Stuck For Words...

Last week I went on holiday to Rome.

It was amazing.

I'd been before - 12 years ago - and we were bussed in and around the sights in the space of 2 days before travelling onto Florence. This time I stayed centrally for 4 whole days, took my guidebook and let myself wander and discover. To absorb Rome's piazzas, its pizza, its history and its espresso. Its exuberant and irrepressible spirit.

It was fabulous.

I came back Saturday night filled to the brim with vivid memories, and a squillion photos, to share.

And I really don't know where to start.

I'm stuck. Lost in so many experienes I can barely create any semblance of structure to transfer them (or at least some of them) from my mind's eye to yours.

This is really strange - I feel the urge to write about it all but can't seem get past the block. So while I'm working through this dilemma, I thought I'd share a titbit about my inspiration for the trip.

Roman Holiday is one of those wonderful, wonderful movies that makes me feel good all over and I curled up happily a few days before my departure to watch it all over again. Audrey Hepburn captures perfectly Rome's exuberant spirit and Gregory Peck's dashingly handsome Joe provides the perfect foil for her wide-eyed charm.

In reality Peck, so convinced by Hepburn's Oscar-winning performance, insisted that her name appear with his prior to the movie title and the two of them remained good friends until Hepburn's death in 1993.

There is a scene in the movie where Peck and Hepburn visit the Bocca della Veritas - the Mouth of Truth. You know the scene...where they play at truth-telling while putting their hand inside the mouth. (If you don't know this scene, shame on you!) Anyway, Peck convinced the director to let him play a prank on Hepburn by pretending that something grabbed his hand.

Neither told her.

So the young princess' squeal of terror and feisty yet delightful response was Hepburn's actual reaction to Peck's prank - and that marvellous scene, captured for all eternity, was filmed in one take.

And that, I think, sums up my Roman holiday...captured for all eternity.

Commuting Gems...Something To Aim For

Being a half Dutch person so to speak, most regular Gidday-ers will know that I have a finely tuned radar for all things clever clogs. Remember last year's excitement about Den Bosch catherdral's modern nod to the man upstairs?

Well, I was reading The Metro on the way to work last week when I came across yet another example of Dutch pragmatism and ingenuity. Apparently the fine folk at Schipol Airport had reached the end of their tether about men...well schhh-ing everywhere but where they should be schhh-ing. In the bowl, that is.

So what do you think they did?

They etched an image of a house fly in the bowl, giving the 'little gentlemen' something to aim for...and thereby 'increasing accuracy up to 80%'.

Brilliant!

And given I was in the land of the clogged just a day later, it got me thinking, I wonder what other clever things the Dutch have done? So I googled when I got home and here's what I found (on www.socyberty.com).

Father and son team Hans & Zacharias Janssen invented the first microscope so that they could see really small things. (Could they be related to Linda of Adventures in Expatland fame? It's a small world you know...)

Hans Lippershey invented the first telescope so he could see far away things. Given the Dutch liked to voyage, this is likely to have proved quite useful.
  
In the natural world, Jan Ingenhausz discovered the process of photosynthesis in 1779 and Anton van Leeuweenhoek was the first to observe bacteria in 1626. Not to put too finer point on it but these gents probably needed to get a life (and one of them new microscope things).

In the modern age, the compact disk appeared in Eindhoven in 1979 thanks to Dutch company Phillips and the company founded by rally driver Maurice Gatsonides developed the first 'road-rule-enforcement-camera' in the 1950s thus creating the concept of revenue-raising amongst local constabularies the world over.

And last but not certainly not least, the Dutch claim to have been the first to discover Australia with Willem Janszoon checking out the Gulf of Carpentaria - that's in the north bit - in 1606. No doubt helped by Lippershey's telescope.

In fact, did you know that Australia was called New Holland for almost 190 years? The monikker was first coined in 1644 by Dutch man-about-sea, Abel Tasman, and remained part of the lingo right up until 1837.

But interestingly it was the English who first colonised that big, brown, inhospitable land down under, landing in Sydney Cove on the 26th January, 1788.

Seems like everyone was aiming for a piece of the Lucky Country.

But the ultimate clever clogs, the piece d'resistance of going Dutch, struck me full in the face as I walked into Eindhoven airport on Wednesday afternoon...

And I am left wondering whether in fact, I grew up in the wrong lucky country!

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Part of the Post of the Month Club for June 2012

Inspired By...Local Colour

This afternoon I have been cosied up on the couch with the Diamond Jubilee River Pageant on telly in the background. The banks of the Thames are alive with cheering folk and British-themed bunting, adding a whole lot of local colour to an otherwise grey and drizzly London day.

But this is not a Jubilee post - having already given a nod to Her Majesty just last week - but rather a celebration of local colour right here in Fab Finchley...at our local railway station.

Finchley Central station is on the Northern Line (High Barnet branch) of the London Underground. It was originally opened in 1867 as Finchley & Hendon on a line that ran between Finsbury and Edgware. In 1872 a branch line to High Barnet was constructed and in 1894, the station was renamed Finchley (Church End). It was incorporated into the London Underground network during the 1930s and took its current name - Finchley Central - on April 1st, 1940.

Last night I went into London to see The Duchess of Malfi at The Old Vic so I set off to catch the tube from Finchley Central as usual. The early evening sky was traditional bank holiday grey and I whizzed through the ticket barrier, down the stairs and on to the open air platform hoping that the skies would not see fit to open upon my arrival there. (Contrary to popular belief, parts of the London Underground are not, in fact, under ground.) And not for the first time, I gasped softly in delight.

You see, Platform 3 (for trains travelling south to London) had been transformed into a riot of glorious Spring colour. I've seen this testament to green thumbed locals before but the last few weeks of rain - sun - rain has brought forth vibrant purples, bashful pinks, delicate whites and golden yellows in abundance. And as a picture paints a thousand words, here's a little photo tour for you that I prepared earlier (I love my HTC Desire):


This was my first glimpse - look at all that glorious colour!

Here's a little nod to the Olympics - but keep this under your hat. We wouldn't want the organisers to know!

There was some Union Jack-ery in evidence too...

...and a sweet attempt at prettying up 'Bill Steamshovel'.

There were also a few quirky critters dotted around.

There were a few of these piggy planters...



...a bee who'd come to see a man about a dog...

..and some sheep (a big 'un and a lil 'un).

And what's this hiding in the grass? More quirk-ery perhaps?

It looks to me like a bunny with ears made of carrots!

Isn't it pretty? There's real sense of pride - not to mention fun - evident as you walk along the length of the garden and I caught myself smiling as I discovered each of its quirky inhabitants.

So it's a big (green) thumbs up to the folk at Finchley Central Tube station for making my damp, grey evening just a little less grey. Well done old chaps!

Your 2012 Five A Day - June

So here we are. The 1st of June. Summer at last. 

Long days ending in lingering twilight.

A chilled Chablis. A long tall Pimms. A cheeky Gin & Tonic or two.

And maybe a little social over-excitement as we here in the UK try to cram as much celebratory drinking behaviour as possible into any one of those random summer days that deem the great British Isles worthy of their rays.

So get out there now and make short work of the grassy knoll that has become your back garden. Get the little people outdoors, fire up the barbie and put a few beers in the esky.

Just like Colin Carrot...

But remember to slip, slop, slap peeps.

                                     

 

 

Otherwise being half cut will be the least of your worries.

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