Xanadu falling

The unusual situation of a gloriously sunny bank holiday is a good excuse to cycle along the Thames pathway from Abbey Wood to Greenwich. Of all the things in London, the river is the one that most consistently makes me glad I live here, and the route takes us right alongside the water for most of the journey.

We round the Greenwich peninsula, and circle the Millennium Dome. I thought at the time, and still do, that the building itself is an impressive looking structure, hamstrung by a lack of purpose. The problem with it always was that they built it and then wondered what to put in it, precisely the wrong way round to go about it. So it ended up filled with tawdry, empty baubles, and now sits forlorn, empty and surrounded by decay, a beacon of broken promises and disappointment, an apposite monument to Blair's government. I reflect on Tony Blair, the man who was so desperate to be liked by everybody, and who ended up being liked by nobody much at all.

The seaside! The seaside!

It's nice to get out, even for a few hours - especially on such a nice day as Saturday was. This is Whitstable. A stroll along the beach and proper fish and chips made for a restorative day. You can see more pictures here.

As a contrast, you can now download something rather more nocturnal - an mp3 of "Le tombeau de Feldman".

Oh, the weather outside is frightful... (2)

Ooh! Snow in winter! Who'd have thort it, eh?
Annoyingly, my trains seemed to run slightly better (or less shitly, to be more accurate) than normal. I can't even rely on the buggers to be unreliable.

it's already disappeared from W12, though patches of white still cling to the wild northern climes where I live. In Birmingham all the schools are closed again. Lucky sods, I'm sure it wouldn't have happened in my day.



The London Eye's gone all red. It's rather pretty, but disturbing as I suspect it to be a marketing gimmick to do with one the bearded twat Richard Branson's dodgy ventures.

Today seems to be Mad Fucker Day. I can't decide if it would be easier to have the lot of them carted off in a van, or just to have myself carted off. Surely if I got hold of a gun and went postal there's not a court in the land that would convict?