Antwerp

Originally uploaded by marie-ll.

So after a long LONG journey we finally made it to Antwerp. Incorrect tickets, airport misinformation and broken down trains all slowed us down but eventually determination prevailed and we made it.

This will be short - these split handed keyboards are made for two handed typists and typing isn't an activity I do two handed. So just a 'where in the world?' update - but on Monday I shall reveal all here... what's been going on, with whom and why...

What has become of us?

So I've been in England for 4 days now - and have noticed an obsession with a show that a scant decade ago would have appeared only fleetingly one of Chris Tarrant's "Let's Laugh At The Japanese" 'specials' (Clive James would not have stooped so low)

"I'm a celebrity get me out of here" is a show designed to humiliate ex-celebrities in need of airtime whilst extracting maximum coinage from the 'voting public'. So the producers decide that somebody has to bathe in cockroaches / eat a Kangaroo's tongue, penis, eye, balls and anus (both genuine challenges) and the 'great British public' phone in at 50p a minute to nominate the posh bird or the poof.

This means that this week Jan Leeming (the second most famous female newsreader of the late 70s) and Scott something or other (a poofy designer of no reputation) get to participate in every nasty little 'challenge' for our amusement.

The only real high to date has been David Gest - husband to Liza - and a man of whom little was known. He's had the good sense to date to tell the most outrageous and bare faced lies, to leap into challenges without flinching (deny the public this and they tire of bullying you) and to refuse to eat the swill provided even when the alternative was hunger. Well done David.

But really when did we become so petty? So pathetic? When did torture (for the challenges are torture) become entertainment? And when did our class and sexuality divide become so self evident? It would be easy to dismiss "I'm a Celebrity..." as a nasty minded piece of filth - it's less easy to ignore the glee with which the British public embrace that filth.

What next? Celebrity torturers in Iraqi prisons? Faith Brown blacked up and forced into a 'stress position' in a black hoel prison somewhere in the far east? Jason Donovan forced to listen to his back catalogue?

It may seem far fetched - but then so did the idea of that camp man from the children's BBC broom cupboard being forced to bathe in frog's intestines being served up as entertainment... didn't it?

Where did all the people go?

Abducted by aliens?
Originally uploaded by Pandarine.

I know that the blog posts have been thin and boring of late but it seems that nobody will havwe noticed as nobody reads this anymore... I promise major news and possible sickness in the near future.

Until then I have 5 trains and a plane to catch in a bid to get to Belgium

Oh I do like to be beside the Seaside

Oh I do like to be beside the Seaside
Originally uploaded by Parksy1964.

Oh I do like to be beside the sea... Back in Redcar for a couple of days - ostensibly to wait on passports (they arrived at 7.50am this morning) but in reality to catch up with friends and family. It's been an age since Jude was here - and she's very excited about both cooking something and heading in to a revamped M'bro in search of boots. She's already bought eco-friendly, Kevlar soled shoes... which she checks excitedly on the half hour, so the boots will be vying for space in the increasingly overloaded hand luggage. Good to spend time with her though... it's been ages since we just chilled out together and I'd forgotten how cool she is

London Calling

Steve said I could write a blog post.

So - we're traveling from London to Redcar. A trip I haven't done in a while, on the wonderful Flying Scotsman, or GNER as it is now stylishly called. The fact that it's got modern amenities like wireless connection is deceiving. In fact, the chairs look like they were last upholstered in 1964, and the "off the trolley" lady doesn't use deodorant.

Very English.

All the stewards are Scottish, just like on the Virgin flight on the way over. We feel like we lost Sunday, since most of it was spent lying down 38,000 feet up, from dark to dark (with some light in between).

Saw my brother, Dave, yesterday. And our friend Varya who's now married. But not to Dave.

Anyhoo - Steve says all I do is moan, so I'll keep further thoughts to myself.

:)