Nothing to do with Charlize Theron or Bob Dylan.

Location: Norwich, United Kingdom

Keep on Truckin'.

Sunday, March 26, 2006

Now Touring the UK

This week I embarked on a veritable tour of two of my favourite places: Liverpool and Southwold. Not that from past experience they should be my favourite places, for Southwold is beautiful but turned my demi-cold into something much more ugly and sinister with a lot more goo, and Liverpool only ever taught me two things: not to stare at a scally in a partially blacked-out Honda at a petrol station, and to never choose to sleep in my brother’s bed rather than on the floor.

This week’s sojourn was intended to be far more wholesome however, since it was with my Mum who took her birthday week off work to spend it with her darling offspring, namely Offspring #2 (Simon) and Offspring #3 (me). Offspring #1 (Caroline) has contracted the dreaded Pox and is currently counting her spots in the spare room where she has been shunted by her husband. Chicken Pox is extremely contagious and likely to turn other people into poultry (probably) which was why Mum insisted she didn’t come on our little outing, although so vehemently that one suspected the Pox was simply a cover for the fact that she was actually projectile vomiting with her head spinning about 360 degrees.

On Wednesday, we bought Mum dinner in a restaurant which was initially lively, but silenced by the arrival of a pianist who looked unnervingly like Michael Gambon, and stared at his audience under beetled brows with an intensity which implied he had concealed a small warhead inside the
instrument. We also took her to Liverpool Anglican Cathedral, from whose tower you can see the entire City in all its Mersey-glory. However, to get to the top meant taking two lifts interspersed with a 108 step climb around the belfry. The lift itself spoke. At the UEA Library, The Voice of the Lift is a breathy young lady who lewdly purrs ‘Gooooing Dooowwn’ to bemused students. The Voice of the Cathedral Lift sounded like Darth Vader, if Darth Vader had joined the Royal Shakespeare Company, played Oberon in A Midsummer’s Night Dream on an outdoor stage, and it was all very difficult, and there wasn’t any amplification and he’d had to rely on his projection alone. Thus:

(Heavy Breathing) Levellll Tenn: The TOOOOOOOWWWWWWerrrrrrrrrrrr

Levelllll Foooouuuuuuuur: Elizabeeeethan Embrooiidery Ex-hi-bi-tionnnnnnnnn

Like many tourists, I came home (to Lydia’s own birthday celebration) with some very bad photos (coincidentally blurry whenever Mum happened to pick up the camera, see right) and a Beatles mug. Unfortunately, the God of Mugs, He giveth and He taketh away, because yesterday I managed to break Emma’s.

Now its Sunday, and sunny. Spring may (MAY) be just around the corner. Let’s not jinx it people.


Anonymous Jo said...

< heavy breathing > I am LOOOVING the new style of photography- focussing on the wall behind the two people grinning for the picture. It's an incredible skill- your mum is extremely talented!

5:45 AM  
Anonymous Monkey said...

I know liverpool too well. Coincidentally I generally see the city blurred when I go there too. I am normally in a bar or a rock club though which might explain that...

5:09 AM  
Blogger Kirsti said...

come on there. It's update time.

10:13 PM  

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