http://jazzman.blog.co.uk/My ramblings, pure mudane ramblings! Because a guy's gotta ramble......And also pictures, pictures and more pictures!en-UKhttp://backend.userland.com/rss092http://jazzman.blog.co.uk/http://data5.blog.de/design/preview/04/c6e80b79c0b06d816e09b4d47a71f5_160x200.jpg <p>So I checked out of the Hotel and knew that by the time I final kick back in my seat on the plane and relax my feet will be rancid. It was 33 degrees outside and I had a 20 minute ride on the KL mono rail and probably an hour wait until boarding.</p> <p>I was traveling light and had acquired a few more items in the fews days that I had been here but especially during my 2 days stay in Singapore. The consequence of which is that I could not pack my trainers and had to wear them to the airport. I hadn't brought any socks either as I couldn't quite conceive a scenario where I would require socks either in Malaysia or Singapore. I barely wear socks in the summer in London and temperature here barely gets above 25 degrees. So socks, in Malaysia/Singapore where the July temperatures average 35 degrees, seem superfluous. I thought maybe I could take them of when I get to the airport and waiting to board. In the end, the my single minded determination to get a decent seat with leg room I forgot to retrieve my sandals from my luggage and my feet just got hotter and smellier. So I wander around the duty free shops a little in the knowledge that I had very little Ringits left and what little I had I need for my caffeine fix before I get on a 14 hour flight back to Blighty. So I wander some more.</p> <p>When the seat belt signs finally went out, I made a mad dash for the loo - drawback of having a caffeine fix before any flight, however long t is. I am always dying or a pee whilst the plane is taxing in to take off. After I had relived myself I sat back down and promptly eased my trainers off from my throbbing feet and kicked back.</p> <p>Now, I must have unconsciously held my breath because the first I knew my feet were really rancid was when I heard from behind me, a fellow passenger ask her traveling companion if he could smell 'that'. "Somebody has taken their shoes off and their feet smell real bad!" "It's disgusting". I allowed myself a wry smile plugged my earphones in, tilted my seat back and thought ' Suck it in Baby"</p> <p><a href="http://www.blog.co.uk/media/photo/r0011059/3775494" title="R0011059"><img src="http://data5.blog.de/media/494/3775494_347c486b9f_s.jpeg" alt="R0011059"></a><a href="http://www.blog.co.uk/media/photo/bugist_junction_shopping_mall/3775496" title="Bugist Junction Shopping Mall"><img src="http://data5.blog.de/media/496/3775496_8a87126711_s.jpeg" alt="Bugist Junction Shopping Mall"></a><a href="http://www.blog.co.uk/media/photo/union_square_latin_club/3775497" title="Union Square Latin Club"><img src="http://data5.blog.de/media/497/3775497_cb07c19ada_s.jpeg" alt="Union Square Latin Club"></a></p> <p>It had occurred to me tonight that I have not been to the dentist for years. My last check up was uneventful until I stupidly asked the dentist if he could polish my teeth. A procedure that my last dentist in Leeds performed as part and parcel of my routine check up. However, I had now moved back to London and this dentist screwed up his face in disgust and informed me that he could but he'll have to charge me a rather lot for it. "But I can recommend a good Hygienist who would do it cheaper'. Stroppy, i I thought. And I hadn't been to a dentist since. That was in the summer of 2000.</p> <p> <small> <a href="http://jazzman.blog.co.uk/2009/08/11/smelly-feet-and-stroppy-dentist-6695693/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>http://jazzman.blog.co.uk/2009/08/11/smelly-feet-and-stroppy-dentist-6695693/Tue, 11 Aug 2009 00:31:26 +0200 <p>I, for reasons best know to my mad self, have take it upon myself to learn Mandarin. Little did I know that this language was specifically designed to exclude me. I know a labour under rather unfounded notion that I can learn any language. I suppose the fact that I am bilingual and the fact that over the year I have spoken. to some degrees, up 3 languages at once at any one time. English, Yoruba, French, Spanish, Kiswahili and now making a concerted effort to learn Mandarin. But I feel the Chinese have anticipated this and there designed the language to thwart any of my efforts to get to grips with the tongue twisting nuances of the Chinese language. </p> <p>Not only does one one to deal with a language that in the written form is pictograms and ideograms but also tonal in the spoken. I shall not be beaten though. I like a challenge!</p> <p><a href="http://www.blog.co.uk/media/photo/leeds_city_hall/3340776" title="Leeds City Hall"><img src="http://data5.blog.de/media/776/3340776_490d38600e_m.jpeg" alt="Leeds City Hall" vspace="5" hspace="5"></a><a href="http://www.blog.co.uk/media/photo/viva_latina/3340777" title="Viva Latina"><img src="http://data5.blog.de/media/777/3340777_079e23d7ec_m.jpeg" alt="Viva Latina" vspace="5" hspace="5"></a><a href="http://www.blog.co.uk/media/photo/leeds_city_centre/3340778" title="Leeds City Centre"><img src="http://data5.blog.de/media/778/3340778_35d778eb45_m.jpeg" alt="Leeds City Centre" vspace="5" hspace="5"></a></p> <p>I have posted a few pics from my trip up north to Leeds last weekend. I spent many memorably years in Leeds but I had not been back there for many years. The places was bustling and all the banks and building societies seems to have morphed in to bars. Leeds is a great place to hang out. Not sure if 'd ever move back there though.</p> <p> <small> <a href="http://jazzman.blog.co.uk/2009/03/21/mad-mandarin-meanderings-5804188/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>http://jazzman.blog.co.uk/2009/03/21/mad-mandarin-meanderings-5804188/Sat, 21 Mar 2009 22:56:20 +0100 <p>So it took me 3 visits to Qingdao to final getting round to giving the Beer Factory a visit. Tsingtao beer is after all world famous and I drink nothing else whenever I am in China. If I was to be honest, I could have waited another 3 visits.It is not the most interesting thing to do in Qingdao. A visit to to old German Governor's office is more illuminating but you do get two free samples of the famous beer and getting to see a working beer factory in action.</p> <p>I was in Qingdao again to see my friend Angel and also to teach Salsa and Bachata for my new friend Jenny. Jenny run a salsa school/bar in Qingdao called Salsa Q. A friendly warm joint attracting a wide cross section of people dancers from the QD community including a few expats like Ricki from Korea and Massa and his wife both form Japan. The main attraction being, apart from the Salsa of course, the relaxed and friendly environment in which to learn and dance. The Salsa community in QD is small and although closely knit, it is also very welcoming. I felt straight at home their and like a long lost member of the QD Salsa family. </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://jazzman.blog.co.uk/2009/01/18/chilling-in-qingdao-5397956/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>http://jazzman.blog.co.uk/2009/01/18/chilling-in-qingdao-5397956/Sun, 18 Jan 2009 12:13:50 +0100 <p>I am back from my trip to China and Taiwan but still somewhat jet-lagged. Unfortunately I was not able to update my blog in China as the Great Firewall of China now blocks most blog sites I think. I will post some pics today but filling you in on what I got up to on this trip in China later when I have the energy and had had enough sleep. At the moment, I can barely stay awake past 8 pm and I am wide awake at 4 am.</p> <p><a href="http://www.blog.co.uk/media/photo/qingdao/3147107" title="Qingdao"><img src="http://data5.blog.de/media/107/3147107_fb2814172d_m.jpeg" alt="Qingdao" vspace="5" hspace="5"></a><a href="http://www.blog.co.uk/media/photo/tainan/3147109" title="Tainan"><img src="http://data5.blog.de/media/109/3147109_4290015e0d_m.jpeg" alt="Tainan" vspace="5" hspace="5"></a><br> <a href="http://www.blog.co.uk/media/photo/taipei/3147121" title="Taipei"><img src="http://data5.blog.de/media/121/3147121_535e90ac1e_m.jpeg" alt="Taipei" vspace="5" hspace="5"></a><a href="http://www.blog.co.uk/media/photo/kaohsiung/3147122" title="Kaohsiung"><img src="http://data5.blog.de/media/122/3147122_c3256e185c_m.jpeg" alt="Kaohsiung" vspace="5" hspace="5"></a><a href="http://www.blog.co.uk/media/photo/kaohsiung/3147123" title="Kaohsiung"><img src="http://data5.blog.de/media/123/3147123_134551e7b9_m.jpeg" alt="Kaohsiung" vspace="5" hspace="5"></a> </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://jazzman.blog.co.uk/2009/01/15/reality-beckons-5384253/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>http://jazzman.blog.co.uk/2009/01/15/reality-beckons-5384253/Thu, 15 Jan 2009 21:15:17 +0100 <p>I remember them well. The 2000 and 2004 US Presidential elections. I remember the incredulous disbelief that GW was elected not once but twice! What is wrong with you people. Or is it me? I am living in a parallel universe where GW is actually a witty and articulate fellow. I was resigned to a life time of neocon nincompoopery. The world has changed and I'd better get used to it and stop getting angry.</p> <p>I discovered Barrack Obama earlier this year in February or at least that is the earliest time I can remember taking any thing more than a passing interest in the man who was going to make history and change the world yet again. I was in my little brother's apartment in Atlanta, Georgia. Well he is six foot 3 and weighs about 16 stones so he is not so little really. I was in ATL, as it is affectional referred to in the US, to see my younger sibling and to get a flavour of Flava 3 Salsa Congress. About mid morn when I awoke from my much deserved slumber, after hours of pounding the dance floor to the hypnotic beats of the salsa dura, I automatically reached for my Mac and scanned Youtube for any interesting videos whilst I waited for my brother to wake up. It is during one of these sessions that I happened upon a speech of Mr Obama. I was mesmerised. I then spent any spare time I had in ATL on my Mac watching his speeches, interviews, etc. This I have done now for months and throughout the democratic primaries I was glued to the screen of my laptop scouring the web for any piece of information about the primaries I could lay my hands on. I was hooked I have to admit I went right off Hilary and I certainly changed my ideas about Bill Clinton whom I had supported from afar and thought he got a raw deal from the rabid right of American politics during his presidency.</p> <p>The truth is,I have also witnessed the false starts of Jessie Jackson is then 80s.So I bought in wholeheartedly to the premise that an African American is unlikely to get the chance in the US to run for President let alone get elected President. I bought into the Southern Strategy malarkey, the Bradley Effect shenanigans  and all other political theories which deftly articulated why this scenarios is unlikely to ever happen. Well, not in my life time anyway. So you can imagine my shock when Mr Obama actually defeated Mrs Rodham Clinton and was actually nominated as the Democratic nominee for President. Damn! I thought. Can ths really be.</p> <p>I watched in earnest as the Presidentially campaign rolled out and I have to admit again I expected disaster. The well oiled Republican wrecking machine will soon swift-boat his sorry little skinny arse like they did a certain John Kerry back in 2004. I waited and waited and nothing of any substance materialised. Sure they was the Reverend Wright but to be honest I just did not see this as an issue that could fatally wound the slick Obama Express. Sarah Palin turned up and sure I thought, Shit! This is it! Then she open her proverbially gob and then we all realised that this was but a mere comic interlude the relieve the otherwise serious business of electing the most powerful person on earth to office. Incidentally I think Africa ought to be a country as well as a continent; The United Sates of Africa. Granted it would be a bureaucratic nightmare but the it more or less is. Why not have it centralised.</p> <p>I stayed up all night to watch the US presidentially election. I did not even do this for Bill Clinton. Gore to be honest I thought was a bore. So did everyone one it they were honest until he made that film about the environment. John Kerry? Something told me h was just another Jimmy Carter waiting to happen but I'll hazard a guess that it was a case of anyone but Bush so he'll do.</p> <p>I had CNN for company all night and watched every result as they develop and were eventually called. I consumed an unhealthy amount of tea interspersed with the odd rum and coke. Sure, I would have liked to have had it the other way round, but it was a school night and I was not going to rolling into work mid week suffering the ill effects of too much rum and tension.</p> <p>And when the moment came and Mr Obama was declared the likely winner, I still held out for that phantom republican wrecking machine to deliver an unplayable yorker and rip through the carefully constructed alternative reality of Obama winning the US presidentially election.</p> <p>I can not remember any other time in recent memory when I was happier and I was not on a dancefloor somewhere. Words can not describe my feeling so I am not even going to try.</p> <p>But it is at moment like these that I am overcome with that surreal feeling that things outside my field of vision don't actually exist. And things just get rolled out minutes before they come into view to fool me into thinking that I exist. But I am onto them, because every now and then they slip up and have illogical constructs like a gimp being the president of the most powerful country in the world for the lat eight years or americans voting for a mixed race fellow whose surname has more than 2 syllable and his middle name is Hussein to be President. Yeah right. I am on to you guys. </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://jazzman.blog.co.uk/2008/11/15/harsh-realities-os-surrealism-5037848/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>http://jazzman.blog.co.uk/2008/11/15/harsh-realities-os-surrealism-5037848/Sat, 15 Nov 2008 00:57:52 +0100 <p>I am rediscovering my love for Jazz and this can be solely attributed mainly to iTunes, or to be more accurate it is down to the new gizmo in the latest version of ITunes called Genius. Genius searches through ones iTunes library and recommends other songs it thinks might be to ones taste. I was completely skeptical at first but then again, I am an Apple freak and will give any new Apple idea a bloody good go like the rest of the Apple faithfully. This blindly believing that Steve Job can do no wrong. Well I was well and truly stupefied! This gizmo actually works. And as a result, I have bought as much music from iTunes in the last two months as I have done for the first eight months of the year. Hey, hey hey not daft these Apple folks</p> <p>Most if not all of the music I have bought on iTunes in the last two months has been Jazz in one format or another. I pretty much like most formats of jazz except the so called Trad Jazz which I loathe with a passion.</p> <p>Jazz is somewhat akin to marmite in so much that you either love it or hate it. I live it. Words can not begin to express my passion for jazz. It ability to not only to reflect my moods if need be but also to change my moods when called upon to do so.</p> <p>My earliest memories of being captivated by jazz was in my early teens by George Benson, before some A&R man suggested it might be a good idea if he sung, Earl Klugh was another favorite of mine. What Mr Klugh and Mr Benson had in common was that their instrument of choice was the guitar. Which, interestingly enough, belies the much held notion by some that jazz equal saxophone. I can't for the life of my remember Earl's track but George's was called 'Weekend in LA'. In fact I am going to buy the tune again on iTunes. Three decades after I first heard it.</p> <p>Somewhere along the road to complete jazz addiction I came across Oscar Peterson. A great pianist. The first time I ever heard 'Take The A Train', it was Oscar's version. Mr Peterson did to jazz piano what Ella Fitzgerald did to vocal jazz. To listen to him languidly but effortlessly sprinkle tunes from his perch in front of an ever shiny grand piano was to have you mesmerised that sound beautiful music can emanate fro such a large contraption.</p> <p>So my journey began. I devoured jazz where ever I could get it to satisfy my insatiably appetite for the format. This was back in the day before CD, before internet and certainly before iTunes. Of course a journey like this begins cautiously taking in the well known jazz greats which are pretty much household names these days but I get hook on the be-bop boys, the moody melancholists, the new school. Dudes like John Coltrane, Miles Davis, Art Blakely, et al. Yeah the smokey black and white clips were cool, the suits were sharp but most of all the music touch my soul, stopped me in my tracks and made me think "This is why we live".</p> <p>Okay some random shots</p> <p><a href="http://www.blog.co.uk/media/photo/paparazzi_bar/2877804" title="Paparazzi Bar"><img src="http://data5.blog.de/media/804/2877804_c72f941d77_m.jpeg" alt="Paparazzi Bar" vspace="5" hspace="5"></a></p> <p>Paparazzi Bar in Bratislava</p> <p><a href="http://www.blog.co.uk/media/photo/20_st_james_s_square/2877811" title="20 St James"><img src="http://data5.blog.de/media/811/2877811_10d6bd51e7_m.jpeg" alt="20 St James" vspace="5" hspace="5"></a></p> <p> <small> <a href="http://jazzman.blog.co.uk/2008/10/08/jazz-genius-4842005/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>http://jazzman.blog.co.uk/2008/10/08/jazz-genius-4842005/Wed, 08 Oct 2008 23:02:38 +0200 <p>Well not quite, since the place is tiny. At the beginning of July earlier this year I spent six glorious days in Rovinj. What a truly beautiful and peaceful place this is. Although ostensibly we, Mo Neil and I, went for yet another Salsa Congress, the truth is we really went there to chill, lay on the beach and for the infamous pool party. </p> <p>Is it possible to buy shares in Ryanair? I have certainly cover some miles in their planes this year, mostly to Eastern Europe. I nearly went to Rovinj two year ago but back then it seemed to me a hellish place to get to. Thankfully, one now need only to fly to Pula and it is but half and hour drive or so from there. I am surely glad I went this year. We managed to rent an apartment in the Old town which was thankfully air conditioned. Rovinj is boiling hot in July. Our apartment had cool wooden floors and a 'postcard picture' view of one of Rovinj main squares. Easily walking distance from anywhere we'd ever want to go in Rovinj. Even from Monvi, the only nightclub in Rovinj. Actually its about 10 night clubs in one! Where everyone drinks Sangria straight from the jug like those big german tankards of beer. I had to stumble back drunk all the way from Monvi at 7am whilst Mo shook his head disappointingly at the sight of me try to negotiate my now sangria soaked six foot four frame through the uneven streets of Rovinj. He is use to hanging out drinking with Rugby League players so he really could understand how someone can get so drunk and what seems to him so little. I don't think it was the Sangria though, but the hour of rum and coke session with one of the Dejays after the club had shut. Nonetheless it goes down as a good night in my books if not in my memory.</p> <p><a href="http://www.blog.co.uk/media/photo/ivana_mo/2840125" title="Ivana & Mo"><img src="http://data5.blog.de/media/125/2840125_0a88887d37_m.jpeg" alt="Ivana & Mo" vspace="5" hspace="5"></a></p> <p>Rovinj, I hesitate to add, is very popular with families from Northern European countries which is not really a problem but I think it did get very tedious being stared at by families of four everywhere we went as if we had just landed from Mars. The locals on the other hand were very friendly and always had time to stop to have a quick banter. After all Croatia was primarily responsible for England's non-participation in Euro 2008. "We kicked your arses" my good friend Ivana kept reminding me.</p> <p><a href="http://www.blog.co.uk/media/photo/sunset_in_rovinj/2840143" title="Sunset in Rovinj"><img src="http://data5.blog.de/media/143/2840143_ab3c16d005_m.jpeg" alt="Sunset in Rovinj" vspace="5" hspace="5"></a><a href="http://www.blog.co.uk/media/photo/rovinj_old_town/2840144" title="Rovinj Old Town"><img src="http://data5.blog.de/media/144/2840144_343c0af2db_m.jpeg" alt="Rovinj Old Town" vspace="5" hspace="5"></a></p> <p>Our daily routine basically consisted of and without much variation; get up very late, have breakfast, hit the beach, have a few beers, hit the beach, late supper and then dance all night. Amazingly enough we didn't discover the coolest bar in Rovinj, Zanzibar, until our last night as Mo and I walked around refusing to go to sleep as it would mean the end of such a lovely break. After a few drinks at Zanzibars we had to leave because they were closing, so went wandered over to he sea promenade and smoked a few cheap cigarettes with the sound of waves gently lapping the sea wall as we reminisced about our splendid long weekend in Rovinj.</p> <p><a href="http://www.blog.co.uk/media/photo/graffiti_rovinj/2840151" title="Graffiti Rovinj"><img src="http://data5.blog.de/media/151/2840151_8fc543ebe4_m.jpeg" alt="Graffiti Rovinj" vspace="5" hspace="5"></a><a href="http://www.blog.co.uk/media/photo/salsa_rovinj/2840152" title="Salsa Rovinj"><img src="http://data5.blog.de/media/152/2840152_bed5c3ee1a_m.jpeg" alt="Salsa Rovinj" vspace="5" hspace="5"></a><a href="http://www.blog.co.uk/media/photo/pool_party/2840153" title="Pool Party"><img src="http://data5.blog.de/media/153/2840153_29189d0d38_m.jpeg" alt="Pool Party" vspace="5" hspace="5"></a></p> <p> <small> <a href="http://jazzman.blog.co.uk/2008/09/24/roving-in-rovinj-4775683/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>http://jazzman.blog.co.uk/2008/09/24/roving-in-rovinj-4775683/Wed, 24 Sep 2008 22:57:44 +0200 <p>The first time I went to Berlin I honestly can not remember ever stepping outside of the hotel. I really can't. I must have, even if it was just to get to the Salsa Parties) Why do European Salseros always refer to the as Salsa Parties). The only times I remember being outside the hotel is walking from and to the airport. I really only remember this because this must be the only airport I have ever been to where I have been able to walk from the airport to my hotel. I think it took about 10 minutes.(Any guesses as to which airport). </p> <p>So on my return visit a couple of weeks ago, even though I was only in Berlin for two nights, I was determined to see the gates; if nothing else. I did really enjoy Berlin this time round but I really wasn't over enamoured by the bit of the city that I saw. The gates were beautiful even though someone went and plonked a monstrously characterless building right next to it. But in general the city seemed quiet and not all together that exciting. Admittedly I was in what was the Eastern part of the city and quite possible the soul has probably been ripped out by past communist bureaucracy and it has still yet to recover. It could just because I needed more time to appreciate the place. I think a third and much longer visit is in order!</p> <p><a href="http://www.blog.co.uk/media/photo/img_3012/2840025" title="IMG_3012"><img src="http://data5.blog.de/media/025/2840025_222c4a0a7e_m.jpeg" alt="IMG_3012" vspace="5" hspace="5"></a><a href="http://www.blog.co.uk/media/photo/notitle/2840026" title=""><img src="http://data5.blog.de/media/026/2840026_ffa06552c6_m.jpeg" alt="" vspace="5" hspace="5"></a><a href="http://www.blog.co.uk/media/photo/notitle/2840027" title=""><img src="http://data5.blog.de/media/027/2840027_35baf3b7b9_m.jpeg" alt="" vspace="5" hspace="5"></a></p> <p> <small> <a href="http://jazzman.blog.co.uk/2008/09/24/berlin-again-4775395/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>http://jazzman.blog.co.uk/2008/09/24/berlin-again-4775395/Wed, 24 Sep 2008 21:49:51 +0200 <p>Twice I was asked today if I knew what you call a date like 080808, I didn't even realise there was a special name for days like these but twice I lied and said I knew but had forgotten. Why I did this I know not and care not but I am nonetheless curious as why this increased obsession with dates and number arrangements. For many years through my life as a pupil/student, every day I wrote the date at the top of my exercise book/note pad and in those days dates did fascinate me. But this is an acceptable schoolboy pastime but for adults it isquite frankly worrying.</p> <p>I have not blogged for a while for a variety of reasons. The main culprit being Facebook the other being the haphazardness of my life at the moment but I do remark to myself every so often that I ought to blog more often if only jut to practice and sharpen my writing skills. I am somewhat becoming bored of Facebook having acquired over 240 friends many of whom I never seen or spoken to. On the other hand it has been good in the sense that I know communicated with a lot of my salsa friends whom ordinarily I just say Hi to and dance with. I have long being convinced that Salsa is fully of the socially challenged with negligible social skills. Thankfully every week, I am proven wrong and as a result of getting to know more about my salsa companions other than their ability to keep time. I am constantly pleasantly surprised. </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://jazzman.blog.co.uk/2008/08/09/080808-4561981/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>http://jazzman.blog.co.uk/2008/08/09/080808-4561981/Sat, 09 Aug 2008 00:31:23 +0200 <p>And so it happened that two weeks ago to the day, I found myself unemployed for the first time in 20 years. With all this time on my hands I decided to do a few things I have always been meaning to do but somehow never quite got around to. Top on my priority is learning how to swim. Oh, and the fact the my GP, well the locum doctor because my GP was away, suggested that at my 'age' I ought to slow down and go easy on my joints. Try swimming he said. I'd have to earn first I thought.</p> <p>It is rather interesting for me to learn though that on informing people of my lack of ability to swim the assumption is made that this is due to some fear of water. Never quite under stood that one. Well I can say with some joy that I have been practicing my 'kicking' all afternoon in the tranquil swimming pool at the Royal Club Mohamed-Aly on the shore of the Nile in Cairo. Hence the title! Incidentally, visiting the Pyramids o Egypt somehow crept up to second on my list of things to do whilst I have the time so to do. I think the 'kicking' is coming along fine but not quite kicking - so to speak. But the Royal Club Mohamed-Aly sure is a nice place to practice. It is away from the hustle and bustle of downtown Cairo and is a 20 minute taxi ride through the ever present Cairo rush hour. A cacophony of blaring horns, near misses screeching and random phrase in Arabic tossed in the air with hand gestures for good measures. For some inexplicable reason that I really can't be bothered to delve into I thrive in this kind of urban mayhem. I fell at home surrounds by ritualised chaos. Nonetheless the tranquility of the Royal Club Mohamed-Aly was very welcomed.</p> <p>Today is my first full day in Cairo since I arrived on a very late flight this morning. As we came in to land over the night sky of Cairo, I peered out of the window as my plane glided serenely through the clear skies. Where is all this much talked about Cairo smog I wondered. Cairo looked absolutely resplendent at night. With isolate settlement twinkling in the dark like a great constellation in space. I liked Cairo already!</p> <p><img src="http://data5.blog.de/media/240/2575240_88ff035251_m.jpeg" alt="Royal Club Mohamed Aly" vspace="5" hspace="5"></p> <p> <small> <a href="http://jazzman.blog.co.uk/2008/06/04/al-qahirah-4272835/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>http://jazzman.blog.co.uk/2008/06/04/al-qahirah-4272835/Wed, 04 Jun 2008 18:29:55 +0200 <p>Okay, for one who proclaims to be very rational it seems odd that I have avoided an airline just because of one bad flight. So it was with this thought that I booked a last minute flight on Easy Jet to Sofia last weekend to attend the Bulgarian Salsa Festival. It was interesting to see that Easy Jet have gone easy on the orange and their flight attendants are no longer doomed to be covered head to toe in orange. Needless to say, the 3 hour flight from London to Sofia was not only faultless it was also pleasant.</p> <p>I arrived in Sofia quite late and it was already dark so I could not see much but my first impression was that it reminded me of Havana or Rostov with its wide streets and ample greenery. I was staying in a friend of a friends apartment which was located in a typically communist era type tenement tower block with a huge metal door at the entrance. The apartment it self was large and cosy and it immediately felt like a home from home. However I only had enough time for a quick glass of Bulgarian Beer and a chicken drumstick and it was straight out to the serious business of dancing.</p> <p>All the parties for the Salsa Festival were held in a club called 4KM, on account of it being located i an area that is 4km from Sofia city centre -So I was told. I kid you not.</p> <p>For the Salsaheads; The floor was fast and the room was airconditioned. Predominantely On 1 Dancers with a generoud helping of Bachata. All in all a thoroughly good atmosphere. The only negative being smokers on the dance floor.</p> <p><a href="http://www.blog.co.uk/media/photo/friday_night/2512832" title="Friday Night"><img src="http://data5.blog.de/media/832/2512832_266f1a8163_s.jpeg" alt="Friday Night" vspace="5" hspace="5"></a><a href="http://www.blog.co.uk/media/photo/saturday_night/2512833" title="Saturday Night"><img src="http://data5.blog.de/media/833/2512833_17df4cc94f_s.jpeg" alt="Saturday Night" vspace="5" hspace="5"></a><a href="http://www.blog.co.uk/media/photo/tall_salsera_from_holland/2512834" title="Tall Salsera from Holland"><img src="http://data5.blog.de/media/834/2512834_b5f333f99d_s.jpeg" alt="Tall Salsera from Holland" vspace="5" hspace="5"></a></p> <p> <small> <a href="http://jazzman.blog.co.uk/2008/05/07/sofia-so-good-4142536/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>http://jazzman.blog.co.uk/2008/05/07/sofia-so-good-4142536/Wed, 07 May 2008 11:24:09 +0200 <p>Discuss..... </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://jazzman.blog.co.uk/2008/04/30/is-facebook-killing-off-blogging-4112499/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>http://jazzman.blog.co.uk/2008/04/30/is-facebook-killing-off-blogging-4112499/Wed, 30 Apr 2008 01:58:03 +0200 <p>I was leisurely driving back from work today in the evening sun, furtively glancing at my petrol gauge and negotiating omnipresent roadworks that dot the roadscape of London like deserted beaver settlements waiting to be demolish. The 'low fuel' warning light has been blinking all day and being a creature of habit I was determined to limp to my usual garage on the Old Street. I had a replacement car for the week as my regular drive was having a nose job as a consequence of my brief tango with the No 143 outside Westminster Abbey some weeks back. Earlier today, a motorcylist gave my the finger! This was in reply to me flashing him - with my headlamps. He was after all driving the wrong way down the road and coming straight at me. </p> <p>So I wasmildly amused to see, as I drove down Old St, and well dressed young lady effing and blinding at another well dressed young lady on the pavement. Pavement Rage, was a phrase that instantly popped into my head. What could have possibly being the cause off all this rage. I mean how do two people walking in the opposite direction on the pavement sudden get into a state where they are shouting at each other at half past five on a warm wednesday evening. It is simply not the sort of thing I couln't imagine myself getting into. I don't even do road rage. </p> <p>A few weeks back when I had my bumper riped of by an impatient bus drive who insisted on sharing my lane, barely a word passed between us. I muttered to myself 'If you really must' as I sat in the car and watched a big red double deck bus try to make my car more aerodynamic. We both parked up, took each others details down, I gave him my business card and the only words uttered were;</p> <p>Me; What is your name?<br> He: Tony Blair (well not really but you get my drift)</p> <p>I checked his ID and that was it. No theartrics, no 'what the fuck were you trying to do'....nothing. Admittedly, I did suspect that his grasp of the English Language being somewhat limited may have had something to do with the abscence of any angry words. That, and also the fact that very few people would really want to get into that sort of thing with a six foot four black guy in the middle of London. Even one wearing a suit.</p> <p><a href="http://www.blog.co.uk/srv/media/media_item.php?item_ID=1711611" title="DC Rocks"><img src="http://data4.blog.de/media/611/1711611_ce4938e50a_m.jpeg" alt="DC Rocks" vspace="5" hspace="5"></a></p> <p> <small> <a href="http://jazzman.blog.co.uk/2007/06/20/pavement_rage~2490096/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>http://jazzman.blog.co.uk/2007/06/20/pavement_rage~2490096/Wed, 20 Jun 2007 22:32:27 +0200 <p>I hooked up for my Bro for the Washington DC Salsa Congress except it was actually in Virginnia which is very confusing for an out-of-towner. A bit like saying the Wuppertal Salsa Congress is in Maastricht. So it cost me a 60 buck taxi ride from IAD airport to get there. Reagan Aiport is right next door to the hotel and they have free shuttles!!! Damn! The congress was held at the Sheraton National Hotel, Arlinton Vitginnia. Okay-ish...looks like it could do with a major refurb but our room was huge! As congress goes this is probably one of the friendliest US Congresses i have been to. As good as Falva Invasion earlier in the year in Atlanta. Well worth the 7 hour flight. It was good to hang out with my Bro for a few days and get a chance to dance all night for 3 nights. The only disappointing thing was the fact that the party finish at 3am every night and there was no after party!!!</p> <p><a href="http://www.blog.co.uk/srv/media/media_item.php?item_ID=1699364" title="Magna"><img src="http://data4.blog.de/media/364/1699364_b62a382cac_m.jpeg" alt="Magna" vspace="5" hspace="5"></a><a href="http://www.blog.co.uk/srv/media/media_item.php?item_ID=1699365" title="Ade"><img src="http://data4.blog.de/media/365/1699365_cf422d023f_m.jpeg" alt="Ade" vspace="5" hspace="5"></a><a href="http://www.blog.co.uk/srv/media/media_item.php?item_ID=1699366" title="Ade"><img src="http://data4.blog.de/media/366/1699366_a4eeb88cbc_m.jpeg" alt="Ade" vspace="5" hspace="5"></a></p> <p><a href="http://www.blog.co.uk/srv/media/media_item.php?item_ID=1699396" title="with Steve"><img src="http://data4.blog.de/media/396/1699396_e7be0c35c4_m.jpeg" alt="with Steve" vspace="5" hspace="5"></a><a href="http://www.blog.co.uk/srv/media/media_item.php?item_ID=1699397" title="DC Cool"><img src="http://data4.blog.de/media/397/1699397_ccd473b34f_m.jpeg" alt="DC Cool" vspace="5" hspace="5"></a><a href="http://" title="Bongocero"><img src="http://data4.blog.de/media/398/1699398_f905d7116e_s.jpeg" alt="Bongocero" vspace="5" hspace="5"></a></p> <p> <small> <a href="http://jazzman.blog.co.uk/2007/06/17/this_is_dc~2468377/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>http://jazzman.blog.co.uk/2007/06/17/this_is_dc~2468377/Sun, 17 Jun 2007 14:13:08 +0200 <p><a href="http://www.blog.co.uk/srv/media/media_item.php?item_ID=1614497" title="Huangshan"><img src="http://data4.blog.de/media/497/1614497_434a4b8da0_m.jpeg" alt="Huangshan" vspace="5" hspace="5"></a><a href="http://www.blog.co.uk/srv/media/media_item.php?item_ID=1614499" title="Huangshan"><img src="http://data4.blog.de/media/499/1614499_3fa4ae14c7_m.jpeg" alt="Huangshan" vspace="5" hspace="5"></a><a href="http://www.blog.co.uk/srv/media/media_item.php?item_ID=1614502" title="Sunrise in Huangshan"><img src="http://data4.blog.de/media/502/1614502_593e73183e_m.jpeg" alt="Sunrise in Huangshan" vspace="5" hspace="5"></a>I have just returned from yet another visit to China and at this rate I will have all the provinces covered by 2010. The Highlight of this visit was my trip to the Huang Mountains - Haungshan - to give it it's proper name. Haungshan is in th Anhui Pronvince </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://jazzman.blog.co.uk/2007/05/22/huangshan~2316377/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>http://jazzman.blog.co.uk/2007/05/22/huangshan~2316377/Tue, 22 May 2007 20:35:42 +0200 <p>Bank Holidays? I am sure they serve some purposes, apart from providing me with yet another opportunity not to rise from my slumber til noon. I remember the days when they actually screen 'TV Premieres' and we all looked forward to watching some lame Hollywood blockbuster on TV four years after we forks out loads to see it at the cinema. No such luck these days. We've all seen todays blockbusters 2 weeks before it premiered in Leicester Square. Thank to the Chinaman on the Holloway Road whose has an ample supply of latest DVDs. Top quality too.</p> <p>Thankfully I have my iPod. </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://jazzman.blog.co.uk/2007/05/08/the_day_after~2236124/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>http://jazzman.blog.co.uk/2007/05/08/the_day_after~2236124/Tue, 08 May 2007 22:40:02 +0200 <p><a href="http://www.blog.co.uk/srv/media/media_item.php?item_ID=1309528" title="O & Mo"><img src="http://data2.blog.de/media/528/1309528_8091708ffe_s.jpeg" alt="O & Mo" vspace="5" hspace="5"></a><a href="http://www.blog.co.uk/srv/media/media_item.php?item_ID=1309530" title="Mo in Gothenburg"><img src="http://data2.blog.de/media/530/1309530_7861818c89_s.jpeg" alt="Mo in Gothenburg" vspace="5" hspace="5"></a><a href="http://www.blog.co.uk/srv/media/media_item.php?item_ID=1309535" title="Spinderellas"><img src="http://data2.blog.de/media/535/1309535_9e24d8a024_s.jpeg" alt="Spinderellas" vspace="5" hspace="5"></a> </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://jazzman.blog.co.uk/2007/04/07/scandinavian_salsa_congress~2050775/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>http://jazzman.blog.co.uk/2007/04/07/scandinavian_salsa_congress~2050775/Sat, 07 Apr 2007 19:39:52 +0200 <p>You know February has a funny way of creeping up on you. Every year it is the same, you finish the Christmas orgy, your brain slow gets use to the idea that it is back to work again, you stay in for a couple of weekends becuse you are skint and then BAM! Its February! And you still haven't got round to any of you New Year's resolution. Forgive me if you were born during the month of February but nothing ever happens in February. No elections, no royal weddings, no terrorist attacks or alerts, nothing. Nada. It is a month that is always in a hurry to get it over and done with. Most people get a cold in February (trust me, they do).</p> <p>"February was named after the Latin term februum, which means purification, via the purification ritual Februa held on February 15 in the old Roman calendar. January and February were the last two months to be added to the Roman calendar, since the Romans originally considered winter a monthless period"</p> <p>This from Wikipedia</p> <p>Frankly I wished it remained that way. Bears have the right idea, If I could I would hibernate until the clocks go back. But then I would miss Easter. Shame, another one of those religious holiday that most people in this have fogotten what it is all about. Then again, is it a pagan celebration?</p> <p>Now, question? If Christ can quite easily be born on the same day every year why is it that he can not resurrect on the same day every year? If only for the Easter egg industry</p> <p> <small> <a href="http://jazzman.blog.co.uk/2007/02/01/oh_one_oh_two_oh_seven~1664035/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>http://jazzman.blog.co.uk/2007/02/01/oh_one_oh_two_oh_seven~1664035/Thu, 01 Feb 2007 19:18:29 +0100 <p>Is it me or does it look pretty much the same as 2006, even 2005 maybe. Another one of these artificial milestones that we get into a lather about every year and the lather seems to be more significant than the milestone.</p> <p>New Years Resolutions? None!</p> <p>Apologies for the lack of blogs from China. Due to the earthquake of the coast of Taiwan, apparently a major cable laying on the ocean bed got severed and disrupted the internet in the whole of China. I simply could not blog. MSN was no use either.</p> <p><a href="http://www.blog.co.uk/srv/media/media_item.php?item_ID=1096187" title="Downtown Shaghai"><img src="http://data2.blog.de/media/187/1096187_6321cf1b91_s.jpeg" alt="Downtown Shaghai" vspace="5" hspace="5"></a><a href="http://www.blog.co.uk/srv/media/media_item.php?item_ID=1096190" title="Hangzhou"><img src="http://data2.blog.de/media/190/1096190_09082656af_s.jpeg" alt="Hangzhou" vspace="5" hspace="5"></a><a href="http://www.blog.co.uk/srv/media/media_item.php?item_ID=1096191" title="West Lake, Hangzhou"><img src="http://data2.blog.de/media/191/1096191_d08cf84f07_s.jpeg" alt="West Lake, Hangzhou" vspace="5" hspace="5"></a><a href="http://www.blog.co.uk/srv/media/media_item.php?item_ID=1096209" title="Jazzman"><img src="http://data2.blog.de/media/209/1096209_802f71c04b_s.jpeg" alt="Jazzman" vspace="5" hspace="5"></a><a href="http://www.blog.co.uk/srv/media/media_item.php?item_ID=1096210" title="Ling Yin Temple, Hangzhou"><img src="http://data2.blog.de/media/210/1096210_42c6bf4142_s.jpeg" alt="Ling Yin Temple, Hangzhou" vspace="5" hspace="5"></a><a href="http://www.blog.co.uk/srv/media/media_item.php?item_ID=1096211" title="Suzhou"><img src="http://data2.blog.de/media/211/1096211_63f50f0515_s.jpeg" alt="Suzhou" vspace="5" hspace="5"></a></p> <p> <small> <a href="http://jazzman.blog.co.uk/2007/01/13/so_this_is~1549150/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>http://jazzman.blog.co.uk/2007/01/13/so_this_is~1549150/Sat, 13 Jan 2007 12:21:09 +0100 <p>Its 530am and Anna Maria Jopek's crystal clear voice is singing sweetly in the background,the whiff of cheap chinese cigarettes fills my room and still I can't get no sleep. Outside, all is still save for a few nightowls on their bikes pedalling to god knows where at this ungodly hour. Earlier on this evening, I stepped off the lift onto the wrong floor only to be greeted by chinese carol singers in silly santa hats. So much from getting away from the christmas orgy. Unusaually for me I am sober on Christmas eve. I had a bit of a bender on my first night here and still suffering from the effects. That queasy feeling of alcohol swilling around in my half empty stomach. You'd think by now I'd know not to go out drinking on an empty stomach. But I needed a beer more than I did a meal, and now I live with the consequences.</p> <p>My room is pretty much a mess, with last nights clothes thrown everywhere, chinese yuan littering my table top and my ashtray half full of fag butts. Pretty digusting really. The only oasis of tidiness is my yet to be slept in bed which is still made up. I must turn some lights off and do my bit for the environment. I think I must have evey single light in my room on. Being in smog filled Shanghai makes you forget about saving the planet. All those empty taxis chasing each other in between the hordes on cyclists, motocylists, quad bikes, tricycles,etc trailing all those nasty fumes as they go. </p> <p>Its ten to six, only a few more minutes then I can go for breakfast. An assortment of grease, salt and sugar. You have a choice though; chinese or western. Which reminds me, coming through passport control at Pudong Airport you have two choices; Chinese Nationals or Foreigners. Apparently, so I am told, it used to be Chinese Nationals or Aliens. But since language does not stand still and no martian has yet seen fit to visit China, it had to be changed. I still think 'foreigners' is no more welcoming. Incidentally, I had the usaual five minutes scrutiny of my passport as I passed through passport control. This routine I am somewhat used to now. I can't wait to get a new passport when this one expires but with a colour photograph that will hopefully resemble me rather then the present one which could be anyone darker than Micheal Jackson.</p> <p>Its 6 on the dot and neither breakfast nor my bed has manged to allure me away from my tappping away on the silver keys of my laptop. Anna is still seranading away and getting more melancholy with every strain of her voice. My smoke filled rooom adds to the atmosphere.<br> I'll grab a shower and see if my appetite returns. Merry Christmas All <p><a href="http://www.blog.co.uk/srv/media/media_item.php?item_ID=1051326" title="Christmas Eve"><img src="http://data2.blog.de/media/326/1051326_3ad18a26ff_m.jpeg" alt="Christmas Eve" vspace="5" hspace="5"></a></p> <p>Christmas Eve party at Zapata's in Shanghai </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://jazzman.blog.co.uk/2006/12/24/christmas_in_china~1476412/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>http://jazzman.blog.co.uk/2006/12/24/christmas_in_china~1476412/Sun, 24 Dec 2006 23:12:36 +0100 <p>Despite the attempts of thick fog in London and one hour delay before take off, I have finally arrive back in buslting Shanghai to glorious and crazy taxi drivers. I have completely forgotten how hair raising the taxi ride from Pudong Airport to downtown Shanghai can be.</p> <p><a href="http://www.blog.co.uk/srv/media/media_item.php?item_ID=1051328" title="Downtown Shanghai"><img src="http://data2.blog.de/media/328/1051328_6321cf1b91_m.jpeg" alt="Downtown Shanghai" vspace="5" hspace="5"></a> </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://jazzman.blog.co.uk/2006/12/22/shanghai_revisited~1466999/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>http://jazzman.blog.co.uk/2006/12/22/shanghai_revisited~1466999/Fri, 22 Dec 2006 06:21:19 +0100 <p>Since I have not posted any pics for a while, I thought I ought to make amends. Admittedly I have not been snapping away as much as I normally do but as I wander around London during the day there is so much inspiration all year round. I love this City!</p> <p><a href="http://www.blog.co.uk/srv/media/media_item.php?item_ID=985975"><img src="http://data2.blog.de/media/975/985975_0eac085c3b_s.jpeg" alt="Falcon Wharf" title="Falcon Wharf" vspace="5" hspace="5"></a><a href="http://www.blog.co.uk/srv/media/media_item.php?item_ID=985976"><img src="http://data2.blog.de/media/976/985976_fbbd29866a_s.jpeg" alt="Albert Bridge" title="Albert Bridge" vspace="5" hspace="5"></a><a href="http://www.blog.co.uk/srv/media/media_item.php?item_ID=985977"><img src="http://data2.blog.de/media/977/985977_e973058607_s.jpeg" alt="The Ring" title="The Ring" vspace="5" hspace="5"></a><a href="http://www.blog.co.uk/srv/media/media_item.php?item_ID=985992"><img src="http://data2.blog.de/media/992/985992_935b39ed80_s.jpeg" alt="Hyde Park Corner" title="Hyde Park Corner" vspace="5" hspace="5"></a> </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://jazzman.blog.co.uk/2006/11/26/random_shots~1369375/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>http://jazzman.blog.co.uk/2006/11/26/random_shots~1369375/Sun, 26 Nov 2006 00:45:12 +0100 <p>Truth is, if I am not blogging, I am reading. If I am not reading, I am dancing. Somewhere in between all of that, I fit in work. Needless to say, there really isn't anytime to eat. Hence why I am as skinny as a rake - not that i can honestly say i can remember what a rake looks like. Incidentally all that dancing has the same effect.</p> <p>Today was one of that days when I leap out of bed at the crack of dawn, bursting with enthusiam and ready to grab the day but the scruff of the neck. Little did I know that the day just viewed all my enthuasiam with a knowing smirk and burst my bubble barely an hour into my day. Literally! I had a puncture, which ordinarily is not a big deal. An irritating annoyance but nothing more. afterall it wasn't raining and it was a mild morning. Unknowing to me, but as I soon found out, getting the puntured tyre off was going to be not that straight forward. Anti-theft lock nuts on wheel but no key to release it. Yep. You get the picture. After numerous calls to work and everyone asking the same annoying question "Have you looked in the glove compartment" Duh? Er..wouldn't that kind of defeat the object? I thought to myself trying to keep calm. Anyway 5hours later I rolled into work after watching the 'very very nice man' struggle to change my tyre with out actually taking gthe wheel off.</p> <p> <small> <a href="http://jazzman.blog.co.uk/2006/11/23/wot_no_blog~1362733/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>http://jazzman.blog.co.uk/2006/11/23/wot_no_blog~1362733/Thu, 23 Nov 2006 23:28:09 +0100 <p>It seems that these are emboldened times for those who have hitherto only been able to express their unPC views about multicultural Britain only within the confines of special clubs/pubs/boardrooms/gents walls with like minded 'sufferers' having to deal with the onslaught of the unwashed drabble from uncivilised parts of the globe descending on this or so quaint nation of ours. These hordes have interupted our daily tranquility of cricket, cucumber sandwhiches and afternoon teas. Gosh!</p> <p>Multicuturalism, they declare, has been an unmitigated disaster for Britain and ought to be rethought wholesale. How else does one explain Ali G? Assimilation is now been bandied about as if we are facing an imminent invasion of the Borg; Resistance is futile! And since Trevor Phillips, the chair of the Commision for Racial Equality, who is black (alledgedly) also veiws a rethink on multiculturalism is due; immunity from accusation of racism is now guaranteed. Isn't it?</p> <p>Lately, it seems that hardly a day goes by without yet another swipe at 'multicuturism' all happily spurred on by the current atmosphere of Islamophobia which is fast taking root in Europe and probably elsewhere in the western world. Asian are the new Blacks;Blacks are the new Indians; Indians are the new Whites. Whites are the new er...this is getting rather silly.</p> <p>Apparently it is not good enough for us to merely co-exist with the indigenous brits (not my expression) we now have to be assimilated wholehearted just as soon as the government sorts out what the definitive 'British Values' are. They are still locked in discussions with the Scots, Welsh and Irish. But I can tell you now, I am not wearing a kilt! Not with my legs. I no doubt have to dash out a get a copy of "British Values in a Nutshell" as soon as it hits the bookshops</p> <p>Presumably Trevor MacDonalds will be the template from African British and George Alagiah for British Asians. The Notting Hill Carnival will no doubt be deemed unhealthy to the well being of a cohesive assimilated nation as it encourages behaviour completely not in keeping with the soon to be released British Values Chater and it also encourages vernacular that is quite frankly improper ("So we go rum bum bu bum") not to mention inaccurate ("Feeling hot hot hot" In London on a Bank Holiday? Surely some mistake). </p> <p>Indian Restaurants will only be allowed to sell Chicken Tikka Massala as we all know it is really an British invention. Infact, Indian restaurants will be refered to as Chicken TM Restaurants so as not to encourage any excuse for multiculturalism. All other establishments that sell chow that is deemed 'multicultural' will be closed, even Nandos unless they eliminate all signs of their famous Peri-Peri sauce and stick to tomato ketchup will also get the chop. </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://jazzman.blog.co.uk/2006/09/21/multiculturalism~1145814/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>http://jazzman.blog.co.uk/2006/09/21/multiculturalism~1145814/Thu, 21 Sep 2006 00:34:53 +0200 <p>Okay, I have been ignoring my blog for a while now for no other reason than that work has become all consuming and ever demanding. Six months in and it does not seem to be getting any less demanding, easier but increasingly deamnding. My friends are beginning to notice!</p> <p>Needless to say my social life is beginning to suffer big time. No doubt my Salsa will too followed by my gym regime and as a consequence my fittnes. This, I can't allow to happen so time to stop the rot.</p> <p>This weekend I only did and hour of work and manged to get some reading in (Captive State - George Monbiot). I will have to admit to spending quite some time on the net looking at Google Videos and reading all the outlandish Consipracy Theories about 9/11.</p> <p>Okay, I gotta get back to my cooking.....laters taters </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://jazzman.blog.co.uk/2006/09/10/i_m_ba~1114419/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>http://jazzman.blog.co.uk/2006/09/10/i_m_ba~1114419/Sun, 10 Sep 2006 22:16:59 +0200 <p>...too exhausted to even blog </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://jazzman.blog.co.uk/2006/08/20/exhaustion~1053184/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>http://jazzman.blog.co.uk/2006/08/20/exhaustion~1053184/Sun, 20 Aug 2006 00:04:48 +0200 <p>It was a rather dull start to the week, I woke up at the crack of dawn and collected my thoughts over a cup of peppermint tea. As I walked to my car I remarked to myself how cold it felt this morning. I turned the heater on in the car for the first time in months. A quick glance at the dash board informed me the the temperature outside was a lowly 13 C. What happened to summer. The drive to work was unremarkably, I drove in silence opting not to listen to any music as I went through in my mind what needed to be discussed in the meeting later with my boss.</p> <p>My Boss and I spent nearly four hours shut away in the boardroom pouring over figures for the bid that was due for submission. This was only punctuated by the offers for cups of tea from another colleague and me introducing my boss to Google Earth. Alas, he could not located his house though. Thats what you get for living in the middle of nowhere.</p> <p>Lunch came and still I battled away at the spreadsheets, plugging firgures in here and there and squinting intensely at the flickering screen trying to makes sense of it all. My eyes were sore and I knew I had to dash out soon to go meet a client.</p> <p>Driving into town I kept checking the clock on the dashboard. I do hate to keep people waiting especially clients. The traffic was not heavy but when you think you are going to be late for a meeting the traffic is never light enough and you start to notice that there are way to many traffic lights in London. My client rang me to suggest we meet on site, she gave me a few landmarks to help me locate the building; I still missed it. I went round the roundabout (incidentally how come we can go round a square too?) and doubled back. I spotted my client waitng patiently and I thought "Shit! I've kept her waiting out in the cold". I did a left turn and looked for a parking spot. Yellow lines was all that greeted me. I pulled up on the paventment and parked on double yellows in my eagerness to meet my client, Ms I. Ms I, who works for the council warned me that parking on the pavement attracted an instant penalty. So I got back into the car and parked in a residents bay. I didn't think I'd be long any I could see the car from where we were to meet anyway.</p> <p>The meeting itself only lasted about 15 minutes. We descend into the basements of the building on the corner which was occupied by a firm of Solicitors. The bulding was crying out to be redecorated. The basement had given up. I was glad to get out back into the fresh air.</p> <p>I was making my recommendations to the client when she brought to my notice that I was about to receive a parking ticket."Shit" I thought "and it is only Monday". Now I glanced over and from where I was I could tell that the ticket had already been issued. Also, I thought that Ms I could probably get it recinded since she works for the Council. But something propelled me towards my car and before I knew it I wa sprintng towards my car to plead with the Traffic Warden.</p> <p>From here on everything seemed to have happen in slow motion. The moment I step off the kerb my sixth sennse said " You did not look both ways', But my seventh sense noticed the on coming traffic was queued at a red light and chances are the ones on my blind side were too. Keep in mind that this all happens in a matter of seconds. I think I must have been barely into my second stide when I got hit. I faintly remember hearing the car approach from behind me. I instinctively reached out behind me with my right hand without turning round as if to stop the the unseen vehicle dead in its tracks but at the same time I was swept of my feet, bounced onto the bonnet and thrown in the air. I landed on my right hip but I must have tried to break my fall with my outstetched right arm because the skin of my palm was grazed. My mobile phone and camera which were both in my left hand went spralling across the asphalt.</p> <p>Funny thing was I just got up, picked up my gadgets and dusted myself down. I looked around and there was a small crowd already formed, all bearing the same grief stricken expression. "What's the matter with these guys?' ws my instant thought. Ms I kept repeating my name and asking me if I was okay. She just found it incredible to believe I was. The poor driver of the VW Polo that hit me slowly got out of her vehicle and bore the same expression as the rest. She looked like she was in shock. I tried to reassure her that I was indeed okay but I don't think she heard me. One guy in the now growing crowd kept saying " I don't believe that you are even standing" Everyone kept insisting I went to to A&E. Even the Traffic Warden that issued me the ticket joined in the plea.</p> <p>Thankfully I only suffered a few superficial grazes but I have been told that I will feel it in the morning. On that not I'll go take some pain killer and get some kip.</p> <p> <small> <a href="http://jazzman.blog.co.uk/2006/08/15/polo_ed_down~1040264/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>http://jazzman.blog.co.uk/2006/08/15/polo_ed_down~1040264/Tue, 15 Aug 2006 02:11:17 +0200 <p>What a beautiful summer it has been so far in London! It is often been said that London is at its most beautiful when the sun shines gloriously, be it mid summer or mid winter. The streets are packed with sunlovers worshipping in the rays of happiness that seems to lift the mood of all. Streets become more animated with restauranteurs annexing every bit of pavements to allows diners to spill on to the streetsand the street into their establishments. A la Carte al fresco? Copious amounts of alcohol is ineveitably consumed as workers hurry to huddle outside their favourite watering den to quench that insatiable summer thirst.</p> <p><a href="http://www.blog.co.uk/srv/media/media_item.php?item_ID=727372"><img src="http://data2.blog.de/media/372/727372_325c8bd831_m.jpeg" align="" alt="Tower Bridge" title="Tower Bridge" vspace="5" hspace="5"></a></p> <p> <small> <a href="http://jazzman.blog.co.uk/2006/08/02/blogged_off~1009349/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>http://jazzman.blog.co.uk/2006/08/02/blogged_off~1009349/Wed, 02 Aug 2006 23:37:52 +0200 <p>We have nearly come the end of the group stage of the World Cup Tournament and I am beginning to look like the Endland team in the second half of a footballl match - knackered! It is not so much the footbal,l which has been at times exhilirating, that I find tiring. It is the commentating that drives me mad. The trotting out same overused cliches, experts trying to be commentators and commentators trying to be experts. At times, I am driven to watching some games with the TV sound turned right down especially when the commentating gets rather patronising towards some of the so called 'less favoured' nations. Words like 'plucky' get used or expression like 'but they are still smiling'.</p> <p>Then there is poor Ronaldo the much maligned Brazilian striker, it as if all the commentators having been living for this moment to absolutley lay into him. He has been called; fat, lazy, rolly-polly with all sort of 'fat' jokes aimed at him with grown men sniggering behind their microphes like naughty teenage boys caught pornograpy magazines behind the bike shed.</p> <p>Nonetheless I am glad the weekend is here so that I can indulge the soccer fest till my heart's content without trivial things like work getting in the way. I had long given up any semblance of a social life, unless you can call going down to the pub to wacth the footy on the big screen a social life.</p> <p>Today's pic is the back view of the main building of Goldsmiths College in south London. I visited it ealier today on business and had a walk round the grounds. It is a beautiful oasis of tranquility in the middle of New Cross in south east London. Lush and green with a perfectly trimmed lawn you could play snooker off. You just would not have guessed you were in New Cross. New Cross is one of those many areas dotted around London which stubborn refuse to be gentrified. Housing booms come and go but it still remains the same. I remember visiting it many many years ago when an ex-girlfriend of my lived their for a while and being constantly bemused by the amount of household appliances and furniture that littered the pavements. Fridges, sofas, washing machines, take you pick! You had to negotiate your way around discarded antiquated contraptions whenever you walk the pavements. That, I am glad to say has changed in New Cross, but not much else.</p> <p><a href="http://www.blog.co.uk/srv/media/media_item.php?item_ID=642985"><img src="http://data2.blog.de/media/985/642985_42aff1c1d3_m.jpeg" align="" alt="Goldsmith College" vspace="5" hspace="5"></a> </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://jazzman.blog.co.uk/2006/06/23/world_cup_fatigue~906163/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>http://jazzman.blog.co.uk/2006/06/23/world_cup_fatigue~906163/Fri, 23 Jun 2006 20:30:09 +0200 <p>And so the gluttony that is the Football World Cup 2006 begins and already I have watched 5 games in 2 days. As I type the Dutch players are shaking hands with their opponents, Serbia and Montenegro, on TV before my next instalment of my Football Feast. Work is likely to suffer, so I suspect will my social life and my eating habits. Thankfully, I don't have to get up in the middle of the night to watch crucial games as the tournament is being held in Germany.</p> <p>I should really be looking over some work before the start of the week, however all though it is laid out infront of me, I have one eye on the TV and my right foot flicks involuntarily as if kicking an imaginary ball every time Holland get into their opponent's penalty box. There is no doubt about whom I am supporting this afternoon.</p> <p>London at the moment is awash with beautiful bright sunshine with St George's flags of all sizes everywhere you look. I can't remember any previous world cup where there has been such an immense support for the England team. Everyone has seem to been bitten by the bug and you can't move for one world cup paraphenalia or the other. It is absolutely brilliant; if you love footbal. Not so, if you don't.</p> <p><a href="http://www.blog.co.uk/srv/media/media_item.php?item_ID=611142"><img src="http://data2.blog.de/media/142/611142_1b5d3d4bfa_m.jpeg" align="" alt="St Georges Flags" vspace="5" hspace="5"></a></p> <p>Woah! Holland have just scored! Holland 1 Serbia and Montenegro 0</p> <p>OK I have to concentrate on the game now........</p> <p> <small> <a href="http://jazzman.blog.co.uk/2006/06/11/summer_soccer~870040/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>http://jazzman.blog.co.uk/2006/06/11/summer_soccer~870040/Sun, 11 Jun 2006 14:20:07 +0200