Olympic Fever

I spent most of last week back in Canada for my best friend’s wedding (strangely not at all like the movie).  Whilst (enjoy that Jaime!) back in Toronto I watched quite a bit of the olympics.  Now back in the UK I realise how good Olympic coverage is in Canada.  In Toronto I can watch the Canadian coverage, the French-Canadian coverage and American coverage. 

Here?  I have minimal British coverage.  No joke, we have 37 channels and only ONE has the Olympics, BBC1.  And it’s mostly talk show format in which several dolled up ‘journalists’ lounge around a couch discussing results, not showing results.  Come on UK, you’re 3rd in the medal standing surely you can do better to promote your athletes. 

The best part?  at 8pm coverage ends because Eastenders is on!!

I’ll Be a Little Late Coming in Today …

I arrived at the Cambridge Station bike lot this morning to find a happy surprise: the person next to me had locked her (yes, her: it was a girly bike) bike to mine. Interesting. I had to take apart my brake line by hand to wrestle it free. That made me a little late for work!
Remind me to buy a tool kit to keep in my cycling bag.

Google me this

So we use WordPress to publish this precious dribble, and today i discovered a new feature (it’s probably several years old, but I just noticed it).  If someone is Googling and ends up clicking on our blog, WordPress statistics keeps track of what Google search term was used to make them find our blog and actually click on us.

The results are outstanding.  Here are two favourites, and I promise these are truly not made up:

bobo the german puppet from beer fest

British Leafy Salads Conference d. 19. november 2008

for the leafy salad one, we’re number one!!

weekend observations

Saturday I had lunch with a friend in a Maida Vale, a new (to me) neighbourhood.  It’s only within a few blocks of run down Edgeware Road, so it’s a surprising little pocket of niceness.  A bit of walk later I was in Nottinghill at my old stand by Kitchen and Pantry.  I haven’t been in a while but that day it was like romper room exploded in there.  I’m sorry K&P, I think we might need to break up.  I can’t enjoy my travel mag with bumper to bumper prams of screaming babies.

Since the weather is now amazing, I take a much much longer walk and later end up in Earls Court.  It’s been a few hours of walking, so i grabbed a bus down to Putney - sorry south londoners, this is just so far! I don’t care if you’re still tecnically zone 2, it’s bloody suburbua as far as I’m concerned. Nice river views though.  I note Saturday seems to be a day of minor judgements and several mental appologies.

Sunday, my London observation for the day is that the city does in fact do brunch.  I spent the first year here missing brunch and wondering how the city could exist without it.  Turns out it is in fact here, in full force.  We met our favourite Kiwis for brunch in Soho.  As we leave I notice that as the gay capital of London, Soho draws a very pretty crowd of boys brunching together.

ps. canadians, hope you’re enjoying Civic Holiday weekend, it’s  chilled down again here.

Shakesphere’s globe

Dan and Rachel are back in town again. They’re in London for a quick pit stop before there 4 week north Africa holiday. Last night we had our cousin Pawel and his girlfriend over for.a bbq dinner. Today, they did a few touristy things before meeting us at shakesphere’s globe. Even though it usually ranks high on the tourist to do list, this was a first for all of us. The weather couldn’t be more perfect for an open air theatre, warm, clear skies. We saw Timor of Athens, one of shakesphere’s obscure (and suprisingly graphic) plays, but it was a good one.
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Better know-a neighbourhood: Mayfair … continued…

The weather has turned.  It was just 1 day after Lindsay headed back to Canada that London burst into summer.  The sun is out, the weather is warm and on any given day of the week at almost any given time there are people out drinking on the patio (patio = sidewalk here).  Maybe my memory is fuzzy, but I don’t recall this many people in Toronto outside with beer in hand on say, a Monday.  But here, people drink like there’s no tomorrow, which truthfully, based on weather patterns is pretty accurate.  It may be 27 and blue skies today, but tomorrow it could just as well be pissing rain and 12.

I’ve continued my lunch tim exploration of Mayfair.  Last week I went to see the Drawing Blank Exhibit by Bob Dylan:

Interesting work, reminiscent of Degas.  I think he should stick with singing.
Later that I week I went to Sotheby’s to a proper auction.  There, paddle in hand, I sat and watched people with seemingly nothing else to do with 5000 pounds on a Wednesday at 2pm then bid on Rare and Vintage Wines.  It was exciting for the first 10 minutes.  The auctioneer sputtered out bids at gunfire pace, 4 people sat in a row perpendicular to me taking orders from telephones, and my fellow attendees, clutching their pens, carefully took notes of each lots final price.  After that it got a bit monotonous.  The excitment of holding a bidding paddle quickly faded so instead I choose to study the people around me and guess what their lives were like that warranted purchasing 36 bottles of 1991 red wine from chateux somewhere-snooty.   Surely a few of these people were in the restaurant business.  Otherwise, just how many dinner parties can you have before you get the reputation of serving that SAME wine.  Maybe they were shop owners? 

Then the lots of champagne came around, and my ears perked up.  Fresh from my trip to Reims I studied what was on offer.  16 bottles of a 1986 vintage.  Not bad.  3 magnums from 2001.  Magnum!  I snickered to myself.  I’ll never forget magnum now.

Did I bid?  no.  As tempting as it is to join in the fun and raise my paddle too, at 2,400 pounds I can’t really afford my bluff to be called!

A Mockery of our National Anthem

No, not “Oh, Canada!”, “Hockey Night in Canada.”

As you may have heard, Canada’s most important theme song went through a bit of a controversy recently. After CBC refused to pay the $2 million requested by the royalty owner, CBC/TSN picked up the “perpetual royalties” to save the song. To any Canadian reading you understand that this was really big news in Canada: after many decades Hockey Night in Canada on CBC is going to to have to get a new theme song!!!

Being the resourceful people they are, CBC decided to run a contest for the new “Hockey Night” theme song. Great idea, until the part where they decided that entries could be submitted on the Internet and voted upon by people online.

Which bring us to SomethingAwful.com - the people who brought you “All Your Base Is Belong To Us,” among other Internet memes. Nothing good can come of this.

Enter “Hockey Scores,” the brilliant theme created by one of the SomethingAwful message board members. A fine mix of animal sounds an crying babies described as “A beautiful theme encompassing the heart of hockey.” Go ahead, listen to “Hockey Scores” here. Here’s the original thread about it at SomethingAwful.

So, of course, the  monkeys over at SomethingAwful go over to the CBC anthem site and vote it up, and it’s currently the highest rated entry with almost 100,000 views.

It was temporarily removed from CBC’s site (I guess somebody though it was a joke? no way), but was put back after vicious oposition from Internet netizens and protest videos on YouTube.

But it gets better: last week CBC television ran a news piece about the anthem contest and featured the “Hockey Scores” composer:

I don’t know how he managed to keep a straight face through this interview. “If you think this is one big joke, you’re wrong.” Pure comedy gold.

Thankfully CBC were smart enought to state in advance the anthem content is not a popularity contest: their judges will choose the winning theme.

Reims & the Champagne District

After a solid day off with Lindsay last week, exploring the girlier bits of London (and trying to not let the crap weather get us down) Saturday rolled around and we were off to Reims, France.  2 hour on the Eurostar, a quick change of stations in Paris, a 45 minute express TGV train later we’re in Reims, the capital of the champagne district.

It’s a typical cute french town, cobble stone streets, obligatory cathedral (check, check), but due to the mass tourism of the champagne houses the town is over stocked with cafes and restaurants happy to let you indulge in art of french leisurely relaxation.  We spent over an hour on a cafe patio munching on leafy salads and sipping a champagne cocktail, followed by a few hours in another cafe in the sun sipping cafe cremes chatting, reading the paper (napping if you’re jet lagged!) and people watching.  The best thing the french do is let you sit with your one drink for hours, without trying to get you to buy anything more.  Some people might call this bad service, i call it decadent.

Eventually we peeled ourselves off the patio chairs and wandered the town stopping to window shop and scouting the champagne houses for one to visit the following day.  Time for a cafe break, we are in France after all.

For dinner we went to a local bistro recommended by a coworker that was truly excellent.  Two big things for me, 1: I got to try escargot for the first time and 2: I learned what Magnum means in the context of ordering a bottle of champagne.  To be fair, this was new to Lindsay too.  No it doesn’t mean premium, and no it’s not a brand of champagne.  In fact it’s a size.  2 bottles worth, 1500 litres worth to be exact.  It’s like the french word for “mega”.  We got quite the look from the waiter (and let’s be honest almost every patron in the restaurant).  I guess they don’t encounter 2 champagne rookies like us everyday!

3 hours later, the bottle empty, we showed them!

Sunday.  Surprisingly no hangover!  I think I have a new love for champagne.  breakfast on the cafe we note that the main strip is quite sleepy.

Oh ya, France.  France loves to close stuff on Sundays.  Thankfully they keep the champagne houses open, so it was off to the Mumm house.

The tour was an hour, quite detailed and very educational.  And yes, within the first 5 minutes of the tour the sizes of the bottles are taught.  Lindsay and I exchange a glance and a quiet giggle as we see the magnum bottle in a line up vs. the other bottles.

Later that evening it’s the TGV express back to Paris and the Eurostar back to London.  And as we pulled into London, its one of those rare moments that i get to truly appreciate living in Kings Cross.  10 minutes later, we’re home.

Huzzah to visitors!

Out for sushi in Mayfair!
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Pitchers of Canadian

Putting the Canadian back in me continues…. We’re in Kitchener/Waterloo at a dive bar drinking cheap pitchers of molson Canadian beer. And we’re celebrating the end of bachelorhood of Craig, one of the last ones of jasons friends to get married. Tomorrow he’ll be a married old man. But that’s tomorrow. Tonight, it’s a sing along to American pie on the juke box and nostalgia.
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To Brussels and back

The semi-stress free week continues. Wed and Thursday were spent in Brussels at a corporate team building/bonding thing. It was typical work enforced fun: power point presentations, conference room food, drinks with coworkers and more precious power point.

The company is quite international, and lately i’ve started to really enjoy being the only Canadian. I’ve been with this Aussie company for 5 months now and being surrounded by Australians, Kiwis, English, Belgians, French, … German … it gives me plenty of opportunities to reflect on what it means to be Canadian.
The politics, health care, accents from tv? Mike Myers has said: “Canada is the essence of not being. Not English, not American, it is the mathematic of not being. And a subtle flavour - we’re more like celery as a flavour.”

Flavour or not, things the Aussies and Kiwis don’t have a clue about: double-doubles, what it means to jersey someone, how warming poutine is on an icy cold -25C winter day, the ache of shoveling snow. By the way, expressions that only work in Canada: “Have you seen so and so today? No, we’ve been playing Polkaroo” (lots of strange looks when i said that the other week.

As the lone Canadian in the company of several hundred my pride and love for Canada has grown. Even if I can’t pin point “canadian”. But I have caught myself picking up Australian phrases. Today, I actually used “reckon” and “mates” in the same sentence. The antidote? playing You Tube Tragically Hip videos on full volume. Is the Canadian back in me? Not fully, completely, but almost.

Day 2 work stressfree (almost)

Interesting thing today was a lunch time pilates class in Soho (sorry mayfair, your expensive real estate make your classes too expensive).  Instructor was sufficiently militant.  I liked it.

Post work was dinner at a gastro pub with Paul and Linda.  Today is their last day in London, it went by fast!

Better know-a neighbourhood: Mayfair

With the big project over, work is definitely stress free (well for me, others not so much).  Which leaves me time to finally get to know my neighbourhood.  Mayfair isn’t just about fancy shops and high priced tailors, no you can also spend your money at one of the many art galleries too.  Today at lunch I went to the James Hyman Gallery to check out an exhibit of Linda McCartney’s photography.

It was actually very good work:

When did July sneak up?

The past few months have gone by far too quickly. Work has dominated my life for most of that time, but thankfully the big project is over (for now). So, aside from cheese on on Saturday it’s been a great weekend in the city. Friday evening I met Paul and Linda at Blackfriars for a pint in a traditional pub. The weather was good so they got to experience the British habit of drinking outside the pub in the ‘garden area’. Translation: sidewalk. I also took them to Wagamamas, a London institution and then to a classic british pub: Ye Olde Chesire Cheese. A pub since the 1500’s it has a solid classic british ambiance. And, if it’s good enough for the likes of Mark Twain and Charles Dickens, then it’s good enough for me and my guests!

Saturday was the cheese shop, then a wander through the Pride festivities and some shopping in Soho.  Later (possibly inspired by Wimbledon)  I ventured south of the river (gasp!) to meet some coworkers for a doubles match.  All I’ll say is that I’m rusty, and in need for a few more practices before I attempt that again.  Penny, my kiwi coworker and I had dinner near the courts in a nice part of Clapham.  I can see why so many people our age live here, it’s quite nice, but a bit too subruban for my tastes (sorry Adrienne!).  And then later still, after a change of clothes, I met Penny at the Absolut Ice Bar.  Surprising to me, only 15 minutes of our 4 hours there were in the ice bar.  Something about health and safety?    My carbon footprint didn’t feel to good either.  (did I just say carbon footprint??  Wow, this entry just screams mid 2000’s).

 Today, the weather turned on us (again).  After brunch at the Wolesley I actually had to buy a sweater, I was that chilled.  And it stayed that way most of the day.  I stayed in doors at various shops and department stores, elsewhere in Hyde Park Paul and Linda were at the outdoor O2 concert festival, probably soaking wet, but probably quite content with listening to Ben Harper live.

I finished my weekend with a trip out to Angel to the trusty old Tinderbox coffee shop.  There I read most of this weeks Time Out London magazine so I think i’m up to speed on what’s happening in the city this week.  Hopefully now that I am long-hours-at-work free, I’ll be able to enjoy some of these things.  At least I hope.

For the Love of Cheese (Guest Addition): Paul and linda do the cheese shop

This month, our visitors are Jason’s cousin Paul and Paul’s girlfriend Linda.  They’re incredibly organised tourists, with itineraries planned, concert tickets pre-purchased and guided tours booked; they’ve planned a solid 9 days.  And it leaves me with extremely limited tour guiding duties.  The one thing I can offer though, is a trip to the best cheese shop in London, La Fromagerie in Marylebone.  Linda is a fellow cheese obsessed fanatic.  She spent a very happy 20 minutes in the climate controlled cheese room, overwhelmed by the selection.

For me, a new cheese: Peladron

France, Languedoc

goat

semi soft

Thick medallion shaped soft cheese with natural scraped white crust, which with maturing becomes dotted with blue moulds. A traditional farmhouse cheese with a gentle goaty, nutty tastes and fudgy texture. Best season July and August, with really rich and buttery cheeses appearing in early autumn.

Being Canadian

Sylvia and I were in Canada this weekend for my cousin Jeremy’s wedding. On the road down to Windsor we stopped at a good ol’ Canadian service station for a snack.

A Tim Horton’s medium double double and box of 10 Timbits.

Very Canadian. Though I was reminded that Tim Horton’s coffee is crap.

I also went to Canadian Tire to buy some duct tape.

And now we’re drinking Bloody Ceasers. Pretty authentic weekend.

One of these days I’m going to lose it!

As part of my very long daily commute from London to Cambridge (by the way, Brits LOVE talking about commuting for some reason), I cycle from the Cambridge station into my office. A nice 15 minute ride through the centre of town.

Cycling is really popular in Cambridge. It seem that there are about one - maybe two - billion bicycles at Cambridge station (the photo only shows one lot). It’s quite difficult to find a spot to lock my bike sometimes so in the evenings I put it wherever I can and then run to catch my train back to London. Many times - especially after it’s been a while - I forget where I parked. This makes for a fun game of “find the bike” in the mornings.

In the mornings you’ll often see some sorry souls, dressed up in full bike gear, pacing up and down the rows at Cambridge station trying to find their cycle. Unfortunately bikes sometimes get stolen, so the worst people to watch are the ones who have been there for a while as it slowly sinks in that their bike is no longer there (and that’s why I lock mine with two different locks).

This morning I was one of those sorry people wandering for 5 minutes. I had been travelling for a few days so I couldn’t quite remember where I’d locked up my bike in my hurried rush on Friday night. I did find my nike in the end, but one of these days I know how it’s going to go:

• after a long business trip I’ll come back to Cambridge and start pacing down the isles.
• after about 20 minutes of searching and cursing I’ll give up
• the next weekend I’ll buy a new bicycle
• and then some day I’ll be pacing the aisles, looking for my new bike, and I’ll see my old bike, parked right where I left it just a few months prior.

Then I’ll really lose it.

The only thing that would convince me to go back to Canada

… would be being selected AS A FREAK’N ASTRONAUT!!!

Sadly with my lousy vision I’ll be lucky to keep my driver’s license after 35. Speaking of which, I picked up an eye infection in Northern Ireland this weekend.

Belfast

I don’t think i’m allowed to complain about the weather in London again.  It may be dark and dreary in London lately, and yes I may have worn a pair of wool trousers to work this week that in Canada don’t see the light of day between April and October.  But all of that pales in comparison to Belfast.

It’s actually damn cold here.   Jeans, wool jumper?  check.  Trench coat and umbrella? check.  Sopping wet feet and craving for a cup of tea?  check, check.

It’s a nice enough looking city though (what I can see from under my umbrella).  For now, we sit in a coffee shop try to dry off and wait for Jason’s friend to ring us.

Summer days!

Finally! Warm weather, blue skies, sun! Today was like that perfect Toronto may 2-4 weekend. Hello summer.
And hopefully not yet goodbye, you fickle tease. Sent from my BlackBerry® wireless device

Drinking ban on the tube

Last month we mentioned that London was electing a new mayor. Well, the guy we didn’t pick came into power. First on the agenda, ban drinking on the tube. The ban kicked in on June 1st. Saturday May 31st, there was one hell of a goodbye cocktail party on the circle line. I went to a bit of it, just to see. Yup, as suspected lots of drunk and rowdy’s what the Brits would call ASB, anti-social behaviour. 17 arrests later the party was a sloppy mess.
How’s that ban working out? I get on the tube just now, 5 days into the ban, to see a fat chav downing a heineken beer can out of a paper bag. Nice. So basically we’ve just hidden it.
Bravo Mayor Boris. Sent from my BlackBerry® wireless device

For the (long lost) love of cheese

Fluer de chevre - a light mild and creamy goats cheese from France.

A new cheese and a new cheese shop. La Fromagerie just off Marlybone High Street. Their cheese room is climate controlled and only allows 6 customers at a time inside (lest our body heat bother the cheese!).

These people are serious about cheese!

Sunday in the city

After a morning swim at Oasis, a dimsum with a friend at Hakkasan (the greatest dimsum ever!), I stopped by the British museum on the walk home to catch their latest temporary exhibit:

British museum. Sent from my BlackBerry� wireless device

Of All descriptions?

That’s a bold claim! Sent from my BlackBerry® wireless device

Bank Holiday in Santorini

I’ve realized that I have a bad habit of coming back from holiday with the best of intentions to write up the trip, only to get busy and weeks later realise that not only is that holiday so last week, I couldn’t be arsed to do a write up. So this time, I seized the free wifi and drafted this up while still there.

And even with that, here I am, a week back for the trip and I’ve slipped. Oops! just the same, here it is:

Santorini.

After an overnight flight from Heathrow through Athens we arrived to cold foggy 7am Santorini. The manager of the Mill Houses was extremely accommodating for our early arrival. He made us a fresh pot of tea and brought us a few slices of citrus birthday cake, while he hurried around to see if our room could be readied. We sat on the terrace munching on cake bundled up in a multitude of layers. The view was non existent through the fog. The fog did help make everything horribly damp though, and I wasn’t feeling too good about this latest bank holiday choice. It is the low season still. A flash back of last years late May bank holiday comes to mind when we went hiking in the off season of Switzerland and hit a snow storm. The things I make us endure for off season prices!

After only half an hour the manager came by and informed us that our room was ready. 7:30 am and our room is ready? Unbelievable. less then 10 minutes later we were sound asleep.

5 hours later we awoke to what seriously was a new day. The fog had burned off, the sky was brilliant blue and the view was every bit the brochure promised. Firastefani made for the perfect first day overnight recovery spot. It’s picturesque and quiet. Something you really appreciate when you walk the mere 15 minutes to the capital Fira to find 2 cruise ships of tourists swarming about the narrow streets asking joyous things like: ‘Do you take american dollars?’ Loved the response by the way: ‘no! euro only.’ My thoughts: listen lady, this isn’t 1997, leave your American peso on the cruise ship. You’re in the EU now. It’s called a bank machine, use it.

By day 2 we switched hotels to one in Thira thinking we’d be closer to the action. Action, not really, but we were definitely closer to the tourist hive. So we rented a Smart car and explored the island. The part of Santorini that’s not postcarded to death includes flatter ground, sea level accommodation and lots of black sand beaches. If you care to mimic being a sausage on a teflon pan, this is the place for you. The average age of the tourist drops by about 25 years too. the old folks don’t make it this far from the cruise ship, the stick to the well beaten tourist circuit, and the high concentration of jewellery stores. And the ones that do make it to this side, are very laid back people who ditch the tick list of sites to see, and instead grab a nice cocktail in the very comfy beach bars.

Day 3: Oia. (pronounced EE-a!)

Truly amateur photographer’s paradise. Any snap happy monkey puppet named Bobo could take a decent picture in this town. Point, click and it’s photo after photo of postcard perfect shots. With my snap happy Bobo in tow, we wandered the town. As much as I thought the houses were perched on cliffs in Fira, Oia takes the dare just that extra step further.

The town is essentially one long pedestrianized street that hugs the edge of the cliff.

Everything was just that much more picturesque in Oia. the hotels, restaurants, shops even the walk ways. We got lucky with our hotel choice (booked online less than 24 hours before departure). Armeni Village is perched on a cliff like the others, but it’s on prime real estate jutting out away from the others.

On Day 4 we took the classic volcano tour. Since the island is the site of the biggest volcanic eruption the planet has ever seen we thought we should get up close with the crater. Basically 3600 years ago the volcano erupted and blew the island into chunks, and now what’s left is a well manufactured tour that is incredibly efficient at draining your tourist euro. It was Memorial Day weekend in the States, which resulted in an abnormally disproportionate amount of Americans.

That aside, and the fact that I felt like an ant marching two by two, the tour was interesting. As far as volcanoes go, I’ve seen better. But getting out to the actual volcano really gave you perspective as to how far away the main island is, and that pre-explosion it was all connected.

Back in Oia the tour boat dropped us off at the peer and rather than fight the tourists for the limited number of shuttle vans, we scrambled up the cliff to the town high above. As the donkeys breezes past you, it’s a humbling experience. They are in wicked shape.

Our long weekend ended the same way every night in Santorini ends. Yet another sunset to admire as you fade into relaxation.