Barbican, Rollins and Mileage

Yesterday was another Rollins gig, this time at the Barbican in London.

It was a bit more complicated than last week’s gig in Bristol, as it involved collecting another friend of mine from over by Oxford, then getting a train to London, across to Barbican, getting food, going to the gig, and then a similar journey for the return.

All told though, it went really smoothly.  I’d booked pretty much everything in advance, including the train tickets and reserving a table at the restaurant of choice, so it was as organised as humanly possible.

The restaurant in particular was a real success – the Jugged Hare, just round the corner from the Barbican itself. I’d seen it before, but never eaten there, so went for it when the chance came up, and booked for their pre-theatre menu. I am truly glad I did.  They specialise in game of all sorts – it’s definitely not a great place for vegetarians! – but there’s enough variety in the menu, if game isn’t your thing.

To be fair, there is a vegetarian option on the menu – well, it says “Vegetarian – £14”, so it could be a fillet of vegetarian, for all I know.

The three-course meal was great – particularly the venison haunch, and their sticky toffee pudding was amazing. (as was the accompanying mince-pie ice cream, which has to be tasted to be believed)  Knowing how easy it is for me to drive to Barbican in general, I will be returning. Several times.

The gig itself was great – Rollins spoke for three full hours, with no breaks. The show was about 50% the same as the one I saw last week in Bath, but I can live with that – it’s better than being entirely the same!

The journey home was OK – getting the trains back went smoothly, and then a drive through snow to drop off friend, and then another hour and a bit on motorways in heavy snow (though thankfully not settling) to get home, which happened just after 2am.

So a long day, but an entirely worthwhile one…


Another London Run

Yesterday was yet another day spent in London. Thankfully, it was also a different area (again) which helps to keep things fresh.

This time, it was Hammersmith, primarily to see an American comedian called Gabriel Iglesias at the Hammersmith Eventim Apollo with a friend (who was the one who knew of Iglesias first) who was doing a one-off, rare (and sold out) London gig

It’s a long time since I’ve been to the Apollo – December 2008, from the look of it – and Hammersmith has changed a bit since last time. The places I’d used to use for parking had – unsurprisingly – changed, and disappeared, so it was time for a bit of a new explore.

Because it was an evening thing, we aimed to have food before. So mid-afternoon we went into London via a circuitous-ish route that allowed us to avoid the vagaries of the peak-time weekend M25, and simply blat straight into Hammersmith. Into the parking area I’d chosen, and job-done.

Had a decent meal, a couple of drinks, and then to the Apollo for what turned out to be a brilliant show – thoroughly enjoyed. (Although lots of people doing American-ised whoops at lots of things, which isn’t really my thing at all) Paid a small fortune for parking – which is taking the piss, as that parking wasn’t being used for anything else – and a pretty simple escape. Certainly nothing like as bad as getting out of Wembley…

And then a straight motorway blat home, dropping off friends at houses along the way (we’d met another couple of people at the gig) so I got home at about 1am, and didn’t get to sleep ’til gone 2.

It’s fair to say I am not fully awake today…


Bellwether

In a conversation the other day about driving – and motorway driving in particular – I was told I was too callous and calculating. I’m not sure this is true, but I’m interested…

 

So.  When I’m driving motorways, and even more so at night, I usually let someone else go in front who’s driving faster than I am, and let them be the testing point for whether there are any active speed cameras or unmarked police cars around.

My theory is that if [Other Driver] blats past a camera and it flashes (or a car that then turns out to have concealed flashing lights on/in it) then that’s their problem rather than mine. And it gives me time to slow down before getting to the camera myself.

I was told that’s callous and calculating. I think it makes sense.

Surely I’m not the only driver that does this?


Brighton Images

On Sunday, I trolled off down to Brighton for the day. I haven’t been there in years – the last time was a flying visit five years ago for an interview, and before that it had been a number of years too – but realised it’s just about the same distance as Felixstowe is (they’re both a two-hour drive time) to get to, so what the hell.

I don’t know Brighton as well as I should, and so having a wander around was also appealing. It’s on the list of ‘places I could re-locate to at some point’, so seemed like a worthwhile explore – and I was right on that score.

Being December, it was pretty blowy and chilly – although less cold than a December Sunday would suggest – but that’s never bothered me all that much. I lived by the South Coast for a couple of years before, and have no real issue with cold. That was the flat where the freezer shut off because it was colder outside the freezer than inside it, and where more than once I woke up with frost on the top of the duvet. Sunday, by comparison, was almost summery.

Brighton Beach

As it turned out, the weather made it ideal for what I actually wanted – waves, and the sound of the sea on shingle beach. Walking along one of the groynes/piers (not one of the Proper Piers, but the little jutty-out ones) was a joy, just for getting out to be where the waves were hitting the beach.

Brighton Waves

And then the sun came out, and it was even better…

Sunlight hits Brighton

All told, I think it’s a place I’m going to go back to a lot more in the coming year. It’s an easy run, and I think I could really get to quite like the place.

There’s others still on the list too – something I’ll be writing about at some point this month, I’m sure – but yeah, Brighton is definitely now more of a destination, and pretty high on the possibility levels too.


Coastal – Brighton

Following on from last week’s day-trip to Felixstowe for coastal stuff, today I’m off – assuming vaguely decent (or at least non-abysmal) weather – down to Brighton for similar reasons.

I realised afterwards, looking at maps, that actually the two places are a very similar drive-time (and indeed mileage) away, so sod it, go for something different.

I haven’t been to Brighton in yonks – well, I had an interview there a few years back, but that doesn’t really count – so it’ll be fun to go back, and have a wander around, plus spend some time on the beach (I know, it’s stones rather than sand) and see how things go.

That’s the plan, anyway. I’ll update later/tomorrow with how it goes, and any relevant photos etc.


Signage

At the moment I seem to spend far too much of my available non-work time on the road, so I notice stuff around me.

Over the last couple of weeks one of the motorway gantries on my route (the ones with speed cameras on) has been out of action, so there’s been a small – but noticeable if you pay attention – yellow sign saying

Camera not in use

Today though, I noticed that it has changed, and now says

Camera now in use

And lo, there we go, seeing it flash on speeders.

It just struck me as interesting, the simple alteration of one letter that means so much, and changes the whole thing – and I wonder how many people notice/realise.


Going Round in Circles

Yesterday I did – yet another – circumnavigation of the M25 in one day. It’s quite a childish thing, allbeit not something I do on a whim, but sometimes it amuses me.  The main difference this time was that I did it anti-clockwise, which for some reason I do less often.

Yesterday was a drive from home to parents in Oxford, collect them and drive them to Dover (they’re off on a holiday) and then back round to the M1 to go home.  It also involved a trip into the office – that’s a post for another time – so all told I covered about 350 miles in the day.

Anyway, all well and good, and I’m still alive. Just currently snowed with work-related stuff, hence the paucity of postings here.


Squish (Follow On)

This year, I’ve seen a lot of roadkill – as I’ve commented before – which is at least somewhat related to going back to doing a fair amount of driving on fast roads, dual carriageways, motorways and the like.

I don’t mind that too much – although I think it’s quite sad to see it – but there’s something that bugs me about it, which is this.

No matter where the bodies are on the road – including right over by the edge and (particularly on motorways) right in the middle, near the central reservation and safety barrier, right out of the traffic lanes.  Yet within a couple of days, the bodies are flattened, all bones crushed and so on.

It’s not decomposition – OK, it could be, but I’m pretty sure it doesn’t happen that fast.

All I can assume is that there’s a certain breed of driver who feel it’s acceptable (or perhaps even amusing, I don’t know) to run over the bodies, even if it means curving out of the lane, towards the crash barrier in order to do so.

And really that just boggles my little mind…


Leisure Mileage

Over the last couple of weeks, I’ve covered over a thousand miles just for social stuff.

Last weekend (the Bank Holiday) was notably mental, even by my standards. It involved :

  • Friday. Go to work, come back at lunchtime, drive down to the O2 to see Nine Inch Nails in concert, and drive home.  Home at 1am.
  • Saturday. Drive down to Tunbridge Wells for a friend’s birthday do. Enjoy that, not drink much, then think “sod it” and drive home at the end of the night rather than sleeping in a tent. Home at 1.30ish.
  • Sunday. See the parents for a fleeting visit, just so we all know that each other is alive.
  • Monday. Drive over to Brentwood to meet up with friends. Drive home.

All told, that little lot amassed some 750 miles – and meant I travelled the same section of M25 (from M1 round to Dartford Crossing, or thereabouts) no less than three times in four days..  And then a meeting on the Tuesday down in Hampshire.

This weekend is a little bit calmer, but still consists of

  • Friday. Normal work travel, cinema in the evening, then home.
  • Saturday. Into Milton Keynes, collect new glasses and do some other domestic tat. Then drive down to Somerset for a house-warming thing, stopping off at Bristol to collect a couple of train-travellers and get them there too
  • Sunday. Come back. (Unsure yet whether that’ll also be via Bristol or not)
  • Monday. New job, new office, similar commute to the last month.

And next weekend involves a trip into London to meet up with friends and visit a couple of galleries with exhibitions I want to see.

I must be bloody barmy…


Making A Commitment

(No, not that sort of commitment – chiff that!)

Anyway. Having been a contractor for [far too] many years now, I find I still really don’t understand the people who take on a contract that’ll involve a large commute, and then bitch about it, or try and change the pay/conditions of the contract because of that commute.  If/when I take on a commute, I know what kind of distance I’m going to be travelling in order to do it. I’ve usually checked out the drive/travel – at worst I’ve a pretty good idea of where I’ll be going, how I’ll do the travel, and what it’s likely to entail.

A current colleague is coming to the office daily from Essex, via the M25. It’s a 70 mile journey each-way, using the M25 and M1, and should take about 90 minutes. I’ve done longer journeys as a commute (both in mileage and travel time) and it’s roughly the same time/distance as I was doing from Suffolk to London a couple of years back. (That was actually a longer one because I then did about 45 mins on Tube travel as well)

At least once a week this colleague bitches about how bad his commute is, how troublesome, and what a nightmare the traffic is. I know he’s tried to get himself paid for travelling time, or reduce his working hours in order to level out the commute time.  So far, the company has resisted changing anything, because he knew (or should’ve known) what he was letting himself in for – and I really can’t blame them.

With a contract, if you sign up for it, you should see it out at the terms/rates you agreed. I always do. The only time that changes is if the company is crap, or the conditions are not what you were told at the time. If they’d promised to pay for accommodation or whatever, and then didn’t, that’s a reason to change terms/rates. If the job/place isn’t what was sold at interview, fair enough, change things. If the job is simply not quite what you’d expected, grin and bear it.

Contracts are finite things. I can handle pretty much any commute or working conditions for three or six months. If you can’t, you either a) shouldn’t be contracting, b) should figure out your locations and commutes better, or c) should learn to shut up and put up.


M25 Circumnavigation

This weekend, I’ve driven round most of the M25. The only section I missed out was from M40 to M1 (which I do on a regular basis anyway, so no major loss)  and by then I was sick of the road anyway.

It wasn’t just for fun, though. Yesterday was a drive from home (M1) to Chislehurst, in order to attend the wedding reception of Merialc. That particular run was OK, thankfully – even with the prevalence of roadworks etc. – until reaching the Dartford Crossing, which was as shafted as always, and took half an hour on its own.

Today I went round the other half, having decided to visit my parents who live off the M40. The roadworks on that section were far worse, although at least we were moving, if slowly.

It’s been a fun weekend (which I know means I need to either get a life, or get out more) but Lord above, the M25 does annoy me.

Weirdly, it’s not because of the generally shit quality of the road, the ongoing road works, or the tossbag drivers. What annoys me is that the M25 had the chance to be a great road, a great future-facing way to deal with all the possibilities relating to the increase of traffic round London for the next thirty to fifty years. And instead, it’s a lofting great white elephant. Why? Because no politicians or planners had the guts to stand up and say “Look, this is what we need, but let’s future-proof it, let’s make it all five carriageways each side, plan for a huge increase in traffic, and make it work properly”.

It could’ve been so good, and instead it’s just a bag of shit.