Up on the roof

On July 11, 2014December 4, 2014 By Conversations with StrangersIn LifeLeave a comment

London. A bastion of buildings with no views.

“I’ll meet you at the cafe – top of John Lewis” I said to my cuz. “Um, not sure how much I like a department store restaurant, S”. “Well, there are big windows, R” I replied. “Let’s try and see the sky when it’s this blue.”

I got to that most comforting of stores and asked for the correct floor. “You do know we’ve got a roof top garden at the moment, don’t you?” a helpful assistant told me at the entrance. “No?!” “Yes! It’s to celebrate our 150 year anniversary.”

I didn’t need to be told twice and texted to tell my coffee morning companion.

At the fifth floor a hundred assistants showed me the way to the roof – John Lewis didn’t want me to miss this, that was for sure judging by the number of people trying to get me there.

I wandered around the corner to see a lady handing out see through umbrellas – just in case. ‘Welcome to the roof garden!” she said.

I stepped out onto green everything. Astro turfed from wall to wall, gazebos, ‘grassed’ over seating, a bandstand, large TV screens, deck chairs and plants galore. What a sight! I smiled as calm immediately descended on my mood and I headed for the ‘pop-up’ juice bar.

“What’ll it be?” I was asked by three boys manning the blender. Fresh avocados, carrots, bananas and strawberries stood to attention as I purused the menu.

My chat with Matt, Luke and Craig led onto all things music. “Apparently there’s just one guy on Radio 1 who says yea or nay to all the new releases – so I’ve heard.” “I’ve been on Radio 1 actually” Matt said. “Really? What as?” I replied looking at his curly adventurous hair, t shirt slashed to the navel and chunky earring. “A stripper” he said, laughing. “No, seriously, I’m a singer.” “He’s a very good singer” Luke chipped in.

We exchanged (new) Twitter addresses. “I think I’m ‘at’ – you know, like the ‘@‘ sign ..?” I gesticulated. “Didn’t see that one coming!” Matt said. He keyed in the address and read aloud ‘This Friday’s post dedicated to John McEnroe.’ “Is that the tennis player?” he asked. Then, “Sure, I’ll follow you.”

My cuz arrived as Lattes won the day. We sat in the kids corner. “Isn’t this great, R?” I said as the sun beamed down, “And, they’ve got wi fi.”

Scandinavians

On July 4, 2014December 4, 2014 By Conversations with StrangersIn Art1 Comment

What is it about Scandinavians at the moment? They seem to be everywhere – or is it just me?

Edward Thomasson appears to have that sort of a name. But, once inside the blacked out car on the way to the after party of his exhibition, he didn’t have even the faintest accent that suggested he was from Nordic climes.

“I like your video immensely” I said to him. “I had to look at it a couple of times to work it out – to try and make sense of what it all meant.” “Yes, that’s what I wanted the audience to do” he replied. “It’s like at the end of the film the policeman says ‘We’re sitting on the fence – we have to piece it together’”.

Video art installations often leave me cold, but I had found myself quite gripped by this one – of course my cousin is in it – a draw in itself. Nevertheless the often opaque nature of art was rendered less so in this instance by a mystery, an invitation to think and figure out what had happened. It required some sleuth like skills and provoked the intellect.

At Bistroteque in E2 the party was starting. Everywhere I looked in the outer easterly environs of London things were alive, energy was tangible and the beards something else. Perhaps this had something to do with my latest thinking that the Nordics are omnipresent? But, that’s a ridiculous stereotype for a start.

I talked to one of the girls who had played a policewoman in the film. “How did you get this acting part – is it also your day job? I asked. “No, no, not at all. I was in Broadway market one weekend and saw a sign up saying ‘Open Auditions’”. “Did you know you’d have to sing when you were offered it?” “No, but I used to sing in a choir and I just felt like doing something different – I didn’t realise Edward would give me a solo!”

I spotted my super talented cousin, Rebecca, across a room full of facial and further fashionable manifestations of hair. The East to West London journey beckoned. “You can’t go – the dancing’s about to start!” said Laura. Sure enough shapes were being thrown by a solo male as other people started to shake the odd limb nearby.

Nevertheless, we said goodbyes to various cast members, and Soosan – the composer of the film score…

Once home I googled the name: It seems the origins are not Scandinavian, but Persian. I contemplated the night through my window, then drew the blinds. It would appear we’re looking at a thicker plot.

The Lemon Drop express

On July 3, 2014December 4, 2014 By Conversations with StrangersIn Food and drinks, Travel/vacationsLeave a comment

Unlike rain, Lemon Drops have the very opposite effect of dampening one’s spirits. In fact they’re positively conducive to finding almost anything funny. For example, like propelling a person in five inch wedges up a staircase to a stage, attempting victory in a game identifying the film that the music playing belongs to – at the speed of light.

“It’s a great combination” Luke said at breakfast the next day. “A couple of Lemon Drops and some improv games” (at you know where: www.clubmed.co.uk).

I couldn’t believe the hilarity of the penultimate jeu. Four members of the audience were selected to sing into a microphone while the song they were supposed to croon along to blasted out of the speakers.

A clever trick, it resulted in a playback 20 minutes later of all four participants’ efforts with the entire theatre listening. I laughed so much that my stomach hurt.

In the final game, the theatre was split into two sides with the team to build the highest tower of all its member’s shoes the winners. In a Benny Hill type moment footwear was removed in fast forward time. A gentleman bravely stood on top of Team 1’s pile with a pair of sparkly ballet pumps on his head.

Suddenly it all came back to me: The camaraderie and inclusiveness of Club Med. I had new ‘friends’ and I felt like I belonged. It’s those magic ingredients that make it one of the most successful all inclusive holidays ever.

By the time we got to the ‘Nite’ the Responsable Animation took my hand, pointed in the direction of the limbo pole in the middle of the dancefloor and asked me if I’d be his partner in crime. “Mais non!” I exclaimed. “But, please could we have some crazy signs instead?”

No sooner said than done. The music started and the dancefloor crowded with the energy of a night that had come together in a quintessential Club Med way. Michael the DJ played Michael again and several other great tunes with a sensibility that belied his youthful years.

At lunch the next day a woman next to me said “Ah, vous dancez hier soir beaucoup!” – or words to that effect. Later on, a Belgian gentleman asked me what activities I did when I was here. “A bit of Ping Pong” I replied.“ “..and you dance” he said. “You saw me too?!” I exclaimed. “Yes, two nights ago.”

What can I say: When in Rome.

You cannot be serious

On June 27, 2014December 4, 2014 By Conversations with StrangersIn Life, SportLeave a comment

Our texts were gobbledegook, such was the state of excitement between us. ‘Just put of that match think you need Gate 1 I’m wondering so txt when you near I will come’ beeped my phone.

Wimbledon! For the first time in years for me and as many for Foxy.

I hurried down the time honoured route from Southfields Underground Station passing a lengthy queue and the greenery of the height of summer: Horse chestnut trees hanging, deep green in a sultry fashion verging on languorous; Buddleia, full purple with that sweet scent that reminds you of honey…and Red Admiral butterflies.

A few obligatory snaps and an outside court game later, we were in watching the match of the day. ‘It doesn’t look that busy in here, that’s for sure” I said to Foxy, already talking like McEnroe and looking towards the commentary box in Centre Court.

A warm breeze drifted through carrying the odd conversation with it – magnified within this oval shaped ‘vessel’ that, despite its size, creates intimacy and strangeness at the same time. From some rows back came: “Come on Radek! Have a banana! That’s what Tim used to do.”

I looked up to see a summer scudding sky encircled by the architectural roof – so surreal that I wondered if I was really there.

Eventually the light started to fade and it was time to leave this most unique place.

I walked past lush hedges and hanging baskets of purple and white blooms – on a final mission now to get a photo of the star commentator. Memories of watching him and his counterparts play back in the day always flood back at this time of year; meeting him was the only thing I could think of that would be the icing on today’s cake.

Terry at the Press Centre gave me a cola and a tip: “He’s into the football – comes out here after the broadcast and checks the scores on the screen. Keep looking up at the balcony – if he decides to come down, I’ll take the photo.”

My hopes were high but it was not to be. No sooner was his stint with Ms Austin finished on TV than I discovered he’d left through another exit. “You may not have recognised him anyway – he usually wears a hat and dark glasses” I was told.

Never mind. I sent him a tweet, contenting myself with the thought that just maybe somewhere, he was sitting with a glass of lemonade, checking his phone, and reading it. It’s a possibility – let’s be honest.

What’s in a name?

On June 24, 2014December 4, 2014 By Conversations with StrangersIn Ibiza, Life, Travel/vacationsLeave a comment

It was early. Very early for Ibiza, but when you’re on a tight schedule with work to do and a beach bicycle to procure – needs must.

San Jordi Flea Market was quiet at 10am on a Saturday morning. “Right, I think last week the bikes were over by the fence” T said. The boys started to head in that direction but I broke off. “Back here at 11am, S” A instructed.

I left them to it, after all there can be no finer experts in this particular type of hunting than a couple of mountain bike trail blazers.

Sunshine shone on an assortment of stalls offering everything from tablecloths to vintage record players, ornamental ducks to jewellery, books, clothes, and dolphin clocks. This was a market with everything.

One €1.30 coffee later, I spied the boys. “Any luck?” I asked. “Yeah, well we found one but it’s overpriced and he won’t give it to us for any less.” “How much?” “€40. But there could be any number of things wrong with it – and we don’t want to get a call from you saying: ‘Pick me up, the chain’s come off.’” A said.

“It was a good bike” said T slowly.

We went to take a look at her. There was a fair amount of standing around, hands on hips, investigating further. “Take her for a spin, S. See what you think.” I thought she was mighty fine – but I feel at home on practically any bicycle so I was in my element. “I’ll give you something towards it on the grounds I can use it when I’m here over the summer.”

The deal was done and I cycled her back to the van. “How about Betswana for a name” T asked. “Hmmm, not sure.” I lifted her into the back of the Ford Transit and A propped her up carefully.

Next stop was the beach. “Fancy jumping off some rocks today S?” A asked. “No! Definitely not!” T turned around and smiled. “How about we call her ‘Sarah’?” I shrieked with delight. A took a while to respond. “Yeah, okay, that’s a nice name for her” he concurred.

Back at the casa early evening I ventured towards the garage. The boys were about eight beers down and Sarah was propped up in a faint state of disarray. “We’ve stripped her down; the grease had turned into glue – like sap from a tree. She’s looking sweet now though. Want to take her for a spin?”