We spent four days navigating the beautiful river-cum-canal Kennet and Avon Canal. Back in the olden days, it trimmed some 450 miles from the hazardous London-to-Bristol sea route. Today, it’s just a beautiful stretch of greenery that runs from Reading, through Newbury and Bath and terminates at the sea near Bristol. This was also the first time that I’ve been on a British canal and it hasn’t been grey and/or rainy for the entire trip — it was a bit weird, sitting on top of the boat, basking in warm sun, in England.

Anyway, I took some pretty photos. Not as pretty as I’d hoped — grey skies plagued two of the three evenings — but definitely worth sharing. Here they are:

Shot just before another photo, which is probably more striking

Moooo

(Did I mention that I’d forgotten to shave?)

* * *

I went shopping yesterday, for smart trousers, shirts and shoes. I ended up buying a very nice pair of boots, a couple of very smart pairs of trousers and a nice shirt. I figure I ought to at least try and look sharp in San Francisco. Of course, I bet I’ll arrive, looking all sharp and preppy, and they’ll all be dressed in shorts and a t-shirt. Still, better to over-dress than to under-dress, right?!

[Post link: I am not designed for boats that are narrower than I am long]

Related posts:

1. Busy busy busy… boats boats boats
2. Forgive me… for I have dribbled
3. Bonus photos. Possibly not safe for work. Or those of a sensitive disposition.

For the last few months I’ve been trying to troubleshoot my sleeping problems. Looking through the archives, it seems I first reported trouble sleeping over a year ago — yikes! — and then a few months ago I alluded to some continuing issues. I think things have been improving, but I’ll be damned if I can attribute that to any one change! I’ve been exercising regularly (cycling for a few miles every day), and of course I’ve travelled quite a lot this year which has given my mind the SPACE it needs. It’s amazing: the moment I leave my room (which is usually only when I travel), my composure completely changes. I don’t think I’m particularly highly-strung at the worst of times, but when I travel I’m positively mellow.

So, anyway, the bedding! First I got a fancy 400-thread Egyptian cotton bed sheet and a nice protector to go under it. That didn’t help much (though it does feel really good to slide up and down against), so I got new pillows and covers. They helped a bit. Then earlier this week my newest (and most expensive, eep!) purchases arrived: a Hungarian goose down duvet, and a 400-thread Egyptian cotton duvet cover. Today I spent a few minutes re-making my bed — and as you can see from the creases, I am yet to lay on it! I’m looking forward to tonight, that’s for sure.

You’re all invited to come and try out my new bedding, incidentally! Come! There’s plenty of space.

* * *

In other news, it looks like I’ll be in San Francisco in the middle of September. Microsoft is flying me out there for a software launch event! From what I can tell, official business will only last for a day, which means I should be able to spend a few days exploring San Francisco. Do any Angelenos want to come up and see me?! I doubt I’ll make it down to LA unless I can squeeze a whole week out of the trip.

* * *

Photography-wise, I’m glad to say that my exhibition of photos from the Faroe Islands went well. I also sold a few photos from Norway! At last!

I updated my Montenegro gallery, so you can now buy those too. The gallery on this site is actually the most complete collection — Flickr is still missing a few, which I will update in the next few days.

I think that’s all for now…!

[Post link: At last! My new bedding is COMPLETE!]

Related posts:

1. This month, on Seb’s blog…
2. I added some more photos!
3. I am not designed for boats that are narrower than I am long

Today, with 26 glorious and fun-packed years behind me, I was told that I look younger than a friend who is actually a year younger than me.

My response really, really surprised me. I actually beamed! I preened! I flicked my frickin’ hair!

It wasn’t like I was being paid a compliment either — they were just making a fleeting comparison. ‘Who’s older, you or him?’-  ’Me’ - Oh, you look younger than him…’

I can’t believe I responded so strongly… perhaps I am more vain than I thought… or maybe I really am worried about growing old…

Posted via email from thoughts on things

[Post link: I just preened at being told I look younger than I actually am… this is a first…]

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Zoom in on a little, diesel Volkswagen, buzzing and sputtering across the sparse, orange Croatian scrub. It’s a taxi, though there are no signs or licenses or anything like that. Thinking back, I probably shouldn’t have entrusted my life to a man with only a fistful of teeth, a vibrating dashboard and no taxi-driving license. But still, when you have to catch a flight, what are your options?

So, there we are, bouncing quickly across a rough Croatian road. It’s safe to say that the Croatians don’t look after their roads as well as their Montenegrin brethren. The road was hazardous — you know, the kind where your car can jump left or right into the ditch if you don’t keep a firm grip of the wheel — which wouldn’t normally have been a problem, but unfortunately the taxi driver was a SHOUTER and GESTICULATOR. Seriously, what were the odds? Not only was my taxi falling apart, but every time the taxi driver spoke he turned his head, leaned close so that his lips were only a few inches from my ear, lifted one hand off the steering wheel and BELLOWED into my EAR.

He didn’t even speak English! I thought speaking slowly… and… loudly… was a British… tourist… thing… but no! So he’s shouting Montenegrin into my ear. I’m keeping my eyes on the road, my hand within striking distance of the wheel or handbrake. From my limited grasp of the language, I can tell he’s talking about Montenegro (Crna Gora), about how he’s proud of his nation. “CRNA GORA!” he shouts and I can feel spittle landing on my earlobe. He makes a kind of wobbling gesture with his hand, accompanied by whooshing noises. “Airplane?” – “Da! AIRPLANE!” – “Crna Gora…exports?” — “DA! DA! EXPORTS!”

At this point, he takes both hands off the steering wheel. I don’t know if the car stuck to the road by magic, or whether it just happened all too quickly for anything bad to happen. He starts counting on one hand, while gesticulating Montenegro’s main exports with the other.

“VINO!”, a finger up on one hand, and a swigging motion with the other.

“MASLINOVO ULJE!”, another finger up, and a sprinkling motion with the other.

“PIČKA!”, whereupon he balls both hands into fists and makes a monumental thrusting motion with his hips. The car veers quickly to the left and I, with protean dexterity, grab the steering wheel. He doesn’t even say thank you, just nods and smiles.

So there you have it, the three main exports of Montenegro, according to a crazy taxi driver are wine, olive oil and pussy.

[Post link: Montenegrin exports]

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1. Exploring the cave of Karain, or how I almost met my maker
2. Notes from the small islands: hot rods and tunnels…
3. No farmer’s daughter. No dog to lick my toes. Can’t complain though…

I’ll post a lot more photos once I’m back in England, on Tuesday. If you want to see more, visit Flickr. You can’t buy these photos just yet, but I’ll fix that when I get home.

[Post link: A few photos of Montenegro]

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Recuperate & Bay of Kotor

Abi: Ah! another 52 Weeks in which Abi and Sebastian are thrown off kilter because one of them is travelling. When I think about this project and all its similarities and contrasts, I am always amazed we managed to keep it going the way we do. Every Sunday, we upload our respective images in readiness for the following day, regardless of where we happen to be. It’s part of my week and it’s pretty weird to think it’s almost over. I think I’ll miss it.

I am not the best at convalescing. It’s not so much that I am unused to downtime, more that even during those periods of rest I am quite often occupied. When events force you back to bed and you are quite unable to stay awake it is pretty frustrating. All you can do is just lie there, re read as many novels as you can and watch crap TV until the whole sorry episode is over.

I’m not even kidding, whilst Seb is away taking spectacular photos I haven’t really ventured much further than this.

* * *

Seb: It’s not hard to see why the Bay of Kotor (it’s a fjord really! or ’submerged river canyon’, apparently) is a UNESCO World Heritage site.

The last week has been unrelentingly hot, with temperatures reaching over 40C and humidity stubbornly sitting at around 100%. Even at night it’s about 25C. To say that my stay here has been merely ’sticky’ would be a vast understatement.

Still, where there is tropical heat, there is ultimately a tropical storm — and that’s what you can see here. The rain front is on the right (the dark grey fog by the mountain), and about 30 seconds later the heavens opened and soaked both me and the camera.

But I got the shot!

* * *

Click either photo to see a smaller version on Flickr!

[Post link: 48 of 52]

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1. A few photos of Montenegro
2. 49 of 52
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He even told me how to deal with the hornet, once I’d caught it. ‘Freeze it’ he said. ‘Just pop it in the freezer for a few hours and then send it over.’

And so I did. Two weeks had passed, but last night a hornet flew into my room — and I flew into action! I cowered behind my door, biding my time, as always (I’ve been bitten by hornets before). Eventually he settled down on the woodwork of my sash windows and KABLAM! I struck, catching it ‘neath a cup. Then I murdered the poor bastard by putting him in the freezer. It was actually the first time I’ve intentionally killed an insect. I felt rotten.

Why though? Why did some guy want one of my hornets?

To draw it! He’s a frickin’ artist and an incredibly talented one at that. He likes insects (and collects and rears insects!) — and who am I to deny him one of my many hornets?

I killed, but it was in the name of art! Worse things have been done for creative ends.

* * *

I fly off to Montenegro on Wednesday. I’m aware that I still haven’t written much about it. It’s very hot and humid in England right now, and typing with sweaty fingers is horrible and laborious. But, yeah, Montenegro is actually a vacation for me. I will take some photos, but the primary purpose for this trip is to relax. It’s hard to describe just how mentally exhausting my current lifestyle is. I need to unplug for just a little while.

[Post link: This morning I sent bug boy a frozen hornet in the post]

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2. Squeamish types turn away now
3. A few photos of Montenegro

Posted via email from thoughts on things

[Post link: Elif Shafak: The politics of fiction]

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I figured lots of you might not have seen the project, or even heard of it, and the year is almost at an end! Ach, time goes by so quickly…

Also, you will notice the side bar change when you’re looking at a 52 Weeks entry. That’s kind of by design, and kind of because I can’t work out how to disable it gracefully…

P.S. I’m flying to Montenegro next week! I should write some more about that.

[Post link: 52 Weeks, update]

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1. A fun new photo project: 52 Weeks
2. At last! My new bedding is COMPLETE!
3. Just a little update (and pretty photos, of course)

Posted via email from thoughts on things

[Post link: Paul Romer’s radical idea: Charter cities]

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1. I had this great idea for a competition…
2. I just preened at being told I look younger than I actually am… this is a first…
3. Elif Shafak: The politics of fiction