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The Vault Festival @ Old Vic Tunnels

March 2, 2012 in London Top Tips | 1 comment

I think in London it’s easy to become tenaciously obsessed with finding secret places that others might not have yet discovered, to try and clutch a bit of the city close to your chest for a while before it vanishes again or gets over-exposed and guest list only.

I’ve wanted to go exploring the Old Vic Tunnels since I heard about them opening last year. The tunnels run undernearth Waterloo train station and used to belong to British Rail (remnants of this fact can still be spotted by the eagle-eyed visitor, like old abandoned lockers and dreary staff toilets) but since 2010 the space has been reclaimed and used to host various theatre productions, events and gigs.

When you appear dazed out of tube and head out into the dark from Waterloo station don’t be alarmed when you have to vanish into the dodgiest, dankest looking subway you’ve ever seen – as the entrance is just down the steps. The tunnels have been decorated enough to make them feel cosy (candles and chintzy lamps) but also have enough original features to make it feel like somewhere you shouldn’t really be. There is a central tunnel, with ominous vast doors leading off into various rooms. One of the rooms is a fully fitted cinema screening room, complete with red velvet chairs; the perfect spooky enclosure for its recent run of Hammer Horror movies but outside festival-time the screening room is programmed and run entirely by the Old Vic Tunnels volunteer scheme.

As well as all the ticketed fun stuff occuring, there is also a huge bar area. On the recent date night that my boyfriend partner in crime and I ventured in there was a great band performing, massively cheap drinks (£2.50 for a spirit and mixer) and tons of sofas to sink into in the dim lighting, as we chatted away over the roar of the trains clattering above us. OH and there were £3 brownies although sadly due to a miscommunication about what we were actually going to see (something about red riding hood and needing to bring cake for the wolf? I really still dont know!) we had arrived pre-kitted out with our own packet of extremely chocolate mini rolls so couldn’t sample the baked goods, but judging on smell alone I’d give them 10/10.

Anyway we were there for the The Vault festival which ran in February, and I am really hoping returns again later in the year.  Basing our choice more on what night we were free rather than something we were desperate to attend, we plucked at random to buy tickets for The Folk Contraption which is the current project from the Rogues Gallery who are a group of actors, writers and directors who were “fed up of waiting for the phone to ring” and decided to create their own work which is brilliant in itself and should be supported. Also the description of the performance was ‘ramshackle’ which is probably my favourite word and style of thing too.

The Folk Contraption took place in a tented-off area in the vaults, and as everyone sat cross-legged on the floor with wide eyes I got the impression everyone was as unsure what to expect as we were. What followed was the most enchanting, amazing performance (definitely living up to the ramshackle promise) that consisted of stories, poetry, songs, music, sketches, comedy and basically anything else you can think of. They describe it as part play, part gig and part magical mystery tour which is pretty accurate! All the performers were so talented, that it was often impossible to know who to keep your eye on as they roamed through the seated crowds performing as they towered over us. The content was so diverse that I hardly even blinked and I didn’t get at all fatigued (I usually have a pretty short attention span for all things theatre).

It’s an unusual thing to be able to say and actually mean, but the show made me laugh out loud AND shed a little tear, as well as tons of other emotions in between. Everything was themed around London through various ages and felt like a real celebration and reminder of why I choose to live in this sometimes tough, rough city. I can’t recommend this show and bunch of performers highly enough, I know I will be stalking their twitter (@roguesgallery10)obsessively to find out if they are doing anymore shows in the future!

Take a trip down to the Old Vic tunnels soon for a drink or movie before everyone discovers it (Maybe start with the amazing Animal Party! ) And tell me how the brownies are…

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Weekend Escape: Nottingham

January 15, 2012 in Weekend Escapes | 5 comments

Hello 2012! I meant what I said, I really have returned to the land of Bee blogging, life has just been getting in the way a little bit. First it was all Christmas chaotic and then my first week back at work involved far too much desk-lunching and squinting at my computer screen, and not enough 11am drinking and living on a diet of roasted peanuts, turkey sandwiches and cheeselets for my festively conditioned body! Despite these pesky blog-obstacles, I have a really good feeling about 2012, and all the exciting adventures I will have to write about.

Anyway one thing sure to kick my ass into some Sunday afternoon scibbling (ok typing) is the fact tomorrow is my biggest blog-fan’s birthday. She has been a dedicated reader, a fan-email sender and all round eagle eye on all things Like a Skeleton Key. And she is… my mum! (This probably = minus cool points for some people, but she is the coolest fan I can think of having) So this little update is especially for her. When I mentioned I might blog about this trip we took, she said ooh I better watch my Ps & Qs if I’m going to be written about. I don’t think I have ever heard her utter more than a flip and she needs to be pretty raging to even drop one of those, but feel free to read this imagining that she swore at everyone she encountered and I’ve edited it out, it might make for a funnier read.

My mum and I have a tradition of going on a couple of weekend breaks every year. We’ve been known to pack ourselves off to chic Euopean locations like Paris… Bruges… Liverpool… Manchester… and this year her pick for a weekend jaunt was (drum roll) Nottingham. Yup, I know. I have to say, although it sounds very nice and all, I did give it a bit of a nose crinkle and furrowed brow as it’s a city I just didn’t know very much about – let alone what on earth we might find to entertain her there for three days. I’m glad to say, I was proved very wrong to be so doubtful.

We stayed in a standard Premier Inn, costing about the price of a round of drinks in London (!) per night. I am a big Hotel fan so found the room pretty swell even though it was no-frills. And of course I was chivalrous and gave my mum the double bed whilst I slept in the pull-out kiddy bed contraption that kept threatening to munch me everytime I so much as tensed a muscle in my sleep.

On the first day we just pottered around the town centre, which is really easily walkable and has some pretty areas to explore, like the old Lace Market and Hockley. I had the joy of introducing my mum to Shakeaway! I think these milkshake bars are quite common down South, but I’d only ever had the pleasure once before so was thrilled to stumble across one in Nottingham’s central square. I opted for a chocolate chip, dime bar and cheesecake special. (Mum opted for ‘just chocolate, just normal chocolate please’ ! Probably their easiest customer of forever) Mine tasted delicious, but also like diabetes in a cup and gave me the sugar-jitters for about 3 hours after; which was seriously badly timed with me having to pop into Primark to buy a cardigan. I had forgotten (tut, despite being Northern) that anywhere outside of London doesn’t have the protective smog jacket of stinky warmth, and so was in need of extra layers.

All set with my new chunky mustard knitwear (I am obsessed with mustard this year after never ever wearing anything that colour before. I’m like a magpie and now own so much mustard coloured clothing it might need it’s own drawer in my wardrobe. It’s a worry) I was ready to do some more exploring. We headed out of the city centre towards the Nottingham Trent campus, where there is an Arboretum. I didn’t know what this was, so to the uncultured, it’s basically another word for park. It was definitely worth a look; it had a nice lake, muchos ducks, ornamental gardens, exotic birds to peer at, a little maze and lots of leaves to kick. I think if we’d had longer I would have ventured out on the tram to Wollaton Hall & Park because it has real life deer and as previously mentioned, I love a good deer spot.


If you do find yourself in Nottingham, I think the best recommendation I received (via the power of Twitter) was Lee Rosy’s Tea Room,which is tucked away in the backstreets of Hockley, nestled between some nice independent art and music shops. They serve hundreds of different types of tea and a plethora of yummy cake goods. Not so good for lunch, as it’s just basic sandwiches on offer, so perhaps better as a good excuse for taking afternoon tea like a fancy person. The tea room was bustling but had a really nice atmopshere and very friendly staff, and was a great place to sit supping from our seemingly never ending pot of tea and reading books for an afternoon. They also stock tea to buy online here. I bought my boyfriend some lapsang souchong for Christmas (and a yellow submarine tea infusor, how cute is it?!) and it was really nicely pacakaged and tasted just as good at home without a nice waitress to brew it for you.

The more I write, the more wholesome and twee our Nottingham trip seems! I was going to say we did do one thrill-seeking, adrenaline pumping activity… but it was taking a ride on the carousel in the city centre. Ok, so we were definitely the only people on there over the age of 8, but it did go really fast and was dead scary, honest.

I’d definitely take a trip back to Nottingham. It was cheap, it was cheery and if nothing else takes you fancy – it’s probably the only place in the world where you can ride a carousel horse named Grandma.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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London’s Best Burger Bar : MEATLiquor

November 26, 2011 in Food, London Top Tips | 5 comments

I love cheeseburgers.

I love cheeseburgers so much that this joyous Lazy Oaf sweater is top of my Christmas List, although sadly I don’t think I know anyone who loves me enough to pay 60 big ones for a novelty jumper! I would probably wear it everywhere though, even in the bath.

I’m pretty carniverous, despite the fact that upon meeting new people the most frequent judgement I get is that I “look like a vegetarian” which surely is just about the most random summation of a persons looks possible? But it happens over, and over, to the point that now two of my friends only refer to me as “our favourite meat-eating vegetarian”. Whenever I go for a nice meal I have the endless battle of wanting to branch out and try something new, but then my blood thirsty meat eater voice pipes up and saying ALL YOU WANT IS A CHEESEBURGER! Why deny it! And then I just have no choice but to order the burger. But is is a risky way to live your food-ordering life, as burgers can be so hit & miss. So often they arrive filled with greasy potential, only to let you down.  Dry stale bun, drooly cheese slop, brown lettuce, recently-frozen grey patty, rogue pickles…

So when I heard that MEATLiquor had opened and was serving “the best cheeseburger in London” I knew I would not be able to sleep easy until I had sampled it for myself. It is the latest project from the people behind the legendary elusive Meatwagon truck, and later #Meateasy… which I shamefully never managed to get to because it was in New Cross. and as a northerner-in-London my geography is not good enough to navigate myself to such an obscure location. Thankfully they must have felt my pain when selecting the location for MEATLiquor  as it is just behind Debenhams off Oxford Street, and a glorious ten minute straight-line stroll from my work.

MEATLiquor is snuggled into a quiet corner on Welbeck Street, surrounded by bleak car parks and hiding from the rawcous Oxford Street rabble. As I walked there, I started to wonder how hard it was going to be to find. The thing that no other review I’ve read has mentioned yet is that you can smell MEATLiquor minutes before it actually comes into view. As I clutched my iPhone and watched the little blue dot (me) scooch closer to the red pin (ML) I was suddenly hit with the definite hunger-groan-inducing smell of burgers. I did have to stop and have a stern word with myself, panicking that my over-excitement at going to MEATLiquor was bringing on some sort of scent delusion, but then I saw the red neon sign glowing in the distance and realised it was my impending dinner I could smell.

First things first, you will have to queue. Sometimes queues = overhyped disappointment, and that fear that people are purely joining a queue in a zombie/sheep/just to be cool fashion. The queue at MEATLiquor however is well deserved and exists because a) it’s amazing and b) once you are in and bagged your table, you aren’t rushed. Both these things  make it way more worth a wait than Alton Towers rides or something else you might happily stand in line for. If you arrive PRE-6.45pm on an early week night you will only have to wait about ten minutes. If you arrive after 6.45pm (I guess this is burger o’clock as it specifically does get instant busy at this time!) then I don’t know an approximate time but the queue was as far as the eye can see. Even way past the good-smells zone. Queue entertainment is however provided as impatient city boys and bustling business folk attempt everything to skip the queue and schmooze the doorman, who hearteningly is very fair and simply does not make any exceptions and tells them to get to the back of the line buster (only far more politely than that)

We were lucky to be seated right underneath this incredible ceiling art, but the entire interior is the epitome of the word cool. I’m a sucker for animals, especially angry looking animals, and ML has these in abundance. The seating and table settings are minimal (tealights in jamjars) but this just goes to help show off the drama of the towering burgers and beautiful beverages. It feels like you have walked into New York and I guess that is exactly the aim, as long gone are thoughts of tube tussles and work woes, as you soak up the grease fumes and the cheery staff make you welcome.

STARTERS: I opted for the buffalo wings with blue cheese dip which resulted in a heaving pile of wings – a really over generous portion for the price. They were slathered in the most heavenly hot sauce and left me a sticky, shiney, sauce covered mess of a girl gnawing on the bones in desperation for it not to be over. A good sign? My hot date opted for deep fried pickles. I am unfortunately a pickle-phobic. I hate the taste of pickles, the look of pickles and being called pickle. But he assured me that they were heavenly, the batter revealing a juicy, crunchy dreamland laying in wait.

MAINS: As a result of obsessing over Burgeracs Dead Hippie Review both hot date and I couldn’t bring ourselves to sample anything else. It’s been likened to a big mac, and I suppose it is, but a really insanely delicious version that won’t leave you with those hollow McDs guilts & shakes after! It’s 2 burgers, lotsa cheese and special oniony sauce. With the compulsory lettuce all burgers must have. Mmm burger-juicey lettuce. ..Why can’t all salad taste like you! I’m no fancypants food reviewer but it was definitely one of the best burgers of my entire life which is what I’d signed up for.

BOOZE: I should have guessed from the name, but I hadn’t expected the highlight of the night to be the drinks, not the burger! It’s a close run thing, but it’s the speciality cocktail House Grog that I can’t stop dreaming of since my ML experience. A rum based punch served in a giant glass jar/jug with a hunk of pineapple and a straw makes you feel like you are in a Wham! video and tastes SO good. It goes down way too easily, and the menu specifies that customers are limited to “2 servings only” ! When the table in the middle of ML was apparently designed especially for dancing on, this seems a little mean. I could have definitely gone for 4, although my bank manager and hot date might not have thanked me so perhaps ML are wise to protect their clients with a rationing policy. I also sampled the cocktail named loosely around The Full English (?) and the fact I can’t remember the exact name is because it was pure alcohol with no mixer. Just spirit. But somehow delicious and also served with a mini pickled-egg rolled in bacon dust (where do you buy bacon dust?! I want to roll all my food in it please) and so was worth a sample purely for that. The MEATLiquor twitterer claims “Come hungry. Leave drunk.” I can vouch for this claims accuracy due to the fact I talked about dog bones for an entire 30 minute night bus ride home!

The atmosphere really was electric in there, in that exciting buzzy way of something amazing taking place. Everyone was beaming (no hipster pouting going on, hooray) and the ambience, CHEAPNESS, service and food could not be faulted. To read some proper-reviews by people fortunate enough to sample everything on the menu – go here to Time Out  and here to Cheese and Biscuits blog.

Safe to say I will be going back super soon. I’m looking at it this way – everytime I go I get fatter. Therefore every next time I go I have more bee blubber to keep me warm in the queue!

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Top London Tips 01 : Coffee & Cake, Curry and Happy Hour

March 4, 2011 in London Top Tips | 12 comments

I will have been living in London for 4 years this Autumn. That’s the longest I’ve ever lived in a city other than the one I was born in and pretty good considering I was one of those “Oh I’ll just go to London for a year or two and then probably get sick of it and move back up north” people. I adore living here but sometimes I think simple things such as where to go for a nice cocktail, where for a good curry or where for a nice cup of coffee can be almost impossible to work out – as there is an overwhelming amount of choice!

You can basically only learn by trial and error I think. So I thought I would start to share some of my favourites as I have a whole list stacking up in my moleskin and they are better written in here than kept scribbled to myself. I figure they might be useful if you live here or ever visit (especially as they are all on the cheap, as one thing living in London does is swallow up any disposable income you have!) Here are my first 3 and there are many more where these came from…

01. The Best Place for a Coffee, Cake and Chat

- Ray’s Jazz Cafe @ Foyles Book Shop

When I first moved to London, for the first two years I think it is quite possible that I spent more time sitting in the Starbucks in Borders on Oxford Street, trying to make one £1.20 peppermint tea last a lifetime and pouring over a heaving stack of magazines, than I did in the bedroom I was paying rent for! When Borders closed down, I was literally devestated. I had always thought it would be a place I could visit and visit forever, filled with fond new-London living memories. It’s taken a long time to find a suitable replacement but the Jazz Cafe definitely rivals it.

Sitting within the lovely independent Charring Cross bookstore Foyles, which is worth a visit anyway, the Jazz Cafe has it’s own staircase from the street. It is filled with old oak tables, benches and pews and has tons of space. Which is lucky, as the secret is obviously out, and it’s always bustling and busy. I’ve never been unable to get a seat though, so it’s just on the right side of heaving.

It offers a heady selection of coffees and herbal teas. There is also always a vast selection of homemade cakes, homemade soup (that’s often on half price if you go in an evening!) and mostly vegetarian sandwiches.

Spot the difference between the book wallpaper and the real books! There isn’t endless access to free magazines (sadly) but there is a hefty book collection that they are pretty relaxed about you pilfering and taking back to your table, as long as you replace it on it’s rightful shelf after! The atmosphere is busy and social, I often park up at a table already occupied by a random stranger and end up having a bit of a natter before plunging into my reading or writing. There is always a really diverse crowd; tourists, business folk, students etc and the fact it’s in the heart of Soho means it’s an easy stop off on route to exciting places like Covent Garden, Leicester Square and Oxford Street.
[website]

02. The Best Place for a Curry

- Tayyabs, Whitechapel

I grew up in Bradford where about 70% of meals ever eaten were curry! In my primary school, for hot school dinners we had keema every day, except for Fish Friday. I love curry, I love indian/pakistani cuisine and the spicier the better! But curry is so easy to get so wrong, or just meh. When in London it is sort of enforced on you that Brick Lane is the best place for curry. It’s definitely fun to wander around and chat to the hecklers outside, and get 10 popadoms, 2 for 1 beers and a free plate of bhajis thrown in, but I haven’t ever had a mind-blowing curry on Brick Lane.

Walk ten minutes away though, and rather than people heckling you to come in, at Tayyabs… they are heckling you to wait outside as the queue is so giant it snakes around the entire restaraunt. And this is for a very good reason; it’s the best curry in London! This leads me to my first point: BOOK A TABLE. Even when you make a reservation you might have to wait ten/fifteen minutes to be seated. If you turn up on a whim, you will be punished. Last week my beau and I got a Tayyabs craving and wandered in on a Thursday night (fools!) and we waited 1 hour and 35 minutes for a table. No seats, no polite waiters giving you freebies as you stand fainting with hunger. They don’t need to! There were at least 30 people who waited as long, if not longer, than us. The food is good enough that you are willing to put yourself that amount of torture. But unless you like your meal-out to include a very hefty test of your patience thrown in… then make sure you book.

The menu is very limited, sticking to only traditional Pakistani/Punjabi dishes – Karahi and Gosht, with various naan, bhaki and tikka starters. This is probably the key to why it is so amazing as they stick to what they do well and don’t complicate things. But don’t go expecting to see kormas or rogan josh, as that aint going to happen! They also do a different special each night. The tikka dishes come out sizzling and everything I’ve ever eaten there (alot) has been just insanely tender and beautiful. They also have a sweet centre counter where you can stock up on kulfi and jelabi to take home for dessert. Did I mention it’s Bring Your Own Booze? So you can pick up some nice cheap Cobras or wine on route, and save more pennies for food. The staff are effiicient, friendly and despite the chaos of the crowds, always seem to be having a good time with each other too.
[website]

03. The Best Place for Happy Hour

- Franny’s Pop-Up, Frith Street

Sadly, pretty much as soon as I’ve recommended this serious London GEM, I will have to recommend another… as it’s a pop up and is only open until March 12th. Wah! I think I might go and chain myself to the door in protest as it’s my favourite London discovery for absolutely ages. I have to give it a mention because if you haven’t been to scope it out yet you need to cancel all future plans and hurry down. The downstairs is a restaurant and bar, and the upstairs is an amazing art exhibition space. Despite being a pop-up, a huge amount of effort has gone into the cool decor, the branding and the (hate this word!) ambiance. It feels unlike anywhere else I’ve been in Soho, there is a really laid back but buzzy, vibrant feeling.

Oh and did I mention, that during their happy hour that runs until 7pm, they have 50% off cocktails?! That means you can get a cocktail for £3 which is unheard of anywhere, particularly London! And they are serious business cocktails, not any old tat. I had far too many apple martinis and margharitas stacked up at 6pm and it made for a very fun night. I haven’t eaten there but my friend got the piri piri chicken pasta and said it was good, it was a big hefty portion too. Finally, the staff are all swell and super friendly and all in all, this is going to be a tragic loss to Frifth Street. I hope the team behind it open somewhere new, sharpish!
[twitter]

 

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My First… Time Reading at Cringe

August 18, 2010 in First Times | 6 comments

You might have seen me talking about a super secret scary thing recently on twitter. Well, it happened last night and now it is over and I survived without melting into a pool of embarrassed Bee goo, I can talk about it!

I first heard about Cringe just a couple of years ago.  The concept is the brainchild of  the delightful Sarah Brown, and the story goes – The first inklings of Cringe came about back in 2001, when Sarah  found her old diaries at her parents’ house, and decided it would be a good idea to send the most painful excerpts to her friends in a weekly email. Two years later, she moved to Brooklyn and told roommate Liz Schroeter about this endeavor, prompting Liz to dig out some old teenage zines of her own. The first Cringe Reading Night was held April 6, 2005, at Freddy’s Bar & Backroom. Since then, Cringe has traveled around the U.S. and across the ocean as well, and is currently held once a month in London, England.

When I first heard about Cringe I was instantly enamoured. I’ve always been an avid diary keeper, and realise now how precious (and hilarious and mortifying) diaries are to look back on. I’m very glad I didn’t give in to numerous desires to burn the lot of them and that I have painfully hidden and moved them with me to every house I’ve lived in (not easily hidden when they are all bright pink, fluffy and covered in hearts and stars) I think I’ve only recently got to the point where I can see the humour in my angst ridden, painfully detailed 15 year old ramblings. So, I took a deep gulp and when Sarah put a call out for contributors for Augusts Cringe Night in London, I volunteered.

On Sunday I met up with super Susie and did a practise run, choosing which of the many toe-cringingly embarrassing escapades to focus on but despite this planning, I still spent yesterday quaking like a leaf as I’m NOT a performer by any means. If I see a stage I am usually running away from it, and I do not like being in front of a crowd of people I know, let alone strangers, let ALONE reading my most inner thoughts and painful prose. I was suddenly starting to realise that I’d signed myself up for, well, my worst nightmare!

Despite my nerves, I knew that now I’d volunteered I had to really go through with it and that it would make a good blog post to do something massively out of my comfort zone. I didn’t tell anybody except Susie that I was doing it as I really wasn’t ready to share and spill in front of friends or work colleagues and was terrified if word got out, they’d all come along! The night starts at 7.30pm and is in the top venue room of the wonderful George Pub off The Strand. I have to say, I started getting mighty sweaty as more and more and more people crammed in and the room gradually packed out.

The night started off with a few readers who had previously read at Cringe nights and it gave me a chance to see the general tone and style of the content and delivery. The readers were all so witty, so funny and with great delivery skills that it eased me and panicked me in equal measures. It was really fascinating to see the difference between the first volunteer (her 12 year old girl diary about periods, shaving her legs and the pains of not knowing what a wanker was!) and the next volunteer, a guy, who read his diary from a smiliar age (“ate 4 iced buns today”. “went to Gemmas party. It was shit.” “Gran came round. She gave me a quid.” etc!)

So after about 4 readers and a 10 minute interval, just as I thought I would definitely hyperventalate with fear, it was my turn. As soon as I got on stage, the lights meant I could barely see the audience, and this made it much easier to pretend I wasn’t infront of a huge room of strangers! I was amazed how easy it was just to start reading and quickly get into my stride. It helped that the audience were SO receptive, I was getting cheers and claps and awwws and a lo of laughs which was unbelievable as I hadn’t expected that kind of reception to my inane teen traumas!

My time on stage passed quickly and after the initial shock, I really really enjoyed it! It felt great to be able to make everyone laugh and feel everyones mutual mortification at my hideousness – like everyone was really laughing with me, not err at me. I even got the guts to share some horrific song lyrics I wrote about an unrequited crush which I would previously have been sick at the mere thought of my best friend seeing, let alone anyone else. I left the stage feeling like I’d literally just lived through a realy Hollywood movie scenario! After all my fretting and worry; it had gone down so well and I almost felt like I could jump off the stage and crowd surf back to my seat or high-5 everyone as I walked off – because they had been so supportive and lovely. It was such a confidence boost and afterwards lots of people approached me to say how funny they found it and to thank me for reading. Aw!

I would absolutely recommend at least attending a Cringe night, even if you don’t have the material/nerves to read. I think the joy about them is that everyone there can instantly relate to the themes and questions and issues that all the readers diaries cover. It sparks long buried memories and feelings and is just an absolutely feed-good night out. If you can’t treck to London, then you can buy the book inspired by the event for the bargainous £3.50 on Amazon at the moment.

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Ghost Stories

August 8, 2010 in To Do List | 7 comments

As I get older I realise that I probably fall into the category of those with a nervous disposition. I think the mathematical formulae for being this way is:

Control Freak + Over Active Imagination = Easily Terrified

A prime example of this being a few months back when I was living alone in the flat for 3 months and spent the majority of nights sleeping curled on the sofa clutching a kitchen knife, yknow, just in case. But just because I am naturally twitchy and squirmy around all things scary, doesn’t mean I don’t love it. [As demonstrated when I went Ghost Hunting recently!] Obviously I don’t love being awake at 4am because I think I can hear a ghost baby crying in my wardrobe (!) but safer, controlled scary things like movies, books and tv shows I am all for. I think fear is an itch that everyone loves to scratch, but then starts to regret when you’re later laying in bed replaying scary moments and cold sweating.

I’ve actually always been a fan of all things scary from a really young age. I think it’s because both my maternal and paternal grandparents had a collection of phenomenal ghost stories, and out of every story they would regale me with – it was the ones that made goosebumps cover my arms and my spine tingle that I’d beg for over and over. I supposed that as influencers and carers, they should have been reassuring me that ghosts and things that go bump in the night are aload of guff… but I’m grateful they didn’t as those stories are the ones I repeat again to family and friends even now. My sister is three years older than me, and while other girls our age were reading Babysitters Club and Sweet Valley High we were building up the worlds largest collection of Point Horror books and counting down the hours to Michael Aspels Strange But True (oh god! the credits!)

Can you remember the first time you felt real fear? I can remember mine. There was an independent  video shop (the type of which I imagine are almost completely extinct now) that my mum would take us to on a Saturday after swimming, to get a film for that evening. The video shop was called 2001 Videos – HOW scary that ‘2001’ seemed so far in the distant future and as if when it eventually was 2001 we’d be living in space and driving hover cars. Anyway, tangent ahoy, at 2001 Videos we religiously stuck to the kids and cartoons section, occasionally browsing the general releases. At the back by the counter there was the Horror aisle and my sister would always dare me to walk up it. I think I was about 6 when I finally took the bait and waited for my mum to be distracted before taking a deep breath and stepping hesitantly towards the word HORROR. There were two video boxes in particular that were SO frightening, so horrifying and so unlike anything I’d ever seen that they shook me to the core. They were Childs Play and Hellraiser

No matter that we eventually left the shop (with something nice like Care Bears) and that I was back in the comfort of my family home, the fact that I had those terrifying images burnt into my retinas meant I just couldn’t relax and I had nightmares for weeks. From a bloody VHS box! Not even watching the film!

Anyway this is all a bit of a build up to the fact that last week I went to see the INCREDIBLE Ghost Stories at the Duke of York Theatre. The play is written by Andy Nyman - co-creator and director of Derren Brown’s television and stage shows and Jeremy Dyson - League Of Gentleman genius. Their aim in creating Ghost Stories was to bring back some of the classic Victoriana theatre going experience; something creepy, haunting and that could raise a blood curdling scream.

Before going to see Ghost Stories I had avoided reading or googling anything about it (and you should too! Which is also why I promise I wont go into any depth about the content) and so really had no idea what to expect. Approaching the theatre absolutely covered in goading signs saying “Just keep telling yourself its only a show”, “Pant-Wettingly Scary” and “NOT suitable for those with a nervous disposition” (Oh, hi!) I was starting to feel the churn of fear in my belly before I’d even entered. Everything about the theatre experience is designed to put you at un-ease from the second you walk in; from the decor, the darkness of the circle as you find your seat and the well to hell sound effects playing as you sit waiting for it to begin.

I think that Ghost Stories is possibly one of the best pieces of theatre I have seen in my entire life. I just cannot beg you hard enough that you have to go and see it while it’s still running. It will certainly make you scream, question everything and immediately want to book tickets to see it again. (I did, sad!) The acting, set and intricate story are just mindblowing. Just when you think you know what is going on, you realise you have no idea! You are constantly lulled in false senses of security before embarrassing yourself by jumping ten feet in the air and screaming in the face of the person next to you.

Five stars, go see it, go book it now.

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The Day Of Perfect

June 13, 2010 in Day Tripping | 2 comments

Me and my day trip buddies had planned this trip months in advance, picking a day at random and scribbling in our diaries on the train home from the seaside in April. This time we wanted to take our day-trip relationship to the next level. We were ready to commit, we were ready to invest seriously. We were ready for… BENSON! (our street car hire car) We made a shortlist of potential locations and after lots of umming and aahing, Ali came through with Isle of Purbeck in Dorset. As the day approached, England was in a pretty good state of affairs. Blistering heat and glorious sunshine and not a cloud in the sky. Until you reached our day-trip day on the five day forecast for Dorset and the summary was “Chilly, with beefy rainclouds“. Luckily, like with many things (eg. the time bbc weather told me Bestival would have a mini-heatwave. In reality there was a freak storm, followed by a typhoon, followed by people being airlifted to safety from the knee-deep mud…) they were wrong. And thus followed… the day of perfect.

 

 

 

 

 

 After a 3 hour drive and listening to Go West a few more times than necessary, we boarded the ferry that took us from mainland Dorset onto the peninsular . Our first stop was Corfe Castle which is a quaint little chocolate box village with a beautiful ruined old castle sat overlooking it. It’s apparently what Kirrin Island in the Enid Blyton books is based on, which made the fact we climbed up to the top for some jolly wholesome exploring and picnicking even better. Ali had made the most amazing picnic – to make sandwich bread you buy a Tiger loaf, empty out the middle and then fill it with your favourite fillings (more the merrier, I think we had cheese, ham, pickle, tomato, black olive spread & hard boiled egg!) then when you arrive at your munching location you can just slice it and ta-da instant, perfect sandwiches. We had a flask of ice tea and punnets of huge strawberries and raspberries. We met some mountain beasts (ok, brown sheep) and moseyed around the village shops before getting scared because it appears their thing is scarecrows and pretty sinister looking ones at that, with pipe-cleaner glasses. I have an irrational fear of scarecrows and it was beginning to feel like we were in the Wickerman, so made a hasty exit.

 

Isle of Purbeck was enchanting because we kept stumbling across incredible things when we least expected it. For example we pulled into a standard looking Co-op to use the cash point and behind it we found this vintage steam railway that looked straight out of a film set. By now we were getting itchy beach feet and the sun was like nothing else. Total Hawaii weather. We pulled up at a random path that looked sandy and started trekking towards what we hoped was a beach. 20 minutes of walking barefoot on scorching sand, through ferns & forests and past lakes and not seeing a soul… we spotted the sea! And white sands! And… a large angry looking naked man! 

We had managed to locate the ‘famous’ (apparently) nudest beach, and boy was it busy. We had no option really but to skulk along the dunes, trying to keep our eyes on the horizon, but the naked people seemed very keen to run past/towards us and I definitely saw more wobbling male genitalia in that 30 minutes than my entire life up to that point. We paddled past the nakeds and towards a more clothes-friendly part called Shell Bay.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The main aim of daytrips is always to sample the local fish and chips, and we found a place in Swannage that definitely fitted all my requirements called ‘The Fish Plaice” and with a surly 12 year old looking waitress who we had to practically use brute force to get to actually acknowledge our presence and take our order! The fish was lovely but the batter was greas-ee. A chocolate milkshake and OD on tartare sauce helped. Also +points for the 20p bread and butter slices on the side. For pudding? A polystyrene pot of shrimps from a kiosk on the pier, that scared Craig so much that if I chased him with them he screamed a bit.

 

The sun finally set and on route home we stopped at a pub in Wareham to laze in their beer garden and eat homemade Dorset apple pie with cornish clotted cream. Even the 4 hour journey home (big bad motorway accident, boo) and then the fact I missed my last tube and had to stomp my sandy feet through the mean streets of Bow at 11.30pm couldn’t wipe the fresh-air smile off my face. The phrase ‘staycation’ used to filll me uncertainty, but I really doubt you could find prettier places across the whole of Europe as the Isle of Purbeck. I’m sure we only scraped the surface and I’m already plotting my return.

We only have one more day-trip of the summer left, before Ali abandons us for a life of Fika and Ikea homeware in Sweden in August, so any location recommendations welcome.

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Hunting Ghosts

May 12, 2010 in Day Tripping, Ghosts | 4 comments

Lately I needed to plan a special surprise for someone I had already used up all my best ideas on the previous birthdays, festive times and other celebrations and was totally STUCK. I thought about our shared interests and settled on ghosts, scary things, being scared… things that go bump in the night. I thought about ghost walks in creaky old towns or spending the night at a haunted inn. Then I stumbled across Dusk Till Dawn Events and it was a no brainer. The description was vague: 8.30pm – 4am in an allegedly very haunted stately home (now museum) Bolling Hall doing all manners of ghost hunting. A few clicks and gulp when I entered my visa details and we were booked on….. and then I started to get THE FEAR. I have to admit to a few sleepless nights running up to the event on Saturday, as I have been known to get so scared in my own flat that I’ve slept in the bath (why that is somehow safer I dont know?)

We rocked up at 8.30pm and were met by an instantly smiley, bubbly girl Jo – our host for the evening - who showed us to our base room the room where we could return any time for teas, coffees, biscuits and inbetween vigials to gossip about what we’d seen and heard.  The fact the base room had severed deer and boar heads on the wall… well, just slightly un-nerving. But hey at least they weren’t the heads of previous ghost hunters who met sticky ends.

There were about 25 other people on the ghost hunt, mostly fellow newbies to the whole thing. Various ages, backgrounds and from all over the UK but all equally friendly. Jo was joined by Joanne, our medium for the night. I instantly warmed to her as she was quick to alliviate any silly fears that had prickled my brain  eg. NO a spirit will not follow you home, NO you will not be possessed, NO the idea is not for you to spend the night so paralysed with fear that you cannot enjoy yourself! She also educated us on the difference between Residual Hauntings (where a ghost is played over and over almost like a video projection) and Intellegent Spirits who are aware of the living world and therefore can communicate – through noise, moving objects etc. The first spooky moment of the night happened when Joanne was mid explanation of Residual Spirits and said …so they definitely cannot communicate with you which was promptly followed by a large, rattling knock, knock that exploded into the hall! Cue lots of nervous laughter and a sign that we were in for a very active night. After our introduction a nice chap from the Bolling Hall staff team gave us a tour of the museum, including usually closed to the public areas – making a museum geek like me very chuffed.

Rather than dry historical facts he told us tale after about the ghosts and spirits that were reported in each room through history, along with a few first hand sightings and recent reports by staff and local dog walkers! It was about an hour long and definitely geared us up to hunt out some of the nicer sounding ghouls (the 8ft tall angry Victorian man with a huge butchers knife however, I was very much hoping not to bump into..)

We then were given various ghost hunting tools (dousing rods, temperature gages, laser guns, electronic frequency recorders, crystals…) and allowed to scamper off on our own in pitch black museum with just our torches for company. I definitely got some interesting readings and close encounters with things that then turned out to be part of the museum decour (stuffed dogs?!) . This was followed by three hours of vigils. We went into various rooms where for an hour Joanne or Jo would attempt to contact the spirits and encourage them to communicate. The scariest of these was in the Red Room where mid vigil, the door FLEW open and I had a real scooby doo moment of jumping on whoever was closest! There was also a huge amount of knocks, flickering lights and spooky goings on.. and just a few “WHAT WAS THAT?!” … “Sorry, just my belly grumbling” to lighten the mood.

After the vigils there was just another hour left to go off using the hunting equipment again and then it was home at 4am where I had the best nights sleep of my life (no bumps in the night followed me home obviously!)

I would absolutely recommend this experience to anyone. I had previously thought I might be paralysed with fear and unable to even get in the building. But actually it was just really interesting and exciting and only a tiny bit good-scary. The staff make you feel so comfortable that you just relax and throw yourself into it Ghostbuster style! Running around an empty museum at 3am is going to be a novel experience to anyone anyway, and the added creaks and knocks and eerie goings on just added to it. I wouldn’t say it has made me come away more of a believer or more of a sceptic… just feeling a little bit smug with my own bravery and desperate to go on another one.

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Paper Aeroplanes

April 14, 2010 in Music | 1 comment

About five years ago now, a friend made me a mix CD. And somewhere lurking at the very end was a track called Linen by a band called Halflight. It was the most beautiful song I had heard for years, and it quickly became #1 on my itunes most played list. It carried me through lonely Leeds winters and was like a hidden gem, shared and whispered between friends and family that I made future mix CDs for and always put this track first. I never really investigated anymore about the haunting voice behind the song and it just existed like a single perfect entity. And then something happened. My prehistoric desktop computer died after five years of moving house more often than getting a hair cut and being dropped in puddles on numerous occasions in the process (!) and with it my entire itunes and my music folder vanished.

Now it is 2010 and I am a different girl in a different place, and when lurking in the ailes of Rough Trade my eyes glinted at the site of the record artwork above. The photography was so breath-taking that I just had to know more (& I know, I know… never judge a book by it’s cover etc). A few clicks of spotify later and Paper Aeroplanes were lilting out of my monster headphones. After a couple of tracks I began to get that hot itchy feeling of recognising something but not knowing where from. Cogs in my brain whirred and the frustration nagged at me until I had the ! moment when I finally dredged the information from the back of my brain. The voice was the same as the one I had been completely enchanted by on the track Linen. From the very little information I could surf on the net, I could confirm that Paper Aeroplanes are indeed Halflight, with a fantastic new name!

It just seemed so odd that this band have suddenly made a comeback into my life, and through such a random discovery of just completely adoring the artwork on a random sleeve. I think this band are my soulmate? Or something! Even down to the fact that spiffy singer Sarah Howells wearing a dress on the cover that I used to own in bottle green but ripped beyond repair on a deserted-building break in (in the name of photography, not robbery. Honest guv)

Paper Aeroplanes are the most exciting musical discovery I have made this year. It makes it even sweeter that they are UK based and therefore hopefully easily enough to track down and see live sharpish! They have quickly become the soundtrack to my summer, my age and everything that is happening right now. Anyway luckily for me, aside from some amazing EPs and bits and pieces floating around, they have just released a whole entire new album called The Day We Ran Into The Sea which I have been gorging on. My favourite tracks are Lifelight and Newport Beach. Coming from Wales means the themes in the music are beaches, and love, and they are relatable. It makes a change from the American and Australian domination in my playlists. And my ultimate favourite track is Dance All Night which I cannot imagine ever tiring of. Although it is an up-tempo, chirpy number that will have you swaying your hips, the lyrics so accurately describe that heartbreak of clashing and grating against someone you love and it’s just unbearable. Sarah’s voice is just so absolutely sincere and everytime I hear this track, my heart cracks a little bit.

But I’d go dancing every night, if it made everything alright

Do you think that we’d still fight? When we’re dancing, dancing.

Because everything’s not black and white, when we’re dancing every night.

Maybe we’d forget to fight,? When we’re dancing, dancing.

I can’t wait to own a physical copy of this CD as soon as I have some pennies in the bank. The lack of information about them on the internet makes me frown and worry they aren’t getting the hype or recognition they deserve? Which would be tragic.

You can listen here
You can buy here

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Lars & The Real Girl (Is Real Good)

April 14, 2010 in Movies | 3 comments

When it comes to this film, I was a complete idiot. I let my phobia of internet-order dolls (ew!) allow me to write it off as something that was probably, definitely,  not enjoy one bit. Add to this fact that until now Ryan Gosling had left me feeling a bit queasy (see: The Notebook) and it slid off the radar. Then my partner in Lovefilm crime added it to our list and it plopped onto my doormat and into the DVD player and WOW.

I think it is instantly in my top 10 films (don’t ask me for the other 9, or you will still be listening to me bleating on while your hair is slowly turning grey and skin wrinkling) so I just wanted to encourage you to get it on your amazon wishlist if you haven’t seen it yet.

The real miracle of this movie is how on earth do you make a film about a life-sized love doll, ordered from a shady internet sex site, into a life-affirming statement of promise and hope that all is good in the world?!  I think the answer is that the film is completely sincere, which is just so rare nowadays. The entire cast are incredibly believable and quickly you feel almost part of the community in the small mid-west American town – faced with the same questions and initial fears which slowly dissolve with the story as you get to know the character of Lars. It is definitely a film that haunts you long after the credits roll, pestering you to question your attitudes and judgements. Other amazing things about the movie are: Ryan Goslings wardobe! Hot! Ski jackets, cords, gaudy knitted jumpers and bad moustache are the best.

I don’t know if the director is perhaps a fan of this film, but the concept and scenario reminded me of Harvey the 1950s movie about an enchanting alcoholic Elwood, who believes he is accompanied though life by an invisible 6ft rabbit. I think Elwood is my idol, everyone could do with living life more like him (apart from the raging booze habit part…) This quote just about sums it up and always makes me smile.

Years ago my mother used to say to me, she’d say, “In this world, Elwood, you must be” – she always called me Elwood – “In this world, Elwood, you must be oh so smart or oh so pleasant.” Well, for years I was smart. I recommend pleasant. You may quote me.

(This is probably also in my top 10 movies,  fyi!)

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