foie-gras ice cream starters at the brewery

I left the safe comfort of the area around the Temporary Apartment this evening.

We had planned to dine in an Area of Possible Danger.

We'd arranged to meet in a converted brewery but I'd heard a few macabre jokes about the place before we arrived. Apparently it was close to the site of a recent double shooting and the area was being described as 'rough'.

I didn't have a clue where we were headed, but when we arrived the surroundings were bohemian renovationist rather than dilapidated.

You could tell quite a lot from the mainly well-heeled cars parked along both sides of the street. If it had been in London I wouldn't give it a particularly high 'alert' status.

We stepped into an 'in-crowdish' kind of place which served micro-brewed beers and food of the "foie-gras ice cream on single stick of toast starters" variety.

When we left, a couple of us decided it was safe enough to figure out how to walk home by the light of a fairly full moon.

the apoteket won't serve expresso

Tuesday's excursion from the Temporary Apartment was to a nearby small cafe called the Apoteket.

If I'd been in Holland I'd have thought twice before going to a coffee shop with this type of name, but we were elsewhere and the inside seemed fairly snug with plenty of crowded tables and people chatting.

Our well behaved mixed nationality group were handed English menus and we soon picked items to eat, but in some cases with requests for modifications. This was quite interesting, because there was a fairly stern 'No' from the waitress who was pretty keen to keep things orderly and in line with the menu's serving suggestions.

I smiled when this occured with the later coffees also; I'd asked for an expresso but it was explained that they had coffee - regular coffee - with or without milk.

OK.

I get lost and then blackberry latitude saves the day

A short walk from the Temporary Apartment today, after I'd returned from a meeting across town.

It was one of those occasions where I'd given the address to a taxi driver and had a feeling that I might be being taken in the wrong direction. Its like the London equivalent of Finsbury Park and Finsbury Square.

I'm fairly used to these little misunderstandings in certain foreign taxis and have some interesting reference journeys as well as improved renegotiation skills.

There's the time we were around Istanbul with a clearly lost taxi driver and improvised a Sat Nav on a laptop to find our location and the direction. That was before his taxi broke down on the bridge into Asia and we had to explain what we were doing to some armed soldiers.

Or the time in Riyadh when the taxi driver just kept saying 'Yes' but clearly didn't understand anything we were saying let alone knowing the way to the American Express office.

How things move on; on this occasion I could simply switch on my Blackberry, flip to Google Maps, show where we were and then point to the place I was supposed to be heading.

"Ah", said the taxi driver, with his own two separate sat-nav systems (one with the taxi system and another built into the Merc) as he recognised the location from my finger pointing, whilst being unable to recognise it from my handwritten address(kerching?).

I really should do something about my handwriting.

Sent from a handheld device.

are chocolate frogs endangered species?

I tried bringing some of those chocolate frogs back to the UK, but the Belgian 70% cocoa chocolate and the Brazilian liqueur filling seems to be too much for some people.

These are the only survivors from a box originally containing a dozen.

small guide for discerning cup-cakers

I've tested cup cakes in Magnolia's on Bleeker and also Primrose's in Covent Garden and now I'm starting to sense the march of American variants throughout the United Kingdom. I gather Marks and Spencer is about to start stocking the American type.

I thought it useful to publish a definitive guide before we all forget what British cup-cakes were like.

My view is illustrated above.

The British cup-cake was really a 'fairy-cake' made from victoria sponge with a dab of water based icing and something on top. A high sponge to icing ratio.

Chocolate cup-cakes were a factory made flat-top usually of chocolate, lemon or orange and undecorated. Crunchy hard icing edges.

Children's parties would feature Angel cakes, often partially made by the children, where the top of the cake was cut off, divided in two and then fashoned into wings, stuck on with butter icing.

And now - Thunk - the American variant.

Equal cake to icing ratio. Luminous colors(sp). Much topping to augment the icing part. Extended waistline because they are usually baked in American muffin cases rather than the smaller (UK) cup-cake sized holders.

I sense an invasion.

And in a related confession, I do like Cinnabon (in small quantities), which is another invader which used to only be available in the USA but has stealthily crept into Britain.

cover up

Back in the UK.

Zoe has sent the updated cover to the publishers.

I really need to spend some time reviewing the proof this weekend.

a mermaid, a shiny city and a low star

Three small marvels in one day.

The first, in the morning at the Temporary Apartment, is the faint singing sound that comes from part of the room. A high-pitched modulation which I can't quite locate. I've decided to consider it to be the song from a not-too-distant mermaid.

The second, in the early evening, slipping through clear skies over London at 500 miles per hour, banking to see all of London spread before me and a feeling that I could hold the whole golden glittering city in the palm of my hand.

The third, as I headed home and looked to the now inky sky, was a bright extra star, sparkling low and near. The space station shining as the brightest object just 200 miles above and speeding across the night.

sent from a handheld device

watching Gefjun plough a legendary field

I took a short walk from the Temporary Apartment today, following the footsteps of Ragnarsdrápa, which tells of when Gylfi promised Gefjun all the territory she could plough in a single night.

The story runs that she turned her four sons into oxen, and the land they ploughed out of the earth was then thrown into the sea and became a big new island- the one my Temporary Aprtment is on. The hole created where the land had been previously became a great lake called Lögrinn.

I've just been walking across part of the island to where the great fountain depicts the story, showing Gefjun at work. There's an inscription something like "Ærr ertu, Loki, ok örviti, er þú fær þér Gefjun at gremi, því at aldar örlög hygg ek, at hon öll of viti jafngörla sem ek. (Watch out - Loki, you'd be mad to mess with Gefjun - she'll set the fate of all of us)

sent from a handheld device

i discover the shop has an intrinsic field subtractor

Laying here in the Temporary Apartment, I'd almost decided that it was time to stop writing about The Nearby Shop That Never Opens.

That was before I realized the awful truth. I think the shop has some sort of intrinsic field subtractor playing with reality.

Here's today's example. I walked to the shop and examined the doors.

Lights off at peak time, all closed, so no surprises.

But what was strange was that behind the glass of the doors I could see new boxes upon boxes of pristine brightly coloured flowers. Tulips, daffodils and similar varieties. The kind that people would want to buy and put into Temporary Apartments. These flowers were completely blocking the doors making it even more difficult to get in.

Of course, the shop was still closed in any case.

And then, as I was about to walk away, I nearly froze in my tracks.

I'd inadvertently glanced towards the corner where I'd originally discovered the chocolate frogs. I didn't previously explain, but there were industrial quantities of these shiny frogs in boxes piled to the ceiling. Different brands and different flavours. Dark chocolate, milk chocolate, liqueurs and fruit fillings. An impossibly inedible large quantity.

But this is the strange part. In two or three days, they have all gone. Who consumes such quantities of chocolate frog? What demographic? How can there be such a quantity of purchases from a store which is mainly closed?

It makes no sense unless an alien force is at work.

I will wait until tomorrow to see whether an intrinsic field subtractor has similarly affected the tulips.

sent from a handheld device

I am visited at the Temporary Apartment by an out of town friend

The Temporary Apartment was extremely useful today, when I received an email from a friend in a nearby country who said he could pop over for dinner this evening.

He lives around an hour from here and arranged his schedule to be able to arrive at my temporary front door this evening at around 19:30.

We then headed to a nearby restaurant advertising Australian Cuisine, and selected a light supper whilst we swapped stories from our recent exploits. He had even noticed TNSTNO without any prompting from me and commented that he knew this type of shop had certain reputations.

I offered him a chocolate frog before he picked up his car to start the car and ferry ride back to his own home.

sent from a handheld device

back in the Temporary Apartment

A pretty smooth run back to the Temporary Apartment, with renewed clothes and some supplies based upon last week's learnings.

I'm pretty sure I'll need to find a way into The Nearby Shop That Never Opens again this week, but I smiled as I arrived to see it at security level 4 in total darkness.

It seemed slightly loopy to have brought certain supplies from Sainsbury's in the UK, but now I think I was right.

sent from a handheld device

airport ipod tunes for Sunday

Listening to my iPod at the airport.

Hey, remember the time when I found a human tooth down on Delancey? Hey, remember that time we decided to kiss anywhere except the mouth? Hey, remember that time when my favorite colors were pink and green? Hey, remember that month when I only ate boxes of tangerines? So cheap and jooo-cy.

Tangerines.

Hey, remember that time when I would only read Shakespeare? Hey, remember that other time when I would only read the backs of cereal boxes? Hey, remember that time I tried to save a pigeon with a broken wing? A street cat got him by morning and I had to bury pieces of his body in my building's playground. I thought I was going to be sick.

I thought I was going to be sick.

Hey, remember that time when I would only smoke Parliaments? Hey, remember that time when I would only smoke Marlboros? Hey, remember that time when I would only smoke Camels? Hey, remember that time when I was broke. I didn't care I just bummed from my friends.

Bum, bum, bum, bum, bum...

Hey, remember that time when you OD-ed? Hey, remember that other time when you OD-ed for the second time? Well, in the waiting room, while waiting for news of you, I hallucinated I could read your mind. And I was on a lot of stuff too, but what I saw, man, I tell you it was

freaky, freaky.

Thanks Regina.