The New Curiosity Shop

When I wander the back lanes and ally's of my particular part of London I am oft surprised by what people chuck out. It's not like where I used to live you see. Back on the farm, if you had some rubbish you assessed it for scrap or bonfire. Scrap to the local recycler. Bonfire rubbish to the pile behind the house.

I guess that in Inner London bonfires are discouraged. I certainly don't seem to have seen any in the year and a half that I have been here.... I expect there are good reasons.
Funny how you miss the smell of woodsmoke.

Digression though.
As you walk along the streets here there is always a huge amount of junk. A lot of it generated by the transient population. There are so many curiously stained mattresses in front yards and against partition walls that I have considered a separate category for them on a photo graphic website. Perhaps a group on Facebook. Maybe not.....

Mattresses, beds, cupboards, chairs, sofas, white goods of every facet, carpets..... round here it all all gets dumped on the street and then seems to disappear either by degrees or a few days later.
Lots of it looks useful to me. Sort of a low tech shopping experience without the need for money to change hands.
For instance I can see that piece of bed frame being useful to repair the fence. All over North Wales, beds are used to fix holes in fences and walls. Round here they get chucked away....
Maybe I could start an export business.
Down near Thurrock there is a site, hundreds of acres, where this kind of stuff is rolled and shoved by heavy tracked vehicles. In time to come, once it is high enough above the prospect of a flood I expect it will form the base layer of desirable riverside properties. After all where there is muck there's always money.

And so I wander back to the particular bit of jetsam that I found in the back alley the other day.
I found an oil painting. In an interesting frame.
I like it for what it is. It may not to all tastes but I like it.

With any signed painting I would guess that curiosity would get the better of one eventually though. I looked up Robert Cox Artist on the interwebby thing. How curious.

Much About Nothing

Provided that you leave the TV behind and keep your ears open there is lot to do here.
Oh I know that some of you will already have sniggered, I am in one of the biggest and certainly most exciting cities in the world. There is a lot to do… well Duh!
But you know what, I keep doing stuff and then talking to people who have lived here all their lives and not done those very things. Often for free.

In my life in North Wales one of the standing amusements was that all the tourists went up Snowdon, our highest mountain. All the locals meant to get round to it some day

London is the same it seems. Having changed so very much of the way that I and my extended family (Forgeron, The Boy Professor, MediaMan, Asbo, and The Black Cat) live, it seems silly to swap the location just to watch old episodes of Star Trek.
Coming to the city I wanted guns in the night, sirens, air traffic, the rush hour, a mixed community, fast food, and twenty four hour supermarkets. I also wanted to pick up the news and think…. “Yes tomorrow I am going to do that!”
And by and large dear reader, I have done just that.

The Paralympics courtesy of my friend Gamesmaker. The closing fireworks quite the most spectacular that I have ever seen. Notting Hill Canival. Endless festivals associated with religions which seem to have nothing to do with church or chapel. Bermondseys free pyrotechnics in November. The remembrance at the Cenotaph. Christmas shopping in a million lights. Various new years. Bike trips that seem extravagant until you realize it is flat in every direction here. Snow all over the famous landmarks. Protest marches, An opening night. Museums of childhood and anew. Galleries. Visitors. I have been clubbing in Camden and seen the Stones on their second visit to Hyde Park. Eaten and drunken (??) in some gorgeous spaces, markets, and pubs. Gotten to know the East End a little better. Shared some good time with my brother, though sadly less with my sisters. Listened to ‘Clue’ on Mornington Crescent. Found wild place for John Muir. I have had auditory hallucinations of geese which turned out to be true. I went to the Queens birthday party. Marched with pride. Watched some fine parades. Stood at the top of the highest tower. I became a member of the Baker Street irregulars and took a picture of a solar flare. Managed to squeeze some work in as well. This list goes on and on of course….

And I was outside the gate at the birth of the golden child who will one day be king.

All this and I have to leave out the fact that Forgeron and I shared Paris.
Also many visits to darkest Hereford.

I hope I can pick up some of these and share them with you as the next year sneaks by…

Wagons South

The capital city allowance and the promotion to Grand Poobah gave an apparent boost to the Hallett coffer I have to agree. Nonetheless, aspects of moving needed careful financial consideration.

Several friends who were at first enthusiastic about moving to a remote mountainside for a few years later found themselves challenged (quite rightly) by aspects of the isolated nature of Hallett’s Mountain.
My vision of finding it a doddle to rent out dwindled.

The transient nature of the population of East London also had an impact. My early advert for a room with a view there met with a terrific response, but when I made it clear that I was looking for a place in three to four months time I was regarded with amusement at best and probably as a time waster. It seemed that, unlike the protracted negotiation towards tenancy in North Wales, flats near where I was going to work were on the market in the morning and snapped up by lunchtime.

I flirted briefly with a newspaper, who agreed that my offer of a house swap for two or three years would be of interest to its readers. I even wondered about selling up but was not ready for this yet.

Eventually though I was able to agree with a friend from my old workplace who was pleased with an escape from the madding crowd. In addition, a visit to the city resulted in the fortunate coincidence of a flat on its way to advert, free for two hours, at the time I was there.

By the end the last week of August I had everything I needed wrapped up in a spotted handkerchief, a sturdy stick in hand, and a pantechnicon (yay a non Microsoft word! 1-0) stuffed to the very gills in close pursuit. I set off for the streets paved with gold, a sentiment which of course if it were realised would have solved the problems noted.

Yet another economic migrant in the already busy streets.

A Year In Hallett's London

Looking at some photos the other day I was taken to discover that a time has truly galloped by.
In the first week of August 2012 I came to East London to look for a place to live. This on the back of a new job which has taken me away from the mountains.

With the help of ‘La Forgeron’ I was delighted to get a four room, ground floor flat with its own rectangle of garden, and a garage as well.
My kitchen, bathroom, bedroom, and sitting room have served well since. A base for explorations and a retreat from the world. The rent at the top end of extravagant for my meagre pocket but 'you only live twice'. How many of you, dear readers, can complete that quote without the aid of Google I wonder?

My adventure started back just before the Easter of that year. Sitting comfortable in my mountain farm, with a job I enjoyed, and a lifestyle the envy of many from where I am now. I noticed a job advert and before I knew it, Pandoras Box was opened.

Forgeron was off to University, The Boy there already, and my need for travel in foreign lands was pricking at the heels. Second advertisement it said. Head teacher. Just the job that I have been avoiding looking for…..

I agonized and rationalized for days…. No I didn’t! From the second that I saw the post I knew it had my name writ large upon it and the world was going to have to fit. The Great Moo Moo (who occasionally appears to me from slices of toast) had already cast the die.

I called by via the funeral of a friend of over forty years to see the office chair and nod to the outgoing occupant.

On Thursday I decided to apply. On Friday I sent the application. Monday I was shortlisted for an interview on Tuesday. As I drove back to North Wales I pulled over to stretch my legs and get fuel for the car, I took the call, paused for breath and said yes.
The guy on the other end breathed a sigh of relief.

And so everything was about to change.