Tag: Christmas

On The Road Again

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“See it. Say it. Sorted” says a message on the loud speaker after telling passengers to report anything suspicious. Don’t get me wrong there have been situations involving public transport in the past but the constant need to remind people of the fear they should be in, the potential that there could always be something to look out for, makes me far uneasier than any possible – I’m assuming terrorist – danger does.

I just missed my mouth slightly and spilt beer on my face mask. We can add that to the drawbacks list. I’ve never quite understood why when drinking alcohol is illegal in outdoor public places, on buses, even as a passenger in cars apparently; it is perfectly fine to drink on a train. I can only assume it has something to do with them being able to sell alcohol themselves and it being impossible to regulate train beer from carry on beer. Maybe it’s just a throwback to dining carts. I’m not complaining. Few countries in the world seem to allow such things and I see it as a genuine positive of what is already probably my favourite form of transport. I’ll take a bus if I have to, I’ll avoid the train if it’s too expensive and I’ll take the plane if it makes more practical sense but there’s still something I enjoy about a train that I’m yet to put my finger on entirely. Comfortable, fast, easy, goes through scenic areas. Maybe I should go on one of those long train journeys like the Trans-Siberian or across America, the Andes, Australia and anywhere else that begins with ‘A’.

Despite spending the last few months delivering bread and working in a bakery and pizza shop I seem a little more nervous about this virus though. The little Northumberland seaside village and the Scottish countryside of my parents feels like a little bubble I’ve stepped out of. I’ve gone south where bad things happen. I’m now in the real world. A world with dangers.

I can still only smell beer. This is going to make me paranoid. Is it me, do I stink of beer or is it simply a drop on my mask leading to a false reading. I’m not sure if I can spend the next twelve hours breathing beer fumes.

I’m on the move again then. Off to Greece. I’ve mentioned it previously but I doubt anyone reads every post every day so this is me informing you all I’m off to Greece. I had a short break in Dublin over Christmas but it does feel like I’ve not been abroad for a year now. This virus really has made us change our way of existing. I’m a little nervous actually and I’m curious how I’ll feel about it. I have a habit of wishing for the sedentary life when I travel a little too much and the travelling life when I’m in one spot for too long. Considering it has been a long time since Christmas and an even longer time since my last adventure, the wishing became a slight insanity.

It can be hard to leave though. We become comfortable and after all these years I do wonder if maybe I am getting a little old for all this. Ten years ago I did meet people in their thirties just starting out so perhaps age has little to do with it. We just experience things in a different way. I do find it harder to leave my parents each time though, especially now in this present virus related fear period. I don’t give a shit about potentially suspicious packages, I give a shit about my loved ones coming into contact with a deadly virus. Leaving them at the train station questioning whether it will be the last time I’ll see them but knowing I have to leave regardless. The truth is, life goes on. The whole world ground to a halt for a few months once already and now we just have to get on with it. It is easy to blame the economy and capitalism but it’s human nature. We can’t stand still. Sometimes it’s not always easy though.

One More Piece Of Track

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I sometimes wonder if I’m obsessed with habits. Partly this comes down to spending years moving around and in a way desiring the time for routine and such things. Not being fixed like a robot but just having a familiarity with how the day will unfold and what that means at certain times. Had I not been in one place these last ten months this whole experiment would have unfolded differently. Certainly I thought the summer pieces would have been full of travel and sailing adventures which would have been interesting but there’s every chance life would have been busy in a different way and possibly affected what has still managed to be one piece a day. Having a routine these ten months has helped this to happen.

I left yesterday then as I mentioned, well, yesterday, and am now at my parents until late next Tuesday. I have plenty of time on my hands now so no excuse not to write this but I am having to adapt to a new routine. That’s not overly challenging but it does require discipline to sit down when I don’t know how the day will unfold. You can’t wait until later in the day because you don’t know how later will unfold. This will likely become even more apparent next week when I find myself in Greece. How my days will unfold is anyone’s guess and like over Christmas when I was in Dublin it will likely be a case of grab any opportunity I can.

The reason I go into this is because I found myself watching random television tonight and being unsure when it would allow me the time to sit down and do this. I was going to write about the documentary on trains I watched but like happens regularly I end up just rambling as I begin writing. Trains are really cool. They influenced local and world events. The Indian railway system allowed for Indian Independence while also in a way being a positive of British rule. That’s one way of spinning it at least. The Brits also tried to build a railway from Cairo to Cape Town and got about half way, through some of the most beautiful and arduous terrain. The Russian Revolution became a possibility as the Railway Union backed the Bolsheviks during the revolution and subsequent civil war. That’s without even mentioning the remarkable Trans Siberian railway. I really want to do the trip from Cape Town to Victoria Falls. Trains are probably my favourite form of transport because they take you through wilderness in a way that roads going from town to town can’t.

I watched this program then and it reminded me how much I enjoy doing things and going places. Is that a habit? The habit of choosing the adventurous option. In a way it’s probably something learnt from what life has provided me until now. I’ve learnt this is not just an option but an option I thrive in. It could also be the habit of running away from the challenge of living a life of repetition and work, the struggles that that involves. Life is but nuance and a multitude of credible and rational explanations it appears after all. And like a slow steam train ambling through countryside, this is but one more section of track in search of the elusive final instalment.

Politics In A Mad World

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Let’s be honest I’ve ballsed up again. Fresh from a lovely nap I picked up my phone and discovered the world is falling apart. The Tories have refused to take the NHS off the negotiating table in the trade deal with the US, despite categorically insisting it wasn’t for sale during the election. Current Labour leader Keir Starmer’s party have paid out a load of money to his cronies / whistleblowers who were part of the Panorama documentary that tried to further paint the anti-racist, anti-apartheid, and pro-Palestinian campaigning former Labour leader Jeremy Corbyn as a racist anti-semite. Machiavelli would be proud. There are even rumours Starmer is going to withdraw the Labour whip from Corbyn and kick him out of the party. This would be remarkable. It would also be the final nail in the coffin for the Labour party and any pretence of a socially conscious respectability. To think they were once the party of the people. Starmer was supported by the media and put in place with one express purpose, to be nothing like Corbyn and he’s doing a fine job, not just in the ways he thinks or hopes.

The fear is that the world is falling apart. The reality is that I really don’t know whether it has always been this bad and we’re just getting more coverage of things if we take time to read independent media. I’m just bemused at how people don’t recognise how self-serving our politicians are. Or they do but see it as part of the job. Perhaps they think most are but not the few they support. That could describe my support for Corbyn and few else of course but the evidence really does suggest otherwise. I look at Boris and wonder how anyone could think he possibly stands for them but if they stand for leaving the European Union, closer ties to America, privatisation and the eradication of the welfare state then he does stand for them. As my friend, who doesn’t like Corbyn, said at the last election, “If I didn’t give a shit about anyone other than myself and my immediate family I would vote Conservative for the benefits it would bring me economically”. I paraphrase slightly but that was the gist. It is very easy to be self-righteous and left wing but that’s simply because the other side make it so easy and hard not to be. It’s just concerning that so many people seem to follow the King Turkey when Christmas is on the agenda. I’m confused because I don’t see why people think like this, the only thing that makes sense is that people genuinely believe they can rise up a ladder and claim some of these promised benefits for themselves. They just don’t notice the big glass ceiling let alone any of the other glass ceilings in between. At least Boris has left them a big sack of fools gold on the bottom rung for them to squabble and be divided over.

The Minirig 3

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A few days ago I mentioned how some people seem to need constant music in the background and that while I enjoy music I have never had that necessity in life. I was always the person quite content with silence, it was even necessary when I needed to concentrate. Depending on your grasp of English you may have just noticed that last sentence was in the past tense. About four years ago, maybe three, I forget and life seems to blur a little as one ages, I was spending winter working a pretty gruelling job on a Christmas tree farm. I used to tell people I sold Christmas trees and they used to think it sounded thoroughly lovely which merely confirmed to me they had never spent thirty-five straight days standing around in the rain carrying trees for ten hours in the middle of the winter. But I digress. It was maybe the third year of doing it when one of my fellow masochists told me about a small portable speaker called the Minirig. They loved their drum and bass, were a regular festival goer, with knowledge, and this speaker was apparently the best you could get. Small, rechargeable, bluetooth which could connect enough together to be good enough for an actual gig. Fair enough I thought. I put it on my ‘to desire and maybe but probably not buy one day’. Well I only went and bloody bought it.

It’s an interesting purchase because I was trying to work out how I could justify it, like I said I don’t listen to music constantly and well my laptop and mobile are surprisingly loud. My justification was that it would come in handy for future travel. How much I misjudged the power of this speaker. Firstly it’s worth saying how beautiful it is, sleek black, stylish cylindrical, ideal size for my hand, aesthetically it just oozes quality. And then I started playing some songs and the moment it began I was just amazed, it was almost jaw dropping. The sound quality is just outstanding. I can not stress how good the sound quality is. Genuinely I can’t stop listening to music because the sound is just perfect. This is how music is supposed to sound. It has all sorts of technical specifications which mean nothing to me and I’m not going to bother sharing them here. Just believe me when I say it makes me smile when I look at it and realise that sound my ears can hear is coming from that little speaker. If anyone ever asks me about speakers I will only ever have one answer. There is no second option. I never thought an inanimate object could bring me such pleasure.

Bohemians Brewdog FC

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I’m writing this on the way to the football. We’re off to see my new favourite club Bohemians, or more precisely Bohemians U10’s. My little cousins are all crazy about sport as all young Irish lads seem to be and three of them play within the clubs system. They gave me an official hat about a month ago and a scarf now for Christmas so I’m decked out ready to support the boys.

The only issue for me of course is that I have had to switch my Dublin club allegiance from Shamrock Rovers who wear the same colours as my beloved Glasgow Celtic and who I always for some reason felt were a bit more of the rebel club but I’ve got over it pretty easily. Throw in the fact Bohemians wear red and black, which are incidentally anarchist colours, and following the lads and supporting their team becomes a lot easier. Bohemians are also fan owned I think which is exactly what I want to hear. Fits in perfectly with the red and black anarchist the already self-confessed romantic in me is trying to push.

It’s now six hours later…and we lost heavily. My little cousin Marco, who now goes by the name Marcolinho, was in goal for the first half and he did alright made a few decent saves, centre back second half and a made some good tackles and blocks. The problem was the U10’s had too many call offs as so close to Christmas and they had to recruit a lot of U9’s and seemingly there is a huge difference in size between the two ages. Quite enjoyed cheering him on though and could easily imagine myself being quite a loud combustible father on the sidelines given the chance. We subsequently found ourself in the new Brewdog pub by the Royal Canal Dock, which fed my barge desire even further, and which was worth a visit as my dad and myself have a couple of shares and therefore a massive five percent off. I imagine it’ll be a popular place come next summer. But that’ll do for now, I’m going for another drink, before seeing my cousin DJing, isn’t Christmas tough.

Merry Christmas

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Its three o’clock in the afternoon on Christmas Day and I’m only having my first drink now. Strangely late for such a typically drunken day, usually my first is with breakfast. It’s funny how today has become such a day of drunken silliness. It’s most people’s day off and what is the one way we now to relax, drink. That is not me being critical either because I actually don’t mind at all, may even be one of my more favourite traditions. The plan today had been to escape to the pub pre-dinner for a few but it appears that there is one thing more important for the Irish than alcohol, apologies for such a ridiculous stereotype, and that is family. Unlike Scotland, there are no pubs open today and while I complain for my personal loss I commend them for not selling their arse entirely like we have, at least for one day. I should find out whether restaurants or pubs with food are open for traditional Christmas lunches for people but I doubt it too.

No real dramas today yet either except for my dog attempting to eat one of the children which was not ideal. I’m hoping for some boardgames later, it’s usually the only day of the year I can persuade my Dad to play something like that so I take full advantage. Most games these days I don’t know though as it seems to be big business again and they’re pumping them out too fast to keep up with. Trivial pursuit was always my favourite but that seems to have fallen by the wayside, and I’ll suspend my avoidance of dice game or any game involving luck for this day only.

There was an article someone had put up on Facebook today which I never bothered reading but it was about the various versions of middle class Christmas we’re experiencing and for sure the one I play will be there. Again, this is not a criticism, it is what it is and I love Christmas, mine is generally a pleasant one, so how could I criticise. It’s more amusing is all. I am currently hiding away in my room writing this and my Dad keeps bringing beers through to me, he is good, he performs a very vital role on these days in particular. Thing is now though I think I could very easily have myself a little pre-dinner nap just to charge the batteries, I’ve certainly not slept enough over these last few days.

That’s it really, I haven’t got much to say today. It’s just Christmas you know.

‘Tis the Season

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It’s that time of year again that everyone gets excited, drinks too much, loves family, drinks a bit more and hates family. The reason I talk about Christmas, I’m sure you’ve already guessed, is that I have been wrapping presents. It is easily my least favourite part of the whole experience as I find it so very tedious. I have obvious reservations about Christmas, the commercialisation has spread like rabies and it can create the same rabid affect on people, but it is also the same people who wince when they see shop decorations in September. People still seem to have retained a semblance of decency in this regard despite the best efforts of those trying to sell joy.

What is it then that makes people enjoy Christmas so much, it can’t just be the buying and selling of presents, despite best efforts our happiness isn’t programmed into the strength of the economy and has nothing to do with GDP. And despite all my reservations I must confess that after the horrors of realising I have to buy presents and think, I actually quite enjoy it, there’s something satisfying realising you’ve had a good idea. Perhaps then it comes back to the initial idea in the very first sentence. The obvious statement to make is that Christmas brings people together, and while that is cheesy and not entirely accurate with it’s disgustingly positive connotations, there is still some truth in it. It may be that in bringing people together and creating an environment in which people can eat, drink and be merry, it allows them to forget the drudgery of their existence for a few days. The highs and lows of life and all the drama that that entails, loving and then hating family, is always something us sensation hooked humans thrive on, evidenced surely by the spike in domestic violence over the period.

Yet we keep on coming back. Year after year we get excited for Christmas, or at least in my little middle class bubble everyone I know does. I suspect it is also an incredibly stressful period for millions of people out there as they take on the new debt that’ll take them until the following Christmas to pay off or spend it without a loved one for the first time. Does that make me enjoy my Christmas any less, and would it make me a bad person if I didn’t let it. It would certainly take a selfish martyr to tell me so. In which case we embrace the bubble we live in. Eat, drink, fuck and fight just as we did last year, and just as we’ll do for a thousand to come.

Bureaucracy

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A bureaucratic nightmare is a phrase that you may not have said yourself but will have certainly heard said by someone else in a usually less than positive moment. Bureaucracy is one of those things that we all just love to hate. We spend three days filling out a one hundred page form to apply for a foot test or a visa to a foreign land, and bemoan the complete and utter waste of our time. At least you can enter those foreign lands I hear someone saying. Anyway when four months later we receive back a notification that we forgot to fill in Section 17 Subsection P which can be found by following the link printed at the bottom of the last page and will now have to pay a fine of four hundred and forty-nine pounds or be banned from ever filling out forms again, we forget about the waste of time, rejoice and decide now is the moment to finally tear down the state. We’ve all been there.

I’m going to Ireland for Christmas, how lovely. The dog will be coming along and it appears that despite Ireland being rabies free, she needs an up to date rabies jab if she wants to come with us. I can confirm she wants to go. Fair enough I hear you say. What I don’t understand is why she needs these things. I can understand requiring them coming from mainland Europe as this is an island and it is about keeping various diseases out, such as rabies in this case. However I don’t need any pet documentation to go to Northern Ireland, which while still being part of the UK is also coincidentally still part of the island of Ireland. I suspect very few people within the island of Ireland give much of a shit about taking their pet passports, or even getting one if they’re going back and forth over the border so what really is the point.

It makes zero logical and practical sense as it can be circumvented so easily which means it must be down to some political bureaucratic nonsense. This will be some EU law or regulation cooperative states abide by and I dare say this could be an easy moment to rant about the EU if I was that way inclined. That though would miss the point, this is more symptomatic of State, governance and institutional power. Regulations protect and eat away at liberties in different often polarised ways but we’re dealing here with the ultimate trip – time and money, and what they mean for power – bureaucracies most honoured of friends.