Punk Graphics

The combination of cheap Eurostar tickets and an overwhelming sense of impending doom prompted me to take another quick jolly to Brussels for a couple of exhibitions and a roam about the city before we all go to hell.

Among other things, this visit took me back to the Art & Design Atomium Museum – ADAM. The last time I was there it was for some D.I.S.C.O (an enormously enjoyable exhibition), this time it’s for ‘disco’s demolition’, punk.

Punk Graphics looks at the visual of the punk and post-punk music scenes, concentrating on the design elements and graphics of the ‘art on paper’ and ephemera. A lot of this is the stuff that isn’t necessarily meant to survive – posters, flyers, tickets, fanzines – but which produced the visual language for the major sub-cultures of the period (in the UK and the US anyway).

Many of the pieces on display were created for a one-off occasion; some are pretty off the cuff and, possibly, with no thought to their continued existence even tomorrow, let alone forty years later.

 

The exhibits are drawn predominantly from the personal collection of Andrew Krivine, and display the key design techniques used by UK ad US producers for this type of material;

Cut ‘n’ paste collage

The ‘appropriated’ image

The comic book look

DIY

Type-face

Many of the items in the exhibition cannot be assigned to a specific designer; ‘Designer unknown’ is all we get. In some cases this was because the item; poster or record sleeve, was designed by a staffer at the record company or music venue. In other cases it’s probably because the item, mostly fanzines in this case, was created by a fan and sold, informally, at the gigs and clubs.

You’ll notice that many of the more ‘informal’ items involve black print on white or coloured paper. The restricted use of coloured ink reduced the cost of production and, let’s be honest, some, at least, of the pieces may have been printed on the sly using the printer or photocopier at work. This was, undoubtedly the case for a lot of later, indie, flyers and fanzines.

We also see the webs of influence, comics and the horror genre influencing the punk aesthetic, which in turn influenced fashion and wider popular culture.

There’s a small selection of punk, and punk-influenced clothing on display.

The Katharine Hamnett, ‘Ban Pollution’ t-shirt highlights punk’s involvement in the political campaigns of the day. On display are some examples of left-wing punk’s push-back against the 1970s populism of the extreme far right. At a time when the National Front marched openly through the streets and promoted hostility towards anyone, or anything, perceived as ‘different’, many punks joined forces with other left-wing and anti-fascist groups to work and fight against them.

  

Andrew Krivine’s collection also seems to include a flip load of badges. This was just one smallish wall but scouring the badges for best designs took up, probably, more time than it should have.

Considering the, sometimes, chaotic appearance of the designs and the, sometimes, chaotic nature of the scene, the exhibition is very clean-lined. This contrast can make it a little difficult to really get into the punk mindset. The pieces on display do seem rather removed from their original context. I suppose that this is inevitable when the physical remains of a scene that evolved so rapidly and organically are selected for display in a wholly different, far more tidy and controlled, environment.

Still, caveats aside, I enjoyed the exhibition. I like to see ephemera and know myself the surprise, and joy, of finding some random flyer, photo or ticket for a gig that happened ages ago, and the memories that it brings back (if I can even remember it. I used to drink quite a lot of cider).

The exhibition ‘Punk Graphics’ is on at Art & Design Atomium Museum (the Brussels Design Museum) until 26th April 2020. http://adamuseum.be/en/punk-graphics/

 

Farewell Dear Friend

October. The spookiest month. The month when the distance between the living and the dead is only a hair’s breadth. The month when spirits walk and we can speak once again with the departed.

It’s also the London Month of the Dead.

At Brompton Cemetery, in the chapel, a range of speakers have been exploring facets of our relationships with death and how these are expressed now and, especially, how they were in the past. One of the talks I’ve been to, ‘Walkies in the Paradise Garden‘ was about pet cemeteries and how we mourn and memorialize the animals with whom we spend our lives. Several years ago I visited the Cimetière des Chiens et Autres Animaux Domestique, the pet cemetery of Paris. I began writing a blog post about it but the ‘feels’ got the better of me and I had to abandon it. Prompted by this talk, I decided to make a second attempt but this time I’ve had to swerve feelings and just stick to facts and photos.

Here goes…

A recent study has revealed that many humans actually prefer their pets to their partners*.  I can’t say that I’m surprised by this. I mean, let’s face it, humans are a bit rubbish whereas pets are awesome. Don’t get me wrong; humans do have their uses. We have thumbs, we have contactless payment cards with which we can buy cat food, and some of us can play the drums. We don’t look like this though

Unfortunately, most animals don’t live as long as humans, meaning that with pet ownership comes the acceptance that bereavement is inevitable. We bury our loved-one in the garden and sob quietly to ourselves. However, for Parisians, who are always a bit ‘extra’, this simply will not do.

In a north-western suburb of Paris is one of the world’s oldest purpose-built pet cemeteries, the Cimetière des Chiens et Autres Animaux Domestique (originally just Cimetière des Chiens). It opened in 1899 and was designed to have all the trappings, facilities and grandeur of a reasonably smart human cemetery. Before the opening of the cemetery the bodies of deceased domestic animals, even beloved pets, were treated as refuse and disposed of accordingly, but a new law passed in Paris forbade such casual disposal of animal corpses, stipulating that they must be properly buried, away from dwellings. For smart, and well-off, Parisians, the foundation of the cemetery by lawyer, Georges Harmois, and feminist journalist, Marguerite Durand, met the need for suitable facilities.

From the exterior, it’s nearly impossible to tell the difference between this and a human cemetery. It’s really only when you enter the cemetery that the zoological nature of the memorials becomes apparent. The cemetery was originally called the Cemetery of Dogs, as lap-dogs were favourite pets of the well-off and so were the most common animals buried there.

The saying goes that ‘you can’t take it with you’. This good Boi, Arry, begs to differ.

Some of the dogs, especially, were service animals and/or mascots. Some served during, or just after, the Great War or were the working companions of service men and women.

The cemetery also includes the prominent memorial to Barry, a Saint Bernard dog who worked as a mountain rescue dog in Switzerland and Italy before the Great War, and who was responsible for saving the lives of 40 people trapped in snow in the mountains. When he had rescued the 41st person, Barry was overcome and died, but his fame lives on. Barry isn’t buried here though. His remains are still in Switzerland.

But many other animal-types are represented. Cats feature heavily.

Including the pet lion of Mme Durand herself.

There are also rabbits and other small rodents, birds, turtles and fish

There is even a monkey and a gazelle and a fennel fox!

Perhaps surprisingly, there are also a couple of horses. On the day of my visit, part of the cemetery was blocked off as a new horse grave was being dug. Horse graves are big.

Most of the memorials echo those seen in human cemeteries; headstones, grave-surrounds, plaques and mausolea. But these mausolea differ from their human counterparts in that they represent kennels and cat-baskets.

This one even holds its cats’ favourite cushion and, in true cat style, Plume is laid to rest, sleeping for all eternity on the washing.

I visited on a dull rainy day and spent most of the time there blubbing at the thought of long-lost friends. I really know how to have fun, huh?

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 * http://www.yorkshirepost.co.uk/news/majority-of-pet-owners-prefer-animal-company-to-time-with-their-partners-1-7855205 

Cimetiere des Chiens https://decouvrir.asnieres-sur-seine.fr/patrimoine-naturel/le-cimetiere-des-chiens/ 

The view from above

I was having a little look at some of my travel photos recently, ones that I haven’t posted online before and I realized that I am strangely fascinated with what I can see out of the plane window. This is slightly weird because, truth be told, flying actually freaks me out a bit, but I’ve found that focusing on the view of sites and landscapes on the ground, distracts my mind, stopping me thinking about crashing down to my death in a ball of red-hot flames.

Anyway, here are a few views from the cheap (economy) seats.

Syria/Lebanon

Flying over Lebanon, out of Damascus airport, I loved the ripples and curves made by the ranges of hills and mountains in the Bekaa Valley.

Algeria

In Algeria, flying is pretty well a necessity. The country is enormous and the country’s history has left it with a legacy of, frankly, unsafe areas. There are still a few places where kidnapping is a very real possibility, making driving dangerous.

The distance from the Ghardaia region back up to Algiers is over 600km so travelling by road is a bit of a schlep. The flight is an hour and the views are spectacular. The landscape starts as golden desert, peppered with towns north of Ghardaia.

As you get further north, the landscape turns to lush green with lakes and reservoirs.

Flight from Ghardaia to Algiers, Barrage Bouroumi, Mahaizia

Libya

Flying into Tripoli, on the coastal plain were miles of neatly planted olive groves.

The olive trees look very sparsely planted but this is the only way get a good yield of fruit, as the tree roots need space around then.

Iceland

Flying out of Keflavik Airport, Iceland, I flew directly over one of the places where I’d spent much of my time on my first visit.

This is Ásbrú, a former NATO base where the festival ‘ATP Iceland’ was held in 2015. It’s all brightly coloured, crinkly-tin shed, like many of the buildings in Iceland. Simple, functional and not especially decorative.I enjoyed the festival, and I enjoyed Iceland too.

And here’s, not the Blue Lagoon spa, but a similar hot water pool.

The heated water is the outflow from the Reykjanes Power Plant nearby.

France

Flying down to Marseille, I spotted a very exciting looking quarry.

Google maps calls this the Perasso Frederic Paul quarry but I think it’s actually called the Perasso quarry of Saint-Tronc. The Perasso company quarries gravel, concrete and sand from here. http://www.perasso.fr/societe-perasso-marseille/

Germany

Flying into Frankfurt means flying over the extensive forests that surround it. I was struck by the appearance of the motorways immediately adjacent to the airport.

This is where the Bundesautobahn 5 meets Bundesstraße 43 and the Bundesautobahn 3. Not quite Spaghetti Junction, but a striking intersection nonetheless.

London

Living, as I do, in Olde London Towne, I generally fly in and out of London airports, mainly Stansted (because it’s the right side of town for me), Heathrow (because it’s on the tube) and City, (because it’s actually IN London, as opposed to being somewhere in a field in a neighbouring county).

This means that sometimes I get to fly up the Thames. This is absolutely my favourite, even though the approach to City is slightly terrifying. The first time that I was actually aware of this, and actually thought about it properly, was when I was flying back from Damascus. I happened to glance out of the window and thought, “that’s Southend Pier!”. And it was.

Since then, every chance I get, I try to spot cool ‘something-on-Thames’ things.

Here is one of the wind farms in the Thames Estuary

and nearby, the Maunsell Forts at Shivering Sands.

This is not the greatest photo because we were in a raging storm at the time, but this is a cluster of six, originally seven, ‘army’ style WW2 anti-aircraft gun emplacements, situated in the Thames Estuary. The seven individual platforms were originally connected by walkways and were arranged as a cluster of six, housing guns and the seventh housing the searchlight.

I’ve been fortunate enough to have been able to get a bit closer to the forts as The Waverley does a couple of trips each autumn.

Further into town, we fly over some very familiar sights. The Thames Barrier

City Airport

Canary Wharf, the Isle of Dogs, Greenwich and the O2

The London Eye…

…and before I know it, I’m home. 😀

The ancient dead speak

Last weekend, me and my fellow explorer Craig, visited an exhibition that we’ve been looking forward to for a while. At the Museum of London Docklands, ‘Roman Dead‘.

This exhibition tells the stories of some of the people of Roman London, as seen through the evidence of their mortal remains, and of the funerary practices and methods of commemoration used by Roman Londoners. Literary evidence tells us that the ancient burial grounds of Londinium began to be discovered at least as early as the 1570s as John Stowe writes, in his A Survey of London in 1598, that as the ground around Spitalfields was being broken up for clay, the workers discovered cinerary urns (pots used to hold the ashes of people who were cremated), the cremated  bones and other remains of earlier Londoners.

This burial group, dating to 60-200CE, was found at Bishopsgate. The large glass jar would have held the cremated remains (in the tray in front), with a samian cup used as a lid.

The smaller glass jars may have been used to hold oils and perfumes used in the funerary rites or offerings to the gods.

I was interested to see the map of known burial grounds around Londinium (in red), particularly the two on the Southwark islands.

The burial grounds were situated just outside the city limits to avoid the pollution of the living by the dead and archaeologists have unearthed evidence of a wide range of funerary practices carried out by the people of London. The exhibitions includes evidence of cremations and inhumations (burials), a range of grave goods, buried with the deceased, and evidence of some more unusual practices. For example, the skeletal remains of a woman whose skull was removed, after death and possibly much later, after the body had decomposed, and placed on top of her pelvis.

As it is today, so it was in Roman London. We see people from all over the Roman world; from Britain and all parts of mainland Europe, the Middle-East and North Africa, and they all came to, or travelled through Londinium. Some of them died here. Some of these different funerary practices may have been influenced by people’s different areas of origin, by changing tastes and even by changing religions, but some perhaps also by the desire to ‘do what Granddad would have wanted’, possibly harking back to older tribal or cultural traditions not current in Roman Britain but which, in the face of death, felt to surviving family members or friends like the right thing to do.

The objects in the exhibition work around the people in the exhibition. Well, the remains of the people anyway. As well as cremated remains, on display are the skeletal remains of 28 individuals. With funerary collections, I particularly like to see the whole assemblege, or as much as possible of it, displayed together, if possible reassembled as it was in the ground. I think that seeing all of the objects together with the remains can tell us something about the people themselves, but also about their loved ones, their friends, the people who arranged and carried out the funeral rites. We can’t see the remains exactly as those people saw them at the point of burial, but it’s the closest that we can get.

So here are a few of the grave goods found:

The centrepiece of exhibition is this well preserved stone sarcophagus found last year near Harper Road in Southwark.

Stone sarcophagi are rare in London, this is only the third one found, so it’s a big deal. Most people buried in Roman London would have been buried in wooden caskets or possibly just laid in the ground wrapped in a shroud, so the lady interred here, and her family, must have been quite wealthy to be able to afford such a burial. This is the first time that the sarcophagus has been shown and I was struck by how big it is. It’s not overly wide, but it did look really long.

In the accompanying film archaeologists, conservation experts and one of the curators talk us through the discovery, recovery, investigation and conservation of the sarcophagus. When it was discovered, the archaeologists could see that it was badly cracked so it wasn’t excavated onsite. Instead a wooden frame was constructed around it, holding it firmly together and allowing it to be lifted out of the ground by crane, still filled with earth that had accumulated in it, and taken to the lab to be excavated in more controlled conditions. The breaks int he stone are very visible, even after conservation.

In the lab the remains of the occupant and a few fragments of the grave goods were found, already disturbed by grave robbers. There’s no way to know all of the objects that the lady was buried with, but the few pieces that remain include an engraved intaglio, probably from a finger-ring, and a tiny fragment of gold, possibly the remains of an earring.

The object that I think amazed me the most was this:

It may not look like much at first, just a rough plank of wood. And so it is, but it has been reused as the base of a wooden coffin. Close inspection reveals some marks left on the wood. The imprints left by the body.

The marks left by the knees.

And by the ribs.

This, for me, was the object that really made me go “Wow!”. The dead really do leave a lasting impression.

The Roman Dead exhibition is at Museum of London Docklands until 28th October 2018 and it’s free to visit. Yes! Free!

 

 

Blast into the future

Last weekend saw three days of loud. Three days of bands playing loud. I like bands playing loud so, obviously, I was there.

My travelling companions on this trip were Ellen, Rob and Simon, who had descended on The Smoke for the occasion, and also Jeremy on the Saturday. Over the course of the weekend I saw a whole range of bands but it was impossible to see everyone so I’m just going to focus on a few of my favourites who, for me, really stood out (n.b. other favourites are available but these were mine).

I started the weekend wishing that I’d arrived just a little earlier, as I only caught the last song from Flowers must Die and it sounded great; funky and bouncy is a good way to get things started. They were swiftly followed by Julie’s Haircut who played a cracking set with a little bit of jazzy sax and a lot of krauty-rock.

I spent all day Saturday at an archaeology conference (which was very very good BTW. See #lamas18 for some tweetage) and then sprinted over to The Garage straight afterwards to wreck my hearing. Unfortunately I’d missed Temple Ov BBV and Mamuthones and, just to make it worse, my friends were all raving about them. 😦

Gnoomes, from Russia, reminded me of 1990. They’re that shoegazey moment before it went all fey and a bit too shimmery-dreampop. There was something about them that reminded me of The Pale Saints, although they don’t actually sound like The Pale Saints. They’re definitely the pop end of the weekend and I liked them. I liked them enough to go and see them again a couple of days later.

I’ve seen Housewives once before … maybe I should qualify that statement as they played in pitch blackness so I couldn’t actually see them, but I heard them all right. From that first hearing my general impression of them was that they were a band that plays on the intensity of the experience. Mainly confusion. This time they played in the light, all dressed in white with bold colourblock back projections.

Tricky time signatures were a strong feature of the set, so not the most obviously poppy sing-a-long but nevertheless pretty dancey but also intriguing. The thing I think I found the most disconcerting on this viewing, was that the bass player looked, and danced, like he was in Haircut 100.

I like Hey Colossus but they’re a band that I don’t seem to see very often. I like how heavy but funky they are and they do have some cracking tunes. Seriously, ‘March of the Headaches’ is such fun 😀 . They didn’t play it on this outing but they did play a seriously good set. Very intense, heavy and relentless but they’re also a band that you can really dance to. I really like ‘Back in the Room’ which is on the newest album Guillotine – “3,2,1 you’re back in the rooooom”. More of this please.

Unfortunately Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs had had to cancel due to a family medical emergency. We all hope everything is OK and look forward to seeing them again in the future (they’re playing at Raw Power. Go to that!).

A lovely chilled out Sunday afternoon? Don’t be silly.

I made sure that I got down to The Garage fairly early to catch the great bands playing in the afternoon, starting with Bonnacons of Doom. Honestly, the afternoon couldn’t have had a better start.

A bit of theatre with shadowy figures dressed in robes and reflective disk masks, some great music and a fantastic front-woman (Kate?), throwing all manner of shapes and blending her vocals in with the other instruments, mostly sounds rather than words. And a gong!

I’d really been wanting to see Kuro, as I’ve managed to miss them a couple of times, and I certainly wasn’t disappointed. In fact I’d say that they were way more than I’d expected. I’m not exactly sure what I’d expected but this was more. This is classical music for doomheads. Kuro team a deep electric bass (Gareth) with violin tracery, screams, squalls and snippets of melody (Agathe), building a big, dense soundscape / soundtrack which draws us all into its reality. It sounds like either the creation or the destruction of worlds. Take your pick.

We’re also treated to the spectacle of Gareth on hurdy-gurdy! It’s not often you see someone whip out a hurdy-gurdy at a gig. I mean, it does happen (c.f. France) but not that often so it brings a touch of “ooh, look at that” to the proceedings. Great stuff.

Anthroprophh feature Paul Allen out of The Heads (seriously, why the hell weren’t The Heads playing!!!?), Gareth out of Kuro back again, and wonder-drummer Jesse Webb.

Paul Allen’s rock guitar wig-outs and wailing vocals are held firmly in place by the absolutely monstrous rhythm section. This is probably the best rhythm section this side of anywhere. The last time I saw Anthroprophh, Paul ended up with his trousers half way down his legs. I don’t know how that happened but I was interested in seeing if this was a regular occurrence, or just a one-off special. Turns out it was a one-off special. Clothes stayed firmly on, which meant no undue distractions from the absolute onslaught of choons 😀.

Closing out the weekend was Gnod. Rob’s new favourite T-shirt band.

Gnod don’t do things by half, they do things by double.  Twin basses bring an extra helping of heavy to go with the loud.

They’re great for fans of repetition (me) that builds and builds to a veritable avalanche (also me). I felt compelled to go and find my own little space so that I could just dance on my own. Just me and a bloody big racket. The final song of the set, a ~20 minute long juggernaut left everyone a little dazed but happy :D.

A word about the weekend’s visuals. That word is stonking. Designed by John O’Carroll from Rocket and Sam Wiehl of Liverpool Psych Fest fame, each band’s sound and scene was expressed by their own background visuals and lighting and that really added to the overall feeling of this being a special event. Not run-of-the-mill.

This blog is generally quite lightweight and easy going so I don’t want to suddenly get all ‘gender politics heavy’ on you but I will say that it was nice to see such strong representation from the female contingent of the ‘Loud’n’Heavy’ community. These types of events can, and in the past certainly did, end up being total sausage fests but Rocket Recordings is definitely not pushing the women aside. I’m not talking about absolute gender parity here, we go where the music takes us, but I can’t help noting how good it is so see a few more ‘girls to the front’. Nice one Rocket.

And I can’t finish this post without mentioning the merch stall. Merch stall? Merch room actually. With an ever-changing selection of goodies, this proved fatal to any sense of fiscal restraint. I’m happy with my purchases but I’m not buying anything else this month!*

Thanks to everyone at Rocket Recordings, all the bands and everyone else who chipped in a little or a lot to make this an amazing weekend. We all limped home a little bit broken but happy.

.

*Except that Rocket has just sent out an email notification of a new release by Gnod. Damn you Rocket *shakes fist*.

The fat of the land

No, this post isn’t about the Prodigy, it’s about muck.

In 2017 a monstrous fiend was discovered lurking in the sewers beneath the streets of Whitechapel. The ghost of Jack the Ripper? No. The FATBERG *screams*

Sewers are good, and necessary, and help to reduce outbreaks of cholera in heavily populated areas like London. Sewers are also a bit smelly and dirty and full of things we never wanted to see again.

The term ‘fatberg’ was first used by London sewer workers to describe the accumulations of oil and grease and ‘stuff’ that build up in sewers, and which have to be cleared out regularly  in order to keep the channels flowing. It’s a real word now because it entered the Oxford English Dictionary in 2015 but in September 2017, the mother of all fatbergs was found in the Whitechapel sewer.

It was big. Weighing ~130 tonnes and stretching along the sewer for over 250 metres, so it had to go. The difficulty was its sheer mass and solidity. The usual method of removal is to blast it with jets of water to break it up, and then suck it out through pipes into tankers for disposal. Unfortunately, the Whitechapel Fatberg was, in places, so rock solid that blasting it with jets of water couldn’t break it up, so the only alternative was for the sewer workers to hack it to pieces with  picks and hand-shovels. Over the course of nine weeks, eight waste engineers, working nine hours a day rid the sewer of the fatberg.

The workers had to wear protective clothing and masks in order to avoid being poisoned by the toxic waste or infected with diseases, which can be breathed in or even absorbed into your system through your skin.

Even though they were only handling a small sample, the conservators at the Museum were also kitted out with similar protective gear. During the process of preservation mould grew on the samples and flies hatched out of them. The samples were x-rayed to see what was inside (and to check for hazards like sharps), then they were dried out, reducing the risk of contamination, and enclosed in three boxes, one inside another inside another. They are now displayed in sealed units.  That Fatberg bites.

And here it is.

I was initially (madly) expecting the chunks to be huge, sofa-sized pieces but, having seen what was involved in preserving them and the hazards they posed, I can see why that could never be.

So why on earth has such a piece of grimness ended up on display in a museum?

Well, the Whitechapel Fatberg’s ‘celebrity’ presented the Museum of London, and the ‘Curator of Fatberg!’, Vyki Sparkes,  with an opportunity to tell the story of something that is common and everyday in our city, as in all cities, waste. The enormous volume of waste generated by a big city is a constant problem that has to be monitored and managed but which we don’t all necessarily consider very often. Putting a piece of it in the museum that tells the story of London helps us to consider it. On display, we’re only seeing a tiny piece of a huge problem but it’s a way to have the conversation about how we can all help to reduce that problem, just a little bit.

We can all think about what we’re flushing down the loo. Flushable wet wipes may be marketed as easy to dispose of, but they don’t biodegrade so flushing them is just shifting the problem to somewhere else. The Fatberg, as it’s name suggests, is made up of a base of fat; oil, cooking fat and fats found in product such as hair conditioner. Some of this, at least, doesn’t have to end up down the drain. We can all make decisions about how we dispose of our waste and also make decisions about what we purchase and how that can help to reduce waste a bit.

You can read about the rationale and process for bringing the Fatberg to the museum on the museum’s own blog.

The good news is that the fat content of the fatberg is actually recyclable. It can be recycled and reused as biodiesel fuel, powering the buses. Other elements have been recycled to make fertilizer.

The Fatberg has just gone on display at The Museum of London and will be there to visit, for free, until the 1st July as part of the ‘City Now City Future’ season.

 

p.s. Is that a Double-Decker wrapper sticking out of the Fatberg?

 

2017 and all that

Some of you, if you are Facebookies, may have been inundated with ‘Year in Review’ videos which are, frankly, rubbish. Facebook is crap at picking the images that tell the story of your year and always end up with old, reposted pictures, your ex who just dumped you or that one from where you saw an old mattress dumped in the street. The only way to do it is to chose your own images and tell it your own way. So here’s mine.

Around the world

In 2017 I’ve mostly been interested in Northern Europe. I don’t know why, but that’s just the way it was. So, here’s a whistlestop tour through my whistlestop tours.

Boom!! Cologne

Bang!! Paris

Wowee!! Rome, with The Couple Formerly Known As Trowelsworthy (TCFKAT).

Kablammo!! Orvieto

  

Crash!! Mainz

 

Kapow!! Bad Durkheim

Badabing!! Frankfurt

Bazinga!! Bavay

Wow!! Paris (again). Thanks for the cheapo tickets Eurostar.

Bang!! Senlis

Crash!! Leiden

 

Whoopee!! Amsterdam

Other places are available.

Tourists at home

It’s fantastic to visit far, or not so far away places, but home is best and being a tourist in your own home is great fun. On many of my touristic days out, Craig has been my travelling companion but I started the year, in traditional style, at the Twelfth Night celebrations on Bankside.

Then nose-hunting with Craig

And I also visited the London Lumiere with Pete and Dayna.

Me and Craig went to Freemason’s Hall.

And to the ‘Glad to be Gay: the struggle for legal equality’ exhibition at LSE. This celebrated 50 year since the decriminalization of homosexuality in Britain.

The City of London Police Museum.

 

We went to Banqueting House for ‘Long Live Queen James’, an evening exploring LGBT stories from the court of King James I/VI.

And we had a poke around the restoration works at Ally Pally.

 

The Supreme Court, with Jeremy

I went to Highgate Cemetery with Sacha and Stuart.

And with Craig and Jeremy to the London Transport Museum.

(“Exchange stations shewn thus”)

Plus loads more. Seriously, London is very cool. Go and look at it.

Moosic, moosic, moosic

There have been some stonking gigs this year. This isn’t all of them, but it is some of them. How many can you name?*

 

Random Romans

There are always more Romans about, so I went to have a look for some. I popped up for a quick visit to Newcastle and Carlisle to see some of the Hadrian’s Cavalry exhibitions.

 

I went to Hull! I’ve never been to Hull before but they have a fantastic Roman mosaic collection so I decided to make the effort and go and have a look. Well worth it.

I managed a couple of short trips up to Glasgow and Edinburgh, taking in Bothwellhaugh Roman bathhouse in Strathclyde Country Park with Ellen and Simon,

 

the bathouse and Antonine Wall remains at Bearsden,

and finally made it to Eagle Rock at Cramond.

 

Back in town, the eagerly awaited opening of the London Mithraeum didn’t disappoint.

When I was in Germany, I popped down to Speyer to see the Roman Collection at  Das Historische Museum der Pfalz (The Historical Museum of the Palatinate).

What else? What else? Volunteering on a schools’ project at the Museum of London’s Archaeological Archive (Me! Working with children!!), and I spent half the year working at Tower Bridge (actual paid employment!). This is surely enough to pack into 12 short months.

So that’s 2017 from me, and from my boys, Archie and Bertie. I hope you’ve had a good year and roll on 2018.

 

Oh, and here’s that one from where I saw an old mattress dumped in the street.