174: a day trip to Cambridge

A week post-Race to the Stones and my feet are almost back to normal size, although luckily I haven’t had to test this by putting anything like shoes on! The only day I’ve left the village was Thursday, when we went on a work team outing to Cambridge where the University Library is showing our exhibition Raymond Briggs: A Retrospective until late August.

Cambridge isn’t somewhere I have spent a great deal of time – I went to a humanist naming ceremony there once, and while Timeshare Teenager 1 was at Anglia Ruskin we popped up to see her, but other than a two-hour delay on a train back from somewhere where we got to sit in the station that’s been it. My very efficient Public Programmes Producer Jo organised the day, finding out about trains and buses, which was much appreciated by myself and the other member of the team Valentina.

Jo knows about things like group save tickets, and so we met at Kings Cross to catch the train and grab breakfast from Leon. Miraculously the trains were well-behaved all day (unlike the tube on the way home). Cambridge University Library is an impressive 1930s building which reminded us all of a power station – which makes sense now that I have discovered the architect, Giles Gilbert Scott, also worked on Battersea Power Station (and the red telephone box, which is cool).

The gallery is tucked away to the side of the main library entrance; quite a small space but the exhibition is full of sketches, roughs and proofs from some of Briggs’s best known-works like The Snowman and Father Christmas as well as from his longer graphic novels like When The Wind Blows and Ethel and Ernest. My sister’s favourite, Fungus the Bogeyman, also featured – I’d forgotten all the wonderful words in this one, and how endearing Fungus was.

We liked the simple sketch/make trails, especially playing with scale and getting messy with the giant’s footprint. We were amazed at the different illustration styles Briggs used over the years, and at the neatness of his typography for Fungus’s pages. The scrawled notes like ‘no full frontal nudity for Father Christmas’ made us laugh. When The Wind Blows brought back memories of the 80s and the very real fear of nuclear war, and The Tin-pot Foreign General and the Old Iron Woman was a stark look at the Falklands War.

If you’re in the area do go and see it – free entry and you also get to marvel at the University Library.

After leaving the library we walked through the grounds of one of the colleges, watching people punting and a fashion shoot with preppy clothes on the banks of the Cam, and made our way to Kettle’s Yard where we were planning to have lunch and a look at the Palestinian embroidery exhibition. The pavement on the way was scattered with bronze flowers, which Google informed us was the Cambridge Core and Flower Trail, inspired by a medieval coin hoard found by Anglian Water workers.

Lunch was a salad with hummus and falafel, with a lemon and ginger lemonade, while Jo and Valentina had huge vegetarian wraps. Jo tried the sticky toffee cake too, while I resisted the delicious-looking date flapjack.

Material Power

Our slot to visit the house was at 2pm, so we visited the Material Power exhibition first. The show covers both historic and modern dress, and the role of embroidery as a social signifier and a form of protest and resistance. As a cross-stitcher and very basic embroiderer, the amount of work and detail in the gorgeous garments left me speechless (I know!), especially the inside out garment where the back of the work was spectacularly neat. The image of the ’embroidered woman’ in the PLO material was striking. Upstairs was more modern clothing, and we were struck by the foregrounding of Palestinian women’s voices by simply having their video playing out loud, while the curator had to be listened to on headphones. Valentina has Palestinian ancestry, so the exhibition held personal meaning for her.

The piece that moved me most was the one above, Aya Haidar’s Safe Space series: a set of six hoop embroideries documenting her mother’s memories of growing up on Lebanon in the Civil War (1975-1990), and the steps people took to stay safe from everyday violence. Saucepan helmets and bullet proof vests, sleeping under beds, piling furniture to protect from flying glass, captured in a ‘domestic’ craft.

Finally we popped up to look at the ‘reflection and response’ space which turned out to be a corner in a corridor. The rest of the exhibition was so well done that I was a bit disappointed by this, though space is obviously an issue. There was a lot to reflect on and this felt like an afterthought.

To the house!

I’d heard of Kettle’s Yard as someone on my MA course was a volunteer there, but didn’t know much about it so had no idea what to expect. I was completely enchanted from the moment we walked in.

The website says, ‘Kettle’s Yard is the University of Cambridge’s modern and contemporary art gallery. Kettle’s Yard is a beautiful House with a remarkable collection of modern art.’ This does not do it justice. You can take a virtual tour here, but if you’re in Cambridge – perhaps to see the Raymond Briggs Retrospective! – go and visit. It’s magical in the same way that Dennis Severs’s House is: out of time, and with the sense that someone has just left the rooms. Apparently Helen and Jim Ede welcomed visitors and fed them tea and toast, and this spirit of home remains.

When your timeslot arrives you are escorted to the house where you ring a bellpull and are greeted by an incredibly knowledgeable person who clearly loves their role. You can sit in any of the chairs but you can’t touch any of the exhibits, which was frustrating for someone likes me who loves a pebble and a found object.

This being me, I gravitated to the packed bookshelves in Helen Ede’s room where I found such old friends as Lucy M. Boston’s Green Knowe stories (set in Huntingdon) and Sellars & Yeatman’s 1066 and All That. I wanted to find a chair and read for a while. The whole house exerts a sense of calm that I usually get from being at the seaside. Many of the paintings that called to me were seascapes, particularly Seascape with Two Boats by Winifred Nicholson where my eye was caught by the small child exploring the rocks and the Alfred Wallis Five Ships, Mount Bay which reminded me of Aberaeron.

*Seascape with Two Boats –* Winifred Nicholson

I also liked Cornelia Parker’s Verso series – photographs of the reverse of button cards from a museum collection, which highlight the work of the seamstresses who had to mount these buttons.

You can read more about Jim Ede and Kettle’s Yard here and here. If I go missing, you’ll find me tucked in a corner of his house with one of Helen’s books.

Next week will be a crafty update as I have been busy with crochet creatures, cross stitch and a make and share for the new issue of Tauko magazine. Here’s a teaser…

Kirsty x

What I’ve been reading:

Overboard– Sara Paretsky

The Ward Witch – Sarah Painter

Moon Over Soho/Whispers Underground – Ben Aaronovitch (Audible)

Emily Wilde’s Encyclopaedia of Fairies – Heather Fawcett

Desert Star – Michael Connelly

Ye Gods! – Tom Holt

The Good, The Bad and The History – Jodi Taylor

173: and a bit

Or, things we know now that we didn’t know last week, by Gwrachod Ar Daith (witches on tour). Faithful readers will know that earlier this year we all signed up to do an ultramarathon to raise money for Parkinsons UK. The event was Race to the Stones, 100km along the Ridgeway from Lewknor in Oxfordshire to Avebury in Wiltshire.

We all finished it – not together, but I was only a few minutes behind the others – and over breakfast this morning we put together this handy guide for anyone else signing up to an event like this.

Before the event

Do the training.
No, really. Do all the training, no matter how often you run/do classes/other things. DO THE TRAINING.
Test your shoes and socks. Find what works for you. Your feet will thank you.
Train in the kit you’re wearing on the day. Test your fuelling. Race Day is not the day to experiment.

Three days to go:

No, you’re not coming down with Covid/flu/Bubonic Plague/the screaming lurgy. This is pre-race hypochondria.
Pack early so you can repack at least five times in consultation with your race buddies
A whole bag for your snacks is perfectly reasonable.
Carb load. Pasta or rice every day for a week? FINE.
You will question your life choices. A lot.

The day before:

Eat well. Hydrate. This is not the time for an Indian takeaway and a few pints of Cobra.
Get an early night, because you’re going to be awake very early.
Not all glamping sites are created equal. When they say ‘cooking facilities in each tent’ ask for details, because you don’t want to be messing with a fire pit at 5am. Also ask if ‘complete luxury’ includes bedding. Thank heavens we had our sleeping bags and pillows for the following night.

On the day:

Have that last wee. You won’t regret it.
Start with your team even if you know you won’t finish with them. Have a plan, find your pace and don’t feel you have to keep up. Enjoy it!
Even if you haven’t had a single blister in training you’ll get one on the day.
Use the walking poles and you won’t get sausage fingers.
Small children proffering Haribo are angels in disguise.
Weather happens. Slather on the suncream and bug spray, have the waterproof.
Talk to people. I had some great conversations, and it takes your mind off the distance.
Check in with people, say hi, make sure they’re ‘re ok. It’s an ultra and it’s hard mentally as well as physically.
Use all the pitstops, especially if there are piglets.
Eat ALL the snacks. Fill your bottles. See the medics if you need to but don’t sit down too long.
At some point everyone and (almost) everything will smell better than you.
Look up sometimes and see the scenery!
Just make it to the next stop: bite sized chunks!

Basecamp:

Shower, eat, sleep. Do not be tempted to party into the night, there’s another 50k tomorrow.
Earplugs are your friend. We used Loop ones. .
Eat breakfast.
Rehydrate. Keep warm.

Post-race:

Book a hotel.
Don’t sign up to next year on that wave of post-event euphoria.
Be really bloody proud of what you’ve achieved.
Eat ALL THE FOOD.

And now I need some food!

Kirsty x

What I’ve been reading:

Alexandria/Nemesis – Lindsey Davies

Amongst Our Weapons/Rivers of London – Ben Aaronovitch (Audible)

Overboard – Sara Paretsky

172: Piriton, Posters and Prosecco…

…both of which knock me for six these days which at least means I have slept well!

On Monday I was fifty, and while for the past few years my birthday has been celebrated in the garden with barbecues and coffee tequila, this year I’ve been training hard for the Race to the Stones so I didn’t plan anything. My lovely neighbour Sue had invited me round for a hot tub in the evening, which turned out to be a surprise mini-gathering with cake and fizz and presents, which was most unexpected and very lovely!

The cake did actually catch fire, thanks to Jill’s sparklers and decorations – not down to the number of candles: all we in the garden heard was “happy birthday to AAAARGGH!”.

Presents included a selection of plasters and a voucher for our local salon so I can book myself a post-Race pedicure or massage – bless them!

The second prosecco event was the private view of Young V&A on Wednesday evening, at which I was so excited I didn’t take any photos.

Even knowing what to expect (having worked on it for five years!) I still had a wow moment when I walked in and saw it full of colour and people. Last time I was on site, about two months ago, it was in full chaos with cases and objects being installed, and it seemed very unlikely that they’d ever be ready to open on time.

The mission – thanks to a throwaway comment by a snarky pre-teen – was to create the most joyful museum in the world. There were definitely moments during the five years that joy was in very short supply, but the end result is wondrous. At the event I attended there were adults and children interacting in the all the ways we’d hoped and my new colleague Cassie who joined me at the event was enchanted too. The museum is bright and full of colour, yet definitely not a play area. Opening up the roof lights has changed the atmosphere in what is essentially a Victorian greenhouse. The huge gallery titles bring colour and playfulness to the central space – not to mention the flying Microlino car – and there are still enough ‘I had one of those!’ moments to draw in the adults. Clever moments like the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles’ house being added to the dolls houses make you smile, as do the poems commissioned from people like Michael Rosen and Valerie Bloom to illustrate the letters in the ‘Apple is for A’ section.

The Design gallery – the one I worked on and which at times felt like an afterthought – does exactly what we wanted it to do: brings the stories of the design case studies to life, and highlights the work of young people. Works by teens are hung next to work by Issey Miyake and Bethany Williams, and I was sneakily thrilled to see the border panel I made as part of the quilt. The open studio was filled with people, the ‘boob carpet’ is in place (go and see what I mean) and the Shed walls were filled with amazing pieces by the resident Clara Chu.

The overall shine was tarnished for me by the discovery later in the week that for some reason the V&A’s director, Tristram Hunt, had ordered the removal of two posters from the ‘Design gives people a voice’ display and some books from the shop. The space limitations in that area of the gallery meant that every single object had to work hard to get its message across, was included after much debate and the gallery had been through multiple presentations to the directors and various trustees before this point. Our ethos throughout the project had been to reflect our audience in what we showed and to be genuinely inclusive. To have a Stonewall poster removed and the books from the shop – on the anniversary of Pride in London – denies and devalues the work we did towards this. Kristian Volsing, who was lead curator on this gallery, wrote a brilliant blog post this time last year about the pieces. Please read it and understand what our mission was.

I’d be interested to know what prompted the decision to censor objects in the gallery and in the shop mere days before opening and what apologies will be made to the communities being hidden by the V&A. I hope Hunt is challenged and the objects are reinstated. So far he has refused to retract the decision despite representations from the LGBT staff forum and the union.

As for the Piriton…bloody mosquitoes.

Next week’s blog may be late as I have to go for a walk…

Kirsty x

What I’ve been reading:

Saturnalia/Alexandria – Lindsey Davis

Amongst Our Weapons – Ben Aaronovitch (Audible)

Back When We Were Grown-ups – Anne Tyler

171: swearing at the shrubbery

Anyone eavesdropping on the Essex Way yesterday afternoon would mostly have been listening to a stream of curses raining down on nettles, people who don’t maintain their footpaths (and in one case actually excavate it with no alternative route posted, although hopefully this is temporary and will reinforce the bank of the River Roding), spiky things that work their way into your socks, farmers who don’t pick up their hay after mowing, the humidity, brambles, cobwebs and more nettles.

Yes, it was our last long training walk before the big event in two weeks’ time, and in our slightly adapted training plan this meant 40k. For both sets of sisters – each with one marathon runner – this translated naturally to a nice round 26.2 miles (42.16k for those of us working in metric). The majority of the Essex Way between North Weald and Pepper’s Green near Chelmsford, where we turned round, is shadeless and cut through crop fields. The ground is so dry, as we’ve had virtually no rain for the best part of five weeks, that the the clay is more like crazy paving with chasms opening up and trapping unwary walking poles.

[brief interlude while I eat this amazing breakfast Tan has just handed me…]

The bits that aren’t cut through crop field are unusually overgrown this year – I’m used to them being well-trodden by dog walkers, but perhaps the heat is keeping them indoors this summer.

Still, we made it – we were lucky enough to see a small group of deer bounding through a field, and heard a lot of skylarks. The River Roding was populated by gorgeous dragonflies, and we saw a cheeky buzzard being chased off by an irate crow. The Willingale Village Day was in full swing as we came through, so we took advantage of their toilets for a quick stop – the PA was audible for a fair way, so we were soundtracked on the outward stretch by the egg and spoon race!

The walk ended up in Co-op, for the now traditional fizzy pop and Calippo fix. Today we’re doing a stretch of the Thames Path in west London for a short 25k, and then we taper before the big event!

To remind you all of why we’re doing this insane amount of walking… check out our page. My big birthday is tomorrow and it would be AMAZING to hit my personal fundraising target as part of that – I’m only £86 short at the moment. Thank you to everyone who has supported us so far – the conversations I’ve been having as I’ve training for this show how devastating a disease Parkinsons can be, and the impact it has on families as well as the sufferer is enormous.

An evening out with Thing 1

On Monday I dragged Thing 1 off with me to see Peter Gabriel at the O2, as he was touring for the first time in 10 years. She likes live music although didn’t really know any of his stuff, but kindly came along with me anyway. He may be 73 but is still putting on a good show!

The show came in at about two hours, with a good mix of the old and new including several from So. Thing 1 liked the faster songs like Digging in the Dirt and the new Panopticom. The first half ended with a high energy Sledgehammer. The usual trio of Tony Levin, Manu Katche and David Rhodes were in place, ably backed by a new touring band including composer, cellist and vocalist Ayana Witter-Johnson who took the Kate Bush parts on Don’t Give Up and harmonies on the lovely In Your Eyes. We missed Biko at the end as we wanted to avoid the tube crush on the Jubilee Line.

There were lots of musings on AI and the connected world, and great visuals – Gabriel is known for his partnerships with other artists and for this tour he’d gone to visual artists including Ai WeiWei and Cornelia Parker to create videos for new material. These are also available as he releases them on his website and YouTube each month with the phases of the moon – including dark side and light side mixes).

We had dinner at Italian Kitchen, which served up an excellent calzone for me and pizza for madam.

Other things making me happy this week…

An evening at the Charterhouse summer event with the work team
An afternoon at Epping Forest District Museum, seeing the Tiger Who Came To Tea exhibition and talking all things museum learning
A morning at the Museum of the Order of St John, including the crypt and the garden
Coffee with Amanda after paddling through torrential rain!
Cuddles with the grandchildren
Carb-loading with a lot of pasta

Right, I’d better go and get ready for the day!

Kirsty x

What I’ve been reading:

Scandal Takes A Holiday/See Delphi and Die – Lindsey Davis

Back When We Were Grown-ups – Anne Tyler

Carpe Jugulum – Terry Pratchett (Audible)

The Sandman – Neil Gaiman (Audible)

The Mercenary River – Nick Higham

170: yes, but what’s it for?

For the last few weeks I’ve been merrily crocheting maths, in pretty colours and various wavy and wonderful shapes which look like corals and other undersea creatures like nudibranches. The process is pretty simple: you start with a small chain or circle of stitches and keep increasing at the same rate, and after a few rounds or rows the fabric starts to create hyperbolic geometry. Nature likes hyperbolic forms as it maximises the surface area of a life form – perfect for filter feeding organisms like corals to get the most out of their environment. Curly lettuces also have this hyperbolic geometry (or negative curvature),

In 1997 Dr Daina Taimina, a professor at Cornell University, discovered that the best way for humans to make models which demonstrate this geometry is with crochet – just by modifying the basic crochet code you can create these weird and wonderful shapes. She wrote a book about it, explaining the history and development of non-Euclidean geometry and its applications to art, music, computer science and all sorts of other clever things. It’s the only maths book I have ever read for fun, thanks to cousin Sal who needed a model made for demonstrating the concept of hyperbolic space to teenagers.

It also demonstrates exponential growth, which we all heard far too much about in the early days of this blog in the guise of the R-number. Associate Professor of biostatistics and owner of the science/knitting blog https://www.statistrikk.no/, Kathrine Frey Froslie, used the technique to create a visual version of the way Covid-19 was spreading. You can watch a video about it here.

I’m using patterns from the Crochet Coral Reef project by Christine Wertheim & Margaret Wertheim of the Institute For Figuring. “The Crochet Coral Reef is an artwork responding to climate change and also a global community-based exercise in applied mathematics and evolutionary theory.”

This makes me sound ever so clever, doesn’t it. I’m not going to pretend I understand the maths behind it all but I do understand that the process of making these is repetitive, and mindful, and while I’m trying to download a whole new job into my brain that’s exactly what I need from a project! So that’s what they’re for.

Other things making me happy this week…

This Spotify playlist – a weird and wonderful blend of music for long walks
Walking as a team yesterday – also weird and wonderful.
Orange Calippo lollies
A surprise fern from the Young V&A team in case I’d forgotten them
Getting up to date on the Temperature Supernova
Early morning walks
A day off when I got pampered by Thing 1 as part of her last assessments

Now I must go and do some dinner…

Kirsty x

What I’ve been reading:

A Body in the Bathhouse/The Jupiter Myth/The Accusers – Lindsey Davis

Noah’s Compass/Back When We Were Grown-ups – Anne Tyler

Carpe Jugulum – Terry Pratchett (Audible)

The Mercenary River – Nick Higham

169: some sentences strung together

Nope, I’ve got nothing.

No, I tell a lie: I have an impressive set of mosquito bites, aching feet (but no blister, thanks to Tan’s latest tape discovery) and a massive pile of ironing that requires attention. What I don’t have is a blog post…

Yesterday Tan and I tackled a 32km walk starting and ending in Goring, which took in a section of the Ridgeway, a stretch of the Thames Path and a whole lot of very nice houses to look at. I under-fuelled and had a funny turn in the last 10k (lying in the grass was probably where the mossie bites came from). Kendal Mint Cake came to the rescue with one of their new electrolyte bars and I survived to do a much slower walk in the shady forest this morning. I also went for a dip in the lake this morning: no swimming occurred, but I really needed the cold water.

And now I am going for a nap.

See you next week.

Kirsty x

Ode to a Banker/The Body in the Bath House – Lindsey Davis

Maskerade – Terry Pratchett (Audible)

The Mercenary River – Nick Higham

Under the Whispering Door – T.J.Klune

168: I ain’t superstitious

What is is about magpies? Three of my friends – all from various bits of Yorkshire, which may or may not be a coincidence – behave very oddly when they see one. One of them asks where its wife is, one asks after the health of its wife and children, and the third forks his fingers and spits between them as if warding off the evil eye. In all other ways this third one is possibly one of the most gentlemanly people I know, but when a magpie is foolish enough to come into his field of vision he gets all medieval.

It’s only solo magpies, apparently: more than one is absolutely fine. Jill even knows the numbers after seven in the one-for-sorrow, two-for-joy rhyme – it gets a bit post-watershed from eight onwards, it turns out. There’s more information here about it all, anyway, and it turns out some places even consider them to be lucky. In Sussex if a magpie sits on your roof it means your house won’t fall down, which I would find quite reassuring.

“There are many rhymes about magpies, but none of them is very reliable because they are not the ones that the magpies know themselves.
Terry Pratchett, Carpe Jugulum

You may wonder why magpies are on my mind this week. Previously I have waxed lyrical on how entertaining I find the baby magpies in the garden, as they’re scrappy and scruffy and play like children. I have felt sorry for the mama magpie, who comes and sits on next door’s roof for a bit of peace. There’s a nest at the end of the garden, so they’re a constant presence.

However, I do not love them quite as much as I did, as this year’s brood have taken to sitting on the guttering above our bedroom window at dawn every morning and starting their day with a noisy discussion about whatever it is magpies feel the need to debate at that hour of the day. I would go so far as to say that these six would be very unlucky indeed*, if I was able to fly.

(*not really, as long as they shut up.)

Things making me happy this week:

Still crocheting octopuses, although I did branch out into a hyperbolic coral thing
Baby horses spotted on my walk yesterday
A field full of hares on an early morning wander
Still my new job
Strawberries from the garden
The garden full of kids, grandkids, dogs, Timeshare Teenagers, and various extras, and my Beloved is in charge of the barbecue.

And on that note, I’ve done my walking for the weekend and there’s a bottle of Rattler with my name on it in the fridge.

Kirsty x

What I’ve been reading:

Two for the Lions/One Virgin Too Many/Ode to a Banker – Lindsey Davies

That Mitchell and Webb Sound S1-5 (Audible)

Exploring The New River – Michael Essex-Lopresti

167: every which way but right

What is it about Clerkenwell and Farringdon? This week I have managed to get completely lost (twice) in the maze of streets surrounding them while trying to find my way back to the office. I think perhaps I get distracted by interesting alleyways and cut-throughs and – once – by a very beautifully executed sculpture of David Beckham’s naked torso, complete with tattoos. I had to go back and look twice, in fact, as it was so well done. Anyway. Where was I?

Oh yes, I didn’t know where I was, and that was my point. The first occasion was on Tuesday morning after having coffee with Amanda, who pointed in the general direction of Farringdon and I still managed to get lost. Eventually I found my way back with the aid of Google Maps, which is FINE if you can make it stay in the direction of travel. If not then you have to walk thisaway and thataway until you work out which way is the right one, and then reverse it in your head.

I got lost again on Friday afternoon after a visit to the Zaha Hadid Foundation and the ten minute walk back to the office on St John Street took half an hour. I didn’t realise how lost I was until I found the Mount Pleasant sorting office – I love that building but it was a long way down Farringdon Road from where I needed to be. It is a bit of a maze of narrow lanes and rookeries round there, and tucked away in all of them are lovely old Georgian squares, Victorian houses and funny little nooks.

I did, however, manage to walk successfully from the office to Bethnal Green and was only a bit distracted by Lady Dinah’s Cat Emporium with its window full of furry friends.

This week we also had an ‘all-in’ day at work, when everyone comes on site. In the afternoon we had a workshop on class and class dynamics, run by Tonic Theatre, which was fascinating and uncomfortable in equal measures. From the reaction of our non-UK team members, the British concept of class is more than a bit weird. One exercise was around stereotyping: we were asked to give a working class/upper class sport, saying, food, art form, clothing and name. Another was to think about our own contexts in terms of education, economics, cultural capital and more – and about how that’s changed over generations. Turns out there’s a lot more to it that knowing which knife to use and not calling napkins serviettes or whatever.

Possibly one of my favourite aspects of the new job is being able to do a deep dive back into London history – especially the New River, which is neither new nor a river. The trouble as always is knowing when to surface…

Other things making me happy this week:

Long walks in the sunshine: this weekend I’ve covered 40k over two walks. The first was the Moreton and the Matchings walk I did in the rain on the coronation weekend, the second was a slow loop around Tawney Common.
On a related note, farmers who cut the public footpaths back in have made it to the list. You know who you are (well, I don’t). If you could see your way clear to hacking back the nettles too, that would be great. Nettles are not on the list.
Overhearing one of the trustees talking to ACTUAL QUENTIN BLAKE about ME.
Crochet octopi and a Totoro cross-stitch update

Now I’m off for a shower and a nap…

Kirsty x

What I’ve been reading:

A Dying Light in Corduba/Three Hands in the Fountain – Lindsey Davis

Zero Waste Patterns – Birgitta Helmersson

Exploring the New River – Michael Essex-Lopresti

That Mitchell & Webb Sound S1-5 (Audible)

166: careful K, your nerd is showing

Here I am at the end of my first week at my new job, which is pretty flipping exciting indeed.

You know sometimes when you start a new job that you spend the first few days feeling a bit lost, as everyone else is getting on with things and no one is quite sure what to do with you? Or they give you a whirlwind tour of the building and then you spend the next week trying to remember where the staff toilets are, what the coffee arrangements are and who that person is in the corner.

This week was not that week.

Tan and I flew back from Mallorca on Monday night – delayed by an hour, the M23/M25 junction was closed, so was the South Circular, so we had to detour through the wilds of south-west London (there are a lot of Specsavers and Boots stores there, I can tell you). The saving grace was that the loud idiot who had been on our flight out was not on our flight back, though the rest of the hen and stag parties were so we suspect he was either arrested or deported*. I was staying in Ealing, so I staggered into bed just after 2am (bless my brother-in-law for setting up the airbed for me before we got back!) and lurched out again at 6. The plan was to meet my bestie at 8am for a first day coffee, as we’re now working within a few minutes’ walk of each other.

The Elizabeth Line had other ideas – a 25 minute journey took more than an hour and a half, which was either due to a faulty train, someone on the track, an eddy in the space-time continuinuinuum, or possibly the software gremlin which has been causing the emergency braking system to engage randomly since they upgraded it in April. The Lizzie line starts running at full timetable this week, so let’s see how that works.

Anyway. Day one included a speedy tour of the building. We’re lodging temporarily in a comms company’s back office, while our own FABULOUS new site at New River Head is under development. It’s open and friendly, and we’re all in the same room. Hot desks again, so I’m still carrying a laptop around, but never mind. Here, the station to go home is closer than the Secretariat gate at the V&A was from the offices. Once logged in I had a whole pile of emails waiting for me, things to read, and in the afternoon we had a project team meeting at the new site. No time to feel lost! I do need to make a laptop bag though.

The rest of the week has been reading policies and strategies and plans, and delving into my London library (glad I kept that!) to find out more about the history of the New River – ah, you’re a nerd already!, said the Director. Little does she know…I’ve met my team, arranged some more meetings with various people to get up to speed on things, and generally felt useful.

*Our flight out was disturbed by him making downright offensive comments to and about the air staff, passing mothers-of-brides. He claimed he was ‘bringing the party’. I suspect someone else had dropped out and the groom had invited him to fill the numbers as they’d been at primary school together, as the rest of the stag party were nice and well-behaved. The man next to me had words with him. He made a comment about other people needing to wear headphones. I lost my cool (ha!) slightly. Yes, I called him sunshine. We were all friends by the end of the flight but still…

The rest of the week…

Our last day in Mallorca was Sal’s birthday, and we started off with an early swim at the tiny beach in Deia where we disappointed the local white van men delivering beer to the bar by keeping our tops on. We suspect they were waiting for the lithe blonde lady who appeared as we were leaving, who would have made them much happier. Breakfast on the balcony followed, with fresh pastries, oranges from the tree and Spanish hot chocolate. The ‘little stroll’ around Deia we’d decided on turned out to be just under 9k, taking in the beach again, a climb up the hill beyond the villa where we saw a black vulture circling, a wander round the town and finally tapas and a well-earned drink. We also saw a red kite or two, heard a nightingale, and discovered some really loud frogs.

A little stream through Deia, with various washing troughs

On the Sunday we’d tackled a nice easy mountain (!) and scrambled over to very pretty Valdemossa, where we had well-deserved cake and a wander round the town while waiting for the bus back. The buses are a hair-raising experience at times, as the roads are long and windy and the buses are…not. They are bus-sized buses, as Jane said. The bus back from Valdemossa was slightly late, and the driver made a special effort to make up time on the way to Deia. We were sitting down but still felt the need to hold on!

Sally and Jane at the top of the mountain

Yesterday’s long walk was much less exotic, but also a lot less mountainous as it was in Essex – I did manage to find some hills to boost my elevation, though. I took the same footpath I used a few weeks ago but turned right instead of left at the bottom of the hill. I should have turned round after 6k, as a 12k was on the plan but I was enjoying the walk so I carried on. 24k later… the walk took me through Theydon Mount, Hobbs Cross, Theydon Garnon, Theydon Bois (as I’ve said before, Essex likes to make the most of a good name), past Ambresbury Banks and down into Epping, where I joined the Essex Way through Coopersale and Gernon Bushes back home. The sun was out, the glam rock playlist was on, and the pace was fine. Today there’s been a swim at the lake – the swans have one cygnet left and they are quite feisty. One bit an unwary swimmer’s foot, in fact.

There’s a 12k on the cards this afternoon, so I’d better go and fuel up!

As always, you can find out why we’re scrambling up mountains and wandering through forests at our JustGiving page. I’m £175 off my personal fundraising target, and it would be great to raise as much as we can for Parkinsons Research. Gwrachod Ar Daith translates roughly to ‘Witches on Tour’ – a long tour at 100km and now only 6 weeks or so away…

See you next week.

Kirsty x

What I’ve been reading:

Last Act in Palmyra/Time to Depart – Lindsey Davis

That Mitchell &Webb Sound – Audible

165: the goat ate my homework

Next week I shall tell you all about my first day at work, but for now you’re getting some lovely photos of the view from the villa, our 8 mile walk from Deia to Port de Soller (including the sun/rain contrast taken two minutes apart), local wildlife, and breakfast picked fresh from the tree. Today apparently includes mountains and Valdemossa.

If you’re wondering why these four mad women are tackling mountains in Mallorca… Have a look here

And now it’s breakfast time…

Kirsty x

What I’ve been reading:

The Iron Hand of Mars/Poseidon’s Gold – Lindsey Davis

Maskerade – Terry Pratchett (Audible)