» It was a great holiday, but...

it was a shite holiday
Majorca, 1997. Me and the bird have a couple of weeks between contracts and a bit of cash, so find a last minute deal for a few days in the sun in Puerto Pollensa, north of the island. Not that fkng original, but there you go.

Three days into the holiday I run out of smoking materials and get a bit antsy. needing something to do, I hire a bike and proceed to cycle to the top of Cap Formentor, a great lump of rock above the village with an old fort on top of it. Lovely ride up, winding passes, looks like the end of the Italian job except a bit dustier.

My first attempt takes me nearly an hour, complete with busloads of assorted elderly Europeans laughing at me trying to ride a road pass on a mountain bike. Fk em. Becoming slightly obsessed, I resolve to do it every late afternoon and sure enough my time comes down a good deal, I'm quite happy.

About a week or so in, the bird asks to come with me one day. Sure, i'll take it slow. we hire a bike for her, get up to the top of the hill, no problem.

The problem comes on the downhill. A pretty inexperienced cyclist, she gets spooked by a lorry overtaking crazily on a downward bend. The air movement causes her cap to fly off her head. Panicked, she pulls the wrong brake lever. And proceeds to go over the handlebars at full pelt, landing on her face and skidding to a halt underneath a crash barrier. Fortunately, she stopped before going over the edge and a 200ft or so sheer drop.

I can't for the life of me remember how I got her down off the hill. She was in a terrible state. I do remember I was very proud of her. And I remember taking her to the doctor, £200 of emegency dental work (she lost a front tooth and scraped a couple of others. And i remember eating out several times in the village square, with every b*stard looking at me thinking 'He's given her a right doing'.

And I remember an itchy feeling a couple of months later, a mole changing colour and texture, going to the doctor and being diagnosed with malignant melanoma, which had to be cut out leaving me with permanent, if interesting, scarring. Stay coverd up, kids, that's all I'm saying.

Apart from that, seriously, it was a great holiday . . .
(Fri 22nd Apr 2005, 16:25, More)

» I just don't get it

There are known knowns, and known unknowns, and
Why people kill each other for oil. Surely it's easier and more moral to reduce consumption?

Why people drive cars on their own in cities when vans are better for carrying loads, bikes are faster, cheaper, more relaxing, less frustrating, more sociable, and better for the user and the planet.

Racism and homophobia.

Why we trust politicians to lead us and act on our behalf.

Why electricity doesn't fall out of the wall when you switch on a socket with no plug in it. In fact, pretty much everything about electricity.

Why shuffleboard isn't a universal pub sport, and baseball remains largely confined to North America.

Come to think about it, why they still prefer American Football to real football.

Why we don't all act as if we're going to die tomorrow, which we - relatively speaking - are. Life should be a joyous, fully lived, shared positive experience.

Why I'm bothering to do this when I've got jobs on.

Why my fkng speakers aren't working - I've checked the drivers, the codec, even the volume knob.

Why alarm clocks and bombs go 'off' - surely they go 'on'?

And why the fk does the tax year begin / end on April 5th? What's wrong with January 1 / Dec 31?
(Wed 6th Apr 2005, 19:25, More)

» Walkman Flashbacks

Tunes of Glory
Hola. This question's way too big, but it's brought back so many good memories, so . . . thanks.

Funkytown, Lipps Inc - feeling nauseous on the big wheel at Aboyne Highland games, wondering how far I would vomit from the top. Spoiled many a good disco night since, that. I was about 8, I think.

The Downtown Lights by the Blue Nile, and anything off Sinatra and Nat King Cole's 20 Golden Greats albums - working in a nice hotel restaurant, the different smells of the different shifts, finishing off good wines at the end of the dinner shift and chatting until near the start of the breakfast one.

Peggy Suicide, Julian Cope - working on oil rigs. Street Tuff, Double Trouble and the Rebel MC - sunny afternoons in a pub in Cromarty on an unusual couple of trips where instead of being in the middle of the North Sea we were anchored in the firth, finishing shifts at noon and taking a boat in for a daily pool'n'pints session in the middle of summer. Great days, fairly poor jukebox.

Nightswimming and the untitled track at the end of 'Green', REM - waking from a doze on an overnight Greyhound bus between Ohio and Boston in late Autumn '92, 7.30ish, beautiful forests dappling morning sunlight on my eyelids as we moved. Should have been The Fall, really.

Waterfall by Atlantic Ocean and Krupa by Apollo 440 – top nights in various clubs in Glasgow, often the Arches, often off my tits. And driving to and from a total contrast camping night in the same period, on the rocks at Mallaig with two great friends, lapping waves, stars, wee fire, bottle of decent whisky, tremendous conversation. Very civilised, very lovely.

All of Leftism by Leftfield reminds me of fantastic sex with my wonderful wife. I think I may want to be buried or burned with that on the chip we'll hopefully be implanting by then.

Rock of my Soul by Rodney Crowell and For Pete's Sake by the Monkees - children making 'requests' from the back seat of the car. Mate burned a great compilation CD which they love. They used to be our sperm and eggs, all of a sudden they're telling me to put off Frank because they prefer the Bowie track. Kids, eh? Pesky.

Sorry for the length, I could go on forever. Great question but way too big. Ting, repetition.
(Tue 29th Mar 2005, 10:10, More)