Links.
I now have links. They are to your right. Enjoy.
Two dinners... why?
This is the view from my back balcony. I've been taking a lot of pictures from here recently. First of all, it's convenient as it's accessible from my room. Secondly, the light never seems to be the same twice. And third, possibly most pertinent, is that it won't be my back balcony for much longer. The flat is on the market. I can't afford to buy it. And even though I'm leaving, and my destiny, for the time being, is elsewhere, I love this place. And it saddens me. 
I took this at Scone Palace last week when I was watching Pete C play polo. It was a beautiful sunset and I like the way this turned out, as I like to think it's technically a good photo while still being personal. You see, on the right is the Crawford Disco (Land Rover Discovery) and horsebox. If it had just been a Scottish sunset it would have been nice but boring. Of course, to most people it probably still will be, as they have no idea of the context but it doesn't matter. It brings a smile to my face. It's also the first photo taken with my Pentax I've put up here. There will be more. So anyway. I ate 2 dinners last night. There are all sorts of excuses I could give about it - circumstance and whatnot, etiquette, yadda yadda yadda... but the truth is that every once in a while the fat git in me rears his ugly head to chow down. Thai food and then an Indian in one night. This is not a good thing in any way, shape, or form. Then, this morning, my flatmate made me a bacon sandwich. I cannot tell you how little I needed a bacon sandwich today. But how can you say no when it's made for you? Bleah.
Off to Scone again this evening to watch the polo and BBQ. I don't think I'll have lunch beforehand.
Some stuff...
Things that are cool in life at the moment -
Thai green curry - hitting the spot
Peroni Gran Riserva - fantastic beer that is also hitting the spot
Book shops - I have an addictive personality, and while I've managed to defeat cigarettes, my adoration of book shops and compulsion to buy books remains a gripping addiction. Bit healthier than cigs though.
Astronomy - there's this Mars thing happening. Where it gets really big. Or at least looks that way to us earthlings. You've probably received an email about it. I find that really cool. I'll be checking it out that night. I am a massive geek.
Tina's baby - Tina's like a sister to me, and now she has a little boy, which is wonderful. And kind of like a nephew to me.
The Futureheads and The Magic Numbers - two very cool bands at the moment. Find their eponymous albums and play them lots.
Women - The constant mystery of the fairer sex is always cool. But it's also always really annoying.
London - Heading down after the polo, though not sure how. Very excited. Haven't been partying properly in the big smoke for ages.
Lobster - tastes good
Anything written by Andrew Greig - reading him should depress me, for I don't think I'll ever be able to produce prose as beautiful, but it's so good that it doesn't matter.
Baffi's wedding - is going to be in a castle in Ireland. How cool is that?!
My iPod - I'm sorry, but they are just the best things ever. Life needs a soundtrack, and now it has one.
My Pentax K1000 - Yes, it's old and obsolete and I don't really know how to use it. But it's still cool, and it still works.
The Red Sox - even though they lost last night.
Things that I find irksome at the moment...
Intelligent Design - One could say the best argument against intelligent design are the people who believe in it. Everyone's ranting about this right now, so I thought I'd chime in.
Women - They go on both lists. Even though they're nice to cuddle.
My weight - it's coming off, but not fast enough. I don't care about being bald and unattractive but the fat thing is wearing thin.
My job - I think I'm setting some sort of underachievement record.
Money - is once again becoming difficult.
Hangovers - totally my fault
Developing costs - for film. The other shoe drops.
There was something else. I can't quite remember what it was. Or whether it was in the cool or irksome column. Maybe it was premature senility...
There are more cool things than irksome things. That is how life should be.
Thai green curry - hitting the spot
Peroni Gran Riserva - fantastic beer that is also hitting the spot
Book shops - I have an addictive personality, and while I've managed to defeat cigarettes, my adoration of book shops and compulsion to buy books remains a gripping addiction. Bit healthier than cigs though.
Astronomy - there's this Mars thing happening. Where it gets really big. Or at least looks that way to us earthlings. You've probably received an email about it. I find that really cool. I'll be checking it out that night. I am a massive geek.
Tina's baby - Tina's like a sister to me, and now she has a little boy, which is wonderful. And kind of like a nephew to me.
The Futureheads and The Magic Numbers - two very cool bands at the moment. Find their eponymous albums and play them lots.
Women - The constant mystery of the fairer sex is always cool. But it's also always really annoying.
London - Heading down after the polo, though not sure how. Very excited. Haven't been partying properly in the big smoke for ages.
Lobster - tastes good
Anything written by Andrew Greig - reading him should depress me, for I don't think I'll ever be able to produce prose as beautiful, but it's so good that it doesn't matter.
Baffi's wedding - is going to be in a castle in Ireland. How cool is that?!
My iPod - I'm sorry, but they are just the best things ever. Life needs a soundtrack, and now it has one.
My Pentax K1000 - Yes, it's old and obsolete and I don't really know how to use it. But it's still cool, and it still works.
The Red Sox - even though they lost last night.
Things that I find irksome at the moment...
Intelligent Design - One could say the best argument against intelligent design are the people who believe in it. Everyone's ranting about this right now, so I thought I'd chime in.
Women - They go on both lists. Even though they're nice to cuddle.
My weight - it's coming off, but not fast enough. I don't care about being bald and unattractive but the fat thing is wearing thin.
My job - I think I'm setting some sort of underachievement record.
Money - is once again becoming difficult.
Hangovers - totally my fault
Developing costs - for film. The other shoe drops.
There was something else. I can't quite remember what it was. Or whether it was in the cool or irksome column. Maybe it was premature senility...
There are more cool things than irksome things. That is how life should be.
The right to blog?
I read this and it interested me. Maybe it will interest you too.
flotsam & jetsam
Lots on my mind, weird night last night and general life rules. This entry will cover that.
Had an amazing lobster meal cooked by the friend of a friend. It was extraordinary. Lobster claws on toasted crumpets with lobster butter, a balsamic lobster tail salad, and then a lobster risotto, the production of which consisted of making an intense lobster bisque and then using it as the stock. Add some asparagus. You now have one of the greatest and most simple meals in the history of the world. Cream was involved too, of course.
Made an interesting discovery regarding the various lobster found along North-East Atlantic coasts. Norwegian lobster resides in deeper water slightly further from the shoreline, due to how rough the surf is along much of the coast. It also has the least polluted waters, as most of them are well out of the way of the main shipping routes. Scottish lobster is kind of in the middle. Shallow waters closer to the shore mean that their shells are slightly thinner. Bit more pollution too. Irish lobster have very thin shells as the warmer gulf stream water requires less insulation. They have longer claws. They're also exposed to the most pollution. Bummer.
They all taste pretty much the same though.
So after amazing lobster I went for a walk. This brought me to the pub with Pete C & Lil where we drank beer and discussed, with eager anticipation, the upcoming polo. I mentioned that I'd had second thoughts about attending due to many things, most of them beginning with this symbol: £. Pete looked at me as though I'd grown another head, which I took to be a sign that bailing was not an option. It's nice that people really want your company. It's one of those things that you can feel really good about without the fear of being big-headed.
After pub I went for one of my very long walks along the beaches of St Andrews. I ended up, as I often do, at the end of the pier. The stars were incredible. The sort of stars you shouldn't get near a densely populated area. There were so many visible that they lit the space between them, and gave the impression that for every one you could see there were a trillion you couldn't. I knew that within those gaps there were more stars and that if all of their light reached us the night sky would be consumed with starlight instead of midnight blue and black. I tried to find the two stars I'd made my grandfather's constellation but failed. Ah well...
I got home and found Lish online. She was drunk. I was drunk. Drunken messaging ensued and in the heat of it all I started a new blog. It's fictional, but only slightly. I got to bed at 4 and had a driving lesson at 11.
The Bob Marley Songs of Freedom box set arrived from Amazon today. It's a legendary collection, and one that I owned before, but lost in quite a silly fashion. I was on a train from Birmingham to London and left it in my bag, as well as my passport. I only realised this when I got home. I phoned Paddington to see if anyone had handed in a bag to lost and found. I was told they couldn't check as the station was under a security alert due to unattended luggage. Oops. I mumbled something about finding it and hung up, blushing bright red in solitude.
Do what you like. A friend of mine made this discovery when he was going through a rough patch. He looked at all the things he used to do that he loved. He wasn't doing any of them any more. He was in a job that he hated and his only extracurricular activity seemed to be heavy alcohol consumption. So he went back to the things he loved, that made him happy. I've started doing the same, going back to the things that I love: writing, reading, adventuring and finding some new things like rugby and photography. I even went horseback riding the other day. That kind of filled a gap. So, go do something you like.
Bought a book today, recommended by someone who has yet to suggest a book I didn't like. I feel guilty because I don't have as good a record with her. Ah well.
Had an amazing lobster meal cooked by the friend of a friend. It was extraordinary. Lobster claws on toasted crumpets with lobster butter, a balsamic lobster tail salad, and then a lobster risotto, the production of which consisted of making an intense lobster bisque and then using it as the stock. Add some asparagus. You now have one of the greatest and most simple meals in the history of the world. Cream was involved too, of course.
Made an interesting discovery regarding the various lobster found along North-East Atlantic coasts. Norwegian lobster resides in deeper water slightly further from the shoreline, due to how rough the surf is along much of the coast. It also has the least polluted waters, as most of them are well out of the way of the main shipping routes. Scottish lobster is kind of in the middle. Shallow waters closer to the shore mean that their shells are slightly thinner. Bit more pollution too. Irish lobster have very thin shells as the warmer gulf stream water requires less insulation. They have longer claws. They're also exposed to the most pollution. Bummer.
They all taste pretty much the same though.
So after amazing lobster I went for a walk. This brought me to the pub with Pete C & Lil where we drank beer and discussed, with eager anticipation, the upcoming polo. I mentioned that I'd had second thoughts about attending due to many things, most of them beginning with this symbol: £. Pete looked at me as though I'd grown another head, which I took to be a sign that bailing was not an option. It's nice that people really want your company. It's one of those things that you can feel really good about without the fear of being big-headed.
After pub I went for one of my very long walks along the beaches of St Andrews. I ended up, as I often do, at the end of the pier. The stars were incredible. The sort of stars you shouldn't get near a densely populated area. There were so many visible that they lit the space between them, and gave the impression that for every one you could see there were a trillion you couldn't. I knew that within those gaps there were more stars and that if all of their light reached us the night sky would be consumed with starlight instead of midnight blue and black. I tried to find the two stars I'd made my grandfather's constellation but failed. Ah well...
I got home and found Lish online. She was drunk. I was drunk. Drunken messaging ensued and in the heat of it all I started a new blog. It's fictional, but only slightly. I got to bed at 4 and had a driving lesson at 11.
The Bob Marley Songs of Freedom box set arrived from Amazon today. It's a legendary collection, and one that I owned before, but lost in quite a silly fashion. I was on a train from Birmingham to London and left it in my bag, as well as my passport. I only realised this when I got home. I phoned Paddington to see if anyone had handed in a bag to lost and found. I was told they couldn't check as the station was under a security alert due to unattended luggage. Oops. I mumbled something about finding it and hung up, blushing bright red in solitude.
Do what you like. A friend of mine made this discovery when he was going through a rough patch. He looked at all the things he used to do that he loved. He wasn't doing any of them any more. He was in a job that he hated and his only extracurricular activity seemed to be heavy alcohol consumption. So he went back to the things he loved, that made him happy. I've started doing the same, going back to the things that I love: writing, reading, adventuring and finding some new things like rugby and photography. I even went horseback riding the other day. That kind of filled a gap. So, go do something you like.
Bought a book today, recommended by someone who has yet to suggest a book I didn't like. I feel guilty because I don't have as good a record with her. Ah well.
Karma fart...
So there I was on Saturday, home from work and playing with the new lense for my SLR. It's a 28-200mm 3.5 Vivitar with a Pentax K fitting. A month ago I would not have known what that meant. I had been worried about scratches (bought used, how could you not be?) but a good rub with cloth cleared up the few blemishes. Ready to go. Film. Black & White 400, because I've only used colour so far. So I'm kind of excited about getting textures & playing with contrasts. I'm ready for disappointment as well because I'm still not very good at this. I head out to the front balcony to guage the zoom. Glorious evening sun & a rainbow. The beach and pier are the richest gold I've ever seen. Black & white film in the camera. D'oh! So I grabbed the digital. Ah well...
A lovely lady just called to order a case of champagne for her nephew and his wife. She described my accent as lovely and called me a "lovely American". That doesn't happen very often these days. Even I have a hard time using positive adjectives when describing my homeland and my compatriots. It was nice. It's given me a warm fuzzy feeling.
Thought - we all know the heart is really just an organ whose job is to keep our blood flowing. All the romantic stuff is nonsense as all feelings and emotions are generated above the neck. Then why, on Friday, when I received dreadful news about a friend of mine, did my heart go cold? Why, just now, when the fantastic Mrs McInnes paid me a rare compliment, did my heart lift and warm? C. S. Lewis wrote that what something is made of and what something is are seldom the same thing. I'm sure there is a simple, biological explanation for why certain emotional reactions come from the heart. I'm also sure that's not the whole story.
A lovely lady just called to order a case of champagne for her nephew and his wife. She described my accent as lovely and called me a "lovely American". That doesn't happen very often these days. Even I have a hard time using positive adjectives when describing my homeland and my compatriots. It was nice. It's given me a warm fuzzy feeling.
Thought - we all know the heart is really just an organ whose job is to keep our blood flowing. All the romantic stuff is nonsense as all feelings and emotions are generated above the neck. Then why, on Friday, when I received dreadful news about a friend of mine, did my heart go cold? Why, just now, when the fantastic Mrs McInnes paid me a rare compliment, did my heart lift and warm? C. S. Lewis wrote that what something is made of and what something is are seldom the same thing. I'm sure there is a simple, biological explanation for why certain emotional reactions come from the heart. I'm also sure that's not the whole story.
After dawn...
Snapped this one morning a few weeks ago. I was up pretty early for me. I'm glad I was.
Self-inflicted wounds...
Self-inflicted wounds receive no sympathy.
I have a lapping hangover. Like a calm sea, it caresses, lapping quietly; making me aware of its existence and its power without hurting me. A bit of dizziness, an odd sense of being out of sync with the world around me, an urge to listen to Jimmy Buffett; this is my state right now. I'm enjoying it.
A force ten hangover would toss me about like a cork in a tempest. And it would hurt.
Customers are arriving with inane questions and I'm enjoying it.
I like this hangover.
It came about through drinking with old friends from different stages in my life. One was an ex-girlfriend. I mentioned her briefly, saying she makes me smile so much my cheeks hurt. This is still the case. Her friends are also my friends and they too make me smile so much my cheeks hurt. There was a great deal of laughter, silly chat in silly voices, pizza and wine. I realised how incredibly beautiful they all were, not simply in the aesthetic sense but because their amazing character shines through and enhances their looks. They are pretty hot too.
Maybe hangovers made in the company of beautiful women hurt less.
Grumpiness and depression are self-inflicted wounds as well. They don't tend to lap. And most of the time they don't deserve sympathy. I don't think I'll discuss them here anymore. Because it occurred to me that I mention them here to garner sympathy and to attract attention. That's not so cool. It's also pointless for 2 reasons. One is that reading about someone being miserable and grumpy is no fun. The other is that I don't think anyone actually reads this.
Jimmy Buffett is great hangover music.
I have a lapping hangover. Like a calm sea, it caresses, lapping quietly; making me aware of its existence and its power without hurting me. A bit of dizziness, an odd sense of being out of sync with the world around me, an urge to listen to Jimmy Buffett; this is my state right now. I'm enjoying it.
A force ten hangover would toss me about like a cork in a tempest. And it would hurt.
Customers are arriving with inane questions and I'm enjoying it.
I like this hangover.
It came about through drinking with old friends from different stages in my life. One was an ex-girlfriend. I mentioned her briefly, saying she makes me smile so much my cheeks hurt. This is still the case. Her friends are also my friends and they too make me smile so much my cheeks hurt. There was a great deal of laughter, silly chat in silly voices, pizza and wine. I realised how incredibly beautiful they all were, not simply in the aesthetic sense but because their amazing character shines through and enhances their looks. They are pretty hot too.
Maybe hangovers made in the company of beautiful women hurt less.
Grumpiness and depression are self-inflicted wounds as well. They don't tend to lap. And most of the time they don't deserve sympathy. I don't think I'll discuss them here anymore. Because it occurred to me that I mention them here to garner sympathy and to attract attention. That's not so cool. It's also pointless for 2 reasons. One is that reading about someone being miserable and grumpy is no fun. The other is that I don't think anyone actually reads this.
Jimmy Buffett is great hangover music.
Nooks & crannies...
I just read this while checking out some Red Sox stuff. How cool is that? Granted, it would have been cooler if the guy didn't have to check out any satellite pics, but there's something about finding forgotten places, items, whatever that compels. We don't know everything, not everything is written down and there is still a massive amount of room for discovery in the world. I'm not saying a sign-posted path should be beaten to all these things, on the contrary - most of them should be left untouched. But still. That's not the point - there's still adventure to be had! There's stuff to find! Find it! Don't always tell someone though. And clean up after yourself. It would suck if the next explorers stumbled upon your cigarette butts and empty beer cans.
Little things...
The Red Sox beat the White Sox last night and in first place against the Yankees by 5 games. This is a very good thing. I'll stop before I bore you all with Baseball. But today is looking a great deal better than it did at 9 this morning.
Miscellany...
First off - gadgets. I suppose I would describe myself as a bit of a gadget geek. I have an iBook, an iMac, an iPod & and a Shuffle, digital camera, DV camcorder, smart(ish) phone, iBoom, dictaphone, and many other odd objects kicking about - some of which I don't know the whole story behind why I have them. I got my new phone the other day, and it works. I upgraded because my previous phone didn't work, so the new one working was a bonus.
I took it out, I played with it - successfully transferred all my contacts to it, had a go at the camera which was pretty incredible for a phone. And now I'm at a bit of a loose end. There isn't anyone I need to phone in particular. Or text. And when I take a picture, I want to use a real camera.
And my computers... I'm finding that unless I have something to do - be it email, check something on the net, write, update this blog, load some photos or do some web design, I don't really want to just be using them for the sake of fiddling.
Am I growing out of gadgets? It would be a good thing, particularly for my bank account. But still a considerable rite of passage. Some guys never get over them.
It's like realising that I'm a morning person in denial. I wake up naturally about 7 but for some reason force myself to go back to sleep to be rudely awakened by my alarm and feeling far worse than I did an hour before. I might preempt a New Years resolution and start getting up when I wake up. I'll keep the alarm on for back up.
Anyway... things have been strange over the last couple of days. I feel like I was away for a lot longer than I was. And I had loads of stuff to write. Simple, obvious observations and questions that piqued my curiosity. But I can't quite get a grasp of them. I'm wondering why I write this blog. My mother told me she was surprised by how personal it is. I hadn't noticed at the time. Reading over it, there are a few things discretion should probably have edited. But it's there. There are some things I don't talk about, I suppose. This is accessible to anyone after all.
Originally I meant to use the blog as a means to write everyday, even if I couldn't focus on one of my big projects, I'd be getting stuff out of my head and onto the screen. It wasn't really meant to be a journal, which is what I think it's becoming. If I forget my intentions, what I wanted to say, does it matter that I had them in the first place?
I have an issue with self-doubt at the moment. I'm questioning almost everything I do and everything I want to do. It's an attempt to be objective but judging how dreadful I feel about things this morning it's shifted to full-blown pessimism. It may be something to do with working all weekend.
It's not all bad news - an old friend is in town and she makes me smile so big my cheeks hurt. And she's amazing at hugs, as are all the friends she brought. So here's to some big hugs and cheering up.
I took it out, I played with it - successfully transferred all my contacts to it, had a go at the camera which was pretty incredible for a phone. And now I'm at a bit of a loose end. There isn't anyone I need to phone in particular. Or text. And when I take a picture, I want to use a real camera.
And my computers... I'm finding that unless I have something to do - be it email, check something on the net, write, update this blog, load some photos or do some web design, I don't really want to just be using them for the sake of fiddling.
Am I growing out of gadgets? It would be a good thing, particularly for my bank account. But still a considerable rite of passage. Some guys never get over them.
It's like realising that I'm a morning person in denial. I wake up naturally about 7 but for some reason force myself to go back to sleep to be rudely awakened by my alarm and feeling far worse than I did an hour before. I might preempt a New Years resolution and start getting up when I wake up. I'll keep the alarm on for back up.
Anyway... things have been strange over the last couple of days. I feel like I was away for a lot longer than I was. And I had loads of stuff to write. Simple, obvious observations and questions that piqued my curiosity. But I can't quite get a grasp of them. I'm wondering why I write this blog. My mother told me she was surprised by how personal it is. I hadn't noticed at the time. Reading over it, there are a few things discretion should probably have edited. But it's there. There are some things I don't talk about, I suppose. This is accessible to anyone after all.
Originally I meant to use the blog as a means to write everyday, even if I couldn't focus on one of my big projects, I'd be getting stuff out of my head and onto the screen. It wasn't really meant to be a journal, which is what I think it's becoming. If I forget my intentions, what I wanted to say, does it matter that I had them in the first place?
I have an issue with self-doubt at the moment. I'm questioning almost everything I do and everything I want to do. It's an attempt to be objective but judging how dreadful I feel about things this morning it's shifted to full-blown pessimism. It may be something to do with working all weekend.
It's not all bad news - an old friend is in town and she makes me smile so big my cheeks hurt. And she's amazing at hugs, as are all the friends she brought. So here's to some big hugs and cheering up.
W. A. C.
There is a time for silly. This week that time was Monday night. After a day of much work, the clock struck 5 and my mid-week weekend started. So after buying much meat, beer, coffee beans and wine I caught a lift with Sam and the lovely Charlie (for Charlotte, not Charles) and off to Naughton (big house in the middle of nowhere - often the party epicentre of North Fife) we went. Well, we had to stop by Cupar first to pick up Pete W, sous chef extraordinaire and also the bearer of fine booze. Little did we know that there was a bearer of shit booze as well - but more on that later...
So we got to Naughton to find much joy, revelry, beer and football. Pete C was on top form in spite of a 5am start and almost 10 hours driving the horse box up from Hertfordshire. My 2nd girlfriend was from Hertfordshire. Anyway. Lil was there as well and then Ellie, Elise, Dave, Louisa, Harry, Becky, Noel, Kirsty (late, as bloody usual, but she brought great buns... and some bread rolls) all turned up in a staggered arrival pattern. It was a wee bit chilly but the BBQ spirit had taken us and I started making burgers inside while everyone persevered to have fun outside.
That's the 2 Petes (C on the left, W on the right) - In the background you can see Noel telling Lil he'd like to take pictures of her. Or something...
Sadly it was not the weather that perturbed our BBQ in the end... it was a lack of propane. We noticed this when the BBQ was getting colder. Fortunately we hadn't put the burgers on yet and the salad had yet to be tossed. So it transmogrified (total Calvin word there) from a BBQ party to a kitchen party after vein attempts to play football were also aborted.
So we ate burgers, a hastily prepared salad and a massive amount of ice cream, for the lucky there were Stroopwafeln..
Kitchen parties rock. We had the iPod hooked up to the speakers and were talking total nonsense.Then the purveyor of shit booze made themselves known... yes, Sam had brought the legendary, the one and only... Wild Africa Cream, a true train wreck of a drink, combining gag reflex with nausea. We all tried a taste, some from brandy snifters while the more brave, lunatic among us took a slightly different route, choosing instead to face the danger head on, so Pete C grabbed the bottle and tucked in. I stuck to the brandy snifter myself but the result in both cases was the same. It was so unpleasant that the bottle was put aside and beer and wine were used in copious quantities to rinse our violated palates. It was destiny that it would make a reappearance.
Kitchen parties at Naughton consist of loads of silly things happening all at once and nobody really all that sure which particular silliness they're taking part in... this is a good example of the situation... sometimes there is table diving and almost constantly laughter. I'm not entirely sure what everyone is laughing about in this instance but I guess the point comes across. Much hysteria later and we all realised that the kitchen was a terrible mess. So we ran away...
It was suggested that we play charades. So we did. We split into teams and came up with a forfeit... yes, the leopard-spotted beauty returned and the forfeit determined. If you failed to get the charade within 1min. 30sec. then the person charading had to sup Wild Africa Cream from a champagne glass. Unsurprisingly, Dave had to drink after this bewildering effort.
Eventually we ran out of cream... so I made some more from a mix containing tequila, bailey's, malibu, whisky and anything else we could find. That got drunk too. I think that's when we all went to bed. I'm sure there's other stuff, but I can't remember. To be honest, I'm not sure if this all happened as I described it. But it was just what I needed. As was the convalescence that followed. Probably another post that, as I'm tired and need my bed.
So we got to Naughton to find much joy, revelry, beer and football. Pete C was on top form in spite of a 5am start and almost 10 hours driving the horse box up from Hertfordshire. My 2nd girlfriend was from Hertfordshire. Anyway. Lil was there as well and then Ellie, Elise, Dave, Louisa, Harry, Becky, Noel, Kirsty (late, as bloody usual, but she brought great buns... and some bread rolls) all turned up in a staggered arrival pattern. It was a wee bit chilly but the BBQ spirit had taken us and I started making burgers inside while everyone persevered to have fun outside.
That's the 2 Petes (C on the left, W on the right) - In the background you can see Noel telling Lil he'd like to take pictures of her. Or something... Sadly it was not the weather that perturbed our BBQ in the end... it was a lack of propane. We noticed this when the BBQ was getting colder. Fortunately we hadn't put the burgers on yet and the salad had yet to be tossed. So it transmogrified (total Calvin word there) from a BBQ party to a kitchen party after vein attempts to play football were also aborted.
So we ate burgers, a hastily prepared salad and a massive amount of ice cream, for the lucky there were Stroopwafeln..
Kitchen parties rock. We had the iPod hooked up to the speakers and were talking total nonsense.Then the purveyor of shit booze made themselves known... yes, Sam had brought the legendary, the one and only... Wild Africa Cream, a true train wreck of a drink, combining gag reflex with nausea. We all tried a taste, some from brandy snifters while the more brave, lunatic among us took a slightly different route, choosing instead to face the danger head on, so Pete C grabbed the bottle and tucked in. I stuck to the brandy snifter myself but the result in both cases was the same. It was so unpleasant that the bottle was put aside and beer and wine were used in copious quantities to rinse our violated palates. It was destiny that it would make a reappearance.
Kitchen parties at Naughton consist of loads of silly things happening all at once and nobody really all that sure which particular silliness they're taking part in... this is a good example of the situation... sometimes there is table diving and almost constantly laughter. I'm not entirely sure what everyone is laughing about in this instance but I guess the point comes across. Much hysteria later and we all realised that the kitchen was a terrible mess. So we ran away...
It was suggested that we play charades. So we did. We split into teams and came up with a forfeit... yes, the leopard-spotted beauty returned and the forfeit determined. If you failed to get the charade within 1min. 30sec. then the person charading had to sup Wild Africa Cream from a champagne glass. Unsurprisingly, Dave had to drink after this bewildering effort.
Eventually we ran out of cream... so I made some more from a mix containing tequila, bailey's, malibu, whisky and anything else we could find. That got drunk too. I think that's when we all went to bed. I'm sure there's other stuff, but I can't remember. To be honest, I'm not sure if this all happened as I described it. But it was just what I needed. As was the convalescence that followed. Probably another post that, as I'm tired and need my bed.
Pittenweem & Elie
The last day or two have been brilliant. Yesterday a friend of mine in Pittenweem invited myself and my flatmate over to his to watch the harbourside fireworks display celebrating the opening of the nth annual Pittenweem Arts Festival. It's essentially a massive art exhibition with almost a hundred "galleries" - some of them as simple as an artists front room - open for viewing throughout the town. It's made special by a few things. First of all, the town is tiny, pretty much a village, yet the opening and the festival itself attract several thousand visitors. The other thing is that while the fishing industry is sadly dying in this part of the world there is something rising from the ashes. There isn't the desolation that the death of local industry can cause in some places. It gives room for optimism...
So anyway, Andy and I rocked up to Steve's with a case of beer, a case of wine, loads of sausages and my own home-made burgers. I'd never been to Steve's before and the view was amazing.
A few more people started arriving and after a few sausages and a burger we decided to head down and check out the festival itself, so a brief walk and another amazing view
later and we were in the thick of it (that photo is of the Isle of May - the first history of Scotland was written there, in the now ruined monastery). Great atmosphere, good pipe band (a totally different league from the guy who loiters outside the cathedral in St Andrews) and a few pints were had before we went back to Steve's to see the torchlit procession. It was getting dark at this point, so my pictures weren't turning out so well,
but it was quite cool in an almost Frankenstein type way, with the villagers grabbing torches to storm the castle.
The fireworks then started shortly afterwards. I was at the event last year and the haar (sea-fog) was so thick that instead of actually seeing the explosions and hearing the crack there were just muffled booms and technicolour glowing in the clouds - which was cool, but not quite fireworks. This was the real deal this time, the night was clear as could be and I felt like a kid again, wanting each boom and blast to bigger than the last. I tried to get a cool photo, but a photo of a firework is never quite the same. This is the one of about 20 that I like the best:
And it's still not great. I also took a lot with my SLR but have no idea how they turned out yet.
After the fireworks Andy I went back. Quite tired. We questioned why a small fishing village was able to host such a fun, culturally enriching festival while St Andrews got stuck with the bloody Lammas. LA Story was on - a film I have curious affection for.
Today then brought me to Elie, another coastal town in Fife with a fantastic beach within the harbour. The Ship Inn do an outdoor seafood BBQ on Sundays which fit the bill for an awesome lunch. The light kept changing and I tried taking a pic or two using my Oakleys as a filter -
I kind of like it. I think it gives it a bit of sepia tone without being too grainy.
So, a burger and a cajun-spiced salmon on the way we met a new friend, named Fudge. I'm not a big small dog fan. In fact, small dogs have to be extra cool in order to outshine the image of annoying yappy dog in my mind. Fudge succeeded in this - he belonged to the table next to us and was a Norfolk Terrier. I asked if that meant he had webbed feet and either they didn't get the Fens reference, or were horribly offended. I hope it was the former. This is Fudge, being lavished with attention by Jill and Andy while Chris watches.
Lunch was really good, but kind of filling, so I went for a walk to check out the always quiet beach on the other side of the harbour. I wanted to get everyone on a walk but they just fancied going back to play boules in St Andrews. Ah well. 
So anyway, Andy and I rocked up to Steve's with a case of beer, a case of wine, loads of sausages and my own home-made burgers. I'd never been to Steve's before and the view was amazing.
A few more people started arriving and after a few sausages and a burger we decided to head down and check out the festival itself, so a brief walk and another amazing view
later and we were in the thick of it (that photo is of the Isle of May - the first history of Scotland was written there, in the now ruined monastery). Great atmosphere, good pipe band (a totally different league from the guy who loiters outside the cathedral in St Andrews) and a few pints were had before we went back to Steve's to see the torchlit procession. It was getting dark at this point, so my pictures weren't turning out so well,
but it was quite cool in an almost Frankenstein type way, with the villagers grabbing torches to storm the castle.
The fireworks then started shortly afterwards. I was at the event last year and the haar (sea-fog) was so thick that instead of actually seeing the explosions and hearing the crack there were just muffled booms and technicolour glowing in the clouds - which was cool, but not quite fireworks. This was the real deal this time, the night was clear as could be and I felt like a kid again, wanting each boom and blast to bigger than the last. I tried to get a cool photo, but a photo of a firework is never quite the same. This is the one of about 20 that I like the best:
And it's still not great. I also took a lot with my SLR but have no idea how they turned out yet. After the fireworks Andy I went back. Quite tired. We questioned why a small fishing village was able to host such a fun, culturally enriching festival while St Andrews got stuck with the bloody Lammas. LA Story was on - a film I have curious affection for.
Today then brought me to Elie, another coastal town in Fife with a fantastic beach within the harbour. The Ship Inn do an outdoor seafood BBQ on Sundays which fit the bill for an awesome lunch. The light kept changing and I tried taking a pic or two using my Oakleys as a filter -
I kind of like it. I think it gives it a bit of sepia tone without being too grainy. So, a burger and a cajun-spiced salmon on the way we met a new friend, named Fudge. I'm not a big small dog fan. In fact, small dogs have to be extra cool in order to outshine the image of annoying yappy dog in my mind. Fudge succeeded in this - he belonged to the table next to us and was a Norfolk Terrier. I asked if that meant he had webbed feet and either they didn't get the Fens reference, or were horribly offended. I hope it was the former. This is Fudge, being lavished with attention by Jill and Andy while Chris watches.
Lunch was really good, but kind of filling, so I went for a walk to check out the always quiet beach on the other side of the harbour. I wanted to get everyone on a walk but they just fancied going back to play boules in St Andrews. Ah well. 
Cadiz pics
These are the crazy city walls that defend the old city of Cadiz. Those road entrances were only added in the 50s. For hundreds of years before hand the only entrance was that central gate. 
This is the only decent shot I got of the cathedral due to my poor navigation skills. Still, you can see how it's half marble and half oyster stone (that's the local stone). 
This is one of the forts that defended the city, with Graeme looking out for enemy warships. He didn't find any, so we went to lunch.
This is where we had lunch. Those are real pig legs hanging from the ceiling. It was brilliant.
These are the Cruzcampo beer taps. Bronzed pig legs. Now that's a beer tap, none of this rubbish tennents with neon red "T"s. 
The whole city juts out into the Atlantic and is protected by these enourmous sea walls. I would have loved to see it during a storm but was happy that the weather, aside from a bit of rain when we first got there, was quite nice.
Those hills, across the water and partially obscured by mist... that's Africa. Graeme and I were giddy when it clicked. Across that water and behind those hills: the vast continental expanse stretched beyond. It was a very strange and wonderful feeling. Like, oh, around that corner, that's a continent.
Jerez part the last...
This last batch of notes seem a great deal more coherent than any of the others, due to most of the day being spent in a car, giving me a lot of time to write.
"Fri 13 May
Got away in good time though Puertal a bit of a mystery - we tried for a good 20 min. to get into the city befroe deciding to fuck it & go straight to Cadiz, which was stunning.
The bridge across the bay from the North gives the misleading impression of an island - though it's nice to be leaving the industrial Puero Real behind.
Ave de Andalucia along the neck of the peninsula reminded me of Miami & not in a good way. Mostly tasteless highrises with the exception of Hotel Playa Victoria - quite tasteful.
The entry to the old city is monumental. The ancient city walls are around 10 metres thick (perhaps more). Gives the impression of a city very much used to siege. We sort of follow the flow of traffic and, on the way to finding a parking space find the bus stop where the tour bus takes off from.
Find parking under Plaza St Antonio. I remember the plaza from the Jerez tour map (flip side: Cadiz). It's poretty central & I have the Rough Guide out to find lunch & points of interest. We stumble upon the topiary gardens (name?) & some other Boulevards that look over the Bahia Cadiz. I thought the Ficus were Mangrove trees. Only in retrospect does this seem as stupid as it is.
The guide points to 2 potentially brillianrt lunch spots very close by (plaza?) - but first breakfast. Graeme & I both seem keen on some places & less on others. I'm beginning to really like Cadiz. We agree on café con leche e tostados at Salon Italiano.
We wander to the bus stop via PLaza de Espana - pic opp - then get on the tour bus. Pretty girl collecting tickets. My headphones didn't work to start. Something about an electric clock & Ben Franklin.
Leave the old town along the West Side and see the beaches - huge - surfers, ugly buildings, moving cemetary (!)
Back to old town - neoclassical prison, now courthouse, Friary where the last stand against the French took place early 19C, Cathedral - took 122 years to build due to the decline of the city, originally to be ENTIRELY marble, but oyster stone used eventually. Nice forts. After tour we seek Cathedral and fail due to my total ineptitude with a map. Along the way we find the Market which looks AMAZING & see loads of the back streets - really love Cadiz.
*POI - the fishermen paint houses different colours to make it easier to see off shore (apparently) - go to the fort - very thick walls. Stunning views. Hotel Atlantico: State owned 5 stars. Royal family stay there.Lunch @ Cumbres Mayores - what a bar/restaurant/deli! Beer taps are bronzed Jamon joints! Food is amazing - salt cod and anchovie sarnies that have incredible flavour, jamon amazing, Graeme orders chorizo & stew that rock! As good as it was, as we left I spy the seafood bar across the street & feel a pang of regret. Next time... & there will be a next time!
Mistake with parking ticket & we're out of there with all of our stuff. I was a bit nervous. Half a mind to see the cathedral on the way out but Cadiz traffic conspires against us. Oh well. Next time.
Drive is punctuated by CD player hiccups until Tariffe when the scenery becomes very interesting & incredibly, we see Africa. Don't think any of my high velocity photos will have come out worth a shit but still... to see Africa...
We pass Gibraltar & decide to let it pass for the sake of time & it being full of sunburned English wankers.
The closer to Malaga we get the more distasteful Spain becomes. Far too many signs in English, far too many golf courses, far too many HIDEOUS developments. The incredible majesty of the hills that these colonies lay at the foot of make it more sad. Good for the economy etc. & all that nonsense, but it does nothing for my sense of the aesthetic.
After a bit of a farce trying to refuel the car before handing it back we get to the airport & spend 90 min waiting for the wrong checkin desk to open, paying too much for beer and thinking the food has dropped in quality since Cadiz. Malaga airport sucks, & checkin, when we got to the right desk, reinforced my hatred of golfers considerably. Deepened by the number of total fucking arseholses with excess luggage that made the checkin process molasses slow. Fucking 90kg each. Wankers.
Bought a bit of ham & pork loin for Andy. Airport food indescribably bad. Bonus in GIANT SAN MIGUEL NOSTRO. Wow. Good buzz for the flight. Fit stewardess as well. Take off close to on time. Assigned seats & chairs with pockets a bonus. My own bed tonight... ah well"
So that was my holiday... monumentally boring to most people, though most people don't read this blog. But Graeme, I hope you read it and it stirred up some memories because when/if you come back from Australia we have to go back. Last batch of pics will be up soon.
"Fri 13 May
Got away in good time though Puertal a bit of a mystery - we tried for a good 20 min. to get into the city befroe deciding to fuck it & go straight to Cadiz, which was stunning.
The bridge across the bay from the North gives the misleading impression of an island - though it's nice to be leaving the industrial Puero Real behind.
Ave de Andalucia along the neck of the peninsula reminded me of Miami & not in a good way. Mostly tasteless highrises with the exception of Hotel Playa Victoria - quite tasteful.
The entry to the old city is monumental. The ancient city walls are around 10 metres thick (perhaps more). Gives the impression of a city very much used to siege. We sort of follow the flow of traffic and, on the way to finding a parking space find the bus stop where the tour bus takes off from.
Find parking under Plaza St Antonio. I remember the plaza from the Jerez tour map (flip side: Cadiz). It's poretty central & I have the Rough Guide out to find lunch & points of interest. We stumble upon the topiary gardens (name?) & some other Boulevards that look over the Bahia Cadiz. I thought the Ficus were Mangrove trees. Only in retrospect does this seem as stupid as it is.
The guide points to 2 potentially brillianrt lunch spots very close by (plaza?) - but first breakfast. Graeme & I both seem keen on some places & less on others. I'm beginning to really like Cadiz. We agree on café con leche e tostados at Salon Italiano.
We wander to the bus stop via PLaza de Espana - pic opp - then get on the tour bus. Pretty girl collecting tickets. My headphones didn't work to start. Something about an electric clock & Ben Franklin.
Leave the old town along the West Side and see the beaches - huge - surfers, ugly buildings, moving cemetary (!)
Back to old town - neoclassical prison, now courthouse, Friary where the last stand against the French took place early 19C, Cathedral - took 122 years to build due to the decline of the city, originally to be ENTIRELY marble, but oyster stone used eventually. Nice forts. After tour we seek Cathedral and fail due to my total ineptitude with a map. Along the way we find the Market which looks AMAZING & see loads of the back streets - really love Cadiz.
*POI - the fishermen paint houses different colours to make it easier to see off shore (apparently) - go to the fort - very thick walls. Stunning views. Hotel Atlantico: State owned 5 stars. Royal family stay there.Lunch @ Cumbres Mayores - what a bar/restaurant/deli! Beer taps are bronzed Jamon joints! Food is amazing - salt cod and anchovie sarnies that have incredible flavour, jamon amazing, Graeme orders chorizo & stew that rock! As good as it was, as we left I spy the seafood bar across the street & feel a pang of regret. Next time... & there will be a next time!
Mistake with parking ticket & we're out of there with all of our stuff. I was a bit nervous. Half a mind to see the cathedral on the way out but Cadiz traffic conspires against us. Oh well. Next time.
Drive is punctuated by CD player hiccups until Tariffe when the scenery becomes very interesting & incredibly, we see Africa. Don't think any of my high velocity photos will have come out worth a shit but still... to see Africa...
We pass Gibraltar & decide to let it pass for the sake of time & it being full of sunburned English wankers.
The closer to Malaga we get the more distasteful Spain becomes. Far too many signs in English, far too many golf courses, far too many HIDEOUS developments. The incredible majesty of the hills that these colonies lay at the foot of make it more sad. Good for the economy etc. & all that nonsense, but it does nothing for my sense of the aesthetic.
After a bit of a farce trying to refuel the car before handing it back we get to the airport & spend 90 min waiting for the wrong checkin desk to open, paying too much for beer and thinking the food has dropped in quality since Cadiz. Malaga airport sucks, & checkin, when we got to the right desk, reinforced my hatred of golfers considerably. Deepened by the number of total fucking arseholses with excess luggage that made the checkin process molasses slow. Fucking 90kg each. Wankers.
Bought a bit of ham & pork loin for Andy. Airport food indescribably bad. Bonus in GIANT SAN MIGUEL NOSTRO. Wow. Good buzz for the flight. Fit stewardess as well. Take off close to on time. Assigned seats & chairs with pockets a bonus. My own bed tonight... ah well"
So that was my holiday... monumentally boring to most people, though most people don't read this blog. But Graeme, I hope you read it and it stirred up some memories because when/if you come back from Australia we have to go back. Last batch of pics will be up soon.
The calm before the tat storm...
It's quiet in the shop right now. The rides haven't started yet. There's a nintendo "fun house" ride parked in front of us. A sign that says "Fun House Power Unit" sits at eye level when I look out the window. Hmmm... is sabatoge a crime if performed for the benefit of good taste and my sanity? Are the specially trained dinosaurs ready yet?
I should go some way to explain this... Once a year, around traditional Lammas festival time, something called the Lammas Fair arrives in St Andrews. Far from being a traditional mediaeval harvest market, it is a ridiculous carnival they shove not on the outskirts of town, but on two of the three main streets, denying vehicle access, making a racket, causing a severe fire hazard and attracting the scum of humanity to our fine town. We lose business, have to stand guard against potential shop lifters and have to endure bad quality sound effects pumped at obnoxious volumes through terrible speakers. It's allowed to continue this because it claims to be a traditional Lammas Market... I studied mediaeval history at St Andrews and somehow the mention of mechanised rides and candy floss at a 15th century market eluded me. Maybe it's in the Crowland Chronicle...
The good news is that I'm escaping and not once, but twice. Next week I'm at Naughton for 3 days partying, watching polo, drinking beer, drinking wine and getting caught up with the Dining Club.
Then a mere 10 days later is the Festival Cup with its cast of thousands (note to self: appreciate bed at Naughton while you can) and then I'm off to London for 5 days. The latter will be extra cool as I get to see my friend Kate play at the Regent Street Apple Store. That's on 23 August and anyone in London should try to get to see it as it will be brilliant and, best of all, free! So get there early.
I decided to use a lot of links in this post... and to add one more, go check out this. It's brilliant. Bunnies. Heh.
I should go some way to explain this... Once a year, around traditional Lammas festival time, something called the Lammas Fair arrives in St Andrews. Far from being a traditional mediaeval harvest market, it is a ridiculous carnival they shove not on the outskirts of town, but on two of the three main streets, denying vehicle access, making a racket, causing a severe fire hazard and attracting the scum of humanity to our fine town. We lose business, have to stand guard against potential shop lifters and have to endure bad quality sound effects pumped at obnoxious volumes through terrible speakers. It's allowed to continue this because it claims to be a traditional Lammas Market... I studied mediaeval history at St Andrews and somehow the mention of mechanised rides and candy floss at a 15th century market eluded me. Maybe it's in the Crowland Chronicle...
The good news is that I'm escaping and not once, but twice. Next week I'm at Naughton for 3 days partying, watching polo, drinking beer, drinking wine and getting caught up with the Dining Club.
Then a mere 10 days later is the Festival Cup with its cast of thousands (note to self: appreciate bed at Naughton while you can) and then I'm off to London for 5 days. The latter will be extra cool as I get to see my friend Kate play at the Regent Street Apple Store. That's on 23 August and anyone in London should try to get to see it as it will be brilliant and, best of all, free! So get there early.
I decided to use a lot of links in this post... and to add one more, go check out this. It's brilliant. Bunnies. Heh.
Bagpipes...
The dreadful bagpiper that inflicts his talentless tunes upon passers-by at the cathedral is playing Billy Connolly's "Wellies" song. On the bagpipe. It's atrocious. I needed to share that. One more person going on the "specially-trained dinosaurs" list.
Jerez pics 4
This is the old tasting room at Gonzalez Byass. It was roped off when Manuel Maria Gonzalez died in the 1880s and has remained untouched since then. That's Vikki on the right. She's 5th generation Gonzalez and a gracious hostess.
I had to get a picture of the barrel signed by Spielberg because I'm a film geek. I should've got a shot of the one signed by Cole Porter as well, but I'm a fool. Ah well.
I wish I could do this. It's really impressive when you see it done, and I'm pleased this shot came out so well, but it's still nowhere near as cool as seeing it done in person.
This was our last night - amazing light and in the left you can see the Tio Pepe weather vein which is the largest weather vein in the world. Graeme didn't get what the fuss was about.
Graeme having dined hugely on our last night.
Me having dined hugely on our last night.
Jerez part the fourth...
This was our last full day in Jerez and the only day of bad weather.
"Thurs. am Gonzalez Byass
Pouring with rain, main entrance, not visitors entrance. Quite beautiful
Bit nerve-wracking as it seems a bit more formal & imposing than Lustau. We're waiting in the library, surrounded by massive volumes on booze.
Gonzalez Byass tour wonderful - 850 hectares they own directly and another 500 which they control.
Apostoles Bodegas - barrel called "Christ" created for Queen Liz II of Spain as she wanted to see crushing but she visited very late Oct. so few grapes about - all wine went into "Christ." Apostles created to compliment but only 1 Judas - Mateo to replace traitor.
Main bodegas built in the '60s with huge weathervein & 3 levels, each with 1000s of barrels.
"Tio Pepe" Uncle Joe wanted to bring fino to the masses - beforehand most export was oloroso. We saw the original solera celler.
'Solera' from the word for soil. Older sherries topped up in intervals of 5 years.
Palo Cortado universally agreed to be a total mystery. Tio Pepe ave. 5 years though up 50 harvests present in each batch. Crazy.
Vikki really lovely & enthusiastic.
Dude who does the crazy pour was even more impressive than I expected. Cafe reception area built into the giant bodegas. Invited Vikki to Scotland.
Very much a sense that in spite of its size this is still a hands-on family business creating hand crafted products (though Vikki did admit that modernisation was ongoing). The tour was wonderful with Vikki's enthusasm for the family business quite intoxicating.
In both cases, Lustau & Gonzalez Byass, vinification was somewhat a mystery, taking place off-site. The impression was very much that it is the process, the nurture during solera & single barrel ageing that produces the defining characteristics & while my inherent curiosity regarding viticultural practices & vinification was unfulfilled, my respect for the peculiarities of these wines, and the huge variation within palomino from fino to oloroso to amontillado to palo cortado has grown considerably. I find myself drawing comparison with Champagne, anotherplace where the process of creation is a great deal more important or is in fact greater than the sum of its parts.
Lunch at Bar Juanitos - eggs & tatties a treat!
We tried the siesta thing before getting car rental sorted. Worked a treat 230-430 out like a light. We packed as well. Took an hour to sort out where to put all the bloody sherry I've bought.
Hotel staff were incredibly helpful with getting car sorted for us. Graeme a total legend with car rental - off to the airport to pick it up now.
Car guy was very helpful as well & we got a free upgrade to a pretty sweet Peugeot 307. It has a stereo too so we mixed some cds and should have some amazing road trip tunes!
A final fino at Nonos was lovely, followed by a walk through the quieter, residential side of town. We're now at the Plaza de la Asuncion, where we had our first decent meal here, to have our last decent meal here. Fitting I think - we've ordered a lot.
Ruevueltos Jerez (wild aparagus, ham, eggs)
Tuna Croquettes
Carrots & Coriander seeds
beet root & onions
Pork sirloin wrapped in ham with an oloroso cream
Albondigas (pork & beef) with tomato sauce
Really lovely meal , sitting in the square.
*Some oddities - loads of construction going on, loads of dog shit, just how fucking long is the siesta anyway?*
Really looking forward to Cadiz tomorrow - somewhat strange to think I'll be in my own bed tomorrow evening.
I'd like to think that, considering the language gap, we've emersed ourselves pretty well, steered clear of other tourists, We've done quite a bit in our brief time here and as such it feels we've been here both longer (but ina nice, familiar way) and shorter (in wondering where the time has gone)"
So there it is. Sorry about all the technical wine stuff.
"Thurs. am Gonzalez Byass
Pouring with rain, main entrance, not visitors entrance. Quite beautiful
Bit nerve-wracking as it seems a bit more formal & imposing than Lustau. We're waiting in the library, surrounded by massive volumes on booze.
Gonzalez Byass tour wonderful - 850 hectares they own directly and another 500 which they control.
Apostoles Bodegas - barrel called "Christ" created for Queen Liz II of Spain as she wanted to see crushing but she visited very late Oct. so few grapes about - all wine went into "Christ." Apostles created to compliment but only 1 Judas - Mateo to replace traitor.
Main bodegas built in the '60s with huge weathervein & 3 levels, each with 1000s of barrels.
"Tio Pepe" Uncle Joe wanted to bring fino to the masses - beforehand most export was oloroso. We saw the original solera celler.
'Solera' from the word for soil. Older sherries topped up in intervals of 5 years.
Palo Cortado universally agreed to be a total mystery. Tio Pepe ave. 5 years though up 50 harvests present in each batch. Crazy.
Vikki really lovely & enthusiastic.
Dude who does the crazy pour was even more impressive than I expected. Cafe reception area built into the giant bodegas. Invited Vikki to Scotland.
Very much a sense that in spite of its size this is still a hands-on family business creating hand crafted products (though Vikki did admit that modernisation was ongoing). The tour was wonderful with Vikki's enthusasm for the family business quite intoxicating.
In both cases, Lustau & Gonzalez Byass, vinification was somewhat a mystery, taking place off-site. The impression was very much that it is the process, the nurture during solera & single barrel ageing that produces the defining characteristics & while my inherent curiosity regarding viticultural practices & vinification was unfulfilled, my respect for the peculiarities of these wines, and the huge variation within palomino from fino to oloroso to amontillado to palo cortado has grown considerably. I find myself drawing comparison with Champagne, anotherplace where the process of creation is a great deal more important or is in fact greater than the sum of its parts.
Lunch at Bar Juanitos - eggs & tatties a treat!
We tried the siesta thing before getting car rental sorted. Worked a treat 230-430 out like a light. We packed as well. Took an hour to sort out where to put all the bloody sherry I've bought.
Hotel staff were incredibly helpful with getting car sorted for us. Graeme a total legend with car rental - off to the airport to pick it up now.
Car guy was very helpful as well & we got a free upgrade to a pretty sweet Peugeot 307. It has a stereo too so we mixed some cds and should have some amazing road trip tunes!
A final fino at Nonos was lovely, followed by a walk through the quieter, residential side of town. We're now at the Plaza de la Asuncion, where we had our first decent meal here, to have our last decent meal here. Fitting I think - we've ordered a lot.
Ruevueltos Jerez (wild aparagus, ham, eggs)
Tuna Croquettes
Carrots & Coriander seeds
beet root & onions
Pork sirloin wrapped in ham with an oloroso cream
Albondigas (pork & beef) with tomato sauce
Really lovely meal , sitting in the square.
*Some oddities - loads of construction going on, loads of dog shit, just how fucking long is the siesta anyway?*
Really looking forward to Cadiz tomorrow - somewhat strange to think I'll be in my own bed tomorrow evening.
I'd like to think that, considering the language gap, we've emersed ourselves pretty well, steered clear of other tourists, We've done quite a bit in our brief time here and as such it feels we've been here both longer (but ina nice, familiar way) and shorter (in wondering where the time has gone)"
So there it is. Sorry about all the technical wine stuff.
Jurassic Market...
The gypsies have arrived in St Andrews, with their rides and their candy floss. We don't like them. I certainly don't like them. So I think we should, during the lammas market, unleash specially trained dinosaurs upon them, to rend their flesh and make them go away. Will innocent people be hurt? No, because they'll be specially trained. The dinosaurs, not the innocent people. Mark my words.