20 August 2006

Culture and jobs....20th August 2006

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Summer officially ended on Sunday the 31st of July, when the sun didn't rise and the temperature literally dropped from 35C to 20C overnight. Low lying cloud and cold winds from the Arctic have become the norm. The sun shows a propensity for humour, surprising us with its appearance at about 6pm but otherwise failing to break through the morose cloud cover through the rest of the day. We have hardened ourselves to the reality that our time in the sun is over for the year.

Sunday July 31st was also the day that we moved into our new house. We now live on the Isle of Dogs (which is surprisingly void of dogs), in the shadows of Canary Wharf. This district is also known as 'Docklands', no prizes for guessing what went on here in days gone by. Nowadays, Canary Wharf (which Fletch is convinced was originally called Cannery Wharf) is the financial centre of London. Over the past few years, there has been a significant building and redevelopment program and Canary Wharf is a mecca of towering glass and concrete architecture and carefully sculpted gardens. It is one of the few areas of London that can be described as clean and the streets are wide, parks are plentiful, cars are almost non-existent (although the five thousand car parking spaces under the buildings at Canary Wharf mean that cars do come here, I'm not sure how they get in and out of the parking stations without being seen). Of course, no-one who works at Canary Wharf actually lives here, which means that outside of business hours, we have access to one of the lovelier areas of London without the crush that seems ever-present in this city of eight million.

The highlight of living in this area, however, is the DLR (also known as the Docklands Light Railway). When we told our various colleagues that we had moved to Docklands, the initial response (from every single person) was “Wow, you'll get to ride the DLR every day”. This mystical mode of transport resembles a roller-coaster and travels some thirty feet above the ground. It also does not reach the 'sardines in a can' saturation of the tube, which means that you can travel in peak hour without emerging feeling as though you've just been in a scrum. The DLR vehicles drive themselves, which can be a bit disconcerting when you're travelling in the front seat, and are almost entirely glass. It is a far more pleasant way to travel than underground, although we do have to take a tube for the last part of our journey. I haven't started riding my bike from here as yet – the main roads from Canary Wharf to the West End resemble a highway and I'm yet to locate the cycling map for this area, so it's public transport for both of us at the moment.

July 31st was also the day that we decided we would make August our 'month of culture'. We are living in the musical capital of the world, so we are going to make the most of it. We found out that the Proms are on – we had heard of the Proms but didn't realise that it was 56 days straight of classical concerts (sometimes as many as three a day) – found out that tickets were as little as £6, worked our way through the concert listings and arranged tickets to see a number of concerts. Thus far, we have seen (for those of you who take an interest in such matters, I shall list them in full):

Motzart - Piano Concerto in C major
Ravel - Piano Concerto in G major
Musorgsky (Orch. Ravel) - Pictures at an Exhibition
S. Stucky - Second Concerto for Orchestra
– this is a new composition and only the second time it was played anywhere in the world. It is my Prom favourite so far, the performance was incredible.
Dohnanyi – Symphonic Minutes
Bartok – Piano Concerto No. 3
Stravinsky – Rite of Spring (Fletch's Prom favourite thus far)
- after this performance, the orchestra did an encore of something by Brahms and then one of the double-bass players and two violinists gave an impromptu performance of a Transylvanian folk dance...unexpected and very exciting.

Still to come, before the end of the month, are Beethoven's 9th and Sibelius' violin concerto (and a few more but the names escape me).

The Proms have been great fun. The atmosphere is incredible – they are staged at Royal Albert Hall, which is one of the most visually stunning performance spaces (although Fletch says that acoustically it isn't all that great – a domed roof...) I have ever seen. The interior is almost entirely red velvet and gives a very regal air to proceedings. There is a 'mosh pit' in front of the orchestra (these are actually the cheapest tickets (only £5), but you have to queue up on the day to buy them) that has been packed at every performance. Many of the people in the pit are Proms regulars and have a number of traditions – our favourite is the shouting of 'Heave – Ho' when a piano lid is lifted.

In addition to our classical extravaganza, we indulged in a little musical theatre to celebrate our second anniversary (yes, it really has been that long). We had dinner first and our culinary venue of (Fletch's) choice was a seafood restaurant called Loch Fyne. Loch Fyne sources all of their produce from Scotland, and the oysters and tuna steaks provided a near religious experience for Fletch. I had an halibut (said in the appropriate pythonesque way), and we even managed to find a lovely Marlborough sauv. blanc to wash it down.

Sufficiently supped, we ambled down to the Adelphi theatre for the evening's performance of Evita. It was lovely. We laughed, we cried, we got told off by the usher for trying to sneak down to better seats before the intermission. All in all it was a wonderful way to celebrate our anniversary. And Fletch says to say that I looked gorgeous in my new black dress.

Some words from Fletch

To cap off our month of culture, we are hoping that the Royal Scottish Academy of Music and Drama (yes, Scots do refer to it by its acronym RSAMD) is going to fall all over themselves to make sure that I accept a job offer. Here's hoping anyway. I'm going up to Glasgow on Wednesday for a Thursday interview, and armed with the folio that Maria helpfully posted to them yesterday, I'm sure that they won't be able to resist my amicable charms. They'd better anyway, as Team Fletch has pulled out all the stops to try and make sure I don't come back to Brisbane any time soon! A huge thanks to Cathy for taking phone calls at absurd hours of the morning and shovelling through all of our stuff just to find a couple of CDs, to Joe for giving up so much time in the leadup to his wedding on my behalf [congrats guys, we hope you had a great day], to Greg for spending part of his holiday on Team Fletch, to mum for driving all over the countryside, and to Christopher for his hard-drive space, download quota and his time). With such a committed team, I can't help but get the job! Be that as it may, I don't want to hatch all of my counts before they chicken, so I also have an interview in London on Tuesday and in Hull (for two different jobs) on Tuesday week. I know that prayers are being said for me and I thank all those with their fingers firmly crossed on my behalf. I can think of no better job for me than spending all of my time recording classical ensembles and big bands, so here's hoping.

We'll be sure to let you know once we know how its all panned out. Till then, as Confucius said, Wok on!

Fletch's tips for new travellers
An odd coincidence in London is that the more you pay for a cup of coffee, the less like coffee it tastes. The best coffee I have had in London costs 1pound 10p and is truely fantastic. In comparison, a cup of Starbucks costs at least 1pound 90p, but you have to pay another 30p for a second shot of coffee, just to bring it up to standard strength. Incidently, the best cup of coffee was from a place called the 12 Bar Cafe in Denmark Street, near the junction of Tottenham Court Rd, Charing Cross Rd and Oxford St. Sometimes we feel like we're in London to play monopoly.

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03 August 2006

A little update 3rd August 2006

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As you are all aware, we have been especially slack in updating our blog of late. I’m sure a brief synopsis of our recent activity will garner your understanding in this matter.

We settled back into relative tedium after our trip to Belgium. As our trip to Belgium was by way of a birthday present for me, it seemed only fitting that I return the favour and organise an outing for Maria’s once yearly celebration of not yet being dead. Thus I booked two tickets to the Festival of Speed. The festival of speed is an extravaganza of fast cars, old and new, held on the estates of the Earl of March at Goodwood. What better birthday present could a girl ask for?

Getting to Goodwood from London was a 2-hour mission. The weather was quite drizzly and overcast, helping me to make a mistake of omission that was to come back to haunt me. You see, I couldn’t fit my Akubra into the pack when we left sunny Brisbane, and since we did most of our travel in the winter, I haven’t found myself needing one. We had decided to buy a hat for me on the way to Goodwood, but the inclement weather inspired complacency on my part. Being England, the weather changed its mind around lunchtime, burning the water from both the atmosphere and the racetrack, leading to excellent racing conditions, and a Fletch that passed through pink and red to an alarming shade of maroon. I at least had the smarts to wear a long sleeved, collared shirt. It was therefore only my face that bore the brunt of the sun’s vengeful wrath. I haven’t been burnt like that for over 10 years, I’m sure.

Now that I’ve got my moaning over, I can assure you that the pain was well worth it. There were some really fantastic cars at Goodwood. The theme this year was 100 years of Grand Prix, as the first was the French Grand Prix of 1906. Renault made their presence felt, bringing three 1906 Grand Prix cars, as well as the 2006 F1 car driven by Giancarlo Fiscicella (not sure if the spelling is even close). The 2006 F1 car was hooked up to a laptop and played ‘God Save the Queen’ and the ‘Marseilles’ in revs at regular intervals. I’m sure being in that tent probably lost me some of my future income, at least where mixing is concerned! (WHAT WAS THAT HONEY? STOP DITHERING AND GET ON WITH IT? WHAT? I’M NOT SHOUTING!)

Audi also had a big presence, with some 1930s Auto Unions sitting aggressively next to their rival Mercedes contemporaries. The usual gaggle of F1 and Indy cars from the past 40 years were there, as well as WRC cars of various groups and ages, and motorbikes. The 5th fastest time of the day was recorded by a Ford Transit van, one of the course vehicles, but apparently that’s fairly common. Lord March himself took a not quite leisurely drive up the hill in the new Bugatti super car, as well as a white knuckles ride on the back of a 2 seater Ducatti super bike. The F1 drivers had burnout and doughnut competitions in front of the main grandstand, and Jacky Stewart was characteristically blunt about the ergonomics of modern grand prix cars after he and Giancarlo swapped cars for a photographically opportunistic meander up the hill.

The best thing about Goodwood is how close you can get to the cars. It’s a lot like the Speed on the Tweed, only the cars cost more, and there are more women in expensive clothes sipping champagne. It’s like a cross between car racing and horse racing. Anyway, I’ll presume to talk for both of us when I say that it was a highlight of our English experience so far.

Since the Festival of Speed, we have been hard at work. We had a distinctly forgettable experience finding a new place to live. We were lead up the garden path on the first property we arranged to move into, and due a shortage of time, were forced to take a place that wasn’t available until a week after we moved out of our former residence. With the prospect of a week of outdoor living looming, we were therefore very grateful to Dominic and Samantha for providing us with refuge for our week in limbo (in Chelsea no less!). We have now moved however, and are very comfortable in our new place on the Isle of Dogs. The unit is in an excellent location, and our flatmates are of the most desirable kind; tidy, quiet and mostly absent.

So now is a time of planning and consolidation for the future. I’m hard at work applying for jobs, and am hoping for a positive response soon, as working in the shop does my head in, to use the local vernacular. Maria is also considering her options, as her thesis should be returned from marking soon, and the exciting world of patents administration has failed to keep her enthused. We are also planning on a short sojourn to Scotland in early September, before it gets too cold. Summer seems to have ended here though, with the maximum temperature being 35C on Sunday, and 25C on Monday. The sun is also setting noticeable earlier too now, with daylight only extending to about 8pm. Thank goodness I say, for London simply isn’t designed for heat, and the English seem to disdain deodorant almost as much as they disdain showers. Nothing is quite as fragrant as a trip on the tube in peak hour on a hot day. *Shudder* (Did I just indicate an action in the middle of my text? *Shudder* )

Speak again soon,

Fletch and Maria

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