Richmond - The Regal Suburb

A bit of Royalty has hit suburbia.

The Royal Barge 'Gloriana' in Richmond Upon Thames

Queen Elizabeth's royal barge, 'Gloriana', has been moored in Richmond Upon Thames for the last few days for some final touches before it takes centre stage for the Diamond Jubilee weekend.

Golden Hinde - replica of the 16th century boat
that circumnavigated the world,
captained by Sir Francis Drake

 On Sunday 3rd June, the Thames Diamond Jubilee River Pageant will begin its seven mile journey in Hammersmith and finish in Greenwich. Flanked by over a thousand other boats, the route will take four hours, and organisers are expecting more than a million people to line the banks of the river.


But why has Liz chosen the Thames for her celebratory parade? The Thames has been a convenient path for trade and transport, and it would seem royalty have a habit of using water to make dramatic entrances (and, in some cases, exits). Richard III was the first monarch to attend his coronation by water in late 15th century, whilst Henry VIII organised an extravagant flotilla of boats for his second wife, Anne Boleyn's coronation. (She was later taken on the same route in quite a different fashion to her execution.)

"And so Havengore sails into history – not even the Golden Hinde has borne

so great a man”

The Thames has also been the setting for more melancholic scenes. Elizabeth I's coffin was transported in a barge draped in black from Richmond to Whitehall in the dead of night, tailed by vessels holding candle-lit vigils in her memory. Admiral Lord Nelson also had his remains carried up the river on a barge draped in black velvet and lavishly decorated with large black plumes, whilst in 1965, Churchill's body was carried on upriver on the Havengore, a vessel that will be part of the procession on 3rd June.

Travelling with Gloriana and the Havengore will be numerous other historical vessels, including the Jubilant, a barge presented to the Queen for her golden jubilee. Considering Her previous river pageant record (She celebrated Her coronation, silver and golden jubilees in a similar manner), it seems particularly fitting to acknowledge her sixty year reign with another.

Jubilant - replica of the 18ths century barge presented to the Queen for her golden jubilee,
made by Mark Edwards in Richmond Upon Thames

Portwey - the only coal-fired steam tug active in the UK

Eilean - a sailing boat famous for her appearance in Duran Duran's 'Rio' video.

Waverley - last sea-going paddle steamer in the world

Restaurant Review: Elysee, Percy Street, W1T

Upstairs Dining Room

Last week, myself and a friend took advantage of the taste card to sample the greek menu that Elysee has to offer.

Just off Tottenham Court Road, this stylish restaurant not only provided a beautifully decorated dining room, but fantastic food and wine. We were greeted by a pleasant and friendly man, who took us upstairs to the roof terrace, where we sat and drank some delicious house white before making out way into the stylish dining room.

A light fitting made from smashed plates

We chose to order a few small dishes and a moussaka to make the most of our Greek eating experience. The spinacopita (spinach and cheese puff pastry triangles) left me wanting more, the breaded whitebait was perfectly cooked, greek meatballs perfectly spiced (if a little gristly), and the moussaka was faultless. The only disappointment was the lack of choice on the menu.

We made friends with the waitress, who told us that over weekends the downstairs part of the restaurant hosts parties that last till the early hours, with live music and plate smashing for all to enjoy! (The restaurant's website says they go through over 25,000 plates a year!)

All in all, what a wonderful eating experience. The personalities of the staff and the exquisite food reminded me of what truly fantastic, unique restaurants are really about, elements that are diluted by chains and fast food outlets.

If you're ever pining for some authentic, greek food, it is well worth going to town.

The Scepticism of The Big Smoke

When a stranger approaches you on a London street to hand you a thousand pounds in cash for picking up someone else's litter, what would you do?

Last week, a wealthy man did exactly that. His project, called Wearelucky., involves the mystery millionaire himself travelling across the globe, handing out a grand in cash to complete strangers - those he sees doing good deeds, or just because they look interesting. The only catch is to do 'good' with the money.

But when he brought this idea to London, giving away the money seemed more difficult than he first anticipated, where many people rejected his money in a distrusting fashion.

Maybe the fact that London is one of the most densely populated cities in the world (A statistic on an underground poster today stated that there is reaching five thousand people per square kilometre) makes Londoners particularly sceptical. The many people who, during a daily commute, ask for their hard earned cash, teamed with horror stories of various pickpocketing and street scams, would make even the most gullible think twice about accepting a wad of cash from a complete stranger.

Living in a populated city like London certainly makes you more streetwise and aware of your surroundings, but despite the masses of people we may walk past or sit opposite on the tube every day, if you decide to strike up a conversation with a fellow commuter, you're greeted with a combination of suspicion and mild terror.

Last week, after a lengthy discussion with a friend about such experiences (and the idea of a man approaching strangers with a grand in hand just for good karma), I decided to strike up a conversation with another woman on the train home. A conversation that lasted all of two minutes, I felt I'd done something nice and personal in what can often be an impersonal town. I never expected this temporary friendship to go any further than the exit of the station, but I was expecting some good karma.

But then things became weird. We went our separate ways, only for the woman to chase me down the road, asking for my name so she could add me on Facebook. Her reasoning? She liked my tights. I was quickly reminded why people do not make friends on public transport, and how, despite the millions of people who live and around London, it can still be the loneliest place on the planet to some.

This must be particularly true for those who do not originally come from the big smoke. A friend of mine just returned from Thailand after a few days of island hopping in the search for rest and relaxation. The day before the flight home, with fingers and toes in the capable hands of a ladyboy nail beautician, a tsunami warning was issued along the entire coast of the island. Everyone was told to get to higher ground.

As they made their way up the hills, a tuk tuk driver pulled up next to them and picks all four of them up, as well as seven Belgians, driving them up into the hills. After weaving in and out of manic traffic, they pull up at a hut - the man's home. Both himself and his wife make them all comfortable in their living room and whilst they wait for some news, food and drink is prepared for their new-found guests.

Thankfully, they all live to tell the tale. The tuk tuk driver returned them all to their relevant accommodation later that night, without demanding any payment or reward.

Whilst Londoners can be compassionate in hours of need (there are many heart-wrenching stories from the dark tunnels of 7/7), it seems difficult to believe that we would take eleven strangers off the street, bring them into our homes, feed them, make them comfortable, and ensure they get to their destinations without any more problems. Certainly after the stories of the Wearelucky. millionaire, and my personal attempt at good karma, my reservations may well outweigh any good intentions. Maybe one day that will change.

'Money Can't Buy Life'

19th April 2012

Tomorrow, a film documenting the life of musical legend Bob Marley is released in UK cinemas.

Produced by his son Ziggy Marley, the film uses archival footage and interviews of the man himself and those who were close to him to put together a respectful and fitting homage to the biggest reggae star of all time.

Atleast, that's what many of the rave reviews have said, and is also what I hope. Bob was certainly no angel (it's acknowledged that he has love children dotted around the globe and is rumoured to have countless more, despite his marriage to backing singer Rita Marley), but his laid back attitude and songs about the struggle of black oppression made him an influential musician, creating timeless songs and thought-provoking statements.


With this in mind, there is certainly one thing I will be expecting - an incredible soundtrack. His music speaks for the time he was living in, with hits like Trenchtown Rock, So Much Trouble In The World and, arguably his most famous, Three Little Birds, many of them have become anthems to all ages, speaking of the need for revolution and a faith in the natural order of the world.

The poster boy for Rastafarianism, his religion played a massive part in his life, and also his death. Marley was diagnosed with cancer in 1977 underneath his toe nail, dismissing advice from doctors to have it amputated because of his religious beliefs. He spent the remainder of his life touring the world, playing his music, until the cancer had spread to his lungs and brain, resulting in his death in May 1981. He was 36.

Coach-hella crazy!

17th April 2012

This evening, I have decided to jump on the Coachella Festival bandwagon. For those who are in the dark, Coachella is a music and arts festival located in the Californian desert, and one which has been the subject of much attention amongst hipsters and young celebs. It has even become a topic of discussion on Christwire (you can read the completely accurate and not at all satirical (or satanical) article here.

Most are posting and watching the video of a Tupac hologram. This seems far removed from the festival scene I have become accustomed to, one which involved music, dj sets and  impressive shows performed by real, live people. Whilst the technological advances are nothing short of spectacular, it is difficult to get beyond the thought that this is transparent money-making (in more ways than one), allowing music moguls to feed off his name through some clever graphics and pre-recorded songs.

It's a weird tainting of the music business. Technology seeps into the way in which music is edited and shared with the masses. It's brought us auto-tuning, Justin Bieber (who's followers call themselves Beliebers. There's no salvation for some) and, when auto-tuning and Youtube are combined, something completely different yet brilliant...like this.

Obviously, it has it's benefits. With people able to share their music in just a couple of clicks, it's never been easier to access whatever music you want, whilst Twitter enables us all to follow our musical idols and find the latest tracks and songs by our favourite artists. But it also means that the deluded masses are able to share their talents too. (Rebecca Black's pre-weekend chant has forever stained that friday feeling for myself and I'm sure many more.)

So, as someone who does not get along with technology (I haven't had a properly working phone since my mobile phone career began way back in the early years of secondary school, and laptop history has hardly been simple either), I'm not looking for holograms to entertain me at festivals. If I wanted an image rather than the real thing, I'd watch a video on Youtube.

Pokey LaFarge and the South City Three

29th March 2012

What a beautiful sunny week so far eh? Perfect weather for an afternoon of drinking in the sun by the river, followed by some American roots fun in the beautiful settings of Bush Hall.

On Monday night, myself and a few friends went to see Pokey Lafarge and the South City Three, made up of Joe Glynn on bass, Adam Hoskins on guitar, and Ryan Koenig on the harmonica and other household appliances. 

The whiskey was in full flow and the hall was packed with an eclectic crowd, ranging from middle-aged men and women who'd seen them on Jools Holland's Hootenanny last year, deep-south Americans and us, the twenty-somethings. When the band began their set, the crowd were frustratingly stagnant - but when they started playing their better known songs, like Drinkin' Whiskey Tonight (as seen on the Jools Holland clip) and La La Blues, they came to life. Even a fight broke out and the perpetrator was escorted out of the building. Rock and roll. 

Shortly after, Pokey calmed everyone down with an acoustic track called Josephine (a video from the night in question) and at the end of the night, after some heavy cheering from the crowd, the guys came back for an encore. 

As for the South City Three, what a bunch of dudes. The guitarist, Adam, knocked out some great solos,  and the bassist, Joe, rocks some rather impressive sideburns and this 'strong, silent type' demeanour. But it was Ryan, the harmonica maestro, who stole the show. Not only did he make me want to buy a harmonica the next day and move to the deep south, but it was his skills with a washboard that blew me away. He too was rocking some great sideburns, and a cowboy hat and waistcoat.

After the gig, instead of chilling out backstage, the band wandered into the front foyer to greet their fans, sign some posters and have a few photos taken. They were happy to chat to anyone, and when we bumped into them in a bar up the road, Pokey said hello again, remembering our names and seeming genuinely pleased to be chatting to us. It was refreshing to see a band so pleased to interact with their fans without a publicist forcing them into it.

Pokey, Myself, my pal Charlie, and Adam.

All in all, what a fun and charming Monday night. They're playing there again on Thursday, so if you happen to be in West London, I would highly recommend wandering down to try and bag yourself a night of Whiskey-induced swing. 

The Return of The Apprentice

Lord Sugar is back. On 21st March, The Apprentice is hitting our television screens once again. If you share the same sentiment as my Dad by thinking the show is a clever way for Alan to raise his profile and make more money, you would be right.

Despite this, I have been a fan of it since the very beginning, when the applicants all actually wanted to work for Sir Alan and had a genuine passion for business. Remember the original apprentice winner, Tim? He was the nice guy who came out of the intense questioning and scrutiny in the final interviews to beat horrendously annoying Saira. (She went on to present a kids' programme called 'The Boss' which was awful anyway, and not helped by her embarrassingly bad interactions with the kids involved)  He was the first and last winner I thought was deserving of the job. From then on, each series had your token wanker, tough-childhood-self-made success, public school boy, wannabe television personality and then the arrogant, delusional one. (Step forward Stuart Baggs - The Brand. 'I'm not a one trick pony, I'm not a ten trick pony, I've got a whole field of ponies.' The less said about Baggs, the better.)

Throughout the years, there's been many candidates of note, like Katie Hopkins, boardroom bitch of the third series, notably remembered for her eclipse-inducing nose, who then went on to star in a scandalous spread in the tabloids after being photographed having sex in a country field. Sounds like the perfect sweetener for Sugar's business dealings.

And before that, there was my personal favourite, Ruth Badger, or 'The Badger' to her fans. An excellent saleswoman who held her own in the boardroom, she was beaten by an 'I've had a shit life and look where I am now' routine from Michelle Dewberry (who, subsequently, left her job at Amstrad after only a few months.. Poor choice there Alan).

But the best bit about the Apprentice nowadays is not the brutal actions of those in a highly-stressful and highly-critical environment, but the half hour show on BBC2, hosted now by the amazing Dara O'Briain, who tears apart these egos in front of a studio audience and a panel of 'experts'. There's nothing like a bit of poetic justice. Now, not only is their cruel and cringe-worthy behaviour inflicted on the viewing public, but it is forced upon the perpetrator, who then is put in the awkward position of justifying why you 'never say never in the biscuit world'... Now that takes the... ahem, moving on.

Next Wednesday is the night where it starts all over again and I cannot wait.