digitaldust

Here I am in an cloth bestrewn, opulent, intensely red lothario lounge. There are lovers wedging themselves into the clubs crannies of this rock walled bar but I’m the only lone drinker in La Piano Rouge. This is far removed from the branded umbrellas and their touristic shade in the Rynek above and another reason to love Krakov. I have finally found it after following Terry’s sometimes contradictory directions.

I could be as cliched to say that it is the Paris of Central Europe, with its medieval beauty, its strking buildings, fairy tale castle and gently wooded park around the old town where the walls once stood. But I think it is more like the Barcelona of the north. It’s laid back, packed full of bars and cafes and interesting looking people. It has a relaxed and vibrant night scene. Not what I thought Poland would be in any way at all.

The last couple of days I’ve kept ending up in Kazimierz, either by myself or when with Jo. The Plac Nowy is the Hoxton of the Eastern Bloc. Jazz bars, dance clubs, trendy pubs line the square while an old school polish market bustles in the middle. Earlier today we sat drinking coffee, vodka and beer, watching hipsters play impromptu badminton in the square. In the evening every club/bar/gig we’ve tried to go to over the last couple of days has been packed out and we cant even wedge ourselves in sideways.
If I moved east of London then Krakov is where I would like to head, and Kazimierz is where I would live. It’s just like Hackney and Hoxton all rolled into one bundle of fun.

Finally I’ve managed to upload all of my Canada photos. I could have done a more full on edit, and I could have reproduced some of the HDR shots to make them a bit less intense. But otherwise they’re a nice set and give an idea of what our trip was like.

After trying in vain to get fickr badges on here I’ve just resorted to a linked image.

Here’s some pictures of a dragon parade that Heather and I bumped into while wandering around Penang at night.

I’m off to New Zealand by way of Malaysia. Be back in the new year.

www.flickr.com craggs’ norfolk birthday 2004 photoset

Heather has just got back a years worth of film she had sent to NZ to be processed at her favourite lab. All sorts of things have turned up in this archaeological stratum of our lives. Here’s a flickr badge of our holiday to Norfolk last year. We went and stayed in a octagonal cottage called Mustard Pot especially for her birthday.

Heather and I are off to Morocco today… So my irregular postings will get regularly more irregular for the next two weeks while we are screaming around the back roads behind the Atlas mountains.

We’re both looking forward to it even though all the stories we’ve heard point to it being a taxing holiday. Probably not quite what either of us needs right now, but it is a chance to extract us from our irregular regularity.

Last weekend I visited Helsinki with Ed and caught up with Matt and Fiona, as well as meeting Chris Heathcoate. Although I didn’t actually see anything too strange I know there is a deep dark heart of weirdness there in Finland. It must be somewhere deep in the woods or in the lakes because it ain’t in the city.

However I did see performing cats on the streets.

One thing we did notice was that all the Finns are forest creatures. They’re all either little pixies or harmless woodland mammals; anyone big and blond must be Swedish. Otherwise the Finns themselves are cute and cuddly but also a little bit frightened looking, If you try to talk to them they look like rabbits stuck in headlights. I think all the Finns in Helsinki must be going through some kind of deep racial memory thing about disappearing into the woods and living in fairy mounds or badger holes… you say hi to someone and they get this look in their eye like they’ll bolt for the nearest tree, but in a real cute way.

And they all have incredibly inbred little dogs.

This woman has a small bear as a pet. Possibly the result of a genetic experiment in some secret lab up beyond the Arctic Circle. It’s disguised as a dog for legal reasons.

The best place, not that I’ve tried many but this place will certainly take some beating, is Martin’s Diary in Looe. It doesn’t look like much from the outside, but inside it is light and clean and when we went packed full. The scones were spectacular, not too dry or bready with a degree of lightness that puts them above your average lumpen mass that scones are all too notorious for being. The clotted cream was sweet and smooth but not overpowering and the organic strawberry jam still makes my mouth water thinking about it. And the friendly people that run the shop are nice, they even snuck in an extra scone to the 4 that we asked for.

Sadly no e-presence of any kind but physically they are here in Looe. And the address is

Martins Dairy: Genuine Clotted Cream By Post.
Fore Street, East Looe, Cornwall PL13 1HH UK
Tel: +44 (0)1503/262525

They deliver clotted cream, scones and jam by post, in any combination.

Yep, Heather and I went to stay in a Yurt in Cornwall last week and it was delightful. That was my surprise birthday present and it was probably one of the best I’ve ever been given. We were both sick as disease ridden mongrels but had a great time anyway. The little B&B farm we stayed at was very nice the folks there were friendly and smiley and the dinner that we had on my actual birthday night was spectacular, no food I didn’t like, tons of stuff that tops my favourite lists or does now anyway

On the way down we stayed with Ed in Bristol. Went to the balloon fiesta and saw dozens of balloons and the Glow. A balloon glow is something like balloonists trying to do wheelspins in a carpark like boy racers, but with big balloons and huge jets of burning propane. Visually spectacular and all set to really really cheesy music, that particular mix of music that goes with fireworks at your local bonfire night, but worse.

We drove back and forwards between Plymouth and Botelet farm a couple of times and had to cross the Saltash Bridge a few times. When you come back into Devon from Cornwall you have to pay a pound. It doesn’t cost to get into Cornwall but it costs to get back into England, makes Cornwall feel like another country, taxes and a big border bridge

On the way back we stopped off in Wiltshire to look at a white horse and Avebury, which has to be one of my favourite places in England. Heather was also assaulted by a Barrow Wight in the West Kennet Barrow.

Will hopefully give more details… like where to find the Beast on Bodmin moor, which Looe to go into and where to find the best clotted cream tea in the south west.

I´m in Barcelona right now (recovering from 3 nights of music festival) and I have to say it´s one of the friendliest and liveliest cities I´ve been too. The first thing I noticed was that there are sooo many cafe´s. Which is great for me cause I love everything about cafes… the style of food, the relaxed atmosphere, the social hubbub and most of all the coffee. When a cafe here gets it right, it gets it reeaally right on all counts. The decor in these places is spectacular, half the city´s population must be interior designers, every place looks hyper-designed, even the grungy ones look grunged up for effect. The other half of the city is just there to hang out in them, looking very cool wearing trendy clothes and sporting piercings and tattoos.

Barcelona is a very livable place, well at least I think I would be happy to live here. It´s also a more urbane place than I expected. I think it has the charm of an italian city but feels a lot more laid back, the people don´t seem to be trying as hard as the italians. Heather and I were also discussing that it also feels a lot like Paris, but not as big (obviously) and less formal; it just doesn´t feel like it has to make an effort to be elegant. All in all a great place, and well worth a repeat visit to go cafe crawling and tapas trawling.