Being a sober sort of driver, I rarely dabble with the fast lane. I consider myself a sober sort of person but there's the occasional flirtation with the fast lane lifestyle.
I took an early morning train from St Pancras International on Wednesday and it propelled me to Paris.
Just as we neared the capital I phoned to summon the family to meet me at the cafe over the road from home. However I was informed the girls had stayed out overnight with their chums.
The boy was brought to me in the cafe where he proceeded to gnaw and drool his way through bits of tartine. Ah sharing.
Wednesday is a high octane day even when I start the day in Paris. The girls have their activities and the boy usually has his swimming lesson.
I traipsed off with the eldest to her capoeira class and headed straight to the radio station.
There is no end of fun at the moment in the world of sport. The papers are full of the meltdown at Chelsea and then there's also the prospect of Andy Murray becoming the first male British tennis player to win a grand slam.
From what I've seen on the TV at the start of the season, he does have a good chance. He has beaten Rafael Nadal and Roger Federer - the world number one and two this season and from those matches, I'd say he's got the game to win the big prize in Melbourne.
Against Federer he rallies him à la Nadal and lures the increasingly error prone Swiss into a state of impatient frustration. Against Nadal he trades punch for punch. It's very impressive.
Fast lane Wednesday has now eased into mundane Thursday. A simple case of taking the boy to creche, the radio station and some yoga afterwards.
Altogether more zen.
Wednesday, 14 January 2009
Tuesday, 13 January 2009
The Reader
My affair with Germany started round about 1970 when my family went there to visit my mum's friend Sigi. My sister and I were sent down the lane to a farm to buy 'Zwei Liter Milch und zehn Eier.'
Nearly 40 years and a degree in German later, I went to see the Reader starring Kate Winslet and Ralph Fiennes. Without giving away the twists - 16 year old takes up with older woman one lust swollen summer. He reads to her and she repays him in sexual kind.
But she clears out when a guilty secret might be revealed. Many years later and she's in prison where he sends tapes to her of the books they went through during that long lost summer. Classic tomes such as The Odyssey and Emilia Galotti. After listening to a tale from Schiller, she writes back to the Reader and tells him: "Schiller needs a woman."
My chuckle did slightly pierce through the silence of the cinema but it was a good take on the man. Actually I was slightly irked that I hadn't used that line while at university. Obviously too callow.
The Reader was frustrating because it hinted at issues of guilt and responsibility but the protagonists weren't expansively drawn and I couldn't really plunge into their dilemmas. The film was about two hours long but it could have done with another 20 minutes to have more visceral impact. It's supposed to be an Oscar contender. Es war gut... aber.....
I might buy the book to see what that's like.
On that subject I've bought over to London Primo Levi's Moments of Reprieve. I have yet to open it. Levi managed to elude the slaughter at Auschwitz - probably just as well I've not started.
Nearly 40 years and a degree in German later, I went to see the Reader starring Kate Winslet and Ralph Fiennes. Without giving away the twists - 16 year old takes up with older woman one lust swollen summer. He reads to her and she repays him in sexual kind.
But she clears out when a guilty secret might be revealed. Many years later and she's in prison where he sends tapes to her of the books they went through during that long lost summer. Classic tomes such as The Odyssey and Emilia Galotti. After listening to a tale from Schiller, she writes back to the Reader and tells him: "Schiller needs a woman."
My chuckle did slightly pierce through the silence of the cinema but it was a good take on the man. Actually I was slightly irked that I hadn't used that line while at university. Obviously too callow.
The Reader was frustrating because it hinted at issues of guilt and responsibility but the protagonists weren't expansively drawn and I couldn't really plunge into their dilemmas. The film was about two hours long but it could have done with another 20 minutes to have more visceral impact. It's supposed to be an Oscar contender. Es war gut... aber.....
I might buy the book to see what that's like.
On that subject I've bought over to London Primo Levi's Moments of Reprieve. I have yet to open it. Levi managed to elude the slaughter at Auschwitz - probably just as well I've not started.
Sunday, 11 January 2009
The Fatigue
Wooed by the price I booked up for the 0713 from Paris to London. If I’d taken the train an hour later the cost would have effectively doubled. If I’d tried to take a train that arrived shortly before I’m due to start work, then I would in essence be giving all the day’s earnings to Eurostar.
I was useless at science and not that gifted at maths at school, but even I realised that was not a good deal. So the 0713 it was.
I set the alarm for 6.10 – figuring I could be up, up and away by 6.30.
I woke convinced that I’d not heard the alarm. In a surge of commendable agility, I was out of bed without disturbing the missus and into the sitting room to check the alarm.
It was 4.10. Sadly the concoction of chemicals that had just allowed me such speed and silence didn’t subside and 20 minutes later I was still awake.
Rather than the BBC World Service fail-safe, I thought I’d put on the TV and lull myself back into sleep with one of the children’s cartoons.
Obviously the boy got wind of what was going on. I heard his footsteps and switched off the box. In he came and promptly planted himself on the sofa.
What a treat - a hot water bottle all for me. So I lay there waiting for him to go back to sleep before returning him to his bed.
I tried the TV trick again and he was back.
I gave up the struggle and took the headphones out of the TV and stuck them into the radio to listen to World Service perched on the edge of the sofa with my snoring hot water bottle.
After the updates on the bombs in Gaza and gas pipeline disputes between Russia and Ukraine, there was a piece on International Year of Astronomy. They had men from places with big telescopes and they were talking about going into schools and getting pupils to buy little telescopes that could be easily constructed so that a sense of awe and wonder would be fired about the universe.
That’s a good idea I thought as I drifted off into space.
I was useless at science and not that gifted at maths at school, but even I realised that was not a good deal. So the 0713 it was.
I set the alarm for 6.10 – figuring I could be up, up and away by 6.30.
I woke convinced that I’d not heard the alarm. In a surge of commendable agility, I was out of bed without disturbing the missus and into the sitting room to check the alarm.
It was 4.10. Sadly the concoction of chemicals that had just allowed me such speed and silence didn’t subside and 20 minutes later I was still awake.
Rather than the BBC World Service fail-safe, I thought I’d put on the TV and lull myself back into sleep with one of the children’s cartoons.
Obviously the boy got wind of what was going on. I heard his footsteps and switched off the box. In he came and promptly planted himself on the sofa.
What a treat - a hot water bottle all for me. So I lay there waiting for him to go back to sleep before returning him to his bed.
I tried the TV trick again and he was back.
I gave up the struggle and took the headphones out of the TV and stuck them into the radio to listen to World Service perched on the edge of the sofa with my snoring hot water bottle.
After the updates on the bombs in Gaza and gas pipeline disputes between Russia and Ukraine, there was a piece on International Year of Astronomy. They had men from places with big telescopes and they were talking about going into schools and getting pupils to buy little telescopes that could be easily constructed so that a sense of awe and wonder would be fired about the universe.
That’s a good idea I thought as I drifted off into space.
Thursday, 8 January 2009
The Visit II
Another day and another visit to the doctor's surgery. This time it was the boy. He had to go and see the ear specialist. She was charged with checking whether all those ear infections of his youth had impaired his hearing.
The infections had certainly impaired my health. Countless nights over the past two years spent lying on cushions on the floor while he had to be cajoled to sleep with a combination of stories on the sofa or cartoons.
The doctor showed him an array of gadgets and stuck things in his ears. The bet bit was when she said he should only press a red button when he heard a sound.
He kept hearing sounds.
The thrill of the room catapulted him into a frenzy of excitement. And it's difficult to discern whether the doctor said he was fine just to get him out.
We paid and left and went for a coffee at a cafe which looked out onto the majesty of St Lazare church. The wobbly tables seemed to perpetuate his merriment.
I called it a day after that taking the train westwards towards the radio station as the boy and his mother headed back home.
I am relieved he is fine. I can now concentrate on the aching limbs from my yoga class.
The infections had certainly impaired my health. Countless nights over the past two years spent lying on cushions on the floor while he had to be cajoled to sleep with a combination of stories on the sofa or cartoons.
The doctor showed him an array of gadgets and stuck things in his ears. The bet bit was when she said he should only press a red button when he heard a sound.
He kept hearing sounds.
The thrill of the room catapulted him into a frenzy of excitement. And it's difficult to discern whether the doctor said he was fine just to get him out.
We paid and left and went for a coffee at a cafe which looked out onto the majesty of St Lazare church. The wobbly tables seemed to perpetuate his merriment.
I called it a day after that taking the train westwards towards the radio station as the boy and his mother headed back home.
I am relieved he is fine. I can now concentrate on the aching limbs from my yoga class.
Wednesday, 7 January 2009
The Cold
What I particularly liked this evening was the way it felt tropical as I prepared to get onto the bike.
There's a big electronic clock near the radio station which beams out the time and the temperature. As I arrived at 1209 it told me it was minus four.
As I left at 1851, it had rocketed to minus two.
A time for rejoicing then? No, not really as the cycle paths seemed to have been omitted from the gritting programme.
"Danger and I are old friends," said the Romulan captain in one episode of Star Trek.
And I negotiated the paths gingerly. There was a bit of sliding but nothing I couldn't handle at a snail's pace.
The big disappointment of the trip to London was that Zavvi - the benighted DVD and CD store - wasn't giving away the DVDs I wanted.
In fact it didn't even have the DVDs I craved. I thought here's a business that's called in the administrators, it will be a dream time to buy.
Forget that. I looked for the DVD sets of Star Trek - the original series - and found a few films featuring the old crusties from that era. Not even discounted.
I asked the cashier if they had the DVD sets hidden away somewhere. She looked at her computer and said nothing seemed to be around and said a few were due in but would be at an astronomical price.
She advised me to go to amazon which is why I guess Zavvi was in trouble because people were doing that kind of thing anyway
I did find the Star Wars DVDs at something of a discount though and bought the first three episodes.
Now I have 1-6, the complete collection.
And even though I found the first three tedious I shall sit through them again so that I can have the chronological thrill.
Just need to find the appropriate moment to binge on them all.
Perhaps a day recovering from a cold.
There's a big electronic clock near the radio station which beams out the time and the temperature. As I arrived at 1209 it told me it was minus four.
As I left at 1851, it had rocketed to minus two.
A time for rejoicing then? No, not really as the cycle paths seemed to have been omitted from the gritting programme.
"Danger and I are old friends," said the Romulan captain in one episode of Star Trek.
And I negotiated the paths gingerly. There was a bit of sliding but nothing I couldn't handle at a snail's pace.
The big disappointment of the trip to London was that Zavvi - the benighted DVD and CD store - wasn't giving away the DVDs I wanted.
In fact it didn't even have the DVDs I craved. I thought here's a business that's called in the administrators, it will be a dream time to buy.
Forget that. I looked for the DVD sets of Star Trek - the original series - and found a few films featuring the old crusties from that era. Not even discounted.
I asked the cashier if they had the DVD sets hidden away somewhere. She looked at her computer and said nothing seemed to be around and said a few were due in but would be at an astronomical price.
She advised me to go to amazon which is why I guess Zavvi was in trouble because people were doing that kind of thing anyway
I did find the Star Wars DVDs at something of a discount though and bought the first three episodes.
Now I have 1-6, the complete collection.
And even though I found the first three tedious I shall sit through them again so that I can have the chronological thrill.
Just need to find the appropriate moment to binge on them all.
Perhaps a day recovering from a cold.
Sunday, 4 January 2009
The Return
Well a sabbatical is over and the life between Paris and London is back on. Sunday queues at Gare du Nord and travails with my ontology.
There were masses at the Gare du Nord and I ended up behind the person who had passport issues. I’ve always found it odd that we have to go through French and British immigration in Paris while in London you only have French immigration to clear.
What do they care about in Paris that they don’t care about it in London or is it the other way round?
But the nature of travel is people. And Patience. Experience has taught me not to panic at times like this. They’re being scrupulous for a reason. The train will not leave without me.
And sure enough it didn’t. In fact it failed to depart on time and with problems in the Channel Tunnel dating back from last year’s fire – we were rescheduled to arrive at 11.47 rather than 11.19am.
Since the Guardian now sports shiny new offices at King’s Cross what difference does that make?
I’ll still be on time for my 12.30pm start. But I had hoped to get there really early to browse around the new high spec superstructure and recalibrate.
No such fortune.
As the train sped through northern France it does appear that we’ve been lucky in Paris to have escaped the brunt of the cold. The fields have a slaver of snow and lakes and ponds were partially frozen.
Because of the huge demand for train 9019 I ended up in one of the more expensive seats.
This is good for racking up the points to maintain my Carte Blanche status – and access to the lounges in London and Paris – but a lavish breakfast isn’t as good as a slap up supper which you obviously get on the evening trains.
But since that isn’t an option, you have to run with the reality.
And the truth is the Guardian has moved to within a 10 minute walk of St Pancras International.
O lucky man.
There were masses at the Gare du Nord and I ended up behind the person who had passport issues. I’ve always found it odd that we have to go through French and British immigration in Paris while in London you only have French immigration to clear.
What do they care about in Paris that they don’t care about it in London or is it the other way round?
But the nature of travel is people. And Patience. Experience has taught me not to panic at times like this. They’re being scrupulous for a reason. The train will not leave without me.
And sure enough it didn’t. In fact it failed to depart on time and with problems in the Channel Tunnel dating back from last year’s fire – we were rescheduled to arrive at 11.47 rather than 11.19am.
Since the Guardian now sports shiny new offices at King’s Cross what difference does that make?
I’ll still be on time for my 12.30pm start. But I had hoped to get there really early to browse around the new high spec superstructure and recalibrate.
No such fortune.
As the train sped through northern France it does appear that we’ve been lucky in Paris to have escaped the brunt of the cold. The fields have a slaver of snow and lakes and ponds were partially frozen.
Because of the huge demand for train 9019 I ended up in one of the more expensive seats.
This is good for racking up the points to maintain my Carte Blanche status – and access to the lounges in London and Paris – but a lavish breakfast isn’t as good as a slap up supper which you obviously get on the evening trains.
But since that isn’t an option, you have to run with the reality.
And the truth is the Guardian has moved to within a 10 minute walk of St Pancras International.
O lucky man.
Friday, 2 January 2009
The Cardigan
There is a shop near where we live which is deeply trendy. It's so cool it opens at 1pm and closes at 7pm. Last summer I bought a straw hat that my grandad approved of. He is 92 and said it reminded him of the ones worn back in Jamaica.
As the hat only cost a couple of euros I thought go ahead. I also bought a summer shirt. On subsequent visits there hasn't been anything quite so appealing but the other day I saw a cardigan. I wasn't wearing the right kind of shirt in terms of material so I didn't buy it.
Went back today - well after 1pm -with the right kind of shirt and it wasn't open but the keys were in the door on the other side and the lights were on.
I went off on a few errands, returned and still the same scenario. Lights on and no one home. I'm obviously not supposed to have the cardigan. So I'll spend the money on a better pair of tennis shoes.
The current ones have cracked up at the edges. In fact there's no grip on the left side of the left foot and that could be the reason for the crocked leg.
I doubt there's any link but at least it gives me food for thought as I trip along to the Adidas store on Tuesday to purchase a new pair.
Ones with übergrips.
As the hat only cost a couple of euros I thought go ahead. I also bought a summer shirt. On subsequent visits there hasn't been anything quite so appealing but the other day I saw a cardigan. I wasn't wearing the right kind of shirt in terms of material so I didn't buy it.
Went back today - well after 1pm -with the right kind of shirt and it wasn't open but the keys were in the door on the other side and the lights were on.
I went off on a few errands, returned and still the same scenario. Lights on and no one home. I'm obviously not supposed to have the cardigan. So I'll spend the money on a better pair of tennis shoes.
The current ones have cracked up at the edges. In fact there's no grip on the left side of the left foot and that could be the reason for the crocked leg.
I doubt there's any link but at least it gives me food for thought as I trip along to the Adidas store on Tuesday to purchase a new pair.
Ones with übergrips.
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