by the light of a magical moon

Tonight it's time for dinner on the beach.

Best to add in a pleasant sunset.

And maybe then watch the waves by the light of the moon.

moving further west

Today we had to say goodbye to the three hundred year old house we've been staying in and had to 'up sticks' further west across the island. We've been in a location with wonderful views both across the island and towards the Atlantic, so wondered what we'd find at the new spot.

Nothing to worry about.

We're now in a little cottage which has its own secret bay around the back and a marina at the front. Gorgeous views all around and only a three minute walk to the beach.

I can handle that for a few more days.

knowing pink means towards centre and blue means away

Travelling around the island is never dull. There's no hire cars for foreigners and most people use the diverse public transport options.

It's quite varied, from the little boat that can pick us up at the end of the golf course, to the super speedy catamaran that crosses from one side of the island to the other in about 20 minutes.

We've used all permutations, as well as the frequent buses, with their pink pole and blue pole bus stops (pink is towards the centre and blue is away).

Catch one mid-afternoon and see it progressively fill with lively school children in neat uniforms from the various schools, heading back to Hamilton, the capital.

Or pause in the same city, to watch the intriguingly futuristic police go by.

*shows busy status on outlook*

Anyone reading this blog over the last few days may think it was all about spending time sitting on beaches in the sunshine.

I'll have to upload some of the other pictures. In the meantime. Here's the current busy view.

rum swizzle

We've figured out the ways to get around now, using a fair amount of boats to get from place to place.

I'm not complaining, the slow pace seems just right for a few days away from work. I noticed when I eventually let the mac onto the wifi it started to download 800 emails.

Instead of attempting to read them, I'll follow Mark Twain's advice and regard here as the right place for a jaded man to simply 'loaf'.

a few days in a straw hat

We had hardly arrived when we were invited to a bit of a party by the pool. Actually the party was in full swing and we had to change gear from just off plane to sociable in a few moments.

Ice cold beer and food accompanied the hospitality, even if this early evening felt like some time after one o' clock in the morning.

By next day, things had readjusted, although at breakfast there were already sounds from a bicycle race passing the balcony, followed shortly afterwards by a half marathon. And did we know there was an all day festival in the town?

We decided to have a look. After all, it was celebrating the official start of Summer in this part of the world.

Only one thing for it.

Beach.

hey there, jet airliner

Bags packed. Ready to go. Standing here outside the door.

Heading for the other London Airport.

And just enough time to hit the lounge.

no cycling for a week

The sign says it. No cycling.

Not for me this week anyway, and only a few miles last week. Instead I was running around and being in meetings.

I'm not complaining, though, because I'll be going somewhere nice.

what colour ties can political presenters wear?

Now I'm puzzling about the television presenters' ties as fallout from the recent election coverage. There's been a general trend towards male presenters having purple ties during election coverage, so that it is neither red (Labour) nor blue (Conservative). Green is its own statement and orange and yellow (Liberal Democrat) are quite difficult to pull off. Only the quirky and high-end presenters seem to get to wear Jackson Pollock splattery-styled ties.

So purple became de rigueur during election coverage, until that extra party appeared and has taken the colour for its own logo and backgrounds.

Yesterday I saw one of the pundits wearing a kind of pink and black and white striped number.

This could all go a bit weird.

Other Desert Cities

We popped along to the Old Vic to see 'Other Desert Cities', which is just nearing the end of its run.

The Old Vic has been converted back to an 'in the round' seating again and looks good for it. Kevin Spacey has been the Artistic Director at the Old Vic for many years and as he bows out from the role, he will also be performing there again, as Clarence Darrow, the grisly crimes lawyer.

So what to make of Other Desert Cities?

It is set in Palm Springs, where novelist Brooke Wyeth is back home to spend Christmas with her wealthy parents. After a breakdown and writer's block she intends to publish a memoir about the family. There are inevitable repercussions.

The play has received good reviews everywhere, with a strong cast comprising Sinéad Cusack, Peter Egan, Clare Higgins, Daniel Lapaine and Martha Plimpton.

The writer Jon Robin Baitz, has mainly written for television and I sometimes wondered if this was written as one imagines a piece of 'proper' drama should be written, losing something as a result.

It was a kind of vehicle for debates about American politics and wealthy viewpoints flagged up to be challenged. A British version of something similar would probably have more of a study of manners than was apparent in this production. Admittedly there were some twists, but I found the 'big reveal' to be a tad predictable.

It was interesting to view, but somehow difficult to really feel for the situation in the way it was portrayed.

It's still good to be at the Old Vic and to see a production that isn't simply amongst the west end musicals.

clocking the view

Back in the smoke this week and with an interesting view from my evening accommodation. The large clock, at night from my bed, is like a distant alarm clock face.

It doesn't quite work as an alarm, however, because my room seems to have triple glazing, so the noise from the big clock's bell chiming is rather subdued. It means I'm still using my phone not just as a camera to take the photo, but also as my alarm clock.

punctures at the not quite paperless office

I've somehow managed to do all the things on my list for today, including packing a wheely-bag ready for another week on the road.

Last week's lightweight bag had a puncture on Friday. By that, I mean the little wheel's rubber tyre gave up. First it somehow split into two parts, creating a very efficient brake on just one side of the bag. I hauled it around like this for some time before I realised what had happened. Then I removed the tyre remnants, gaining black hands in the process and also noticing that the tyre from the other wheel was already missing. I'm suspecting a design fault. It doesn't look replaceable, unlike my other less lightweight luggage.

I've also filled two supermarket jute bags with paper that is to be shredded. Even my 50 page at a time shredder would have a problem with what amounts to two complete boxes of A4. That's around 5,000 sheets, I think.