Gertsamtkunstwerk

How to leave Twitter - Grace Dent

I have a specific problem with books.I don't actually believe I'm morally obliged to read the entirety of a book if I'm not enjoying it. But, if I have a book sitting unread and I don't feel I've tried hard enough, I find it very difficult to start a new one. In her favour,  Grace Dent rescued me from Margaret Campbell Barnes.

I was going to describe Margaret Campbell Barnes as a Philippa Gregory wannabe, but it turns out that she was born in the 19th century and died before I was born. Amo on Amazon succinctly summarises my feelings. But attempting to read it put me off books for a while.

I read about two thirds of Grace Dent on a Bournemouth Beach, but then suffered a different form of Boring Book Syndrome. Unfairly, because it's not really that boring. Its style is fast-paced, eminently readable, easy to concentrate on. Difficult to put down, but, to be honest, quite difficult to pick up again.

I don't imagine that she - an author of ephemeral TV columns and Teen Fiction - intended this to be a sociological commentary or to offer any insights into life. Nothing in it caused me to examine my behaviour on Twitter and certainly not my life.

I read a caustic comment that it cast an ugly light on the lifestyle of the almost-famous, but I can't even claim it does that. I do feel that Grace thinks Twitter is solely for her almost-famous clique (her word) to chat amongst themselves under observation from the adoring masses. Perhaps her perception is well-founded. But I follow all sorts of different users for different purposes, and no longer follow most of the Grace Dent clique because they are of little use to me. In general, they seem too conscious that their evey proclamation is done under the spotlight of a watching world. And they often lack the broad experience and insights of non-media people. I occasionally wanted to say 'but, but...' as I read, only, I couldn't really be bothered.

At least it finally got me back into the book-reading habit.

Boqueria Tapas

I am so behind with my blogging that before I have got round to writing about my June visit to Boqueria on Acre Lane, I have revisited. We have been three times this year, which is probably an indication of how much we like the place.

It helps that it's very close to home, eminently walkable - but why walk when there's a bus service practically door-to-door! The staff are lovely, can't fault them. Don't interrupt you when eating, in order to ask spurious questions about 'everything okay'* and yet are very approachable. Also, as happened on Saturday, we didn't quite finish everything on our plates. The waiter, who I think is also manager, asked with genuine concern whether there was a reason we hadn't finished. I reassured him that we had been in that awkward position of being hungry but perhaps not hungry enough to eat a full meal, had had rather a large breakfast (and rather a large snack at the Lambeth Country Show). 

Boqueria do some things extremely well. The seafood paella we had in June was exceptional, better than paellas I have had in Spain. I enjoyed the Rape a la Catalana con gambas - monkfish and prawns I ate Sturday (but forgot to photograph!) And you can see from the photo above an excellent example of how to present a simply described 'Mixed salad' with fresh succulent ingredients.

Less successful was Espinacas a la crema gratinada con piñones (fresh spinach with melted cheese raisins and pine nuts). It was eatable and not unpleasant, but I found it to be surprisingly bland - perhaps I expected more of a piquant taste from the goat's cheese. It was a generous portion of spinach, which led to the dish seeming unstructured.

I also enjoyed the Crema Catalana. Although, it  wasn't as delicious as the supreme tarta I ate in January, and, to be honest, it's difficult to find a commercial Burnt Cream to match my own!

On Saturday, I started with a gazpacho, which was perfect, especially given that I had arrived somewhat dehydrated from a trek through the Lambeth Country Show.

As we left, I said to the staff "See you again soon". A welcoming and relaxed restaurant with good food and friendly staff. 

*I hate it when restaurants do that - it's paying lip-service to some artifical notion of customer service. Good restaurants such as Boqueria are sufficiently observant to tell that customers who are chatting away and eating their food are probably very happy. Interrupting conversation diminishes this.

A trip to Richmond

Having occasional access to a car somehow means we have to use it. I no longer know why I suggested Richmond as a destination. Such a hassle to get there! Google maps suggests a 25 minute journey! What a joke: we encountered traffic congestion at Clapham and Wandsworth Common. We were stuck in near stationary traffic along the A3 and Roehampton Lane. It must have taken well over an hour, an hour and a half, maybe.

And when we got to the Park I felt fed up. So many people had their bikes with them, and we didn't. It would have been ideal cycling conditions. Bright and cloudy and reasonably warm. 

We drove for a while around the park, stopping at various points. I think our intention was to stop for coffee and then go for a walk, but it was just too crowded. I realise that that sounds silly, and it is, but we found a very busy café, so moved on. We found a stall selling ice creams and I had an indifferent coffee. But I think we both got fed up of people. A whole group of young adults clinging to each other by the ice-cream/coffee stall, scared of moving away in case of...goodness knows what, but blocking the way for everyone else. We saw an aggressive male driver in a van who yelled at a woman for exercising her right of way when he wanted to turn right in front of her. And the final straw - I was stood on a small traffic island about to cross the road when I realised that a group of four women walking side-by-side were heading straight at me and seemed to expect me to get out of their way. They were almost on top of me when I said 'Excuse me!'. One of them replied 'Oh!' as if surprised to hear an invisible voice. And they diverted their course. All this in a car park in a park with a 20 mph speed limit. Utterly scary that these people roam free on the public highway!

We wandered near the stables we had seen some weeks earlier when we approached from Wimbledon Common. A stables seems an excellent opportunity to take photos, but it's intrusive to take photos that clearly show people, especially when they are children. So I got a whole load of photos of the back ends of horses.

 

I was also amused childishly by this contraption and sign.

By a series of wrong turns and mishaps, we ended up at Richmond Hill, actually not very far from where we had entered the park. We realised that there was quite a view from there, and a pleasant-looking park. The sun had come out, and we found a parking space. Suddenly, the afternoon got a whole lot better! I had a vague recollection that 'quite a view' was somewhat of an understatement. Wikipedia claims that it is the only view in England to be protected by an Act of Parliament  - the Richmond, Ham and Petersham Open Spaces Act 1902, although many other views are protected under secondary legislation. And it's a pleasant park, although not frightfully large, falling away steeply from the road called Richmond Hill to Petersham Road alongside the river.

I was a little shocked to encounter this statue with a clearly naked arse, and perhaps even more shocked that this couple seemed entirely relaxed at their children looking at its front.

But the view of the river and across Petersham Meadows was more engaging:

 

 

The island is Glover's Island, one of many in the Thames - there's a good list here

I was impressed by the sight of this stadium, and trying to do the geography in my head, declared it to be Brentford's 13k capacity Griffin Park stadium. It is in fact Twickenham Stadium with its 82,000 capacity!

 

We descended into the park, which enabled a closer look at the Naked Statue, which is Aphrodite, also known as Bulbous Betty.

Today, she seems fairly harmless but the outcry 50 years ago resounded across the country, with letters dashed off to the editors of the Daily Mail and the Daily Telegraph. She was deemed unsuitable for Richmond, with fears about harmful effect on the morals of children and encouraging undesirables to the area. People were positively foaming at the mouth. “The lethargic damsel is suffering from dropsy and is hitch-hiking on the back of an obliging fish with the object of relieving her swollen ankles in the cool water.”

From A Nation of Prudes 

The park is pleasant if unremarkable:

     

 
We finished off in one of the nicest pubs we have ever been in, The Marlborough. It was only a pity we were driving, otherwise we could happily have stayed for much more than a pint. It was a large place but thoughtfully divided into different areas: dining room and conservatory as well as garden and bar. The garden was busy but didn't feel packed. On the walls were stern signs about behaving considerably - not asking a great deal but more than what some people consider normal. Despite enjoying my pint, I suffered envy at someone else's properly served tea. The food looked tempting, too: separate main and barbecue menus and specials, too. Not exactly cheap which gives some reassurance they're pitching with quality, not price.

Not really knowing the area by car, we got caught in congestion around Kew Green and ended up crossing the river and coming home via the A4, Earls Court and Chelsea Bridge. On the A4, specifically the elevated section, I feel as if I'm approaching a great city overseas. At this point, we were still six weeks away from the London 2012 Olympics, but there were already so many signs. I felt a frisson of excitement.