I had a bit of a treat to start this season.
Bethy, little darling that she is, had bought me for Xmas a voucher for my favourite massage place, “Foot and Thai”, (come on, you’ve done all those jokes before.) I eventually got around to using it. I was very pleased to find out that, by using up some of the credit I had with them, ( as a member, for every dollar I spend in there I get 13% credited to my account to be used for future massages,) I was able to have a two hour massage, the longest I have had as of yet.
I decided to have an hour of foot massage, followed by an hour of “deep tissue” massage. Oh dear god, by the end of the foot massage I was a rubbery mess of a human being, it was so relaxing and thrilling at the same time. For this to be followed by an hour of “deep tissue massage”, (aka “Your back seems a bit tense, let’s see if I can break it,”) was almost too good to bear.
In their sauna later, I resolved to give the girl who had massaged me a fair sized tip. I always tip for good service, whether it be from waiters, cabbies, masseurs, prostitutes, or whatever. I put a twenty in my pocket, hoping to discretely pass it on when I saw the girl on my way out of there. I opened the changing room door to be greeted by a line of young female Thai masseurs, all diligently working away at people’s feet. Buggered if I could recognise the one that did me. (Yes, I know; “they all look the same to me,” is racist, so sue me.)
Brainwave! I’ll ask the receptionist to pass it on. (The receptionist there is the most stunningly gorgeous Thai girl it’s ever been my misfortune to have to speak to.) I asked; “which was my masseur today?” She smiled, “you had four work on you today, which one do you mean”. Bugger, but not surprising as I’d had my eyes closed for most of it. I fished out my wallet and took out another $20, “Could you give them each $10 from me, as a ”thank you” please?”
We took high tea at the Hyatt for Bethy’s 21 st birthday. I’ll just say that again for all my Welsh mates to have a good fucking laugh at me; “We took high tea at the Hyatt for Bethy’s 21 st birthday”
Pretentious? Moi?
Yes I know she had a big bash at the Old Parliament House for her birthday, but that was not ON her birthday if you see what I mean? Besides, her aunty Wilma was down, and we want to be kept in her will.
If, like me, you are a fan of art deco buildings, the Hyatt is a “must see”. The high tea, plus champagne were first class, and a very nice way to spend an afternoon.
The variety of foods were superb, and the quality was as you would expect. Of course, they had cucumber sandwiches, which were divine darling!
The only slight negative was having to ask for tea pots to be brought to our table, one would have thought tea was an essential component of high tea? I’ll shut up now, before I get banned from Bryn road for life.
This may take a little explanation.
Years ago, when I was at college in Plymouth, I was into the “4AD” music scene. One day, just by pure chance, I was at my mate “Mad Geoff” Davies’s house, and spotted a tape, obviously home made. “You can have that,” he said, “I can’t stand it.”
It turned out to be a local group, Barramundi. They were just guitar vocals and cello, and I fell instantly and eternally in love with it. It’s been with me for the best part of a half a century. Funnily enough Billy Pugh who I worked with at Kilworthy introduced me to the guitarist/ singer, Graham Bearn, when he visted her at Kilworthy, as he was a mate of hers. I don’t think I was too effusive, but may have frightened him a bit with the ardour of a true fan.
I’ve long lost the tape, but fortunately Wynn Phillips had ripped that to CD for me, and I now have 4 or five versions on different hard drives. I’ve now put the tracks up on youtube, just as another way of saving them in case I lose my hard / mp3 copies again. I’ve knocked up and thrown in the photos from my last 3 visits to Devon, as a slideshow to the music to make it less boring.
This album is a nostalgic and intensely personal reminder of my time in, and deep love for Devon and the people I know, and have known, there.
Bethy, poor sod, has for some time been having trouble with her right shoulder, and it kept getting worse. For someone who is fit and active this was a real problem, she plays women’s basketball, coaches an under 10 boys basketball team, she hits the gym 3-4 times a week, she plays mixed-sex 5 a side soccer, etc..
So having gradually diminishing strength, and increasing pain, in her dominant arm, was distressing.
She had several GP visits ($$$), and lots of physio, ($$$$) to no great help. So she was referred to an orthopaedic surgeon ($$$$$) the guy couldn’t see anything on her X-rays ($$$) or her MRI scans ($$$$) so he decided, “I’ll go in with a keyhole camera ($$$$$) and see if I can see anything, if I do I’ll try to fix it there and then.”
Bethy had a date for the operation, and we agreed that her and Brandon should stay at our house following the procedure, so as for her mother to spoil her rotten. Bethy, being a wit, went into the operation with “NOT THIS ONE” written in biro on her left shoulder. The surgeon found that she had a “labral tear”, and stitched it up.
According to Bethy the worse part of the whole procedure was waking up in hospital and; “Trying to run to the toilet while attached to a drip stand, with sick in my mouth and without waking all the snorers and farters who had kept me from sleeping!”
Brandon, I have to say, was a complete brick all the way through this. Solid, dependable, and caring. Bethy struck gold with him. After a few days they moved back to their own place, but Bethy is in a sling for 8 weeks, and cannot drive. She’s deferred this term at Uni as she cannot write or use a computer. Her employer “Bill the dentist” was so lost without her that, that after him pleading long and hard with her, she went into the office do his bookings, accounts and staffing rosters, even though she was supposed to be off work.
So, like buses, you wait for one show to turn up, then 5 turn up at once.
First cab off the rank was “La Clique”. This was one of those wonderfully sexy, “adult/burlesque circus” type affairs, which was being held in a “Big Top” in Canberra city centre.
We hit the town first, just to have a couple of beers and a bite to eat. We found ourselves at “Tongue and Groove” in the CBD.
Unfortunately, as those who have visited us will know, Canberra bars are never going to be great, aren’t they? Most try to make the best of their soulless inner city locations, but, let’s face it, there’s more life in a tramp’s vest than there is in Canberra’s CBD.
Tongue and Groove does nothing to challenge this, it accepts it’s faceless location, and revels in it. This sort of works, it doesn’t pretend to be anything it isn’t. To go along with this lack of ambition, it serves a range of bog standard ice cold beers, a reasonable wine list, and offers food. The food fitted nicely within it’s unpretentious nature, being basically burgers, fish and chips, pasta and pizza, you couldn’t get less radical if you tried.
On the plus side, my fish was fine, as was L-A’s burger. However both were served with those awful stringy “french fry chips” which should NEVER be allowed to be on a plate, far less be called “chips”.
So you may be thinking I’m not a fan. Au contraire.
We wanted a quick bite to eat and a few beers before going on to the show and Tongue and Groove gave us exactly what we wanted. The bar staff were extremely pleasant, the company was fine. The location, well you have to accept that Canberra is not a buzzing cosmopolitan city, it’s CBD is without much merit, so accepting this you make the best of it. We enjoyed.
Then the show.
It was brilliant, from the opening multi-coloured fan dance, through the stripper magician, to the rope act to Prince’s “Purple Rain” (during which the band’s guitarist pulled off the most amazing “front of stage” solo,) to the clowns, to the stunningly beautiful, near naked, contortionist, it was all just horny as hell, and very exciting. The male and female performers had, inevitably, near perfect bodies, and performed next to, or even fully, naked.
Great, like I need to feel even more fat and old.
On the way out I was stopped by the ringmaster, who pointed at my Hawkwind t-shirt and said; “I used to tour with them, I did their stage magic and stilt walking stuff!” I looked over to the near nude, and stunningly gorgeous, acrobat who was stood next to him, and stated; “I’d far rather go on tour with her than with Dave Brock anyday!”
We were so enthused about it that we talked Bethy and Brandon into going to see it the next week. Due to Bethy having her arm in a sling they were given front row seats, and sheet of plastic to cover themselves with during the “purple rain” bath sequence.
Bethy said of this act;
“It takes some balls to get up on stage in front of all those people and do that!” Well I’ve looked very closely, and I cannot see any.
Next we went to the cinema, and saw “The Lady In The Van”. We went to an afternoon showing as L-A has a nasty habit of falling asleep during movies, both at home and in the cinema. I don’t know what causes it, but you can ask her a question about the ending of any movie she’s attended in the last 5 years, and honestly she’ll not have a clue.
Anyway, I love Alan Bennett’s work, I’ve got most of his stuff on CD/DVD. Some of his “Talking Heads” stuff I have listened too only once, and cannot listen to a second time, as I’d only end up in floods of tears. Again. (Yes, beneath this stony exterior beats a heart of flint.) Anyone who can listen to “A Cream Cracker Under The Settee” read by Thora Hird, and not cry, truly isn’t human. But TLITV is a lovely movie, we really enjoyed it. It’s a very gentle, “based on a true story” English eccentric tale. The use of two “Alan Bennett” is a clever trick, and of course Maggie Smith, as always. gives a knockout performance. Alan Bennett himself pops up in the final few minutes which was nice, (he’s bloody ageless, isn’t he?) Well worth a watch, but how he put up with the old cow for 20+ years is beyond me.
On the way back from the movie we stopped off at “The Bolt Bar” which is in the next suburb to us.
An odd place, but reasonably worth a visit. They have a micro-brewery who does “one off ales” for them, (all served too fucking cold, natch,) and offer food. L-A had a burger with marmalade, I had,… wait for it,…. fish and chips. The food wasn’t particularly good, but they were hosting a birthday party when we were there, and so were rammed. The birthday party looked like it was for someone from the local women’s soccer or rugby teams, as there were some well strapping lasses there. We’ll give the Bolt Bar a second chance to impress us, sometime when they don’t have a party on.
Oh, while I’m on the subject. Our local shops has a cafe, ”The Little Oink”, (remember that Tom Harness?) They have taken over the Chinky next door, and will be opening a bar there. A bar in my suburb? That could be handy. Expect a review in the future.
St David’s day at work;
And some Easter treats!
“Quail” chocolate Easter eggs!
Cheese and marmite scroll biscuits
We took a trip up to Sydney to see John Cleese and Eric Idle.
We took Brandon’s car, as it is far less likely to blow up or break down than mine is. Brandon drove, I sulked and read my kindle. Booking a hotel for us had been a right pain. We’d wanted an apartment, but those we liked either didn’t have two double rooms, or were 3 night minimum bookings. We needed two nights.
Eventually I found “The Urban” which was ideal.
It even had parking, what a find! A great place to stay in Newtown, which is the hipster/ student/ exciting suburb of Sydney, it’s also very handy for the Enmore Theatre, which I often see bands at, and for the girls to go shopping in the King Street area.
Not unreasonably priced, well equipped, and very clean, staff were friendly and obliging. Our room, 112, was very quiet. All rooms are quiet if you’re deaf though.
Obviously they are aiming at the younger crowd, and the place is very funky and has lots of urban chichi in its design. You know what I mean, lots of raw concrete and varnished hardwood, the sort of stuff which would look like cheap shoddy shite if it wasn’t in a hipster joint.
Not the sort of place for a romantic break, (I didn’t get lucky,) but great for a few days in Sydney.
Would stay and visit here again. We spent the Sunday just in Newtown, cruising the shops, and visiting bars. Not a bad way to spend a day
We dined, twice at our favourite cafe there “Cafe C” we knew it was a great place for breakfast, but found that for evening dining it’s not as great. I mean, our evening meal there was ok, not great not bad, nothing startling. Guess what I had? Note to the server guy, when I ask for a double vodka, I only want one, not two. Both doubles got drank though. Breakfasts here are to die for, I heartily recommend the pancake/fritter stack, or the “salmon Breakfast”.
I loved the salmon breakfast, I had to be restrained from having two.
Passing a bookshop, slightly pissed, I noted they were doing “A blind date with a book”. “WTF?” I hear you exclaim. Well basically, they have a range of books, wrapped in plain brown paper, so you cannot read the blurb, or see the cover image. They have a vague description on them in pen, so you are buying a book in minimal information.
L-A insisted on buying me one, it had “London gangster leaves prison, and seeks revenge” on it.
It turned out to be; “London Boulevard” by Ken Bruen. It’s in my reading stack, which tends to have at least 12 books in it at any given time
We spent the afternoon before the show at “The Bank Hotel Bar” which is a great place to watch the world go by while drinking cloudy cider, and gazing out over down-town Newtown.
It could become a habit if I lived closer.
We took a train into central Sydney. Using Google Maps on Brandon’s phone we totally failed to find anywhere to eat. Eventually stumbling over a bar, we went in and asked if they did food; “We do pies”, was the less than exciting response. Luckily they were able to point us towards some restaurants.
We found Indu by accident, as I should image anyone who’s not been there before would have done. It had a single door, that looked like it led to a restaurant cellar, it had vague signs up about Indian Cuisine. But what a fucking find! Probably the best Indian meal I’ve had out here.
The food was sublime, out of this world, we ordered shared plates, and each dish was amazing. The crispy skin barramundi an absolute knockout. Different sort of setting to traditional Indian places, being dark and almost gothic, but it still had the feel of a proper Indian restaurant, without the Bollywood glitz. Service was good, they certainly have enough wait staff.
Interestingly, the food wasn’t “spicy hot,” but “spicy spicy” if you knw what I mean? The food there is about the taste, not blowing your head off with a clichéd vindaloo or Phall, each dish had robust flavours, without hiding the taste of the main protein, (we had all fish or vegetarian.)
My only criticism of the food was that the serves were on the small side. We’d order more dishes the next time we go. It’s not cheap, not by any stretch of the imagination, but it’s value was in the flavour.
Well worth a visit, definitely going back the next time I’m in Sydney, highly recommend.
Cleese and Idle? Well we were dead lucky, as, in my haste to book, although I’d missed that they were playing Canberra, thus costing us an arm and a leg in travel and hotels, I had managed to get us great seats, central and just three rows back from the stage.
A joy of a show, two old troupers together, knocking out old and new material. They did a mix of “autobiographical” material, “History of the Pythons” stuff, illustrating this with video clips.
Also, they threw in a load of personal anecdotes, taking the stage individually for these. Cleese’s use of “racist” humour, to illustrate his philosophical diatribe on humour, and how “PC is ruining it”, was well paced, beautifully executed, thought provoking, and resulted in several swift intakes of breath.
It ended up with a mass sing song, with Idle playing guitar, you’ll never guess what song?
A fantastic night out.
The next day we travelled back, but with me driving this time, (no I didn’t read my kindle.) However, I did still managed to get us lost while getting out of Sydney, this despite following our GPS. I do this every fucking time I leave that city. At least this time I didn’t end up crossing the harbour bridge several times, building up tolls each time, as I have done so often in the past.
Last one, promise!
We saw Rich Hall who was in Canberra as part of the local comedy festival.
He was playing, oddly, in the disco area of a local club / bar. We ate at the bar, and wished we hadn’t.
I won’t bother reviewing it. Yes that bad. When the door opened we trotted upstairs. We were going to take seats mid way down the hall, the seats weren’t allocated by ticket, but “first come first served”. Then L-A noticed; “There’s no one in the front row.” So we trotted down there, and got the best seats in the house.
A great stand up set, with some comedy songs thrown in. He was asking people in the audience personal questions, to give him ideas to do riffs off. We told him how we got together, he made a few funnies about people meeting online, and, how, as we had met on a debate forum, we should have got all our arguing with over by now. He asked Brandon what he did for living, and, finding out Brandon works in IT, Rich did a song about “The Guy who fixes your porn”, which was lovely.
A brilliant night out, we’d love to see him again!
OK, I did say “five (shows) come along at once,” but only related three, (four including the movie.) The other two?
This weekend Me and Brandon are heading back up to Sydney to see “Stiff Little Fingers”.
It’ll be interesting to be away with my daughter’s partner, on our own, to say the least!!
Then next month we’re seeing, yes, yet again, Ross Noble.
It’s been a sod of a year so far for people karking it, has it not?
RIP
Lemmy
David Bowie
Alan Rickman
Umberto Eco
George Kennedy
George Martin
Keith Emerson
It can stop now, I’ve had enough for one year. Bethy was so upset by Alan Rickman passing, she’s a huge fan and has the same birthday as him, she came over to stay with us. “I just feel so sad and upset and don’t know what to do.” I felt the same about Lemmy kicking the bucket.
While taking the mutts for a stroll at Shepherds lookout, I came across this hind. Luckily I had my camera to hand for a change.
There’s lots of lovely images in this month’s gallery. Go see!!
That’s it for this session. I hope you go some chuckles out of my misfortunes. It would be nice if at least one of you took the trouble to leave a comment, he cried in vain…
Follow
