Ah, Paris. In the endless internal debate over whether I feel more American or European, there’s nothing like a quick trip to Paris to remind me that actually I mostly feel like a Londoner: a big city lover who respects anywhere else that has a kick-ass underground system. And really, there is something truly magical about walking to Willesden Green station and then not leaving either a train or a station building until you emerge in the middle of another country. Of course, not speaking the language might have been a bit of an issue – scroll to around 2.27 for more – but luckily I was expertly guided around by Tash and Beth (thanks guys). And speaking of Tash – it was just really, really nice to hang out with her again – and I’m totally looking forward to visiting Manchester already
More photos on Facebook, but here’s a taster:
One final thing about Paris: as much as the ‘world city culture’ was very much in evidence – albeit with admittedly more beautiful surroundings – one thing that really struck me as different from Britain was the presence of the army. I’m sure it’s just what you grow up with, but as a Brit, I still find it a little odd when you see our own police officers armed with guns. Much as it may be sometimes necessary, I can’t help but feel glad that we still don’t consider it necessary for our police to be armed as a matter of course. Yet in France, not only were the police armed but so too were on-duty soldiers: most incongruously, just outside Disneyland, where they could so easily have been costumes and props but were, of course, real soldiers with real weapons. I’m not saying any of this really matters much: obviously, the British state could call in the army to its own streets if it wanted to, and has done so in the past. It’s just a feeling, and maybe a romantic one, that most of the time we don’t want or need such an obvious show of force to live in peace.
On a more prosaic note, yesterday was dad’s birthday and so – back in London – the family went out for a really nice dinner and then, as a surprise, News Revue. (See, told you I’d mention it again…) Which now means their song parodies are ever more firmly lodged in my head!
And finally – you might want to check out Regimented, a new site set up by Alex Trafford to host a series of debates on a variety of topics. I’ve kicked off the proposition for the opening debate on digital piracy, which – I should point out – is a position that was arbitrarily assigned, as it will be for everyone. Nothing on the site necessarily represents what any of us actually personally believe. But if you are interested, give it a read…
Hey y’all. I’m back! Well, back for a little bit – from late on Wednesday night until Sunday, in fact, and then holiday part #2 starts on Sunday Croatia, unsurprisingly enough, was hot and sunny and very restful! I feel under a bit of pressure to blog well about it, though, since we were sitting around one evening discussing blogs – as families do – when my own mother opined that The Musings of a Red Dalek has gone downhill over the past six months. A stab to the heart is what it was, I tell you, a bloody heart stabbing incident indeed. (Between mournful gasps, I countered that at least it was still going, and has comfortably outlived most of its contemporaries. So there.)
As you may have gathered, Tasha was having an eventful time doing other things this time round, so Katie and I held the generational fort with a raft of silly activities. These included a developing a serious addiction to German MTV – or Mighten Tighten Vighten, as it shall now forever be known – to the extent that I now have a bunch of German-only pop songs stuck in my head: an itch that Spotify sadly fails to satisfy. Wir war’n Geboren um zu Leben, mit den Wundern jeder Zeit!
I have to say, though, that acting as a family of four for a while did confirm to me that being one of three siblings is clearly best. I know this is controversial territory. Only children in particular can be rather militant in demanding equal rights these days, and I’m totally not prejudiced – some of my best friends are only children! – and liberal enough to believe if consenting adults don’t want to share their toys that’s alright, as long as they do it in private and don’t try to teach siblinglessness in schools. But just one sibling still isn’t enough. Don’t get me wrong: Katie and I got on great in Croatia, as we (almost) always do, it’s just that family mealtimes with five people are even more competitive in terms of getting a word in edgeways, and I rather enjoy this constant shouting healthy dynamism. Maybe even more would be even better…
Oh yes, and on the subject of me and Katie – we had a wonderful moment together in Split, after petulantly refusing to accompany our parents to see the interior of a church and opting instead to stay outside in the glorious sunshine. (It was borne of an immediate but nonetheless remarkably firm conviction that we rather liked our own shoulders, thank you very much, and weren’t about to cover them up without a more enticing incentive than, um, the interior of a church.) Yet the moment they went in without us a pagan alternative suddenly turned up outside, in the form of a bunch of toga-clad, crowd-pleasing ancient Romans. Hurrah! No matter how much gold was inside that church, in the coolness stakes our team totally won.
Also: mum, Katie and I went rafting, which was lots of fun…
…and included an optional rock-jumping stop. Now, before I conclude on a photo of said rock-jumping, I must say a word about Katie’s sneakiness. Because there’s also of photo of her jumping off the rock – a photo I won’t be blogging, because it makes me look stupid by comparison – with her arms outstretched and a carefree, isn’t-this-fun look on her face. Great. I, on the other hand, am clasping my life jacket like a fool. But, ladies and gentlemen, we were told to do this! Honest! Katie just abandoned health and safety in pursuit of a cooler photograph – it’s her that you should judge
Hello there! I’m back, and the first thing you should do is check out my photo gallery and make yourself all jealous and\or amused at the dry predictability of summer holiday snaps. Go on, do it now – I’ll wait. Done that? Sure? Right, now for a drop of the accompanying written commentary…
Some holiday things:
- Firstly, there was the reading. As already alluded, book club has really spurred me into action and this holiday I finished The Lost Continent before reading White Teeth (absolutely loved it), Finity (silly sci-fi, though fun in places) and The Time Traveller’s Wife (a great read, though curiously lacking much tension). I then started Lolita which I’m now half-way through and struggling with: at times the book just succeeds in creeping me out.
- True to my modern history roots, one of the most interesting bits of the holiday was the ‘Story of the War’ walking tour in Dubrovnik. An excellent guide made it utterly compelling.
- Watching something in German makes even the most banal of TV hilarious. Special mention to the host of a phone-in quiz TV channel at 1am, who alternated between a hushed silence and manic shouting that the prize money had just reached DEN DHOUSAND! euros.
- Buses in Dubrovnik are cheap, crowded and not averse to attempting to chop someone’s arm off in their doors. Pretty decent in all though, which we ascribed to the grand powers of the imaginary TfD.
- Jakov appeared at the airport!
Back in the UK: it was AS and A2 results day on the 14th, which means mega-congratulations to Lucy, Josie, Lou, Andy and everyone else at Waseley, as well as Maya, Fliss, Sanna and everyone else who was either failed to let me know how they did yet or I’ve forgotten. Yay!
And now I must return to my swiftly reducing Outlook pile of outstanding items, which include a better quality photo of me and Ken, a business project (more on that later) and other assorted things which demand my time. But if you feel like pulling me away from such stuff for post-holiday reunions, please do get in touch
So, we sit. The Self family sit on the hotel balcony overlooking the sea. Each chair is positioned precisely to minimise eye contact with any other member of the family, but granting splendid views of each other’s (tanned) backs. What are we doing? Why, reading, naturally! An old French novel of epic confusion, The Time Traveler’s [sic] Wife, some Dan Brown, an issue of Nature and Finity. I’ll leave you to decide who was which, naturally.
Two French holiday-makers stroll past. Looking at us, one concludes to the other “well, they are English” in an obvious attempt to explain such eccentricity. Not, obviously, in English. But as it happens, it’s not so impossible to find non-English speaking English, and my parents happen to belong to such a niche. So there.
I felt like correcting them – “British, actually”. But I didn’t. The weather’s lovely, though.
(Apologies for the writing style, but we have honestly all been reading a lot.)
It’s high time to blog about my holiday in Russia, I think! Most of you will only be interested in the pictures, of course which are now live in the gallery, so go check ’em out.
And now a short(ish – I’ll try my best) diary of some of my holiday highlights and the occasional not-so-highlight:
Saturday
Flew to Moscow, and was highly amused and a little worried by the applause when the plane landed safely. Arrived at our ginormous hotel – with 25 floors and space for 3000 guests – and discovered for the first and not the last time that Russian food is not known for its glamour.
Sunday
City tour of Moscow! Though it rained a lot, and was cold, we still saw lots of cool things like Red Square, St Basil’s Cathedral and the outside of Lenin’s tomb. Mum bought socks for her poor wet feet.
Monday
We toured the Metro system – and yes, I do mean toured – because it’s incredibly artistic and beautiful in some of the stations, filled with socialist paintings of the happy happy Soviet workers in their happy happy (former) country. The Metro itself is brilliantly functional by the way – trains are advertised as coming every 3 minutes but in practice it seems even quicker, putting London rather to shame. Later we braved the fortress of the Kremlin.
Tuesday
Visited a monastery out of town, and saw a monk on a mobile. In the bus on the way, our guide told us about life in the Soviet union, and the day she became friends with a girl whose grandfather had been in the Politburo and had enjoyed an equal life slightly more equal than her equal life. We also learnt that after the collapse of the USSR you could purchase the flat you’d been living in for a minimal amount, but lost most of your money. That night we saw a Russian show and then caught the overnight train to St. Petersburg which was very exciting, and I’m now demanding that Virgin add little two-person cabins with beds to their routes immediately.
Wednesday
Arrived in St. Petersburg, toured the slightly more European city (though Moscow was already very ‘Western’), checked into the new hotel and grabbed a bite to eat. I had a hamburger. It was delicious. Toward the end of the day, however, the cost-benefit analysis of eating a delicious hamburger became clear as I started to feel ill, culminating in a bit of a bad night and…
Thursday (AKA ‘Bad Day’)
I stayed in my room all day on my own with food poisoning and a headache. If I was forced at gunpoint to rate the days in order, I’m pretty sure this would be fairly low down.
Friday
Happiness and smiles people – today made up for the bad day! We visited a palace with stunning rooms, gardens and fountains, where (hilariously) a two-man band decided to play the British national anthem followed by Greensleeves for us as we got off the bus. On our return mother and I were sitting around in the hotel lobby having a drink when we suddenly decided to head for the Hermitage. This is an amazing art collection, bursting to the seams with Picasso, Van Gogh, Monet, Matisse, Leonardo da Vinci… basically everyone, ever. Whilst mum’s tour on Thursday had only covered a tiny portion of it, today we had under an hour to run through room after room of French impressionist painting which was slightly funny in its own right.
Saturday
Surely, Saturday might occupy some high position in the gallery of crazy days. Waking up at 3.30 in the morning UK time, we flew home into Heathrow. Dad met us at the airport and drove us home where our road had chosen today to hold a street party, so everything was alive with children, food and flags. I only had a few hours to bask in this novelty of community before re-packing and setting off for Lucy’s 18th birthday gathering (happy birthday for today!), bumping into Rishal and Manoj on the way to the Tube station. So, Russia -> London -> Birmingham in one day of travelling! Lovely evening though and it was great to see certain people again after too long.
Phew! OK, if you’re still reading, bear with me because I’m almost done. I’m now at my aunt’s house for three days whilst she’s away and builders are in, which is a nice foreshadowing of living alone at uni I guess. Which is… less than two weeks away now! Wow! I’ve just managed to join Facebook in preparation, so come and and add me as your friend and we’ll bake some Facebook cakes together or something, yeah?
(Oh, and I almost forgot… I saw Knocked Up on Sunday. Good!)