I don’t know if it is just because we are in the middle of our summer, or if it is because I am experiencing a mid-life crisis, but everywhere I look I see classic Kombi vans.
I am regretting selling our old van that we used to have a while ago, as I have fond memories of taking an extended 6 week holiday through England, Scotland and Wales. It has become a tour that is commonly known in our family as the ABC tour (another bloody castle, another bloody church).
While we were in Cornwall recently I said something that nearly got me divorced. I saw an old immaculate split-screen Kombi and rashly stated that it was the ‘sexiest thing I have ever seen!’
After looking at various classified adverts it would seem that these VW are very desirable vehicles. A concourse condition camper from the 60’s could set you back £10,000 easily.
Almost every day I see a van trundling down the road or parked up and I crane my neck to see if it has a for sale sign anywhere on it; it doesn’t. I guess I will have to continue dreaming and buying the lottery tickets.
Wednesday, July 13, 2005
More of wot I have read…
Darwin’s Children, by Greg Bear
If you can get past the techno-babble this story has a very interesting premise regarding evolution and belonging (or not belonging) to the future. Unfortunately this book often reads like some novelised biology theses and you may need to hold a PhD to get the most out of it. The author has obviously done a great deal of research on this subject and wants to ensure that you are aware that the theories are based on documented work by reputable individuals or organisations. With so much of the book dedicated to the science there is, in my opinion, not enough effort put into developing the characters to make them sympathetic to the reader. This book was hard work.
'In Greg Bear's stunning new thriller, nature is more of a bitch goddess than a kindly mother, and evolution is no longer just a theory -- it's an urgent and dangerous fact. In DARWIN'S CHILDREN, human society is about to get a complete makeover. A new kind of humanity is growing up. Some call them the Virus Children. They are special children, equipped with significant natural upgrades that allow them to communicate and socialize in ways we can hardly imagine, or resist. Charming, gentle, persuasive, beautiful...in them can be seen a future that may make all of human history until now seem clumsy and brutal. As products of an extraordinary evolutionary event called SHEVA that swept through the population like a contagious disease over a decade ago, they carry ancient viruses that could cause our extinction, viruses that may be triggered at any moment by stress, anger...or puberty. The new children are being methodically rounded up and sequestered in special schools where they are studied, measured and biopsied. Stella Nova, the daughter of Kaye Lang and Mitch Rafelson, is one of them. She is driven by instinct to be with her own kind, to establish a new kind of social order and discover her potential. Kaye and Mitch wish to protect her, but to do so, they must keep her isolated, stifled in a blanket of security that they all know must eventually be lifted. Despite their best efforts, Kaye, Mitch, and Stella are tracked by security forces that could break them apart as a family. The new children must be controlled, these forces believe; and the time may come when both species must either separate, or engage in outright war. In DARWIN'S CHILDREN, human society is about to get a complete makeover, and who will win is anyone's guess. For, as Kaye Lang discovers, silence is also a signal…'
If you can get past the techno-babble this story has a very interesting premise regarding evolution and belonging (or not belonging) to the future. Unfortunately this book often reads like some novelised biology theses and you may need to hold a PhD to get the most out of it. The author has obviously done a great deal of research on this subject and wants to ensure that you are aware that the theories are based on documented work by reputable individuals or organisations. With so much of the book dedicated to the science there is, in my opinion, not enough effort put into developing the characters to make them sympathetic to the reader. This book was hard work.
'In Greg Bear's stunning new thriller, nature is more of a bitch goddess than a kindly mother, and evolution is no longer just a theory -- it's an urgent and dangerous fact. In DARWIN'S CHILDREN, human society is about to get a complete makeover. A new kind of humanity is growing up. Some call them the Virus Children. They are special children, equipped with significant natural upgrades that allow them to communicate and socialize in ways we can hardly imagine, or resist. Charming, gentle, persuasive, beautiful...in them can be seen a future that may make all of human history until now seem clumsy and brutal. As products of an extraordinary evolutionary event called SHEVA that swept through the population like a contagious disease over a decade ago, they carry ancient viruses that could cause our extinction, viruses that may be triggered at any moment by stress, anger...or puberty. The new children are being methodically rounded up and sequestered in special schools where they are studied, measured and biopsied. Stella Nova, the daughter of Kaye Lang and Mitch Rafelson, is one of them. She is driven by instinct to be with her own kind, to establish a new kind of social order and discover her potential. Kaye and Mitch wish to protect her, but to do so, they must keep her isolated, stifled in a blanket of security that they all know must eventually be lifted. Despite their best efforts, Kaye, Mitch, and Stella are tracked by security forces that could break them apart as a family. The new children must be controlled, these forces believe; and the time may come when both species must either separate, or engage in outright war. In DARWIN'S CHILDREN, human society is about to get a complete makeover, and who will win is anyone's guess. For, as Kaye Lang discovers, silence is also a signal…'
Monday, July 04, 2005
More of wot I have watched…
We joined a few friends on Wednesday and went out for Sue’s birthday to watch a film at the IMAX Cinema near Waterloo. This venue is pretty amazing with its enormous screen and sound system. We had been previously to see the Polar Express in 3D and were totally impressed.
We had arranged to meet at the Fire Station pub and restaurant around the back of Waterloo Train Station for a drink and something to eat. The place was heaving and we stood out on the sidewalk with the crowds until we all met up (the sight of me and James having a telephone conversation barely six feet apart oblivious to each other and insisting we were at the pub, cracked Sue up). It was an interesting and pleasant restaurant and the food was good. Portion sizes were large and most of us had two starters instead of a main course.
We had arranged to watch the new Batman Begins at the Imax. It was not in 3D which was probably just as well as it was difficult at time to keep up with everything on the screen in just the 2 dimensions. The dark feel of the script and cinematography made this a different type of Batman film than the previous, and more in keeping with the later Dark Knight comic strips. The lead was very good even though his costume must have restricted his throat as it seemed to cause his voice to drop several octaves when he wore his mask. The batmobile was cool (apart from the stupid gun operating arrangement).
For the most part the film relied on the superb supporting cast to carry it through. I did not enjoy the unnecessarily over long and migraine inducing fight scenes, and I would have liked more plotline development. But overall the film is what it is and is till worth a viewing if you like that sort of thing.
The biggest problem about travelling in to London is the journey home afterwards. We had a mad scramble to reach our last train home and didn’t get in until way after midnight (not good for us old folk on a school night).
We had arranged to meet at the Fire Station pub and restaurant around the back of Waterloo Train Station for a drink and something to eat. The place was heaving and we stood out on the sidewalk with the crowds until we all met up (the sight of me and James having a telephone conversation barely six feet apart oblivious to each other and insisting we were at the pub, cracked Sue up). It was an interesting and pleasant restaurant and the food was good. Portion sizes were large and most of us had two starters instead of a main course.
We had arranged to watch the new Batman Begins at the Imax. It was not in 3D which was probably just as well as it was difficult at time to keep up with everything on the screen in just the 2 dimensions. The dark feel of the script and cinematography made this a different type of Batman film than the previous, and more in keeping with the later Dark Knight comic strips. The lead was very good even though his costume must have restricted his throat as it seemed to cause his voice to drop several octaves when he wore his mask. The batmobile was cool (apart from the stupid gun operating arrangement).
For the most part the film relied on the superb supporting cast to carry it through. I did not enjoy the unnecessarily over long and migraine inducing fight scenes, and I would have liked more plotline development. But overall the film is what it is and is till worth a viewing if you like that sort of thing.
The biggest problem about travelling in to London is the journey home afterwards. We had a mad scramble to reach our last train home and didn’t get in until way after midnight (not good for us old folk on a school night).
Sunday, July 03, 2005
Hankies, sticks and pints of ale…
We have recently returned from an eventful long weekend break in the Isle of Wight with the Aldbury Morris Men.
A cultural journey into the traditions of Ye Olde England with a well meaning group of historians you may think, but you would be totally wrong, it was more of a journey into the drinking establishments of sleepy seaside villages with a bunch of jolly drunks.
My Uncle (He is the one on the top hat - see the website) is a musician (he insists in making it quite clear he does not actually dance), and he invited us to become part of the Morris Groupies along with the various relatives and friends of the other members of this band of merry men.
We met them all at Portsmouth (not before being pulled over by the police – but then that is to be expected if you by a ‘cheap’ car). We pulled up at the harbour car park just as the lightning and thunder struck and we promptly found shelter in the local hostelry (well, start as you mean to go on as they say).
Our ferry journey across to the island was dramatic not only for the regular forked lightning strikes on the mainland, but for the assembled naval forces of many nations arranged throughout the harbour in preparation for the Trafalgar 200 ceremonies to come.
During the weekend we were ferried around the island in an old 1965 bus that was built in the Duple coachworks at the same time as my father used to work there. We travelled in style from village to village where the be-belled gentlemen of a certain age would prance about waving hankies and knocking seven bells out of each other with lengths of timber, before retiring for a cleansing ale or a pint of the local cider (very good stuff it was too). The evening consisted of taking over a venue and bringing out a variety of strange and wonderful instruments (mostly musical – of course) and singing and playing some truly moving and memorable folk tunes.
Before we took the ferry home we managed a short sightseeing trip to Cowes to watch the various waterborne craft enjoying the much improved weather. We also came across an interesting T-Shirt shop that held a garment with the legend that symbolised the weekend for us – The liver is evil and it must by punished!
In my opinion the adage ‘never trust a book by its cover’ is certainly true in this case, never turn down a weekend with the Aldbury Morris Men (that is unless you are a recovering alcoholic).
A cultural journey into the traditions of Ye Olde England with a well meaning group of historians you may think, but you would be totally wrong, it was more of a journey into the drinking establishments of sleepy seaside villages with a bunch of jolly drunks.
My Uncle (He is the one on the top hat - see the website) is a musician (he insists in making it quite clear he does not actually dance), and he invited us to become part of the Morris Groupies along with the various relatives and friends of the other members of this band of merry men.
We met them all at Portsmouth (not before being pulled over by the police – but then that is to be expected if you by a ‘cheap’ car). We pulled up at the harbour car park just as the lightning and thunder struck and we promptly found shelter in the local hostelry (well, start as you mean to go on as they say).
Our ferry journey across to the island was dramatic not only for the regular forked lightning strikes on the mainland, but for the assembled naval forces of many nations arranged throughout the harbour in preparation for the Trafalgar 200 ceremonies to come.
During the weekend we were ferried around the island in an old 1965 bus that was built in the Duple coachworks at the same time as my father used to work there. We travelled in style from village to village where the be-belled gentlemen of a certain age would prance about waving hankies and knocking seven bells out of each other with lengths of timber, before retiring for a cleansing ale or a pint of the local cider (very good stuff it was too). The evening consisted of taking over a venue and bringing out a variety of strange and wonderful instruments (mostly musical – of course) and singing and playing some truly moving and memorable folk tunes.
Before we took the ferry home we managed a short sightseeing trip to Cowes to watch the various waterborne craft enjoying the much improved weather. We also came across an interesting T-Shirt shop that held a garment with the legend that symbolised the weekend for us – The liver is evil and it must by punished!
In my opinion the adage ‘never trust a book by its cover’ is certainly true in this case, never turn down a weekend with the Aldbury Morris Men (that is unless you are a recovering alcoholic).
More of wot I have read...
Here is a nicely written fable for the modern day that introduces some old and familiar heroes and villains in some very unfamiliar yet strangely understandable settings. It is a sometimes confusing and convoluted journey where much of the enjoyment comes from getting there. I particularly enjoyed the author's liberty taking and fun poking at mythological characters and the re-interpretation of what a god really is. A good read.
I am most familiar with Neil Gaiman's graphic novel (comic book) series Sandman, and reading this novel you can certainly see how he brings that dramatic visual style to the written word.
American Gods, by Neil Gaiman.
'Is Nothing Sacred?
Days before his release from prison, Shadow's wife, Laura, dies in a mysterious car crash. Numbly, he makes his way back home. On the plane, he encounters the enigmatic Mr Wednesday, who claims to be a refuge from a distant war, a former god and the king of America.
Together they embark on a profoundly strange journey across the heart of the USA, whilst all around them a storm of preternatural and epic proportions threatens to break
Scary, gripping and deeply unsettling, American Gods takes a long, hard look into the soul of America. You'll be surprised by what, and who, it finds there!'
I am most familiar with Neil Gaiman's graphic novel (comic book) series Sandman, and reading this novel you can certainly see how he brings that dramatic visual style to the written word.
American Gods, by Neil Gaiman.
'Is Nothing Sacred?
Days before his release from prison, Shadow's wife, Laura, dies in a mysterious car crash. Numbly, he makes his way back home. On the plane, he encounters the enigmatic Mr Wednesday, who claims to be a refuge from a distant war, a former god and the king of America.
Together they embark on a profoundly strange journey across the heart of the USA, whilst all around them a storm of preternatural and epic proportions threatens to break
Scary, gripping and deeply unsettling, American Gods takes a long, hard look into the soul of America. You'll be surprised by what, and who, it finds there!'
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