side. Of course, subsequent to the Schengen Agreement the border control no longer exists. There is now no need to stop and show your passport and the cabins and offices are empty and falling into disrepair - the antique shops and sex boutiques, on the other hand, are still in tip-top shape. The bf explained that pornography laws in Germany were once tighter than in Denmark and so the sex shops are a hangover from those times. It doesn't, however, explain the numerous antique shops.
link | so... tell me
07.10.2002 - Home comforts...
The bf's parent's house is a peaceful house. Most of the furniture is quite old and solid as, indeed, is the house itself. It's very comfortable and comforting. Downstairs I can hear his parents working in their shop and outside the church marks time. I always feel so relaxed whenever I am here.
The bf's grandfather, Svend Erik Ihle, was an artist. There's not one wall in the house that is not decorated by him; whether it's a painting or a design painted on to the furniture or an example of wallpaper that he designed - it's everywhere. He is best known for his illustrations of Danish books and also for his renovation of church artwork. This painting is my favorite; it's a portrait of his mother.
link | so... tell me
06.10.2002 - Black sun...
We had a really relaxing day yesterday. We bummed around doing nothing for what was left of the morning after our late rise and then went for a pub lunch in the afternoon. The bf's sister and her partner are staying for the weekend so we're getting to know him as this is our first meeting. Like all the Danes I meet, his English is excellent. He has an American lilt when he speaks having lived for a year or two in the States when he was 15 or so - the resulting mix is quite a pleasant accent. Isn't it galling when foreigners speak English so well; the bf and his sister are near fluent. And what can we speak of their language? Well, if you're British it's a difficult enough job for most of us to splutter anything coherent in English, nevermind making ourselves understood in Danish.
Later on in the afternoon we all went to see the black sun which is a phenomenon that occurs in the Spring and Autumn on the flat marshy land outside Tønder. Birds (starlings, I think), thousands of birds start to flock in the late afternoon and as the light starts to fail and the day turns to dusk the flocks combine to make bigger flocks which in turn combine with other flocks and so on. The result is an aerial ballet as they swoop and rise and dive and twist much like a shoal of fish. The sight is quite something drawing tourists and twitchers alike from miles around.
link | so... tell me
05.10.2002 - The name's Philip, Prince Philip...
Yesterday the Danish Queen's second grandchild by her youngest son, Prince Joachim, was christened in Møgeltønder church about 3 or 4 miles from Tønder where I'm staying. There were live broadcasts from the church through the afternoon and these dominated the evening's news.
It was a family affair and no foreign royals were invited so no foreign dignitories as such... except for one. Wasn't that Roger Moore I saw entering Møgeltønder church? Now what the hell was Roger Moore, 04.10.2002 - The delights of travelling...
Yesterday's travelling really took its toll. Having started from Cardiff at 1.00am we finally arrived in Tønder at 3pm. I know it's only 14 hours but it's 14 hours when I should've been asleep. At 8:30pm last night I fell asleep at dinner, much to the amusement of the bf and his parents.
I love travelling... more accurately, I love journeys. With the exception of the coach to Heathrow from Cardiff I really enjoyed every bit of yesterday's trip. As I've said before I get so excited about flying and, despite the presence of some football supporters from Essex with their loud voices and the occasional poofter joke, yesterday's flight was no exception.
The Danish railways are a treat - compared to British trains where a slow and lingering, painful death would be a treat and, quite frankly, sweet release. Danish trains are so clean and the whole service seems geared wholly to the benefit to the traveller (another important difference to its Bitish counterpart). The whole service, quite literally, runs smoothly - try drinking a hot cup of tea on a British train, the state of the track ensures a scalded lap every time.
One phenomenon that seems peculiar to Danish trains is what I'll call the Sjælland Wave. You've heard of a Mexican Wave, well the Sjælland Wave is its DSB counterpart... When you book a rail ticket in Denmark you have the option of booking a seat. Many travellers don't, taking pot luck in the hope that the train won't be full. They generally are. The train stands at the main station in Copenhagen taking on passengers. When a traveller who has booked a seat turns up, rather that turf out the person sitting there they'll sit at a nearby empty seat. And the person who's booked that seat will themselves then in turn sit at a nearby empty seat. And so on... Until the train is full and then eventually someone has to vacate a seat for a person who's booked it. They in turn claim their booked seat and so on ad infinitum and through all the stations the packed train calls at through Sjælland. It's great fun to watch, especially if you've managed to claim the seat you've booked and are comfortably seated in it.
link | so... tell me
03.10.2002 - Jump for joy...
It's holiday time again and by the time most of you read this post we'll be in Denmark. The bf and I are on an ovenight bus out of Cardiff which leaves at 1:40am and then on a flight out of Heathrow to Copenhagen at 6:50am. From Copenhagen it's a train south west to Tønder in Jutland arriving by 3:00pm this afternoon.
After that, who knows? Most of the ten day break will be spent relaxing with the occasional trip across the border to sample the German supermarkets. What is it about German supermarkets? I love 'em - can't get enough. They are so cheap - both in terms of quality and expense.
I'll try and post as often as I can to let you know what I'm up to. I might even post some pics of the supermarkets just to show you know what I mean...
link | so... tell me
02.10.2002 - Let's put things in perspective...
Forget the threat of war with Iraq, the Palestinian/Israeli crisis, the hunt for Bin Laden, corporate financial scandals in the US and Blair's problems with New Labour versus Old Unions. Forget all that. What about Hear'Say!
link | so... tell me
01.10.2002 - Small points of interest...- Today is my last day in work for three weeks. How happy am I? Very!
- Tom got burgled on the weekend. Horrible to think that his flat was robbed whilst he slept.
- Everything you ever wanted to know about Wales but were too afraid to ask...