Oh don't stop the carnival

Sunday evening also hosted the finale of the Thames Festival - a torchlit carnival procession. I love that kind of thing, glitter and lanterns and people singing and dancing. TOH went off for a rather long piss.

I saw Mayor Ken:


Some dancing pigs carrying knives and forks:



Some people dressed in orange:


Some very fine bottoms:


and a girl twirling fire:


All in all, a very big day.

Aaaaand, cut!

Sunday was possibly the most exciting day we've had for a long time.

In the morning we met the father-in-law and went into town to visit the Great Eastern Hotel as part of the open house weekend. We queued for ages but were finally let in and given the tour. The most amazing bit, which is the bit every goes for, was this Grecian Masonic Lodge built inside. It was all made of marble and covered in creepy masonic symbols. I was chilled to the bone for as impressive as it was, it was very unpleasant inside.

After, we headed to Ciro's pizza which is housed in a former Victorian turkish bath. It is lovely - all eastern tiles, a little domed roof and beautiful tiled pillars. The food wasn't bad either although it was stingy portions.

Then we strolled through the city, retracing some of the London Wall walk, down to Fleet Street to meet the mother-in-law who was working as an extra on the Da Vinci Code, which was being filmed there with Tom Hanks and Audery Tatou.

Well, we managed to time our arrival with the bit where Hanks and Tatou emerge from a doorway and run down the street. There were cameras everywhere, men with curly earpieces asking us to move out of the way and lots of confused-looking tourists.

It wasn't long before we realised most of the confused tourists were actually extras who were always in the same place:


Here is Tom Hanks:


Here is Ritchie from The Happy Days, who also directed Cinderella Man:


Here is Tom given some directions to confused tourists:


Here are Tom and Audrey running from some assassins:


Here is Tom hiding round a corner from said assassins:


And here is the mother-in-law dressed as a nun. Apparently the Hanks character runs through a group of sightseeing nuns knocking them all over the place:


To be continued ...

Open House

TOH and I have been promising ourselves that we would visit some of the places which take part in London Open House for the past couple of years - and this time we made it.

First we went to see the Brick Lane Music Hall which is no longer based in Brick Lane but Silvertown, just down the road from the Tate and Lyle factory.

We were shown round by Vincent Hayes - artiste and architect of the whole caboodle. He told us the history of the building (an old church designed by a French architect) and of the company, which has moved round East London as landlords consistently increased his rent.

Outside, the building is a gorgeous little church, quite flamboyant for a lost corner of London. Inside is a marvel of red velvet and Victoriana. He has built the stage and auditorium around the original stone features of the building and it makes a truly wonderful place.

He also mentioned that he had seen the ghost of a long-dead vicar but doesn't tell his work colleague in case it scares him too much!

TOH headed off to Watford afterwards to witness his team head towards a shambolic defeat at the feet of (cheating northern scum) Sheffield United.

I took the opportunity to cycle nine miles (!) to a Sikh temple in Ilford, which was also taking part in the open house thingy.



First I had to take off my shoes and cover my head with a scarf. Then I was shown round by an extremely nice man who was taking great pleasure in sharing his faith with the likes of me.

The building was fantastic and totally out of character sandwiched between a row of terraced houses and a 60s office block. Inside it was very light and airy. He showed me where the copies of the holy book sleep, a four-poster bed at the top of the building, the prayer halls, one of which contained women who were reading three copies of the holy book out loud. Each book is read completely over three days in a relay-style and when one is finished, the next one is started. The start of the books were originally staggered so they are always being read.

Finally, he showed me to the ground floor food hall where people go to eat and socialise. I was offered a plate of wonderful Indian food with flavours you just don't get in English Indian cooking. I was also given a pamphlet explaining the very basics of the religion and from that I have concluded it is a very nice one.

On the way home, I passed a little old church called St Mary Magdalene just off the A13. It is completely ancient, with the main part built just after the Norman conquest. Inside was very simple and very peaceful. It is famous for its ancient wall paintings and Elizabethan 'monuments' inside.

Cinderella Man

Russell Crowe was excellent, Rene Zellweger not too annoying (although she looks more like a burns victim every time I see her) and Paul Giamatti convincing in The Cinderella Man - a boxing-against-the-Great-Depression feel-good movie.

It was about 3.5 out of 5. No where near as good as Million Dollar Baby.

Still it inspired TOH and I to get on our punch bag and do some training!

Say what you see

En route to the Old Red Lion in Great Windmill Street, TOH and I wandered past the new and controversial statue of Alison Lapper.

The marble statue of a pregnant woman who was born without arms and with stumpy legs was remarkably beautiful. The veins in the marble looked pale blue like the veins in people who need to get out in the sun a bit more. Her over-sized form sitting on top of the 'fourth plinth' was quite calming and thought provoking. A thumbs-up from The Wyebird!




We met Steve in the pub, which did an excellent six-fingered fish finger burger and chips, and headed upstairs for comedy when a couple of his BBC/diving pals arrived.

The signs were not hugely promising for the quality of the comedy when we saw the opening act heading upstairs carrying the ashtrays.

There were only about 30 people in the room, which to be fair, couldn't have taken any more. But then, from nowhere, appeared TV funnyman Roy Walker! Say what you see! and other Catchphrases! He was orange in colour and wide around the middle. He seemed to be on his own but was soon chatting to some young ladies and keeping them in stitches.

The acts were acceptable. Some funny moments, the occasional original joke and decent deliveries. Nothing to get excited about though.

Shopping for weapons

So, what do these arms traders look like? Tall-ish, greying white men in grey suits, with grey shoes and briefcases. They have steely faces with iron expressions. They look like they need to go out more, perhaps smell some flowers and, above all, unclench their buttocks.

The tube station was full of people like this heading to the arms jumble sale in ExCeL. They disgusted me. Just like the copper who sneered at a lady this morning explaining the unecessarily large police presence was there because they expected 'protesters' later. He practically spat on her saying the word protesters.

It's a crazy world where the ones selling tanks and missile are the good guys!

Under siege

We are surrounded by old bill.

There is an arms fair going on at ExCeL next week and the police are out in such numbers as I have never seen before.

The dock contains warships and no doubt more instruments of death will be delivered over the weekend ready to be traded to people who the west will invade in a few years and get the chance to try them out.

I am very annoyed that this kind of thing is going on in my patch and am flying a peace flag as protest.

Some coppers who were outside our flat shouted up, all innocent like, questions about who lives here. I deflected their queries, especially when one asked what number flat we were! Aren't they supposed to be looking out for terrorists and not bothering law-abiders such as myself?

It is interesting that the arms fair is the only thing not publicised on ExCel's website.

Wanna know what is going on? click here.
Wanna know what is really going on? click here

The Aristocrats
If you are a fan of comedians, rather than of their comedy, you might enjoy this film. It is basically a documentary, fast-paced clips of (mostly american) comedians talking about the joke they tell when the audience has gone home.

It has been passed down through the ages from the Vaudeville era and can be summerised thus: A man walks into an agent's office and says, have I got an act for you. The agent says, tell me about it. The man proceeds to describe the most scatalogical, incestuous, rancid and vile act carried out by a family on stage. Rape, faeces, bestiality etc etc. Whatever sick things the comedian can come up with.

The agent looks horrified and says, my god I've never heard of such an act! What is it called? And the man, with a little ta-daa! in his voice says, The Aristocrats!

The film disects the 'joke' through the comedians' expericences and some funny, some unfunny, tellings of the joke, and pretty much concludes the humour is in the performance rather than in the joke itself.

And because it is an 'in joke' among comedians, the more horrific the act is, the funnier the joke is. Execpt for women comedians - they told it with much more cunning and less shitting.

It is not a film that would appeal to many people but it is amusing in places. Especially the bit where Cartman tells it to the South Park gang and their faces fall, and fall and fall. That bit is almost genuis.

40 Year Old Virgin

Ha ha ha! What a great film. A man is still a virgin at 40, something his work buddies set about trying to rectify, with hilarious consequences. But he is in love with the woman that runs the We'll Sell Your Stuff On Ebay shop and doesn't want to pick up girls from bars or shag prostitutes - especially when they turn out to be men.

Despite the title, the film is not completely childish a la Stiller, Vaughn and Wilson. It is more subtle and therefore probably funnier.

There are some cracking lines such as 'you know how I know you're gay? You like Coldplay'.

And the two Asian guys who work with the gang on overhearing one of them inviting the virgin to a party (as a ruse to get him into the flat with the hooker) ask why they are not invited. 'What are we? Al Qaeda?'

As with most films today, it does go on a bit too long but it is class.

Walk the wall

TOH surpassed himself last night with his guided tour of the London Wall.

He came up with the idea of one of 'the group' leading a walk round London (Steve went first with his excellent litery tour) and it was his turn.

We met in a pub near Blackfriars, which is the where the western side of the Roman wall stood. I was quite amazed at how much research he'd done into the history and the laminated teaching aids he produced with ancient maps on and pictures of Olde London complete with hangings and anarchistic scenes.

He walked us along the route and took us to some hidden gems such as Guildhall, with its empty square and the outline of a Roman amphitheatre, and Postman's Park with a collection of poignant plaques to people who died trying to save others (it would appear in Victorian times the most danger was to be had from drowning, being scorched to death or being killed by a train).

The walk ended by the Tower Of London, where there is a small piece of the London wall still standing. Mostly Roman, I think but with some medieval additions.

A triumph. And setting a high standard for the next person to be 'leader'.

Celeb spotting

While TOH was watching footy in Cardiff, I took the opportunity to visit my dad and Paddy in Brighton. They are not together, or anything. In fact dad is in Shoreham and Paddy in Kemp Town. And they don't even know each other.

I decided to cycle to London Bridge and take the train down as the Shoreham Air Fair was on and it was foretold that parking would be impossible.

So I braved the horrors of London Bridge and it's two ticket machines for thousands of people and eventually got down to Shoreham.

I must say it is rather lovely there. A quaint little town and quiet beach with pebbles. The sea air tasted delicously salty to my city lungs and the sun was shining.

Dad seemed in good spirits despite the purple cast on his broken foot. But when you are living by the sea, every day must feel like a holiday!

There was a decided lack of aerobatics at the air fair. And punters - there was plenty of space on the roads.

In the afternoon I made a killer ride into the strong easterly wind to Hove. Paddy and I sat on the beach talking and playing backgammon, which I ruled after Pads admitted he'd been using loaded dice!

The sun was still beating down and I managed to get a glow on my shoulders.

We saw Patsy Palmer in the sea looking very ordinary in a black bikini and some bloke of Big Brother melting in a furry parker jacket promoting Smirnoff vodka.

Cycling home was also very hard work but very satisfying.

Bladerunning

Back on those skates last night - my god it was hard work.

Steve and I met up for our twice-yearly blade through the famous parks of London town; St James's, Hyde and Kensington Gardens. And we were no more proficient than last time.