Huzzah! Perhaps my endemic pessimism has been misplaced once more?! Having had the weekend off exercise yet again, I decided to go out for a bit of a run tonight on flatter ground than I've been used to, if only so I could cover more distance. It gets a bit boring doing the same route time after time as well, so I decided to run up to Clapham Common via the delights of Kings Avenue & the South Circular, do a lap with all the hardcore joggers, and head back to Brixton through the back streets.
It's a route I followed many times whilst training for the Reading Half marathon last year, and it was nice to be back. I went out reasonably quickly but was struggling badly by the time I got to the turn for home at the top of Battersea Rise - the remaining minutes were spent doing a weird kind of "50s dance move" action with my legs as I tried to struggle home.
I'd mapped out the run on Nike's website before I left, so knew it was about 9.9km - in fact, as I have just discovered, it was actually 10.1km due to my meandering attempts to cross Brixton Hill during rush hour traffic. Ignoring the fact that my woefully inaccurate Nikeplus chip chose to knock a full 1.2km of the distance it reckons I ran - over 10 PERCENT of my total distance - I'm focusing instead on the time.
50 minutes 37 seconds. For a full 10k! Wahoo! My aim for the race in two weeks was to try and better my fastest ever run, which was 51.11 in my first ever 10k (almost 5 years ago - shudder). I'd sort of given up on it though, as my training has been disjointed, not unlike my knees. I figured get round, and try and sign up for another one towards the end of the summer when I've new trainers and no shin splints.
But maybe. Just maybe. I can do it!
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
Monday, June 27, 2011
.....ah, forget it, I've no energy to think of a title
I write this with some difficulty, given my arm is stuck to the computer desk. I think it may have melted. After no summer to speak of so far, Mother Nature appears to have accidentally leaned against the thermostat after one too many sherries and south London has turned tropical.
We were promised a thunderstorm to dispel this two-day heatwave, but it has yet to arrive. It's pretty damn unbearable, made all the worse by my aversion to mosquitoes (or rather, their attraction to me). I'm too scared of getting exposed wobbly bits munched during the night to leave the window open.
The British 10K is in less than two weeks, but I've not done any training since Thursday. I was supposed to go tonight, but any thoughts of bettering my fastest time are pretty much done and dusted for another event, and I'm buggered if I'm risking heat exhaustion by trudging round the park in this weather. In more exciting run-related news, I have progressed to the point of emailing Runners Need to find out if I can just rock up to get some gait analysis done and finally, after 5 years, buy the right trainers. I also got an email from New York Road Runners this evening offering me some discount merchandise - although quite why they feel I need a "skort" is anyone's guess. Perhaps they've heard about my tendency to accidentally purchase women's sportswear, which has seen me return home over the years with a tennis skirt from 'Style 'N' Sport' in Ballymena (thought it was a pair of swimming shorts - in the 90s both were fashioned from the same acryllic shell suit material) and some ladies running shorts (in the wrong section in TK Maxx a few weeks ago; I didn't check the label, except to see the word 'large').
We were promised a thunderstorm to dispel this two-day heatwave, but it has yet to arrive. It's pretty damn unbearable, made all the worse by my aversion to mosquitoes (or rather, their attraction to me). I'm too scared of getting exposed wobbly bits munched during the night to leave the window open.
The British 10K is in less than two weeks, but I've not done any training since Thursday. I was supposed to go tonight, but any thoughts of bettering my fastest time are pretty much done and dusted for another event, and I'm buggered if I'm risking heat exhaustion by trudging round the park in this weather. In more exciting run-related news, I have progressed to the point of emailing Runners Need to find out if I can just rock up to get some gait analysis done and finally, after 5 years, buy the right trainers. I also got an email from New York Road Runners this evening offering me some discount merchandise - although quite why they feel I need a "skort" is anyone's guess. Perhaps they've heard about my tendency to accidentally purchase women's sportswear, which has seen me return home over the years with a tennis skirt from 'Style 'N' Sport' in Ballymena (thought it was a pair of swimming shorts - in the 90s both were fashioned from the same acryllic shell suit material) and some ladies running shorts (in the wrong section in TK Maxx a few weeks ago; I didn't check the label, except to see the word 'large').
Sunday, June 26, 2011
We've escaped the city for the weekend and I'm writing this in the sunshine outside my sister's house in the Cotswolds. A lamb roast is in the oven, as we await the return of her husband Chris from sheep-shearing duty. In the absence of tractors or landrovers coming up the lane, the scene makes me feel like we've gone back in time to the 18th century - half expecting a horse-drawn hay cart to appear around the corner at any moment.
Nostalgia for this time last year is in full effect - 365 days ago we were recovering from our pre-rally leaving party at the Prince Albert, and had just booked our tickets home from Ulaanbaatar. Am insanely jealous of everyone heading east in a couple of weeks, even moreso as they're launching from Horse Guards Parade this year, rather than Woburn Safari Park. Who knows, we might even have turned up on time if we'd left from central London!
Nostalgia for this time last year is in full effect - 365 days ago we were recovering from our pre-rally leaving party at the Prince Albert, and had just booked our tickets home from Ulaanbaatar. Am insanely jealous of everyone heading east in a couple of weeks, even moreso as they're launching from Horse Guards Parade this year, rather than Woburn Safari Park. Who knows, we might even have turned up on time if we'd left from central London!
Monday, June 20, 2011
Off my Feis
Right - first things first - the Supajam offer was entirely genuine and we got in to the Feis on Saturday with absolutely no trouble. Fair play to them - considering there were allegedly 500 tickets, the queue we were in had what appeared to be a couple of thousand in it by the time we arrived. But they didn't seem to be arguing - my friend's bar code had apparently 'already been used', but his name matched the barcode so in he came.
The event itself was enjoyable enough, from what I remember. The rain was sporadic, the food was tasty, the bands were enthusiastic and the people were friendly. I suppose it's somewhat inevitable that at a festival which is essentially 40,000 Irish people in a confined space, some drink would also be taken.
It's pretty clear I overdid it, even if I don't know exactly how it happened. Suffice to say I returned to my concerned girlfriend several hours behind schedule, having done a few laps of central London, and spent yesterday suffering through the hangover from hell. Chuck in a horrendous night's sleep last night, and at work today I was rough, sweaty and miserable, staring at my computer screen and barely uttering a word.
Tonight when I got home, I still had a sense of being drained, but alongside it was a weird recollection that this is what my Mondays always used to feel like. Waking up with "The Fear" on a Sunday morning; tossing and turning on a Sunday night; tolerating work on a Monday and resolving not to drink until at least the weekend again.
I don't know when it happened, but this isn't me any more. And this evening, I am incredibly grateful for that. The weekend served as a timely reminder of how life used to be, before I calmed down and grew up (a bit). I still get drunk regularly - I'm no poster boy for a healthy lifestyle - and I thought I still feel rough most weekends. I now realise I don't - I've just adjusted my tolerance levels in light of my reduced wastery.
So, in hindsight, thanks Supajam, for reminding me that I no longer want to be a pisshead stumbling round London after an all day drinking session. Or, for that matter, forking out £35 in a taxi ride home after a couple of fruitless attempts to negotiate public transport ended in fiasco. Every cloud, and all that...
The event itself was enjoyable enough, from what I remember. The rain was sporadic, the food was tasty, the bands were enthusiastic and the people were friendly. I suppose it's somewhat inevitable that at a festival which is essentially 40,000 Irish people in a confined space, some drink would also be taken.
It's pretty clear I overdid it, even if I don't know exactly how it happened. Suffice to say I returned to my concerned girlfriend several hours behind schedule, having done a few laps of central London, and spent yesterday suffering through the hangover from hell. Chuck in a horrendous night's sleep last night, and at work today I was rough, sweaty and miserable, staring at my computer screen and barely uttering a word.
Tonight when I got home, I still had a sense of being drained, but alongside it was a weird recollection that this is what my Mondays always used to feel like. Waking up with "The Fear" on a Sunday morning; tossing and turning on a Sunday night; tolerating work on a Monday and resolving not to drink until at least the weekend again.
I don't know when it happened, but this isn't me any more. And this evening, I am incredibly grateful for that. The weekend served as a timely reminder of how life used to be, before I calmed down and grew up (a bit). I still get drunk regularly - I'm no poster boy for a healthy lifestyle - and I thought I still feel rough most weekends. I now realise I don't - I've just adjusted my tolerance levels in light of my reduced wastery.
So, in hindsight, thanks Supajam, for reminding me that I no longer want to be a pisshead stumbling round London after an all day drinking session. Or, for that matter, forking out £35 in a taxi ride home after a couple of fruitless attempts to negotiate public transport ended in fiasco. Every cloud, and all that...
Saturday, June 18, 2011
We're in!
Cowering from the rain behind an ice cream van listening, aptly, to the Waterboys. Thanks Supajam! Less than an hour to get in. Now revelling in Irishness with several thousand countrymen
At the back of a very long queue
It seems the whole of London was the lucky winner of a Supajam ticket
London Feis
It's raining heavily on and off; the wind is battering the branches of the tree in the back garden off our bedroom window; I'm nursing a gentle hangover - all the ingredients of an Irish June afternoon, and therefore fitting that the London Feis is taking place in Finsbury park this weekend.
Time to test the Supajam free ticket offer. I received an email from them during the week confirming I had the ticket but necessitating download of a barcoded version instead, to present at the box office today. No problem. They also asked for an admin fee which they apparently forgot to request at the time I got the ticket. If I was feeling generous, I could pay the admin fee when downloading the new ticket. This may go a little way towards explaining the 'too good to be true' offer of a free £70 ticket - in that it was too good to be true. Supajam held their hands up though, and didn't 'force' anyone to pay the fee - no doubt realising what a PR disaster that might prove, especially (given the amount of hits I've had on the blog through "Supajam scam" keyword searches) that people don't entirely believe they're above board.
I'm leaving in about 20 minutes to head up to north London - will try and post to the blog if and when I'm "in". Although given O2's less than amazing performance at mass participation events, I probably won't have a signal. Can't guarantee I'll stay until the end - it's currently a toss up between Bob Dylan and avoiding pneumonia, unless the weather improves.
In tribute to the afternoon's entertainment, here's my favourite song from the day's headliner....
Saturday, June 11, 2011
Steppe By Steppe - the blog
A mere 11 months after leaving for Mongolia; only 10 after arriving in Ulaanbaataar, I have finally begun blogging about our adventure.
I was able to post limited messages from the road via SMS to the official charity website whilst we were away; I've always intended to flesh out the story in greater detail so that when I'm old and doddery, I can look back and remind myself that we actually did it.
As we approach the anniversary of departure, and try to quell the frustration and jealousy of not being involved this year, it seemed appropriate to finally commit what memories remain to type.
It's over at http://steppe-by-steppe.blogspot.com - I'm chucking on the build up at the moment so there is a lot of posting going on. Eventually, as I inevitably get less productive, I expect to add an update every few days or so. I think I can repost the entries to here, so will do so if I think it's worth reading.
The idea of the Steppe by Steppe blog is to bring together memories, photos, music and anything else that is significant of our 5 week road trip, so that in years to come we can look back and go "oooh" - who knows, maybe someone might even come across it when they're considering doing something similar, and realise that you don't have to be particularly capable to do so.
I was able to post limited messages from the road via SMS to the official charity website whilst we were away; I've always intended to flesh out the story in greater detail so that when I'm old and doddery, I can look back and remind myself that we actually did it.
As we approach the anniversary of departure, and try to quell the frustration and jealousy of not being involved this year, it seemed appropriate to finally commit what memories remain to type.
It's over at http://steppe-by-steppe.blogspot.com - I'm chucking on the build up at the moment so there is a lot of posting going on. Eventually, as I inevitably get less productive, I expect to add an update every few days or so. I think I can repost the entries to here, so will do so if I think it's worth reading.
The idea of the Steppe by Steppe blog is to bring together memories, photos, music and anything else that is significant of our 5 week road trip, so that in years to come we can look back and go "oooh" - who knows, maybe someone might even come across it when they're considering doing something similar, and realise that you don't have to be particularly capable to do so.
And as suddenly as they began...
...the views of my photos on have Flickr ceased....
Guess I'll never know what was directing people to the two Pepsi sign photos. Bit disappointed they stopped just short of 1,000 views though.
Guess I'll never know what was directing people to the two Pepsi sign photos. Bit disappointed they stopped just short of 1,000 views though.
Wednesday, June 08, 2011
Mum's on a road trip
Yep, as we speak, my mum is in the sleepy Spanish town of Loja, in Granada - halfway through a road trip from Alicante on the west coast of Spain, to the Algarve on Portugal's south coast.
I got a text from her this evening saying that they had stopped at a basic but comfortable hotel because they were knackered from driving all day; the next plan was to get some food in the restaurant and have a drink.
I smiled when I read it - it took me back to last summer, as those were exactly the sorts of updates I was sending back home from the Ukraine, Kazakhstan and Russia. Less so Mongolia - it was more about "we've randomly stopped behind a bush and popped open the tent for the night" when we reached there.
Driving takes it out of you - more so than you'd realise before setting off on a long, multi-day journey. There was truly nothing better than seeing a hotel in the distance just as dusk was beginning to fall, getting a room and being able to relax, eat whatever indeterminate dish they had available in the restaurant, have a beer, and sleep in a decent bed for the night. I can imagine exactly how mum feels at the moment - especially as Loja seems to be a very pretty town and one that, no doubt, she would never have visited but for this slightly barmy adventure to surprise some friends who are on holiday in Portugal. Nothing beats just experiencing strange and unknown places by chance.
I got a text from her this evening saying that they had stopped at a basic but comfortable hotel because they were knackered from driving all day; the next plan was to get some food in the restaurant and have a drink.
I smiled when I read it - it took me back to last summer, as those were exactly the sorts of updates I was sending back home from the Ukraine, Kazakhstan and Russia. Less so Mongolia - it was more about "we've randomly stopped behind a bush and popped open the tent for the night" when we reached there.
Driving takes it out of you - more so than you'd realise before setting off on a long, multi-day journey. There was truly nothing better than seeing a hotel in the distance just as dusk was beginning to fall, getting a room and being able to relax, eat whatever indeterminate dish they had available in the restaurant, have a beer, and sleep in a decent bed for the night. I can imagine exactly how mum feels at the moment - especially as Loja seems to be a very pretty town and one that, no doubt, she would never have visited but for this slightly barmy adventure to surprise some friends who are on holiday in Portugal. Nothing beats just experiencing strange and unknown places by chance.
Token running post
Finally got back out for a run tonight, and it wasn't as bad as feared, in that my shin didn't splinter into a million pieces as I trudged up a hill.
The time wasn't actually too bad, and I don't appear to be in any more pain afterwards than I was before I started. Maybe I'll be ok for the 10K after all....
Even the dumbass middle aged munter who tried to run me off the path in the park by pointing her bike directly at me (despite there being no one else near us) couldn't ruin my mood - I was annoyed to begin with as she quite clearly did it on purpose for reasons best known to herself, but later on took on a more philosophical bent. What's the point in making myself irate over something so bizarre? Certainly not going to change anything and won't get my own back on her either. If only I could be so level headed all of the time, let alone at the moment as I wean myself off nicotine. Well done me.
The time wasn't actually too bad, and I don't appear to be in any more pain afterwards than I was before I started. Maybe I'll be ok for the 10K after all....
Even the dumbass middle aged munter who tried to run me off the path in the park by pointing her bike directly at me (despite there being no one else near us) couldn't ruin my mood - I was annoyed to begin with as she quite clearly did it on purpose for reasons best known to herself, but later on took on a more philosophical bent. What's the point in making myself irate over something so bizarre? Certainly not going to change anything and won't get my own back on her either. If only I could be so level headed all of the time, let alone at the moment as I wean myself off nicotine. Well done me.
Tuesday, June 07, 2011
Running update
Was gonna go for a run tonight to test out my wonky shin. Ended up having a couple of pints in the Regent on the way home instead. Best to rest the leg for a bit longer I think. Can't be too careful.
Monday, June 06, 2011
Put my feet where my mouth is
As it were.
I've just been idly clicking on the 'next blog' link (at the top of the screen if you cast your eyes upwards) to see who my neighbours are on Blogger. It appears that in the years that have elapsed since I last tried this, Blogger has somehow worked out a way of categorising the sites, and they have me down as a runner with a passing interest in New York. This is all well and good, save for the general lack of running-related posts these days and the fact I've spent a total of 8 days in NYC, albeit I'll be banging on about it for years to come.
Anyway, I should probably subject you to more tales of bunions and fartlek training in the future for fear of being outed as a fraud - or worse, a 'jogger'.
By way of introduction, here's a picture of all the training I haven't done in the past week:
I've just been idly clicking on the 'next blog' link (at the top of the screen if you cast your eyes upwards) to see who my neighbours are on Blogger. It appears that in the years that have elapsed since I last tried this, Blogger has somehow worked out a way of categorising the sites, and they have me down as a runner with a passing interest in New York. This is all well and good, save for the general lack of running-related posts these days and the fact I've spent a total of 8 days in NYC, albeit I'll be banging on about it for years to come.
Anyway, I should probably subject you to more tales of bunions and fartlek training in the future for fear of being outed as a fraud - or worse, a 'jogger'.
By way of introduction, here's a picture of all the training I haven't done in the past week:
Supajam part two
I've noticed a lot of traffic coming to the blog trying to establish whether or not Supajam is a scam - as I alluded to in my earlier post, I don't think it is, albeit I'm not 100% convinced that there'll be as many tickets as 'ticket holders' should everyone decide to rock up en masse on the 18th of June.
For what it's worth, and given a further fortnight's reflection, I can't really see what they would have to gain by offering completely non-existent "free" tickets to a festival. If they'd been flogging them for, say 50% of face value and then scarpering with the money that's one thing - but I've done nothing more than give them my email address and name. I give that to hundreds of websites a year and don't harbour too many concerns for the consequences.
I haven't changed my opinion that the worst outcome from the whole thing would be getting up early on the 18th to drag my sorry carcass from south London up to Finsbury Park, only to discover there is no ticket. What have I lost? 45 minutes of my life? You might even say that I'll have added some time to my life, given I'm normally still bumbling about in my pants at 1pm most Saturdays. The flip side is that, if it turns out to be true, I get £70-worth of Bob Dylan et al for bugger all. That has to be a chance worth taking, surely?*
Edit @ 22:05 - just noticed that the latest Supajam offer is discount tickets to Hop Farm, at £100 a pop, which somewhat negates my point in the 2nd paragraph. But the Feis tickets are free, therefore no risk as far as I can tell.
*NB - unless I post about it, assume I slept in / "couldn't be arsed going the whole way up to north London" when it actually came to the crunch, and am therefore unable to confirm if a lonely unclaimed ticket did, in fact, have my name on it.
For what it's worth, and given a further fortnight's reflection, I can't really see what they would have to gain by offering completely non-existent "free" tickets to a festival. If they'd been flogging them for, say 50% of face value and then scarpering with the money that's one thing - but I've done nothing more than give them my email address and name. I give that to hundreds of websites a year and don't harbour too many concerns for the consequences.
I haven't changed my opinion that the worst outcome from the whole thing would be getting up early on the 18th to drag my sorry carcass from south London up to Finsbury Park, only to discover there is no ticket. What have I lost? 45 minutes of my life? You might even say that I'll have added some time to my life, given I'm normally still bumbling about in my pants at 1pm most Saturdays. The flip side is that, if it turns out to be true, I get £70-worth of Bob Dylan et al for bugger all. That has to be a chance worth taking, surely?*
Edit @ 22:05 - just noticed that the latest Supajam offer is discount tickets to Hop Farm, at £100 a pop, which somewhat negates my point in the 2nd paragraph. But the Feis tickets are free, therefore no risk as far as I can tell.
*NB - unless I post about it, assume I slept in / "couldn't be arsed going the whole way up to north London" when it actually came to the crunch, and am therefore unable to confirm if a lonely unclaimed ticket did, in fact, have my name on it.
Wonderlust King
Have I posted this before? I make no apologies for sticking it up here again, if so. It seems odd that I wouldn't have already shared it - my favourite band, one of their best songs and part of the official soundtrack to our trip to Ulan Bator last summer - not to mention being an inspiration for getting off my arse and seeing a bit of the world in the first place.
Admittedly the official Steppe by Steppe soundtrack only consisted of 5 Gogol Bordello CDs, the Mumford & Sons album and a compilation that J's mate and her boyfriend had made for us, due to a massive planning error on my part. In fear of having my favourite CDs scratched, nicked or melted in whatever awaited us beyond the boundaries of the Latin alphabet, I wanted to take copies of the albums deemed worthy with us instead. As it was, I ran out of time - not only to choose the music or make the copies, but even to grab anything as we flew out the door, already late for the launch of the rally.
Gogol Bordello was, therefore, starting to get a little 'samey' even before we had left the EU and were lurching L'viv-wards. I just love this music though, as borne out by the 5 times I've been to see GB in concert, and to be experiencing the motherland of Eugene Hütz as he belted his Gypsy Punk through the Kangoo's speakers just made it all the better. Not that he'd probably allow me to call the Ukraine his motherland - with his Romany heritage I guess it's a lot more complicated than just being born somewhere.
Admittedly the official Steppe by Steppe soundtrack only consisted of 5 Gogol Bordello CDs, the Mumford & Sons album and a compilation that J's mate and her boyfriend had made for us, due to a massive planning error on my part. In fear of having my favourite CDs scratched, nicked or melted in whatever awaited us beyond the boundaries of the Latin alphabet, I wanted to take copies of the albums deemed worthy with us instead. As it was, I ran out of time - not only to choose the music or make the copies, but even to grab anything as we flew out the door, already late for the launch of the rally.
Gogol Bordello was, therefore, starting to get a little 'samey' even before we had left the EU and were lurching L'viv-wards. I just love this music though, as borne out by the 5 times I've been to see GB in concert, and to be experiencing the motherland of Eugene Hütz as he belted his Gypsy Punk through the Kangoo's speakers just made it all the better. Not that he'd probably allow me to call the Ukraine his motherland - with his Romany heritage I guess it's a lot more complicated than just being born somewhere.
900 up
I promised something epic for my 900th post to the blog, but after 5 days spent not writing anything because it seemed inadequate, I looked back through previous significant milestones and discovered that I've pretty much failed to acknowledge 800, 700 or 600 either. Pressure off, then. Maybe I'll time my new-found productivity to coincide post 1000 with the Queen's Diamond Jubilee this time next year.
In running news, I've got about 5 weeks until the British 10K - the latest run I've targeted to try and get a PB in. Alas, I ignored the health warning on the training plan I was using and launched myself into week 5 of 12 from the off (given time constraints when I began a fortnight ago). Four runs in 5 days later, I've given myself shin splints which even an easy week last week hasn't cured.
I'm feeling a bit tetchy sitting here when I want to be out getting fit and healthy, but there's no point going if my shin doesn't recover. I'm not having 5 weeks of pain just for the sake of a jog round central London.
It might finally persuade me to retire my old trainers and get some properly fitted ones, 4.5 years after starting running. Or I may just keep repeatedly mentioning it and failing to do anything about it.
In running news, I've got about 5 weeks until the British 10K - the latest run I've targeted to try and get a PB in. Alas, I ignored the health warning on the training plan I was using and launched myself into week 5 of 12 from the off (given time constraints when I began a fortnight ago). Four runs in 5 days later, I've given myself shin splints which even an easy week last week hasn't cured.
I'm feeling a bit tetchy sitting here when I want to be out getting fit and healthy, but there's no point going if my shin doesn't recover. I'm not having 5 weeks of pain just for the sake of a jog round central London.
It might finally persuade me to retire my old trainers and get some properly fitted ones, 4.5 years after starting running. Or I may just keep repeatedly mentioning it and failing to do anything about it.
Wednesday, June 01, 2011
привет!
Ever wondered what our friends in Russia see when they log on to this very site? Of course you have.
The sight of Cyrillic takes me back to last summer, as we bumped and juddered through Ukraine, Russia, Kazakhstan & Mongolia. In particular, the "Who am I" section in the top left - translated to "Кто я?" - reminds me of the song that sound-tracked our first few minutes in Siberia, having just crossed over the border from Kazakhstan.
A deep orange sun was setting, we were out of Kazakhstan (kind of cause for celebration in itself), and we were not only back in Russia - the country that surprised us most on the entire trip - but in that mythical, infamous faraway land of Siberia. Our Russian dance CD, purchased in an Astana shopping mall, was blasting on the Kangoo's stereo..... This was the best song on it, and the video's a far slicker affair than many - or at least I - would have given the Russian pop music industry credit for before I travelled east.
This, by the way, is my 899th post on the blog. Expect the written equivalent of Wills & Kate's wedding celebrations by way of my next update. Cheers for sticking with it through the lean times, of both quality and post regularity (if, indeed, you have - if you're some sort of automated spam bot, feck off).
The sight of Cyrillic takes me back to last summer, as we bumped and juddered through Ukraine, Russia, Kazakhstan & Mongolia. In particular, the "Who am I" section in the top left - translated to "Кто я?" - reminds me of the song that sound-tracked our first few minutes in Siberia, having just crossed over the border from Kazakhstan.
A deep orange sun was setting, we were out of Kazakhstan (kind of cause for celebration in itself), and we were not only back in Russia - the country that surprised us most on the entire trip - but in that mythical, infamous faraway land of Siberia. Our Russian dance CD, purchased in an Astana shopping mall, was blasting on the Kangoo's stereo..... This was the best song on it, and the video's a far slicker affair than many - or at least I - would have given the Russian pop music industry credit for before I travelled east.
This, by the way, is my 899th post on the blog. Expect the written equivalent of Wills & Kate's wedding celebrations by way of my next update. Cheers for sticking with it through the lean times, of both quality and post regularity (if, indeed, you have - if you're some sort of automated spam bot, feck off).
Wrong again
So, turns out I conformed to stereotype once again last night, jumping to a pessimistic conclusion that I hadn't 'won' any Olympic tickets when there was still a full hour for the money to leave my account.
Admittedly, it wasn't so much negativity as a general inability to grasp basic tenets of timing - something I excelled at in New York, whether dragging everyone out of bed to get to a pub at 9am on a Saturday morning to watch my team play rugby (the game was actually on Sunday), or planning our entire trip around a Monday evening return flight to London (only when I went to check in online on Monday morning did I discover we had a 'free' extra day in the Big Apple...).
Yep, when my weekly text message from my bank arrived this morning, it confirmed that I have in fact been successful in my application for 25% of the tickets I applied for. I can't work out if this is a decent return or not - I had tried to offset the fact I was only going for the cheapest tickets by choosing events I figured wouldn't be as popular as others. I'm just happy to have any.
So it is, I wait with baited breath to find out where & when we will grab our own little slice of Olympic magic. The opening ceremony's out, due to the amount debited from the account; that leaves Men's Handball, Women's Volleyball (both Polish specialities apparently, in the notable absence of Ski Jumping from the summer programme), or - dare I dream - an entire morning in the Olympic Stadium itself, watching the opening heats of the Men's 100m. Bring on the confirmation on the 24th of June so I can start reading up on the rules of Handball.
Admittedly, it wasn't so much negativity as a general inability to grasp basic tenets of timing - something I excelled at in New York, whether dragging everyone out of bed to get to a pub at 9am on a Saturday morning to watch my team play rugby (the game was actually on Sunday), or planning our entire trip around a Monday evening return flight to London (only when I went to check in online on Monday morning did I discover we had a 'free' extra day in the Big Apple...).
Yep, when my weekly text message from my bank arrived this morning, it confirmed that I have in fact been successful in my application for 25% of the tickets I applied for. I can't work out if this is a decent return or not - I had tried to offset the fact I was only going for the cheapest tickets by choosing events I figured wouldn't be as popular as others. I'm just happy to have any.
So it is, I wait with baited breath to find out where & when we will grab our own little slice of Olympic magic. The opening ceremony's out, due to the amount debited from the account; that leaves Men's Handball, Women's Volleyball (both Polish specialities apparently, in the notable absence of Ski Jumping from the summer programme), or - dare I dream - an entire morning in the Olympic Stadium itself, watching the opening heats of the Men's 100m. Bring on the confirmation on the 24th of June so I can start reading up on the rules of Handball.
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