As I lean back tonight (with a mug of hot chocolate – yum) and prepare to organise my thoughts in handy blog form (yes, this thing you’re reading now) I am filled with that strangely comfortable achey-leg sensation – that one you get after a decent amount of walking (or ‘pacing’) around the place enjoying happy summery days with an array of great people. Which is not, I grant you, a very profound observation. (It’s just true, is all. Although ‘array’ was a strange choice of word.)
Now, how’s this for commitment? On Monday I started out taking part in a protest against the mass cancellation of Building Schools for the Future, which reminded me how very silly it feels to chant a slogan over and over again, but had to dash off before very long in order to *whispers* have coffee at the BBC. (Although it was actually tea, I think the whole story sounds better with coffee.) It was all in the service of stalking Bill, of course, who showed me round TV Centre (ooh exciting!) before we relocated to Bush House for the recording of Digital Planet. All great fun, and an opportunity to see Gareth Mitchell’s stylish leather which is left cruelly untransmitted by the medium of radio, so I’m sure the gods of political chanting will forgive me. (Still, ‘free schools’ rather than rebuilding actual schools? C’mon, government…)
Still, on the topic of a strong and stable coalition, what was most lovely this week was that Matt, Caroline and I full took advantage of all being in London at the same time. On Wednesday, Caroline braved the journey to Willesden in return dinner – OK, in return for fish and chips – and then on Friday night I successfully gathered people together at Camden’s Bar Gansa for ever-popular jugs of sangria and tapas. (And thanks especially to Saoirse for agreeing to come and making sure the political spectrum was about as wide as humanly possible )
Afterwards, Matt and I went back to Caroline’s thrillingly central flat for a couple of bottles of wine, Utopian Writing reminiscing and – I have to say – some of the nicest political chat I’ve had in a while. There’s nothing like a the calm atmosphere of late-night terrace drinking to get beyond party political point scoring and onto more interesting discussion – although I’m not sure the public are quite ready for the History of Political Thought theme park which, in a related free exchange of ideas – mum, Matt and I came up with over breakfast this morning. (Oh yes, and inbetween those two conversations, I got Matt onto his first London night bus. Hurrah!) Seriously, though. A theme park. For political philosophy. With rides. It would be awesome.And then today, we three got together again for Hyde Park pic-a-nicking and Inception: a great watch, and likely to engender a good deal of existential teenage angst for years to come. (Now just don’t go and ruin it by making dull sequals a la The Matrix, yeah?) One thing bothered us about the film, however, and although it’s not much of a spoiler you may want to stop reading here if you haven’t yet seen it. OK, so: if you were in a long-term ‘dream’ with just you and your partner, in which you had the time and ability to create the entire world around you, then why on earth would you create a bland city of scarily symmetrical copy-and-paste skyscrapers and no greenery at all? Not even a little park? (It’s a lack of imagination which our theme park at least will avowedly avoid, you can be sure of that.)
Rise and shine!