I’ve never been to church other than weddings, funerals or christenings but, as someone who is sad that Christianity is no longer going to be the dominant faith in England when my kids are grown up, I feel I should start.
I won’t though, the same way I like the independent shops in our High St and still order stuff cheaper online. When they’re gone I’ll miss them & complaint that people never used them, as my houses value plummets
I think it was Peter Hitchens who said we are basking in the afterglow of the old Christian England, but by doing nothing to preserve it we are destroying it.
The reality is that many local shops are more expensive than the chains or online delivery. It is up to us to pay that bit more. But I wouldn't dream of asking anyone to pay more because in my mind it's better to have an artisanal food shop nearby rather than go to Tescos.
I never take my phone to church, for starters using it in the services is rather rude, a bit like doing so in a play or a cinema or concert. So am not sure this tells us much
I take my mobile everywhere but switch it off or put it in silent mode where appropriate, such as at a church service.
I like to think that deep in Moscow/GCHQ/Langley someone is tracking my every move.
If i go for a long walk i switch my mobile off....feels more relaxing somehow.
Observation from an online Green Councillor friend in Oxford, to whom I have just been explaining the joys of Ashfield local politics.
Oh my this sounds like an extremely eventful constituency!
An additional interesting thing for us is that Conservatives, you know, the National party of govt still, haven’t stood this time in several wards (and didn’t stand against me). https://twitter.com/EmilyKerr36/status/1782089214147928248
Are Conservative Councillor Candidate numbers holding up everywhere, the world wonders?
The sort of question usually only AndyJS could answer.
There are 2,655 seats being fought - the Conservatives have 95% candidate coverage, Labour 91%, the Lib Dems 68% and the Greens 62%. Reform are only standing 12% of possible candidates.
Hence why the locals will be the start of the long decline of Reform as we head to the election. And much, though not all, of that will go back to Con.
Observation from an online Green Councillor friend in Oxford, to whom I have just been explaining the joys of Ashfield local politics.
Oh my this sounds like an extremely eventful constituency!
An additional interesting thing for us is that Conservatives, you know, the National party of govt still, haven’t stood this time in several wards (and didn’t stand against me). https://twitter.com/EmilyKerr36/status/1782089214147928248
Are Conservative Councillor Candidate numbers holding up everywhere, the world wonders?
The sort of question usually only AndyJS could answer.
There are 2,655 seats being fought - the Conservatives have 95% candidate coverage, Labour 91%, the Lib Dems 68% and the Greens 62%. Reform are only standing 12% of possible candidates.
Hence why the locals will be the start of the long decline of Reform as we head to the election. And much, though not all, of that will go back to Con.
For what it is worth, polling evidence suggests that only circa 35% of Reform voters would switch to the Tories were a candidate not to be standing. Moreover over 15% would vote Labour - so the net benefit to the Tories might be quite modest.
Also depends on whether Reform do actually stand candidates in 600+ seats.
UKIP managed 624 at their peak, Brexit bothered to stand in less than 300 last time.
I think they could get to 500+ if they want, it's probably easier to find someone to stand for Parliament than NowhereShire Borough Council.
Good point. Makes me think I might offer myself as the local Reform candidate just to take votes from the Tory, then campaign on my own version of their manifesto (including Rejoin the EU).
I’ve never been to church other than weddings, funerals or christenings but, as someone who is sad that Christianity is no longer going to be the dominant faith in England when my kids are grown up, I feel I should start.
I won’t though, the same way I like the independent shops in our High St and still order stuff cheaper online. When they’re gone I’ll miss them & complaint that people never used them, as my houses value plummets
I think it was Peter Hitchens who said we are basking in the afterglow of the old Christian England, but by doing nothing to preserve it we are destroying it.
The reality is that many local shops are more expensive than the chains or online delivery. It is up to us to pay that bit more. But I wouldn't dream of asking anyone to pay more because in my mind it's better to have an artisanal food shop nearby rather than go to Tescos.
The reality is that small, local shops *will* cost more. The economies of scale etc.
I'm very sorry to hear Andrew Mitchell sell his soul on the radio right now. A formerly decent man with knowledge of his subject area who must know the nonsense he is spewing. He should hang his head in shame."
I’ve never been to church other than weddings, funerals or christenings but, as someone who is sad that Christianity is no longer going to be the dominant faith in England when my kids are grown up, I feel I should start.
I won’t though, the same way I like the independent shops in our High St and still order stuff cheaper online. When they’re gone I’ll miss them & complaint that people never used them, as my houses value plummets
I think it was Peter Hitchens who said we are basking in the afterglow of the old Christian England, but by doing nothing to preserve it we are destroying it.
The problem is you can't really pretend to believe in something. Going to church when you don't believe in any of it would be slightly ridiculous.
There's a serious social/political issue here, actually.
There is a definite phenomenon of American Evangelicals who don't go to church. It can be pretty alarming.
In fact, people become even more entrenched in their political views when they stop attending services. Though churches have a reputation in some circles as promoting hyper-politicization, they can be depolarizing institutions. Being part of a religious community often forces people to get along with others—including others with different political views—and it may channel people’s efforts into charitable work or forms of community outreach that have little to do with politics. Leaving the community removes those moderating forces, opening the door to extremism.
As well as the loss of socialisation, there's the loss of contact with the teachings of that bloke who was nailed to a tree for saying how great it would be to be nice to people for a change.
You know, feeding the hungry, giving drinks to the thirsty, welcoming the stranger, that sort of thing.
As I agree with this more or less entirely it seems churlish to suggest that it is not the case that Jesus was crucified for saying we should be kind and nice to each other. I think it is more or less certain that he was seen, rightly or wrongly, as a threat to the civil order. The Roman justice system was not great, but it didn't execute people for teaching kindness.
The Roman justice system crucified Jesus because the mob demanded it, and so it was done for the sake of public order. Pilate washed his hands of the whole affair and gave the mob what they wanted. The Sermon on the Mount really does say that kindness is the root of goodness. Being tortured to death is more or less the exact opposite of the Christian ideal. If you deny the idea of kindness , I think it is pretty hard to be a Christian, whatever you say you are.
Observation from an online Green Councillor friend in Oxford, to whom I have just been explaining the joys of Ashfield local politics.
Oh my this sounds like an extremely eventful constituency!
An additional interesting thing for us is that Conservatives, you know, the National party of govt still, haven’t stood this time in several wards (and didn’t stand against me). https://twitter.com/EmilyKerr36/status/1782089214147928248
Are Conservative Councillor Candidate numbers holding up everywhere, the world wonders?
The sort of question usually only AndyJS could answer.
There are 2,655 seats being fought - the Conservatives have 95% candidate coverage, Labour 91%, the Lib Dems 68% and the Greens 62%. Reform are only standing 12% of possible candidates.
Hence why the locals will be the start of the long decline of Reform as we head to the election. And much, though not all, of that will go back to Con.
Observation from an online Green Councillor friend in Oxford, to whom I have just been explaining the joys of Ashfield local politics.
Oh my this sounds like an extremely eventful constituency!
An additional interesting thing for us is that Conservatives, you know, the National party of govt still, haven’t stood this time in several wards (and didn’t stand against me). https://twitter.com/EmilyKerr36/status/1782089214147928248
Are Conservative Councillor Candidate numbers holding up everywhere, the world wonders?
The sort of question usually only AndyJS could answer.
There are 2,655 seats being fought - the Conservatives have 95% candidate coverage, Labour 91%, the Lib Dems 68% and the Greens 62%. Reform are only standing 12% of possible candidates.
Hence why the locals will be the start of the long decline of Reform as we head to the election. And much, though not all, of that will go back to Con.
For what it is worth, polling evidence suggests that only circa 35% of Reform voters would switch to the Tories were a candidate not to be standing. Moreover over 15% would vote Labour - so the net benefit to the Tories might be quite modest.
Also depends on whether Reform do actually stand candidates in 600+ seats.
UKIP managed 624 at their peak, Brexit bothered to stand in less than 300 last time.
I think they could get to 500+ if they want, it's probably easier to find someone to stand for Parliament than NowhereShire Borough Council.
Good point. Makes me think I might offer myself as the local Reform candidate just to take votes from the Tory, then campaign on my own version of their manifesto (including Rejoin the EU).
To be fair, this VinFast outfit has an actual car, which they actually make, an actual car carrier ship and have actually imported some actual cars into the US.
This puts them way in front of about 95% of these EV startups. Remember when someone was launching a Tesla Killer every week?
Let me repeat, Florida is THE LEAST SOUTHERN of Southern States.
As for Virginia, most of Virginia outside of DC burbs is still culturally Southern. Whereas most of Floridan outside of the Panhandle and adjacent areas is NOT, and has not been for half a century.
Miami is a notoriously unfriendly city not southern at all.
I’ve never been to church other than weddings, funerals or christenings but, as someone who is sad that Christianity is no longer going to be the dominant faith in England when my kids are grown up, I feel I should start.
I won’t though, the same way I like the independent shops in our High St and still order stuff cheaper online. When they’re gone I’ll miss them & complaint that people never used them, as my houses value plummets
I think it was Peter Hitchens who said we are basking in the afterglow of the old Christian England, but by doing nothing to preserve it we are destroying it.
The problem is you can't really pretend to believe in something. Going to church when you don't believe in any of it would be slightly ridiculous.
This is true. I admire many of the good things that communal religion has had to offer, and the people I know inspired by it. You can find plenty of good messages in there (along with silly prohibitions on foodstuffs or whatever).
But I don't believe in the fundamental tenets of faith.
Something more cheerful - that thread on drinks and food in their natural surroundings
It’s true, a Philp’s Cornish pasty, fresh and warm and peppery from the bakery in Hayle, eaten on the sea wall, gazing at the waves, after a vigorous cliff top hike, is an absolute thing of beauty. Eaten at home for supper, hmm no. I mean, it’s OK. But you need that working man’s appetite, the salty sea air, the soft crust in your hand, the aaaahhhhh
A peaty Islay malt in front of a roaring fire in a baronial hotel somewhere in Hebrides after a day in the sad and misty loveliness, yes indeed
Maldon Oysters at the Maldon oyster shack on Mersea island, right on the River Blackwater where they have been gathered since Roman times, and celebrated
“The only good thing to come out of Britain is oysters” - Pliny
Asparagus from our garden. 15 food metres, 15 minutes from harvest to plate.
Good one
In the early summer of 2021 - still headfucked by Covid - i did my first post pandemic Gazette assignment. Eating food all along the East Anglian coast. Yes, it’s hard work, but someone etc
The very first meal was an amazing lunch in Burnham on Crouch where I ate the last of the local asparagus with unctuous hollandaise in a deicious and very English garden
Yes, English asparagus in England!
Cold Czech pilsener in a cobbled Bohemian square in the August heat. Perfect
Salad Nicoise on a blazing summer day in a Provençal town looking down on Nice, itself
The coldest daytime temperature recorded in France today was…Nice. 4.4C during a hailstorm.
22.4C was the day's high temperature today in SW Ireland - sausages from the local piggery at Gubbeen part of dinner.
And my appreciation of this fine weather heightened by a long winter of endless rain.
To be fair, this VinFast outfit has an actual car, which they actually make, an actual car carrier ship and have actually imported some actual cars into the US.
This puts them way in front of about 95% of these EV startups. Remember when someone was launching a Tesla Killer every week?
Do these 'Tesla killers' have accelerator pedals that don't threaten to kill people?
I mean, if you cannot even get the peddle correct....
Something more cheerful - that thread on drinks and food in their natural surroundings
It’s true, a Philp’s Cornish pasty, fresh and warm and peppery from the bakery in Hayle, eaten on the sea wall, gazing at the waves, after a vigorous cliff top hike, is an absolute thing of beauty. Eaten at home for supper, hmm no. I mean, it’s OK. But you need that working man’s appetite, the salty sea air, the soft crust in your hand, the aaaahhhhh
A peaty Islay malt in front of a roaring fire in a baronial hotel somewhere in Hebrides after a day in the sad and misty loveliness, yes indeed
Maldon Oysters at the Maldon oyster shack on Mersea island, right on the River Blackwater where they have been gathered since Roman times, and celebrated
“The only good thing to come out of Britain is oysters” - Pliny
Oh btw. Your wrong. And right.
A day spent in a colder than usual Paris certainly its fair share of yuk including the gentleman lying in his own vomit outside GdN. Coming into town on the Metro no particular issues could have been the Central line if the Central line were roomier and less ghastly. A gang of African youths apologising profusely to the older woman they had inadvertently bumped into while chatting.
Emerging at Argentine to make my way to my hotel I was met by nothing more or less than a bustling capital city with all that that entails, and then, closer to my hotel the magic arose. Higgledy Piggledy bars and cafes, spilling out onto the streets as they do, full of seemingly attractive people, moreso than you'd find in Dalston, and going to the most bog standard of bog standard brasseries for supper and it being fantastic, good burger, phenomenal chips and the patron brought over a liqueur to aid sleep. Then walking out into the mid-evening sunshine whereunder everything was given a further golden sheen.
Lovely.
So utterly predictable. You have to go out and NOTICE
You took one metro line to a brasserie you know in a nice neighbourhood you like. Brilliant. Your Pulitzer Prize awaits
I’ve never been to church other than weddings, funerals or christenings but, as someone who is sad that Christianity is no longer going to be the dominant faith in England when my kids are grown up, I feel I should start.
I won’t though, the same way I like the independent shops in our High St and still order stuff cheaper online. When they’re gone I’ll miss them & complaint that people never used them, as my houses value plummets
I think it was Peter Hitchens who said we are basking in the afterglow of the old Christian England, but by doing nothing to preserve it we are destroying it.
The problem is you can't really pretend to believe in something. Going to church when you don't believe in any of it would be slightly ridiculous.
In rural areas some small villages and hamlets no longer even have a pub or shop or school now but they still have a Parish church (even if they only get a service there once a month on rotation). Going to their local church is therefore one of the few ways they meet other members of the village or hamlet reasonably regularly in person
I’ve never been to church other than weddings, funerals or christenings but, as someone who is sad that Christianity is no longer going to be the dominant faith in England when my kids are grown up, I feel I should start.
I won’t though, the same way I like the independent shops in our High St and still order stuff cheaper online. When they’re gone I’ll miss them & complaint that people never used them, as my houses value plummets
I think it was Peter Hitchens who said we are basking in the afterglow of the old Christian England, but by doing nothing to preserve it we are destroying it.
The problem is you can't really pretend to believe in something. Going to church when you don't believe in any of it would be slightly ridiculous.
Not that uncommon! Just look at parents trying to get their nippers into a Church school.
But if you do, beware it might start to grow on you. Not everyone gets a revelation in a blinding flash out of the blue, indeed even many great religious teachers spend years searching and preparing their minds.
Indeed part of my spiritual journey was by studying the KJV as literature, and finding things that I didn't expect that really resonated.
I’ve never been to church other than weddings, funerals or christenings but, as someone who is sad that Christianity is no longer going to be the dominant faith in England when my kids are grown up, I feel I should start.
I won’t though, the same way I like the independent shops in our High St and still order stuff cheaper online. When they’re gone I’ll miss them & complaint that people never used them, as my houses value plummets
I think it was Peter Hitchens who said we are basking in the afterglow of the old Christian England, but by doing nothing to preserve it we are destroying it.
The problem is you can't really pretend to believe in something. Going to church when you don't believe in any of it would be slightly ridiculous.
Not really. I have been to church several times this and last year. For funerals and weddings sadly and happily. I have no problem with it it is a matter of respect.
I mean I wouldn't go on a Sunday morning when people seem actually to believe all the Jesus is within you bolleaux but each to their own.
Very funny did anyone see the post fight, in ring interviews with Ryan Garcia and Devin Haney over the weekend. Garcia was immediately thanks be to god and god is in my left hook and when I deploy it god doesn't f**k about, etc while Haney was hamdulilah Allah declares it to be so.
Garcia won if anyone is interested although I'm not sure what that tells us about global geo-politics or the clash of civilisations.
My usual French food experience so far on this trip
Traditional Parisian brasserie food: as good as ever. Red velvet banquettes. Steak tartare and chips. Brilliantly warming onion soup with cheesy croutons. Its not going to get noticed but often its all you want and need
Cheap fast food: same as everywhere - everyone in Paris now goes to Pret A Manger. The symbol of new globalisation. A British sandwich chain with a French name now colonising Paris
Now I’m in a locally celebrated hotel-restaurant in Brittany. It’s ambitious and a tiny bit fusion. And it’s decidedly meh. Fussy yet under flavoured and you’d almost certainly get better in the British equivalent
I’ve never been to church other than weddings, funerals or christenings but, as someone who is sad that Christianity is no longer going to be the dominant faith in England when my kids are grown up, I feel I should start.
I won’t though, the same way I like the independent shops in our High St and still order stuff cheaper online. When they’re gone I’ll miss them & complaint that people never used them, as my houses value plummets
I think it was Peter Hitchens who said we are basking in the afterglow of the old Christian England, but by doing nothing to preserve it we are destroying it.
The problem is you can't really pretend to believe in something. Going to church when you don't believe in any of it would be slightly ridiculous.
In rural areas some small villages and hamlets no longer even have a pub or shop or school now but they still have a Parish church (even if they only get a service there once a month on rotation). Going to their local church is therefore one of the few ways they meet other members of the village or hamlet reasonably regularly in person
Welcome to our village: No shop, no pub, no school, and even the church has closed and been sold off for conversion into a house. And that's a village of over 400 people.
There is no hope for the future either because the lack of those facilities means that the council has decided no further buildings can be built in our village. So we are frozen in our state of decline.
I’ve never been to church other than weddings, funerals or christenings but, as someone who is sad that Christianity is no longer going to be the dominant faith in England when my kids are grown up, I feel I should start.
I won’t though, the same way I like the independent shops in our High St and still order stuff cheaper online. When they’re gone I’ll miss them & complaint that people never used them, as my houses value plummets
I think it was Peter Hitchens who said we are basking in the afterglow of the old Christian England, but by doing nothing to preserve it we are destroying it.
The problem is you can't really pretend to believe in something. Going to church when you don't believe in any of it would be slightly ridiculous.
Not that uncommon! Just look at parents trying to get their nippers into a Church school.
But if you do, beware it might start to grow on you. Not everyone gets a revelation in a blinding flash out of the blue, indeed even many great religious teachers spend years searching and preparing their minds.
Indeed part of my spiritual journey was by studying the KJV as literature, and finding things that I didn't expect that really resonated.
I recently attended an event which I'm pretty sure must have been organised by a church group or something, as lots of people talked about their faith at it, and it was quite illuminating in some ways, hearing them talk in a way which very clearly presumed everyone present was a believer and on board with certain positions.
It reinforced my view that a lot of (not all) theists and atheists have not the slightest understanding of each other's positions.
To be fair, this VinFast outfit has an actual car, which they actually make, an actual car carrier ship and have actually imported some actual cars into the US.
This puts them way in front of about 95% of these EV startups. Remember when someone was launching a Tesla Killer every week?
Do these 'Tesla killers' have accelerator pedals that don't threaten to kill people?
I mean, if you cannot even get the peddle correct....
The majority of them had the inventive safety feature of… not actually making any cars.
Bit like the Best Hospital in The NHS - St Edward’s.
I’ve never been to church other than weddings, funerals or christenings but, as someone who is sad that Christianity is no longer going to be the dominant faith in England when my kids are grown up, I feel I should start.
I won’t though, the same way I like the independent shops in our High St and still order stuff cheaper online. When they’re gone I’ll miss them & complaint that people never used them, as my houses value plummets
I think it was Peter Hitchens who said we are basking in the afterglow of the old Christian England, but by doing nothing to preserve it we are destroying it.
The problem is you can't really pretend to believe in something. Going to church when you don't believe in any of it would be slightly ridiculous.
In rural areas some small villages and hamlets no longer even have a pub or shop or school now but they still have a Parish church (even if they only get a service there once a month on rotation). Going to their local church is therefore one of the few ways they meet other members of the village or hamlet reasonably regularly in person
Welcome to our village: No shop, no pub, no school, and even the church has closed and been sold off for conversion into a house. And that's a village of over 400 people.
There is no hope for the future either because the lack of those facilities means that the council has decided no further buildings can be built in our village. So we are frozen in our state of decline.
Use them or lose them basically, otherwise your village just becomes a glorified retirement community with a few farmers nearby
My usual French food experience so far on this trip
Traditional Parisian brasserie food: as good as ever. Red velvet banquettes. Steak tartare and chips. Brilliantly warming onion soup with cheesy croutons. Its not going to get noticed but often its all you want and need
Cheap fast food: same as everywhere - everyone in Paris now goes to Pret A Manger. The symbol of new globalisation. A British sandwich chain with a French name now colonising Paris
Now I’m in a locally celebrated hotel-restaurant in Brittany. It’s ambitious and a tiny bit fusion. And it’s decidedly meh. Fussy yet under flavoured and you’d almost certainly get better in the British equivalent
Our recent experience of Parisian brasserie food was like yours: as good as ever. But pricey now - gone are the days when you felt you were getting a bargain.
I’ve never been to church other than weddings, funerals or christenings but, as someone who is sad that Christianity is no longer going to be the dominant faith in England when my kids are grown up, I feel I should start.
I won’t though, the same way I like the independent shops in our High St and still order stuff cheaper online. When they’re gone I’ll miss them & complaint that people never used them, as my houses value plummets
I think it was Peter Hitchens who said we are basking in the afterglow of the old Christian England, but by doing nothing to preserve it we are destroying it.
The problem is you can't really pretend to believe in something. Going to church when you don't believe in any of it would be slightly ridiculous.
In rural areas some small villages and hamlets no longer even have a pub or shop or school now but they still have a Parish church (even if they only get a service there once a month on rotation). Going to their local church is therefore one of the few ways they meet other members of the village or hamlet reasonably regularly in person
Welcome to our village: No shop, no pub, no school, and even the church has closed and been sold off for conversion into a house. And that's a village of over 400 people.
There is no hope for the future either because the lack of those facilities means that the council has decided no further buildings can be built in our village. So we are frozen in our state of decline.
Use them or lose them basically, otherwise your village just becomes a glorified retirement community with a few farmers nearby
Well yes but there's no route for a way back. If somebody wanted to build a new shop or pub they would not be allowed by Dorset (in our case) Council. That is madness.
I went to my Birkbeck graduation today. Joan Blackwell, the college President, gave the address - albeit by videolink. I have to say that I hope I’m doing as well as her at 91. She’s understandably retiring from the post this year but she looked like she could carry on!
Something more cheerful - that thread on drinks and food in their natural surroundings
It’s true, a Philp’s Cornish pasty, fresh and warm and peppery from the bakery in Hayle, eaten on the sea wall, gazing at the waves, after a vigorous cliff top hike, is an absolute thing of beauty. Eaten at home for supper, hmm no. I mean, it’s OK. But you need that working man’s appetite, the salty sea air, the soft crust in your hand, the aaaahhhhh
A peaty Islay malt in front of a roaring fire in a baronial hotel somewhere in Hebrides after a day in the sad and misty loveliness, yes indeed
Maldon Oysters at the Maldon oyster shack on Mersea island, right on the River Blackwater where they have been gathered since Roman times, and celebrated
“The only good thing to come out of Britain is oysters” - Pliny
Asparagus from our garden. 15 food metres, 15 minutes from harvest to plate.
Mine from the allotment is about 400 yards. Tips were just showing on Saturday, so will check tomorrow in hope. Crowns have been in for five years now, so starting to quite productive. I love asparagus season! It’s also usually cheap in the supermarkets too.
To be fair, this VinFast outfit has an actual car, which they actually make, an actual car carrier ship and have actually imported some actual cars into the US.
This puts them way in front of about 95% of these EV startups. Remember when someone was launching a Tesla Killer every week?
Do these 'Tesla killers' have accelerator pedals that don't threaten to kill people?
I mean, if you cannot even get the peddle correct....
The majority of them had the inventive safety feature of… not actually making any cars.
Bit like the Best Hospital in The NHS - St Edward’s.
Are you actually defending Tesla over that? Or the Cyberfuck as a whole?
My usual French food experience so far on this trip
Traditional Parisian brasserie food: as good as ever. Red velvet banquettes. Steak tartare and chips. Brilliantly warming onion soup with cheesy croutons. Its not going to get noticed but often its all you want and need
Cheap fast food: same as everywhere - everyone in Paris now goes to Pret A Manger. The symbol of new globalisation. A British sandwich chain with a French name now colonising Paris
Now I’m in a locally celebrated hotel-restaurant in Brittany. It’s ambitious and a tiny bit fusion. And it’s decidedly meh. Fussy yet under flavoured and you’d almost certainly get better in the British equivalent
Our recent experience of Parisian brasserie food was like yours: as good as ever. But pricey now - gone are the days when you felt you were getting a bargain.
I still love it though.
Yes. Pricey. Onion soup and steak tartare for one, 2 gin and tonics. €75
That’s a fuck of a lot given the likely food cost, and you’re certainly not paying for the talent of a clever chef using the best ingredients
France is not a really great food destination any more. You can eat better and certainly cheaper in many countries
If you want incredible food at incredible prices: Cambodia. Mind blowingly good and it costs about a fifth what you would pay in Paris, and ITS NEVER FROZEN
Something more cheerful - that thread on drinks and food in their natural surroundings
It’s true, a Philp’s Cornish pasty, fresh and warm and peppery from the bakery in Hayle, eaten on the sea wall, gazing at the waves, after a vigorous cliff top hike, is an absolute thing of beauty. Eaten at home for supper, hmm no. I mean, it’s OK. But you need that working man’s appetite, the salty sea air, the soft crust in your hand, the aaaahhhhh
A peaty Islay malt in front of a roaring fire in a baronial hotel somewhere in Hebrides after a day in the sad and misty loveliness, yes indeed
Maldon Oysters at the Maldon oyster shack on Mersea island, right on the River Blackwater where they have been gathered since Roman times, and celebrated
“The only good thing to come out of Britain is oysters” - Pliny
Oh btw. Your wrong. And right.
A day spent in a colder than usual Paris certainly its fair share of yuk including the gentleman lying in his own vomit outside GdN. Coming into town on the Metro no particular issues could have been the Central line if the Central line were roomier and less ghastly. A gang of African youths apologising profusely to the older woman they had inadvertently bumped into while chatting.
Emerging at Argentine to make my way to my hotel I was met by nothing more or less than a bustling capital city with all that that entails, and then, closer to my hotel the magic arose. Higgledy Piggledy bars and cafes, spilling out onto the streets as they do, full of seemingly attractive people, moreso than you'd find in Dalston, and going to the most bog standard of bog standard brasseries for supper and it being fantastic, good burger, phenomenal chips and the patron brought over a liqueur to aid sleep. Then walking out into the mid-evening sunshine whereunder everything was given a further golden sheen.
Lovely.
So utterly predictable. You have to go out and NOTICE
You took one metro line to a brasserie you know in a nice neighbourhood you like. Brilliant. Your Pulitzer Prize awaits
I come here for the encouragement and kindness Leon invariably shows his fellow posters.
Post Office scandal: Investigation that cleared CEO ‘ignored key witnesses’
Nick Read was cleared of misconduct after whistleblowing complaint by Jane Davies, the company’s former HR director
An investigation into the Post Office chief executive did not interview the complainant’s key witnesses and kept her in the dark, MPs have been told.
Last week Nick Read, who has run the company since 2019, was exonerated of a “myriad charge sheet” set out in a whistleblowing complaint by Jane Davies, the company’s former HR director.
The existence of the investigation into Read was made public earlier in February by the organisation’s former chairman, Henry Staunton, who was sacked by Kemi Badenoch, the business secretary, in January.
Do NOT be shocked WHEN next lawyers popping up in court(s) representing Donald Trump, are sporting Brit accents.
OR when Kemi Badenoch appears as warm-up act for Donald Trump at some MAGA-maniac jamboree.
I actually think that Donald Trump might do a bit better with a UK firm of solicitors. He does seem to select some remarkably incompetent lawyers. British ones would be amoral and start with the handicap of their accents and accidentally calling the judge 'M'Ludd', but they couldn't be much worse.
John Thaw, greatest television actor of his day. But the video is blocked "in your country". Rumpole went to the great state of Florida as well. Filming subsidies?
Most of the Brits I met in Britain who'd been to America had been to Florida. Especially true of working-class folks.
So setting an American episode of a Brit TV series in Florida makes sense from Brit-audience perspective.
I would like to proudly state that I have been to America but never been to Florida.
Nothing to be proud of, seeing as how Florida is a great state and VERY diverse state.
Check it out some time! Personally fond of St Augustine and the Redneck Riviera.
Completely out of context Dylan...
I dreamed I saw St. Augustine Alive as you or me Tearing through these quarters In the utmost misery
My usual French food experience so far on this trip
Traditional Parisian brasserie food: as good as ever. Red velvet banquettes. Steak tartare and chips. Brilliantly warming onion soup with cheesy croutons. Its not going to get noticed but often its all you want and need
Cheap fast food: same as everywhere - everyone in Paris now goes to Pret A Manger. The symbol of new globalisation. A British sandwich chain with a French name now colonising Paris
Now I’m in a locally celebrated hotel-restaurant in Brittany. It’s ambitious and a tiny bit fusion. And it’s decidedly meh. Fussy yet under flavoured and you’d almost certainly get better in the British equivalent
Have you tried the French Tacos?, if you fancy something different in the way of fast food, albeit hardly a health food. Nothing to do with Mexican Tacos, and part of understanding modern French street culture.
I’ve never been to church other than weddings, funerals or christenings but, as someone who is sad that Christianity is no longer going to be the dominant faith in England when my kids are grown up, I feel I should start.
I won’t though, the same way I like the independent shops in our High St and still order stuff cheaper online. When they’re gone I’ll miss them & complaint that people never used them, as my houses value plummets
I think it was Peter Hitchens who said we are basking in the afterglow of the old Christian England, but by doing nothing to preserve it we are destroying it.
The problem is you can't really pretend to believe in something. Going to church when you don't believe in any of it would be slightly ridiculous.
In rural areas some small villages and hamlets no longer even have a pub or shop or school now but they still have a Parish church (even if they only get a service there once a month on rotation). Going to their local church is therefore one of the few ways they meet other members of the village or hamlet reasonably regularly in person
You obviously don't live in one. Small villages and hamlets all have very lively and active whatsapp and facebook groups and organise all kinds of activities. Moreso if they are smaller. Going to the local church absolutely does bring a small percentage of them together, and activities are often arranged about the church but you are as likely to have gardening groups and arts & crafts and coffee mornings and "Women of...." groups also.
You should get out more. The church is a teeny tiny part of modern rural life.
Something more cheerful - that thread on drinks and food in their natural surroundings
It’s true, a Philp’s Cornish pasty, fresh and warm and peppery from the bakery in Hayle, eaten on the sea wall, gazing at the waves, after a vigorous cliff top hike, is an absolute thing of beauty. Eaten at home for supper, hmm no. I mean, it’s OK. But you need that working man’s appetite, the salty sea air, the soft crust in your hand, the aaaahhhhh
A peaty Islay malt in front of a roaring fire in a baronial hotel somewhere in Hebrides after a day in the sad and misty loveliness, yes indeed
Maldon Oysters at the Maldon oyster shack on Mersea island, right on the River Blackwater where they have been gathered since Roman times, and celebrated
“The only good thing to come out of Britain is oysters” - Pliny
Asparagus from our garden. 15 food metres, 15 minutes from harvest to plate.
Mine from the allotment is about 400 yards. Tips were just showing on Saturday, so will check tomorrow in hope. Crowns have been in for five years now, so starting to quite productive. I love asparagus season! It’s also usually cheap in the supermarkets too.
Last time I asked about a local allotment I was told the waiting list was somewhere between 15-50 years depending how lucky I got (and I guess how unlucky the existing allotment owners were).
My usual French food experience so far on this trip
Traditional Parisian brasserie food: as good as ever. Red velvet banquettes. Steak tartare and chips. Brilliantly warming onion soup with cheesy croutons. Its not going to get noticed but often its all you want and need
Cheap fast food: same as everywhere - everyone in Paris now goes to Pret A Manger. The symbol of new globalisation. A British sandwich chain with a French name now colonising Paris
Now I’m in a locally celebrated hotel-restaurant in Brittany. It’s ambitious and a tiny bit fusion. And it’s decidedly meh. Fussy yet under flavoured and you’d almost certainly get better in the British equivalent
Have you tried the French Tacos?, if you fancy something different in the way of fast food, albeit hardly a health food. Nothing to do with Mexican Tacos, and part of understanding modern French street culture.
If it’s as bad as French “Indian curry” then no ta
Something more cheerful - that thread on drinks and food in their natural surroundings
It’s true, a Philp’s Cornish pasty, fresh and warm and peppery from the bakery in Hayle, eaten on the sea wall, gazing at the waves, after a vigorous cliff top hike, is an absolute thing of beauty. Eaten at home for supper, hmm no. I mean, it’s OK. But you need that working man’s appetite, the salty sea air, the soft crust in your hand, the aaaahhhhh
A peaty Islay malt in front of a roaring fire in a baronial hotel somewhere in Hebrides after a day in the sad and misty loveliness, yes indeed
Maldon Oysters at the Maldon oyster shack on Mersea island, right on the River Blackwater where they have been gathered since Roman times, and celebrated
“The only good thing to come out of Britain is oysters” - Pliny
Asparagus from our garden. 15 food metres, 15 minutes from harvest to plate.
Mine from the allotment is about 400 yards. Tips were just showing on Saturday, so will check tomorrow in hope. Crowns have been in for five years now, so starting to quite productive. I love asparagus season! It’s also usually cheap in the supermarkets too.
Last time I asked about a local allotment I was told the waiting list was somewhere between 15-50 years depending how lucky I got (and I guess how unlucky the existing allotment owners were).
If that has not been the set up for a Midsomer Murders episode I will be astonished.
Something more cheerful - that thread on drinks and food in their natural surroundings
It’s true, a Philp’s Cornish pasty, fresh and warm and peppery from the bakery in Hayle, eaten on the sea wall, gazing at the waves, after a vigorous cliff top hike, is an absolute thing of beauty. Eaten at home for supper, hmm no. I mean, it’s OK. But you need that working man’s appetite, the salty sea air, the soft crust in your hand, the aaaahhhhh
A peaty Islay malt in front of a roaring fire in a baronial hotel somewhere in Hebrides after a day in the sad and misty loveliness, yes indeed
Maldon Oysters at the Maldon oyster shack on Mersea island, right on the River Blackwater where they have been gathered since Roman times, and celebrated
“The only good thing to come out of Britain is oysters” - Pliny
Asparagus from our garden. 15 food metres, 15 minutes from harvest to plate.
Mine from the allotment is about 400 yards. Tips were just showing on Saturday, so will check tomorrow in hope. Crowns have been in for five years now, so starting to quite productive. I love asparagus season! It’s also usually cheap in the supermarkets too.
You are entering a 10+ year golden period with your asparagus. First 5 years it was an occasional treat, now we will be eating asparagus every 2nd or 3rd day for the next two months.
And it is so much better than supermarket asparagus. Whether that's because they force theirs, use less flavoured, more productive varieties, or it's due to the inevitable delay between cutting and eating, I don't know. But nothing beats our own asparagus.
Something more cheerful - that thread on drinks and food in their natural surroundings
It’s true, a Philp’s Cornish pasty, fresh and warm and peppery from the bakery in Hayle, eaten on the sea wall, gazing at the waves, after a vigorous cliff top hike, is an absolute thing of beauty. Eaten at home for supper, hmm no. I mean, it’s OK. But you need that working man’s appetite, the salty sea air, the soft crust in your hand, the aaaahhhhh
A peaty Islay malt in front of a roaring fire in a baronial hotel somewhere in Hebrides after a day in the sad and misty loveliness, yes indeed
Maldon Oysters at the Maldon oyster shack on Mersea island, right on the River Blackwater where they have been gathered since Roman times, and celebrated
“The only good thing to come out of Britain is oysters” - Pliny
Oh btw. Your wrong. And right.
A day spent in a colder than usual Paris certainly its fair share of yuk including the gentleman lying in his own vomit outside GdN. Coming into town on the Metro no particular issues could have been the Central line if the Central line were roomier and less ghastly. A gang of African youths apologising profusely to the older woman they had inadvertently bumped into while chatting.
Emerging at Argentine to make my way to my hotel I was met by nothing more or less than a bustling capital city with all that that entails, and then, closer to my hotel the magic arose. Higgledy Piggledy bars and cafes, spilling out onto the streets as they do, full of seemingly attractive people, moreso than you'd find in Dalston, and going to the most bog standard of bog standard brasseries for supper and it being fantastic, good burger, phenomenal chips and the patron brought over a liqueur to aid sleep. Then walking out into the mid-evening sunshine whereunder everything was given a further golden sheen.
Lovely.
So utterly predictable. You have to go out and NOTICE
You took one metro line to a brasserie you know in a nice neighbourhood you like. Brilliant. Your Pulitzer Prize awaits
I didn't know the brasserie just walked in off the street. Never been to it before in my life. But fantastic burger and chips I eschewed the french onion soup. Had walked there, let's say 20 mins from my hotel. And yes it's around Ternes but weren't you yesterday saying how even the nice neighbourhoods were shite. I believe you were. And they aren't.
And I was doing a lot of noticing tyvm. But normal, out and about aware noticing, not professional noticing whereby you conjure up things that aren't there so that you can notice them and then write about them.
There's a serious social/political issue here, actually.
There is a definite phenomenon of American Evangelicals who don't go to church. It can be pretty alarming.
In fact, people become even more entrenched in their political views when they stop attending services. Though churches have a reputation in some circles as promoting hyper-politicization, they can be depolarizing institutions. Being part of a religious community often forces people to get along with others—including others with different political views—and it may channel people’s efforts into charitable work or forms of community outreach that have little to do with politics. Leaving the community removes those moderating forces, opening the door to extremism.
As well as the loss of socialisation, there's the loss of contact with the teachings of that bloke who was nailed to a tree for saying how great it would be to be nice to people for a change.
You know, feeding the hungry, giving drinks to the thirsty, welcoming the stranger, that sort of thing.
As I agree with this more or less entirely it seems churlish to suggest that it is not the case that Jesus was crucified for saying we should be kind and nice to each other. I think it is more or less certain that he was seen, rightly or wrongly, as a threat to the civil order. The Roman justice system was not great, but it didn't execute people for teaching kindness.
The gospels indicate that he was crucified as a sop to the natives. He was considered a threat to the pharisees, and therefore they badgered Pilate to have him crucified, an act which the man therefore famously 'washed his hands' of.
I don’t understand why French towns aren’t flooded with brilliant Vietnamese and Cambodian restaurants. The same way Britain has gained so much from Indian and Hong Kong Chinese. It’s one of the “benefits” of the imperial experience
I presume it’s French exceptionalism again. “Our food is the best in the world we don’t need to learn anything”
Post Office scandal: Investigation that cleared CEO ‘ignored key witnesses’
Nick Read was cleared of misconduct after whistleblowing complaint by Jane Davies, the company’s former HR director
An investigation into the Post Office chief executive did not interview the complainant’s key witnesses and kept her in the dark, MPs have been told.
Last week Nick Read, who has run the company since 2019, was exonerated of a “myriad charge sheet” set out in a whistleblowing complaint by Jane Davies, the company’s former HR director.
The existence of the investigation into Read was made public earlier in February by the organisation’s former chairman, Henry Staunton, who was sacked by Kemi Badenoch, the business secretary, in January.
Do NOT be shocked WHEN next lawyers popping up in court(s) representing Donald Trump, are sporting Brit accents.
OR when Kemi Badenoch appears as warm-up act for Donald Trump at some MAGA-maniac jamboree.
I actually think that Donald Trump might do a bit better with a UK firm of solicitors. He does seem to select some remarkably incompetent lawyers. British ones would be amoral and start with the handicap of their accents and accidentally calling the judge 'M'Ludd', but they couldn't be much worse.
John Thaw, greatest television actor of his day. But the video is blocked "in your country". Rumpole went to the great state of Florida as well. Filming subsidies?
Was Rumpole actually in Forida, or filmed in the UK with some potted palms and the standard US-actors-who-live-here called in?
Camber Sands in February stood in for the Sahara Desert in Carry On Follow That Camel.
Shooting had to be halted several times because there was snow on the sands.
There's a serious social/political issue here, actually.
There is a definite phenomenon of American Evangelicals who don't go to church. It can be pretty alarming.
In fact, people become even more entrenched in their political views when they stop attending services. Though churches have a reputation in some circles as promoting hyper-politicization, they can be depolarizing institutions. Being part of a religious community often forces people to get along with others—including others with different political views—and it may channel people’s efforts into charitable work or forms of community outreach that have little to do with politics. Leaving the community removes those moderating forces, opening the door to extremism.
As well as the loss of socialisation, there's the loss of contact with the teachings of that bloke who was nailed to a tree for saying how great it would be to be nice to people for a change.
You know, feeding the hungry, giving drinks to the thirsty, welcoming the stranger, that sort of thing.
As I agree with this more or less entirely it seems churlish to suggest that it is not the case that Jesus was crucified for saying we should be kind and nice to each other. I think it is more or less certain that he was seen, rightly or wrongly, as a threat to the civil order. The Roman justice system was not great, but it didn't execute people for teaching kindness.
The gospels indicate that he was crucified as a sop to the natives. He was considered a threat to the pharisees, and therefore they badgered Pilate to have him crucified, and act which the man therefore famously 'washed his hands' of.
It is a plausible reaction for a middle manager position.
Something more cheerful - that thread on drinks and food in their natural surroundings
It’s true, a Philp’s Cornish pasty, fresh and warm and peppery from the bakery in Hayle, eaten on the sea wall, gazing at the waves, after a vigorous cliff top hike, is an absolute thing of beauty. Eaten at home for supper, hmm no. I mean, it’s OK. But you need that working man’s appetite, the salty sea air, the soft crust in your hand, the aaaahhhhh
A peaty Islay malt in front of a roaring fire in a baronial hotel somewhere in Hebrides after a day in the sad and misty loveliness, yes indeed
Maldon Oysters at the Maldon oyster shack on Mersea island, right on the River Blackwater where they have been gathered since Roman times, and celebrated
“The only good thing to come out of Britain is oysters” - Pliny
Asparagus from our garden. 15 food metres, 15 minutes from harvest to plate.
Mine from the allotment is about 400 yards. Tips were just showing on Saturday, so will check tomorrow in hope. Crowns have been in for five years now, so starting to quite productive. I love asparagus season! It’s also usually cheap in the supermarkets too.
Last time I asked about a local allotment I was told the waiting list was somewhere between 15-50 years depending how lucky I got (and I guess how unlucky the existing allotment owners were).
I was quite lucky when I got it. I knew there was a list but put in my request. I was offered one within weeks as the first on the list thought it ‘too weedy- couldn’t someone sort it out for me’, which I thought was hilarious. We are lucky that there site is huge probably over a hundred plots of various sizes (the old big plots have been divided over the years to suit the tastes of the time pressured modern allotment gardener) so the list is fairly short still, and the turnover on some plots is rather high. One, next to mine, seems to be on its fourth ‘owner’ in five years. I think people sometimes fail to realise how you need to keep on top of things.
I went to my Birkbeck graduation today. Joan Blackwell, the college President, gave the address - albeit by videolink. I have to say that I hope I’m doing as well as her at 91. She’s understandably retiring from the post this year but she looked like she could carry on!
I meant of course Joan Bakewell. They’ll probably ask me for my degree back after that error…
Something more cheerful - that thread on drinks and food in their natural surroundings
It’s true, a Philp’s Cornish pasty, fresh and warm and peppery from the bakery in Hayle, eaten on the sea wall, gazing at the waves, after a vigorous cliff top hike, is an absolute thing of beauty. Eaten at home for supper, hmm no. I mean, it’s OK. But you need that working man’s appetite, the salty sea air, the soft crust in your hand, the aaaahhhhh
A peaty Islay malt in front of a roaring fire in a baronial hotel somewhere in Hebrides after a day in the sad and misty loveliness, yes indeed
Maldon Oysters at the Maldon oyster shack on Mersea island, right on the River Blackwater where they have been gathered since Roman times, and celebrated
“The only good thing to come out of Britain is oysters” - Pliny
Oh btw. Your wrong. And right.
A day spent in a colder than usual Paris certainly its fair share of yuk including the gentleman lying in his own vomit outside GdN. Coming into town on the Metro no particular issues could have been the Central line if the Central line were roomier and less ghastly. A gang of African youths apologising profusely to the older woman they had inadvertently bumped into while chatting.
Emerging at Argentine to make my way to my hotel I was met by nothing more or less than a bustling capital city with all that that entails, and then, closer to my hotel the magic arose. Higgledy Piggledy bars and cafes, spilling out onto the streets as they do, full of seemingly attractive people, moreso than you'd find in Dalston, and going to the most bog standard of bog standard brasseries for supper and it being fantastic, good burger, phenomenal chips and the patron brought over a liqueur to aid sleep. Then walking out into the mid-evening sunshine whereunder everything was given a further golden sheen.
Lovely.
So utterly predictable. You have to go out and NOTICE
You took one metro line to a brasserie you know in a nice neighbourhood you like. Brilliant. Your Pulitzer Prize awaits
I didn't know the brasserie just walked in off the street. Never been to it before in my life. But fantastic burger and chips I eschewed the french onion soup. Had walked there, let's say 20 mins from my hotel. And yes it's around Ternes but weren't you yesterday saying how even the nice neighbourhoods were shite. I believe you were. And they aren't.
And I was doing a lot of noticing tyvm. But normal, out and about aware noticing, not professional noticing whereby you conjure up things that aren't there so that you can notice them and then write about them.
I forgive you. I presume you are in Paris for work and you have people to meet and things to do. You don’t want to go somewhere nasty just for the sake of it. And You can’t spend an entire weekend wandering around central Paris - walking 7-8 hours a day - taking photos and notes. I can, because that’s exactly my job
I’ve never been to church other than weddings, funerals or christenings but, as someone who is sad that Christianity is no longer going to be the dominant faith in England when my kids are grown up, I feel I should start.
I won’t though, the same way I like the independent shops in our High St and still order stuff cheaper online. When they’re gone I’ll miss them & complaint that people never used them, as my houses value plummets
I think it was Peter Hitchens who said we are basking in the afterglow of the old Christian England, but by doing nothing to preserve it we are destroying it.
The problem is you can't really pretend to believe in something. Going to church when you don't believe in any of it would be slightly ridiculous.
It is a trend to do just that. Enough to be remarked upon by the Sepctator.
I’ve never been to church other than weddings, funerals or christenings but, as someone who is sad that Christianity is no longer going to be the dominant faith in England when my kids are grown up, I feel I should start.
I won’t though, the same way I like the independent shops in our High St and still order stuff cheaper online. When they’re gone I’ll miss them & complaint that people never used them, as my houses value plummets
I think it was Peter Hitchens who said we are basking in the afterglow of the old Christian England, but by doing nothing to preserve it we are destroying it.
The reality is that many local shops are more expensive than the chains or online delivery. It is up to us to pay that bit more. But I wouldn't dream of asking anyone to pay more because in my mind it's better to have an artisanal food shop nearby rather than go to Tescos.
I have a delivery from Ikea this week as despite only being a few miles away 'as the crow flies', the delivery charge is cheaper than the 1hr+ each-way bus journey.
Something more cheerful - that thread on drinks and food in their natural surroundings
It’s true, a Philp’s Cornish pasty, fresh and warm and peppery from the bakery in Hayle, eaten on the sea wall, gazing at the waves, after a vigorous cliff top hike, is an absolute thing of beauty. Eaten at home for supper, hmm no. I mean, it’s OK. But you need that working man’s appetite, the salty sea air, the soft crust in your hand, the aaaahhhhh
A peaty Islay malt in front of a roaring fire in a baronial hotel somewhere in Hebrides after a day in the sad and misty loveliness, yes indeed
Maldon Oysters at the Maldon oyster shack on Mersea island, right on the River Blackwater where they have been gathered since Roman times, and celebrated
“The only good thing to come out of Britain is oysters” - Pliny
Asparagus from our garden. 15 food metres, 15 minutes from harvest to plate.
Mine from the allotment is about 400 yards. Tips were just showing on Saturday, so will check tomorrow in hope. Crowns have been in for five years now, so starting to quite productive. I love asparagus season! It’s also usually cheap in the supermarkets too.
Last time I asked about a local allotment I was told the waiting list was somewhere between 15-50 years depending how lucky I got (and I guess how unlucky the existing allotment owners were).
If that has not been the set up for a Midsomer Murders episode I will be astonished.
Not yet (there has been a gardens one), so you should definitely send it in…
To be fair, this VinFast outfit has an actual car, which they actually make, an actual car carrier ship and have actually imported some actual cars into the US.
This puts them way in front of about 95% of these EV startups. Remember when someone was launching a Tesla Killer every week?
Do these 'Tesla killers' have accelerator pedals that don't threaten to kill people?
I mean, if you cannot even get the peddle correct....
The majority of them had the inventive safety feature of… not actually making any cars.
Bit like the Best Hospital in The NHS - St Edward’s.
Are you actually defending Tesla over that? Or the Cyberfuck as a whole?
No, I was pointing out that VinFast was way ahead of the pack by actually existing. For a while, fraudulent EV startups were the “crypto currency” of the day.
Edit - you’ve got to admit, not making an cars is a damn good way to prevent any accidents or incidents in or around your cars.
I’ve never been to church other than weddings, funerals or christenings but, as someone who is sad that Christianity is no longer going to be the dominant faith in England when my kids are grown up, I feel I should start.
I won’t though, the same way I like the independent shops in our High St and still order stuff cheaper online. When they’re gone I’ll miss them & complaint that people never used them, as my houses value plummets
I think it was Peter Hitchens who said we are basking in the afterglow of the old Christian England, but by doing nothing to preserve it we are destroying it.
The problem is you can't really pretend to believe in something. Going to church when you don't believe in any of it would be slightly ridiculous.
In rural areas some small villages and hamlets no longer even have a pub or shop or school now but they still have a Parish church (even if they only get a service there once a month on rotation). Going to their local church is therefore one of the few ways they meet other members of the village or hamlet reasonably regularly in person
You obviously don't live in one. Small villages and hamlets all have very lively and active whatsapp and facebook groups and organise all kinds of activities. Moreso if they are smaller. Going to the local church absolutely does bring a small percentage of them together, and activities are often arranged about the church but you are as likely to have gardening groups and arts & crafts and coffee mornings and "Women of...." groups also.
You should get out more. The church is a teeny tiny part of modern rural life.
I do now, indeed one with no pub and no post office and no shops now within it (although it still has a church and village hall which does amateur drama and a bit of table tennis). Yes it has a Facebook group but mainly for identifying flooding problems, crime, litter etc in the area.
There is a horticulture group but based in the next village not this one
Something more cheerful - that thread on drinks and food in their natural surroundings
It’s true, a Philp’s Cornish pasty, fresh and warm and peppery from the bakery in Hayle, eaten on the sea wall, gazing at the waves, after a vigorous cliff top hike, is an absolute thing of beauty. Eaten at home for supper, hmm no. I mean, it’s OK. But you need that working man’s appetite, the salty sea air, the soft crust in your hand, the aaaahhhhh
A peaty Islay malt in front of a roaring fire in a baronial hotel somewhere in Hebrides after a day in the sad and misty loveliness, yes indeed
Maldon Oysters at the Maldon oyster shack on Mersea island, right on the River Blackwater where they have been gathered since Roman times, and celebrated
“The only good thing to come out of Britain is oysters” - Pliny
Asparagus from our garden. 15 food metres, 15 minutes from harvest to plate.
Mine from the allotment is about 400 yards. Tips were just showing on Saturday, so will check tomorrow in hope. Crowns have been in for five years now, so starting to quite productive. I love asparagus season! It’s also usually cheap in the supermarkets too.
You are entering a 10+ year golden period with your asparagus. First 5 years it was an occasional treat, now we will be eating asparagus every 2nd or 3rd day for the next two months.
And it is so much better than supermarket asparagus. Whether that's because they force theirs, use less flavoured, more productive varieties, or it's due to the inevitable delay between cutting and eating, I don't know. But nothing beats our own asparagus.
I think it’s mainly the time from cutting to plate. Cannot be less than a day or two for shop bought, and as you say it’s minutes for your own.
My usual French food experience so far on this trip
Traditional Parisian brasserie food: as good as ever. Red velvet banquettes. Steak tartare and chips. Brilliantly warming onion soup with cheesy croutons. Its not going to get noticed but often its all you want and need
Cheap fast food: same as everywhere - everyone in Paris now goes to Pret A Manger. The symbol of new globalisation. A British sandwich chain with a French name now colonising Paris
Now I’m in a locally celebrated hotel-restaurant in Brittany. It’s ambitious and a tiny bit fusion. And it’s decidedly meh. Fussy yet under flavoured and you’d almost certainly get better in the British equivalent
Have you tried the French Tacos?, if you fancy something different in the way of fast food, albeit hardly a health food. Nothing to do with Mexican Tacos, and part of understanding modern French street culture.
If it’s as bad as French “Indian curry” then no ta
I don’t understand why French towns aren’t flooded with brilliant Vietnamese and Cambodian restaurants. The same way Britain has gained so much from Indian and Hong Kong Chinese. It’s one of the “benefits” of the imperial experience
I presume it’s French exceptionalism again. “Our food is the best in the world we don’t need to learn anything”
Non, mon ami, YOU REALLY DO
There are loads of Vietnamese restaurants in France, and Tunisian Couscous places too. They aren't hard to find.
I’ve never been to church other than weddings, funerals or christenings but, as someone who is sad that Christianity is no longer going to be the dominant faith in England when my kids are grown up, I feel I should start.
I won’t though, the same way I like the independent shops in our High St and still order stuff cheaper online. When they’re gone I’ll miss them & complaint that people never used them, as my houses value plummets
I think it was Peter Hitchens who said we are basking in the afterglow of the old Christian England, but by doing nothing to preserve it we are destroying it.
The problem is you can't really pretend to believe in something. Going to church when you don't believe in any of it would be slightly ridiculous.
In rural areas some small villages and hamlets no longer even have a pub or shop or school now but they still have a Parish church (even if they only get a service there once a month on rotation). Going to their local church is therefore one of the few ways they meet other members of the village or hamlet reasonably regularly in person
You obviously don't live in one. Small villages and hamlets all have very lively and active whatsapp and facebook groups and organise all kinds of activities. Moreso if they are smaller. Going to the local church absolutely does bring a small percentage of them together, and activities are often arranged about the church but you are as likely to have gardening groups and arts & crafts and coffee mornings and "Women of...." groups also.
You should get out more. The church is a teeny tiny part of modern rural life.
I do now, indeed one with no pub and no post office and no shops now within it (although it still has a church and village hall which does amateur drama and a bit of table tennis). Yes it has a Facebook group but mainly for identifying flooding problems, crime, litter etc in the area.
There is a horticulture group but based in the next village not this one
Why would you choose to live in such a lonely asocial place?
I honestly don’t get it. The only reason I would live in a village is if it had a strong village community. Otherwise what’s the point is isolating yourself so much from human society and all the conveniences of towns and cities - shops and pubs, doctors and theatres, art and commerce
If you desperately need rural views you could buy an old farmhouse anywhere
I went to my Birkbeck graduation today. Joan Blackwell, the college President, gave the address - albeit by videolink. I have to say that I hope I’m doing as well as her at 91. She’s understandably retiring from the post this year but she looked like she could carry on!
I meant of course Joan Bakewell. They’ll probably ask me for my degree back after that error…
I went to my Birkbeck graduation today. Joan Blackwell, the college President, gave the address - albeit by videolink. I have to say that I hope I’m doing as well as her at 91. She’s understandably retiring from the post this year but she looked like she could carry on!
I meant of course Joan Bakewell. They’ll probably ask me for my degree back after that error…
I don’t understand why French towns aren’t flooded with brilliant Vietnamese and Cambodian restaurants. The same way Britain has gained so much from Indian and Hong Kong Chinese. It’s one of the “benefits” of the imperial experience
I presume it’s French exceptionalism again. “Our food is the best in the world we don’t need to learn anything”
Non, mon ami, YOU REALLY DO
I've had amazing Vietnamese food in France. Indeed, in smaller towns, the Vietnamese place is often the only one not just reheating stuff from the freezer.
Something more cheerful - that thread on drinks and food in their natural surroundings
It’s true, a Philp’s Cornish pasty, fresh and warm and peppery from the bakery in Hayle, eaten on the sea wall, gazing at the waves, after a vigorous cliff top hike, is an absolute thing of beauty. Eaten at home for supper, hmm no. I mean, it’s OK. But you need that working man’s appetite, the salty sea air, the soft crust in your hand, the aaaahhhhh
A peaty Islay malt in front of a roaring fire in a baronial hotel somewhere in Hebrides after a day in the sad and misty loveliness, yes indeed
Maldon Oysters at the Maldon oyster shack on Mersea island, right on the River Blackwater where they have been gathered since Roman times, and celebrated
“The only good thing to come out of Britain is oysters” - Pliny
Genuine question for the club - why is race fluidity not acceptable?
We live in an era where people sun tan themselves a darker shade without a thought. Fake tan is all over the place. There are tons of skin lightening products out there.
I’m quite certain, silly Michael Jackson comments aside, that lots of people have had cosmetic surgery to appear more like a different ethnic group.
Something more cheerful - that thread on drinks and food in their natural surroundings
It’s true, a Philp’s Cornish pasty, fresh and warm and peppery from the bakery in Hayle, eaten on the sea wall, gazing at the waves, after a vigorous cliff top hike, is an absolute thing of beauty. Eaten at home for supper, hmm no. I mean, it’s OK. But you need that working man’s appetite, the salty sea air, the soft crust in your hand, the aaaahhhhh
A peaty Islay malt in front of a roaring fire in a baronial hotel somewhere in Hebrides after a day in the sad and misty loveliness, yes indeed
Maldon Oysters at the Maldon oyster shack on Mersea island, right on the River Blackwater where they have been gathered since Roman times, and celebrated
“The only good thing to come out of Britain is oysters” - Pliny
Oh btw. Your wrong. And right.
A day spent in a colder than usual Paris certainly its fair share of yuk including the gentleman lying in his own vomit outside GdN. Coming into town on the Metro no particular issues could have been the Central line if the Central line were roomier and less ghastly. A gang of African youths apologising profusely to the older woman they had inadvertently bumped into while chatting.
Emerging at Argentine to make my way to my hotel I was met by nothing more or less than a bustling capital city with all that that entails, and then, closer to my hotel the magic arose. Higgledy Piggledy bars and cafes, spilling out onto the streets as they do, full of seemingly attractive people, moreso than you'd find in Dalston, and going to the most bog standard of bog standard brasseries for supper and it being fantastic, good burger, phenomenal chips and the patron brought over a liqueur to aid sleep. Then walking out into the mid-evening sunshine whereunder everything was given a further golden sheen.
Lovely.
So utterly predictable. You have to go out and NOTICE
You took one metro line to a brasserie you know in a nice neighbourhood you like. Brilliant. Your Pulitzer Prize awaits
I didn't know the brasserie just walked in off the street. Never been to it before in my life. But fantastic burger and chips I eschewed the french onion soup. Had walked there, let's say 20 mins from my hotel. And yes it's around Ternes but weren't you yesterday saying how even the nice neighbourhoods were shite. I believe you were. And they aren't.
And I was doing a lot of noticing tyvm. But normal, out and about aware noticing, not professional noticing whereby you conjure up things that aren't there so that you can notice them and then write about them.
I forgive you. I presume you are in Paris for work and you have people to meet and things to do. You don’t want to go somewhere nasty just for the sake of it. And You can’t spend an entire weekend wandering around central Paris - walking 7-8 hours a day - taking photos and notes. I can, because that’s exactly my job
Which is my point. Paris is fine. More than fine. Chic. I like it a lot I like the cafe culture which we never managed to recreate in the UK and which is so effortless in Paris and for some reason the people there seem super attractive. I like just walking around (I like just walking around in London also).
But the danger you run is that you walk around for 7-8 hours a day and after hour 5.5 you think fuck. This is just a normal capital city which has its good bits and its bad bits. I don't have a story, you think. So let me try to create some kind of narrative. That will keep them reading until the end, so you say Paris is shit. Used to be city of romance now is city of needles and tent cities and crap. Much better story but you also know that it isn't *exactly* the case as you walk around. There's no real story and your undoubted art is that you can make a story out of no real story. But it's only a story. Not the reality.
Genuine question for the club - why is race fluidity not acceptable?
We live in an era where people sun tan themselves a darker shade without a thought. Fake tan is all over the place. There are tons of skin lightening products out there.
I’m quite certain, silly Michael Jackson comments aside, that lots of people have had cosmetic surgery to appear more like a different ethnic group.
The zeitgeist has not gotten to a place of accepting transracialism yet.
Something more cheerful - that thread on drinks and food in their natural surroundings
It’s true, a Philp’s Cornish pasty, fresh and warm and peppery from the bakery in Hayle, eaten on the sea wall, gazing at the waves, after a vigorous cliff top hike, is an absolute thing of beauty. Eaten at home for supper, hmm no. I mean, it’s OK. But you need that working man’s appetite, the salty sea air, the soft crust in your hand, the aaaahhhhh
A peaty Islay malt in front of a roaring fire in a baronial hotel somewhere in Hebrides after a day in the sad and misty loveliness, yes indeed
Maldon Oysters at the Maldon oyster shack on Mersea island, right on the River Blackwater where they have been gathered since Roman times, and celebrated
“The only good thing to come out of Britain is oysters” - Pliny
Oh btw. Your wrong. And right.
A day spent in a colder than usual Paris certainly its fair share of yuk including the gentleman lying in his own vomit outside GdN. Coming into town on the Metro no particular issues could have been the Central line if the Central line were roomier and less ghastly. A gang of African youths apologising profusely to the older woman they had inadvertently bumped into while chatting.
Emerging at Argentine to make my way to my hotel I was met by nothing more or less than a bustling capital city with all that that entails, and then, closer to my hotel the magic arose. Higgledy Piggledy bars and cafes, spilling out onto the streets as they do, full of seemingly attractive people, moreso than you'd find in Dalston, and going to the most bog standard of bog standard brasseries for supper and it being fantastic, good burger, phenomenal chips and the patron brought over a liqueur to aid sleep. Then walking out into the mid-evening sunshine whereunder everything was given a further golden sheen.
Lovely.
So utterly predictable. You have to go out and NOTICE
You took one metro line to a brasserie you know in a nice neighbourhood you like. Brilliant. Your Pulitzer Prize awaits
I didn't know the brasserie just walked in off the street. Never been to it before in my life. But fantastic burger and chips I eschewed the french onion soup. Had walked there, let's say 20 mins from my hotel. And yes it's around Ternes but weren't you yesterday saying how even the nice neighbourhoods were shite. I believe you were. And they aren't.
And I was doing a lot of noticing tyvm. But normal, out and about aware noticing, not professional noticing whereby you conjure up things that aren't there so that you can notice them and then write about them.
I forgive you. I presume you are in Paris for work and you have people to meet and things to do. You don’t want to go somewhere nasty just for the sake of it. And You can’t spend an entire weekend wandering around central Paris - walking 7-8 hours a day - taking photos and notes. I can, because that’s exactly my job
Which is my point. Paris is fine. More than fine. Chic. I like it a lot I like the cafe culture which we never managed to recreate in the UK and which is so effortless in Paris and for some reason the people there seem super attractive. I like just walking around (I like just walking around in London also).
But the danger you run is that you walk around for 7-8 hours a day and after hour 5.5 you think fuck. This is just a normal capital city which has its good bits and its bad bits. I don't have a story, you think. So let me try to create some kind of narrative. That will keep them reading until the end, so you say Paris is shit. Used to be city of romance now is city of needles and tent cities and crap. Much better story but you also know that it isn't *exactly* the case as you walk around. There's no real story and your undoubted art is that you can make a story out of no real story. But it's only a story. Not the reality.
I’ve never been to church other than weddings, funerals or christenings but, as someone who is sad that Christianity is no longer going to be the dominant faith in England when my kids are grown up, I feel I should start.
I won’t though, the same way I like the independent shops in our High St and still order stuff cheaper online. When they’re gone I’ll miss them & complaint that people never used them, as my houses value plummets
I think it was Peter Hitchens who said we are basking in the afterglow of the old Christian England, but by doing nothing to preserve it we are destroying it.
The problem is you can't really pretend to believe in something. Going to church when you don't believe in any of it would be slightly ridiculous.
In rural areas some small villages and hamlets no longer even have a pub or shop or school now but they still have a Parish church (even if they only get a service there once a month on rotation). Going to their local church is therefore one of the few ways they meet other members of the village or hamlet reasonably regularly in person
You obviously don't live in one. Small villages and hamlets all have very lively and active whatsapp and facebook groups and organise all kinds of activities. Moreso if they are smaller. Going to the local church absolutely does bring a small percentage of them together, and activities are often arranged about the church but you are as likely to have gardening groups and arts & crafts and coffee mornings and "Women of...." groups also.
You should get out more. The church is a teeny tiny part of modern rural life.
I do now, indeed one with no pub and no post office and no shops now within it (although it still has a church and village hall which does amateur drama and a bit of table tennis). Yes it has a Facebook group but mainly for identifying flooding problems, crime, litter etc in the area.
There is a horticulture group but based in the next village not this one
You will know then that the members of the horticulture group span the closest five villages to where you are. Likewise the other groups. There is a real sense of community, albeit online. Plus the coffee mornings and so forth.
You live in such a village. How many people (as a percentage of the village) go to church. I would say each week but as like as not your village church doesn't have a service every week but shares its vic with the neighbouring churches.
My usual French food experience so far on this trip
Traditional Parisian brasserie food: as good as ever. Red velvet banquettes. Steak tartare and chips. Brilliantly warming onion soup with cheesy croutons. Its not going to get noticed but often its all you want and need
Cheap fast food: same as everywhere - everyone in Paris now goes to Pret A Manger. The symbol of new globalisation. A British sandwich chain with a French name now colonising Paris
Now I’m in a locally celebrated hotel-restaurant in Brittany. It’s ambitious and a tiny bit fusion. And it’s decidedly meh. Fussy yet under flavoured and you’d almost certainly get better in the British equivalent
If you're reduced to eating the banquettes, I say get yourself on a flight and back to a civilised country before you starve.
I’ve never been to church other than weddings, funerals or christenings but, as someone who is sad that Christianity is no longer going to be the dominant faith in England when my kids are grown up, I feel I should start.
I won’t though, the same way I like the independent shops in our High St and still order stuff cheaper online. When they’re gone I’ll miss them & complaint that people never used them, as my houses value plummets
I think it was Peter Hitchens who said we are basking in the afterglow of the old Christian England, but by doing nothing to preserve it we are destroying it.
The problem is you can't really pretend to believe in something. Going to church when you don't believe in any of it would be slightly ridiculous.
In rural areas some small villages and hamlets no longer even have a pub or shop or school now but they still have a Parish church (even if they only get a service there once a month on rotation). Going to their local church is therefore one of the few ways they meet other members of the village or hamlet reasonably regularly in person
You obviously don't live in one. Small villages and hamlets all have very lively and active whatsapp and facebook groups and organise all kinds of activities. Moreso if they are smaller. Going to the local church absolutely does bring a small percentage of them together, and activities are often arranged about the church but you are as likely to have gardening groups and arts & crafts and coffee mornings and "Women of...." groups also.
You should get out more. The church is a teeny tiny part of modern rural life.
I do now, indeed one with no pub and no post office and no shops now within it (although it still has a church and village hall which does amateur drama and a bit of table tennis). Yes it has a Facebook group but mainly for identifying flooding problems, crime, litter etc in the area.
There is a horticulture group but based in the next village not this one
Why would you choose to live in such a lonely asocial place?
I honestly don’t get it. The only reason I would live in a village is if it had a strong village community. Otherwise what’s the point is isolating yourself so much from human society and all the conveniences of towns and cities - shops and pubs, doctors and theatres, art and commerce
If you desperately need rural views you could buy an old farmhouse anywhere
I was brought up in a town but since marrying have always lived in villages. I like the sense of community. That and the closeness of nature largely compensate for the lack of facilities.
The strange thing is in every village we've lived in about 50% of the population never get involved in anything at all. For them, I wonder what the attraction is. I understand that some people like to keep to themselves but why choose to live a village? If you want to be anonymous go and live in a nondescript town.
My usual French food experience so far on this trip
Traditional Parisian brasserie food: as good as ever. Red velvet banquettes. Steak tartare and chips. Brilliantly warming onion soup with cheesy croutons. Its not going to get noticed but often its all you want and need
Cheap fast food: same as everywhere - everyone in Paris now goes to Pret A Manger. The symbol of new globalisation. A British sandwich chain with a French name now colonising Paris
Now I’m in a locally celebrated hotel-restaurant in Brittany. It’s ambitious and a tiny bit fusion. And it’s decidedly meh. Fussy yet under flavoured and you’d almost certainly get better in the British equivalent
Have you tried the French Tacos?, if you fancy something different in the way of fast food, albeit hardly a health food. Nothing to do with Mexican Tacos, and part of understanding modern French street culture.
If it’s as bad as French “Indian curry” then no ta
Something more cheerful - that thread on drinks and food in their natural surroundings
It’s true, a Philp’s Cornish pasty, fresh and warm and peppery from the bakery in Hayle, eaten on the sea wall, gazing at the waves, after a vigorous cliff top hike, is an absolute thing of beauty. Eaten at home for supper, hmm no. I mean, it’s OK. But you need that working man’s appetite, the salty sea air, the soft crust in your hand, the aaaahhhhh
A peaty Islay malt in front of a roaring fire in a baronial hotel somewhere in Hebrides after a day in the sad and misty loveliness, yes indeed
Maldon Oysters at the Maldon oyster shack on Mersea island, right on the River Blackwater where they have been gathered since Roman times, and celebrated
“The only good thing to come out of Britain is oysters” - Pliny
Asparagus from our garden. 15 food metres, 15 minutes from harvest to plate.
Good one
In the early summer of 2021 - still headfucked by Covid - i did my first post pandemic Gazette assignment. Eating food all along the East Anglian coast. Yes, it’s hard work, but someone etc
The very first meal was an amazing lunch in Burnham on Crouch where I ate the last of the local asparagus with unctuous hollandaise in a deicious and very English garden
Yes, English asparagus in England!
Cold Czech pilsener in a cobbled Bohemian square in the August heat. Perfect
Salad Nicoise on a blazing summer day in a Provençal town looking down on Nice, itself
Our local asparagus grower is expecting this years harvest to start shortly.
My usual French food experience so far on this trip
Traditional Parisian brasserie food: as good as ever. Red velvet banquettes. Steak tartare and chips. Brilliantly warming onion soup with cheesy croutons. Its not going to get noticed but often its all you want and need
Cheap fast food: same as everywhere - everyone in Paris now goes to Pret A Manger. The symbol of new globalisation. A British sandwich chain with a French name now colonising Paris
Now I’m in a locally celebrated hotel-restaurant in Brittany. It’s ambitious and a tiny bit fusion. And it’s decidedly meh. Fussy yet under flavoured and you’d almost certainly get better in the British equivalent
If you're reduced to eating the banquettes, I say get yourself on a flight and back to a civilised country before you starve.
Genuine question for the club - why is race fluidity not acceptable?
We live in an era where people sun tan themselves a darker shade without a thought. Fake tan is all over the place. There are tons of skin lightening products out there.
I’m quite certain, silly Michael Jackson comments aside, that lots of people have had cosmetic surgery to appear more like a different ethnic group.
The zeitgeist has not gotten to a place of accepting transracialism yet.
It has.
We have lots of cross cultural pollination, and it's not even new. Two Tone for example, but white reggae stars, Asian rappers etc.
Something more cheerful - that thread on drinks and food in their natural surroundings
It’s true, a Philp’s Cornish pasty, fresh and warm and peppery from the bakery in Hayle, eaten on the sea wall, gazing at the waves, after a vigorous cliff top hike, is an absolute thing of beauty. Eaten at home for supper, hmm no. I mean, it’s OK. But you need that working man’s appetite, the salty sea air, the soft crust in your hand, the aaaahhhhh
A peaty Islay malt in front of a roaring fire in a baronial hotel somewhere in Hebrides after a day in the sad and misty loveliness, yes indeed
Maldon Oysters at the Maldon oyster shack on Mersea island, right on the River Blackwater where they have been gathered since Roman times, and celebrated
“The only good thing to come out of Britain is oysters” - Pliny
Oh btw. Your wrong. And right.
A day spent in a colder than usual Paris certainly its fair share of yuk including the gentleman lying in his own vomit outside GdN. Coming into town on the Metro no particular issues could have been the Central line if the Central line were roomier and less ghastly. A gang of African youths apologising profusely to the older woman they had inadvertently bumped into while chatting.
Emerging at Argentine to make my way to my hotel I was met by nothing more or less than a bustling capital city with all that that entails, and then, closer to my hotel the magic arose. Higgledy Piggledy bars and cafes, spilling out onto the streets as they do, full of seemingly attractive people, moreso than you'd find in Dalston, and going to the most bog standard of bog standard brasseries for supper and it being fantastic, good burger, phenomenal chips and the patron brought over a liqueur to aid sleep. Then walking out into the mid-evening sunshine whereunder everything was given a further golden sheen.
Lovely.
So utterly predictable. You have to go out and NOTICE
You took one metro line to a brasserie you know in a nice neighbourhood you like. Brilliant. Your Pulitzer Prize awaits
I didn't know the brasserie just walked in off the street. Never been to it before in my life. But fantastic burger and chips I eschewed the french onion soup. Had walked there, let's say 20 mins from my hotel. And yes it's around Ternes but weren't you yesterday saying how even the nice neighbourhoods were shite. I believe you were. And they aren't.
And I was doing a lot of noticing tyvm. But normal, out and about aware noticing, not professional noticing whereby you conjure up things that aren't there so that you can notice them and then write about them.
I forgive you. I presume you are in Paris for work and you have people to meet and things to do. You don’t want to go somewhere nasty just for the sake of it. And You can’t spend an entire weekend wandering around central Paris - walking 7-8 hours a day - taking photos and notes. I can, because that’s exactly my job
Which is my point. Paris is fine. More than fine. Chic. I like it a lot I like the cafe culture which we never managed to recreate in the UK and which is so effortless in Paris and for some reason the people there seem super attractive. I like just walking around (I like just walking around in London also).
But the danger you run is that you walk around for 7-8 hours a day and after hour 5.5 you think fuck. This is just a normal capital city which has its good bits and its bad bits. I don't have a story, you think. So let me try to create some kind of narrative. That will keep them reading until the end, so you say Paris is shit. Used to be city of romance now is city of needles and tent cities and crap. Much better story but you also know that it isn't *exactly* the case as you walk around. There's no real story and your undoubted art is that you can make a story out of no real story. But it's only a story. Not the reality.
A city can be in decline but still a decent place to visit. Paris after all starts from a very high base so it will be a long time before it turns into Mogadishu.
I don’t understand why French towns aren’t flooded with brilliant Vietnamese and Cambodian restaurants. The same way Britain has gained so much from Indian and Hong Kong Chinese. It’s one of the “benefits” of the imperial experience
I presume it’s French exceptionalism again. “Our food is the best in the world we don’t need to learn anything”
Non, mon ami, YOU REALLY DO
I've had amazing Vietnamese food in France. Indeed, in smaller towns, the Vietnamese place is often the only one not just reheating stuff from the freezer.
Indeed but they are nowhere near as prevalent as Indian in the uk
Example. I am in Douarnanez in Cornouaille, a slightly run down but still oddly charming fishing town at the end of Brittany. Population 15,000. I just checked: the nearest Vietnamese is 20 miles away
Compare with Penzance in Cornwall. A slightly run down but etc etc. Population 15,000. At least four Indian restaurants
The French need the Vietnamese to hurry up and invigorate their cuisine. On the upside the Vietnamese abd Cambodians might just be the best cooks on earth
Something more cheerful - that thread on drinks and food in their natural surroundings
It’s true, a Philp’s Cornish pasty, fresh and warm and peppery from the bakery in Hayle, eaten on the sea wall, gazing at the waves, after a vigorous cliff top hike, is an absolute thing of beauty. Eaten at home for supper, hmm no. I mean, it’s OK. But you need that working man’s appetite, the salty sea air, the soft crust in your hand, the aaaahhhhh
A peaty Islay malt in front of a roaring fire in a baronial hotel somewhere in Hebrides after a day in the sad and misty loveliness, yes indeed
Maldon Oysters at the Maldon oyster shack on Mersea island, right on the River Blackwater where they have been gathered since Roman times, and celebrated
“The only good thing to come out of Britain is oysters” - Pliny
Oh btw. Your wrong. And right.
A day spent in a colder than usual Paris certainly its fair share of yuk including the gentleman lying in his own vomit outside GdN. Coming into town on the Metro no particular issues could have been the Central line if the Central line were roomier and less ghastly. A gang of African youths apologising profusely to the older woman they had inadvertently bumped into while chatting.
Emerging at Argentine to make my way to my hotel I was met by nothing more or less than a bustling capital city with all that that entails, and then, closer to my hotel the magic arose. Higgledy Piggledy bars and cafes, spilling out onto the streets as they do, full of seemingly attractive people, moreso than you'd find in Dalston, and going to the most bog standard of bog standard brasseries for supper and it being fantastic, good burger, phenomenal chips and the patron brought over a liqueur to aid sleep. Then walking out into the mid-evening sunshine whereunder everything was given a further golden sheen.
Lovely.
So utterly predictable. You have to go out and NOTICE
You took one metro line to a brasserie you know in a nice neighbourhood you like. Brilliant. Your Pulitzer Prize awaits
I didn't know the brasserie just walked in off the street. Never been to it before in my life. But fantastic burger and chips I eschewed the french onion soup. Had walked there, let's say 20 mins from my hotel. And yes it's around Ternes but weren't you yesterday saying how even the nice neighbourhoods were shite. I believe you were. And they aren't.
And I was doing a lot of noticing tyvm. But normal, out and about aware noticing, not professional noticing whereby you conjure up things that aren't there so that you can notice them and then write about them.
I forgive you. I presume you are in Paris for work and you have people to meet and things to do. You don’t want to go somewhere nasty just for the sake of it. And You can’t spend an entire weekend wandering around central Paris - walking 7-8 hours a day - taking photos and notes. I can, because that’s exactly my job
Which is my point. Paris is fine. More than fine. Chic. I like it a lot I like the cafe culture which we never managed to recreate in the UK and which is so effortless in Paris and for some reason the people there seem super attractive. I like just walking around (I like just walking around in London also).
But the danger you run is that you walk around for 7-8 hours a day and after hour 5.5 you think fuck. This is just a normal capital city which has its good bits and its bad bits. I don't have a story, you think. So let me try to create some kind of narrative. That will keep them reading until the end, so you say Paris is shit. Used to be city of romance now is city of needles and tent cities and crap. Much better story but you also know that it isn't *exactly* the case as you walk around. There's no real story and your undoubted art is that you can make a story out of no real story. But it's only a story. Not the reality.
No, I really do notice. It’s my job
It's your job to write 1,000 entertaining words about something or other. It's no wonder that there has to be a bit of creative liberty taken with the contents.
Paris is fine. Just as it's always been. No huge change. But I look forward to reading your piece on it, you super-noticer, you.
Genuine question for the club - why is race fluidity not acceptable?
We live in an era where people sun tan themselves a darker shade without a thought. Fake tan is all over the place. There are tons of skin lightening products out there.
I’m quite certain, silly Michael Jackson comments aside, that lots of people have had cosmetic surgery to appear more like a different ethnic group.
The zeitgeist has not gotten to a place of accepting transracialism yet.
Should I pencil in next Tuesday, then?
The bit I find interesting is the very widespread, low level version. Having a tan etc… Yet the implication of the desirability of the look is ignored.
Something more cheerful - that thread on drinks and food in their natural surroundings
It’s true, a Philp’s Cornish pasty, fresh and warm and peppery from the bakery in Hayle, eaten on the sea wall, gazing at the waves, after a vigorous cliff top hike, is an absolute thing of beauty. Eaten at home for supper, hmm no. I mean, it’s OK. But you need that working man’s appetite, the salty sea air, the soft crust in your hand, the aaaahhhhh
A peaty Islay malt in front of a roaring fire in a baronial hotel somewhere in Hebrides after a day in the sad and misty loveliness, yes indeed
Maldon Oysters at the Maldon oyster shack on Mersea island, right on the River Blackwater where they have been gathered since Roman times, and celebrated
“The only good thing to come out of Britain is oysters” - Pliny
Oh btw. Your wrong. And right.
A day spent in a colder than usual Paris certainly its fair share of yuk including the gentleman lying in his own vomit outside GdN. Coming into town on the Metro no particular issues could have been the Central line if the Central line were roomier and less ghastly. A gang of African youths apologising profusely to the older woman they had inadvertently bumped into while chatting.
Emerging at Argentine to make my way to my hotel I was met by nothing more or less than a bustling capital city with all that that entails, and then, closer to my hotel the magic arose. Higgledy Piggledy bars and cafes, spilling out onto the streets as they do, full of seemingly attractive people, moreso than you'd find in Dalston, and going to the most bog standard of bog standard brasseries for supper and it being fantastic, good burger, phenomenal chips and the patron brought over a liqueur to aid sleep. Then walking out into the mid-evening sunshine whereunder everything was given a further golden sheen.
Lovely.
So utterly predictable. You have to go out and NOTICE
You took one metro line to a brasserie you know in a nice neighbourhood you like. Brilliant. Your Pulitzer Prize awaits
I didn't know the brasserie just walked in off the street. Never been to it before in my life. But fantastic burger and chips I eschewed the french onion soup. Had walked there, let's say 20 mins from my hotel. And yes it's around Ternes but weren't you yesterday saying how even the nice neighbourhoods were shite. I believe you were. And they aren't.
And I was doing a lot of noticing tyvm. But normal, out and about aware noticing, not professional noticing whereby you conjure up things that aren't there so that you can notice them and then write about them.
I forgive you. I presume you are in Paris for work and you have people to meet and things to do. You don’t want to go somewhere nasty just for the sake of it. And You can’t spend an entire weekend wandering around central Paris - walking 7-8 hours a day - taking photos and notes. I can, because that’s exactly my job
Which is my point. Paris is fine. More than fine. Chic. I like it a lot I like the cafe culture which we never managed to recreate in the UK and which is so effortless in Paris and for some reason the people there seem super attractive. I like just walking around (I like just walking around in London also).
But the danger you run is that you walk around for 7-8 hours a day and after hour 5.5 you think fuck. This is just a normal capital city which has its good bits and its bad bits. I don't have a story, you think. So let me try to create some kind of narrative. That will keep them reading until the end, so you say Paris is shit. Used to be city of romance now is city of needles and tent cities and crap. Much better story but you also know that it isn't *exactly* the case as you walk around. There's no real story and your undoubted art is that you can make a story out of no real story. But it's only a story. Not the reality.
No, I really do notice. It’s my job
Can you honestly say you don't go with an agenda? Bad news sells after all.
Genuine question for the club - why is race fluidity not acceptable?
We live in an era where people sun tan themselves a darker shade without a thought. Fake tan is all over the place. There are tons of skin lightening products out there.
I’m quite certain, silly Michael Jackson comments aside, that lots of people have had cosmetic surgery to appear more like a different ethnic group.
The zeitgeist has not gotten to a place of accepting transracialism yet.
It has.
We have lots of cross cultural pollination, and it's not even new. Two Tone for example, but white reggae stars, Asian rappers etc.
Something more cheerful - that thread on drinks and food in their natural surroundings
It’s true, a Philp’s Cornish pasty, fresh and warm and peppery from the bakery in Hayle, eaten on the sea wall, gazing at the waves, after a vigorous cliff top hike, is an absolute thing of beauty. Eaten at home for supper, hmm no. I mean, it’s OK. But you need that working man’s appetite, the salty sea air, the soft crust in your hand, the aaaahhhhh
A peaty Islay malt in front of a roaring fire in a baronial hotel somewhere in Hebrides after a day in the sad and misty loveliness, yes indeed
Maldon Oysters at the Maldon oyster shack on Mersea island, right on the River Blackwater where they have been gathered since Roman times, and celebrated
“The only good thing to come out of Britain is oysters” - Pliny
Oh btw. Your wrong. And right.
A day spent in a colder than usual Paris certainly its fair share of yuk including the gentleman lying in his own vomit outside GdN. Coming into town on the Metro no particular issues could have been the Central line if the Central line were roomier and less ghastly. A gang of African youths apologising profusely to the older woman they had inadvertently bumped into while chatting.
Emerging at Argentine to make my way to my hotel I was met by nothing more or less than a bustling capital city with all that that entails, and then, closer to my hotel the magic arose. Higgledy Piggledy bars and cafes, spilling out onto the streets as they do, full of seemingly attractive people, moreso than you'd find in Dalston, and going to the most bog standard of bog standard brasseries for supper and it being fantastic, good burger, phenomenal chips and the patron brought over a liqueur to aid sleep. Then walking out into the mid-evening sunshine whereunder everything was given a further golden sheen.
Lovely.
So utterly predictable. You have to go out and NOTICE
You took one metro line to a brasserie you know in a nice neighbourhood you like. Brilliant. Your Pulitzer Prize awaits
I didn't know the brasserie just walked in off the street. Never been to it before in my life. But fantastic burger and chips I eschewed the french onion soup. Had walked there, let's say 20 mins from my hotel. And yes it's around Ternes but weren't you yesterday saying how even the nice neighbourhoods were shite. I believe you were. And they aren't.
And I was doing a lot of noticing tyvm. But normal, out and about aware noticing, not professional noticing whereby you conjure up things that aren't there so that you can notice them and then write about them.
I forgive you. I presume you are in Paris for work and you have people to meet and things to do. You don’t want to go somewhere nasty just for the sake of it. And You can’t spend an entire weekend wandering around central Paris - walking 7-8 hours a day - taking photos and notes. I can, because that’s exactly my job
Which is my point. Paris is fine. More than fine. Chic. I like it a lot I like the cafe culture which we never managed to recreate in the UK and which is so effortless in Paris and for some reason the people there seem super attractive. I like just walking around (I like just walking around in London also).
But the danger you run is that you walk around for 7-8 hours a day and after hour 5.5 you think fuck. This is just a normal capital city which has its good bits and its bad bits. I don't have a story, you think. So let me try to create some kind of narrative. That will keep them reading until the end, so you say Paris is shit. Used to be city of romance now is city of needles and tent cities and crap. Much better story but you also know that it isn't *exactly* the case as you walk around. There's no real story and your undoubted art is that you can make a story out of no real story. But it's only a story. Not the reality.
No, I really do notice. It’s my job
It's your job to write 1,000 entertaining words about something or other. It's no wonder that there has to be a bit of creative liberty taken with the contents.
Paris is fine. Just as it's always been. No huge change. But I look forward to reading your piece on it, you super-noticer, you.
Remember how I noticed the necklace. And think on that
Something more cheerful - that thread on drinks and food in their natural surroundings
It’s true, a Philp’s Cornish pasty, fresh and warm and peppery from the bakery in Hayle, eaten on the sea wall, gazing at the waves, after a vigorous cliff top hike, is an absolute thing of beauty. Eaten at home for supper, hmm no. I mean, it’s OK. But you need that working man’s appetite, the salty sea air, the soft crust in your hand, the aaaahhhhh
A peaty Islay malt in front of a roaring fire in a baronial hotel somewhere in Hebrides after a day in the sad and misty loveliness, yes indeed
Maldon Oysters at the Maldon oyster shack on Mersea island, right on the River Blackwater where they have been gathered since Roman times, and celebrated
“The only good thing to come out of Britain is oysters” - Pliny
Oh btw. Your wrong. And right.
A day spent in a colder than usual Paris certainly its fair share of yuk including the gentleman lying in his own vomit outside GdN. Coming into town on the Metro no particular issues could have been the Central line if the Central line were roomier and less ghastly. A gang of African youths apologising profusely to the older woman they had inadvertently bumped into while chatting.
Emerging at Argentine to make my way to my hotel I was met by nothing more or less than a bustling capital city with all that that entails, and then, closer to my hotel the magic arose. Higgledy Piggledy bars and cafes, spilling out onto the streets as they do, full of seemingly attractive people, moreso than you'd find in Dalston, and going to the most bog standard of bog standard brasseries for supper and it being fantastic, good burger, phenomenal chips and the patron brought over a liqueur to aid sleep. Then walking out into the mid-evening sunshine whereunder everything was given a further golden sheen.
Lovely.
So utterly predictable. You have to go out and NOTICE
You took one metro line to a brasserie you know in a nice neighbourhood you like. Brilliant. Your Pulitzer Prize awaits
I didn't know the brasserie just walked in off the street. Never been to it before in my life. But fantastic burger and chips I eschewed the french onion soup. Had walked there, let's say 20 mins from my hotel. And yes it's around Ternes but weren't you yesterday saying how even the nice neighbourhoods were shite. I believe you were. And they aren't.
And I was doing a lot of noticing tyvm. But normal, out and about aware noticing, not professional noticing whereby you conjure up things that aren't there so that you can notice them and then write about them.
I forgive you. I presume you are in Paris for work and you have people to meet and things to do. You don’t want to go somewhere nasty just for the sake of it. And You can’t spend an entire weekend wandering around central Paris - walking 7-8 hours a day - taking photos and notes. I can, because that’s exactly my job
Which is my point. Paris is fine. More than fine. Chic. I like it a lot I like the cafe culture which we never managed to recreate in the UK and which is so effortless in Paris and for some reason the people there seem super attractive. I like just walking around (I like just walking around in London also).
But the danger you run is that you walk around for 7-8 hours a day and after hour 5.5 you think fuck. This is just a normal capital city which has its good bits and its bad bits. I don't have a story, you think. So let me try to create some kind of narrative. That will keep them reading until the end, so you say Paris is shit. Used to be city of romance now is city of needles and tent cities and crap. Much better story but you also know that it isn't *exactly* the case as you walk around. There's no real story and your undoubted art is that you can make a story out of no real story. But it's only a story. Not the reality.
No, I really do notice. It’s my job
Can you honestly say you don't go with an agenda? Bad news sells after all.
I think it was Jay Rayner, or Adrian Gill, or one of them perhaps Giles Coren, who said that their bad restaurant reviews (restaurant bad, not the review...) were hugely more popular than their good ones. They said it was tempting to make them all bad.
Something more cheerful - that thread on drinks and food in their natural surroundings
It’s true, a Philp’s Cornish pasty, fresh and warm and peppery from the bakery in Hayle, eaten on the sea wall, gazing at the waves, after a vigorous cliff top hike, is an absolute thing of beauty. Eaten at home for supper, hmm no. I mean, it’s OK. But you need that working man’s appetite, the salty sea air, the soft crust in your hand, the aaaahhhhh
A peaty Islay malt in front of a roaring fire in a baronial hotel somewhere in Hebrides after a day in the sad and misty loveliness, yes indeed
Maldon Oysters at the Maldon oyster shack on Mersea island, right on the River Blackwater where they have been gathered since Roman times, and celebrated
“The only good thing to come out of Britain is oysters” - Pliny
Oh btw. Your wrong. And right.
A day spent in a colder than usual Paris certainly its fair share of yuk including the gentleman lying in his own vomit outside GdN. Coming into town on the Metro no particular issues could have been the Central line if the Central line were roomier and less ghastly. A gang of African youths apologising profusely to the older woman they had inadvertently bumped into while chatting.
Emerging at Argentine to make my way to my hotel I was met by nothing more or less than a bustling capital city with all that that entails, and then, closer to my hotel the magic arose. Higgledy Piggledy bars and cafes, spilling out onto the streets as they do, full of seemingly attractive people, moreso than you'd find in Dalston, and going to the most bog standard of bog standard brasseries for supper and it being fantastic, good burger, phenomenal chips and the patron brought over a liqueur to aid sleep. Then walking out into the mid-evening sunshine whereunder everything was given a further golden sheen.
Lovely.
So utterly predictable. You have to go out and NOTICE
You took one metro line to a brasserie you know in a nice neighbourhood you like. Brilliant. Your Pulitzer Prize awaits
I didn't know the brasserie just walked in off the street. Never been to it before in my life. But fantastic burger and chips I eschewed the french onion soup. Had walked there, let's say 20 mins from my hotel. And yes it's around Ternes but weren't you yesterday saying how even the nice neighbourhoods were shite. I believe you were. And they aren't.
And I was doing a lot of noticing tyvm. But normal, out and about aware noticing, not professional noticing whereby you conjure up things that aren't there so that you can notice them and then write about them.
I forgive you. I presume you are in Paris for work and you have people to meet and things to do. You don’t want to go somewhere nasty just for the sake of it. And You can’t spend an entire weekend wandering around central Paris - walking 7-8 hours a day - taking photos and notes. I can, because that’s exactly my job
Which is my point. Paris is fine. More than fine. Chic. I like it a lot I like the cafe culture which we never managed to recreate in the UK and which is so effortless in Paris and for some reason the people there seem super attractive. I like just walking around (I like just walking around in London also).
But the danger you run is that you walk around for 7-8 hours a day and after hour 5.5 you think fuck. This is just a normal capital city which has its good bits and its bad bits. I don't have a story, you think. So let me try to create some kind of narrative. That will keep them reading until the end, so you say Paris is shit. Used to be city of romance now is city of needles and tent cities and crap. Much better story but you also know that it isn't *exactly* the case as you walk around. There's no real story and your undoubted art is that you can make a story out of no real story. But it's only a story. Not the reality.
No, I really do notice. It’s my job
It's your job to write 1,000 entertaining words about something or other. It's no wonder that there has to be a bit of creative liberty taken with the contents.
Paris is fine. Just as it's always been. No huge change. But I look forward to reading your piece on it, you super-noticer, you.
Remember how I noticed the necklace. And think on that
Is the any evidence that you are correct in the necklace claim?
I don’t understand why French towns aren’t flooded with brilliant Vietnamese and Cambodian restaurants. The same way Britain has gained so much from Indian and Hong Kong Chinese. It’s one of the “benefits” of the imperial experience
I presume it’s French exceptionalism again. “Our food is the best in the world we don’t need to learn anything”
Non, mon ami, YOU REALLY DO
I've had amazing Vietnamese food in France. Indeed, in smaller towns, the Vietnamese place is often the only one not just reheating stuff from the freezer.
Indeed but they are nowhere near as prevalent as Indian in the uk
Example. I am in Douarnanez in Cornouaille, a slightly run down but still oddly charming fishing town at the end of Brittany. Population 15,000. I just checked: the nearest Vietnamese is 20 miles away
Compare with Penzance in Cornwall. A slightly run down but etc etc. Population 15,000. At least four Indian restaurants
The French need the Vietnamese to hurry up and invigorate their cuisine. On the upside the Vietnamese abd Cambodians might just be the best cooks on earth
Ah, the setting of Nevil Shute's wartime thriller Most Secret.
Something more cheerful - that thread on drinks and food in their natural surroundings
It’s true, a Philp’s Cornish pasty, fresh and warm and peppery from the bakery in Hayle, eaten on the sea wall, gazing at the waves, after a vigorous cliff top hike, is an absolute thing of beauty. Eaten at home for supper, hmm no. I mean, it’s OK. But you need that working man’s appetite, the salty sea air, the soft crust in your hand, the aaaahhhhh
A peaty Islay malt in front of a roaring fire in a baronial hotel somewhere in Hebrides after a day in the sad and misty loveliness, yes indeed
Maldon Oysters at the Maldon oyster shack on Mersea island, right on the River Blackwater where they have been gathered since Roman times, and celebrated
“The only good thing to come out of Britain is oysters” - Pliny
Oh btw. Your wrong. And right.
A day spent in a colder than usual Paris certainly its fair share of yuk including the gentleman lying in his own vomit outside GdN. Coming into town on the Metro no particular issues could have been the Central line if the Central line were roomier and less ghastly. A gang of African youths apologising profusely to the older woman they had inadvertently bumped into while chatting.
Emerging at Argentine to make my way to my hotel I was met by nothing more or less than a bustling capital city with all that that entails, and then, closer to my hotel the magic arose. Higgledy Piggledy bars and cafes, spilling out onto the streets as they do, full of seemingly attractive people, moreso than you'd find in Dalston, and going to the most bog standard of bog standard brasseries for supper and it being fantastic, good burger, phenomenal chips and the patron brought over a liqueur to aid sleep. Then walking out into the mid-evening sunshine whereunder everything was given a further golden sheen.
Lovely.
So utterly predictable. You have to go out and NOTICE
You took one metro line to a brasserie you know in a nice neighbourhood you like. Brilliant. Your Pulitzer Prize awaits
I didn't know the brasserie just walked in off the street. Never been to it before in my life. But fantastic burger and chips I eschewed the french onion soup. Had walked there, let's say 20 mins from my hotel. And yes it's around Ternes but weren't you yesterday saying how even the nice neighbourhoods were shite. I believe you were. And they aren't.
And I was doing a lot of noticing tyvm. But normal, out and about aware noticing, not professional noticing whereby you conjure up things that aren't there so that you can notice them and then write about them.
I forgive you. I presume you are in Paris for work and you have people to meet and things to do. You don’t want to go somewhere nasty just for the sake of it. And You can’t spend an entire weekend wandering around central Paris - walking 7-8 hours a day - taking photos and notes. I can, because that’s exactly my job
Which is my point. Paris is fine. More than fine. Chic. I like it a lot I like the cafe culture which we never managed to recreate in the UK and which is so effortless in Paris and for some reason the people there seem super attractive. I like just walking around (I like just walking around in London also).
But the danger you run is that you walk around for 7-8 hours a day and after hour 5.5 you think fuck. This is just a normal capital city which has its good bits and its bad bits. I don't have a story, you think. So let me try to create some kind of narrative. That will keep them reading until the end, so you say Paris is shit. Used to be city of romance now is city of needles and tent cities and crap. Much better story but you also know that it isn't *exactly* the case as you walk around. There's no real story and your undoubted art is that you can make a story out of no real story. But it's only a story. Not the reality.
A city can be in decline but still a decent place to visit. Paris after all starts from a very high base so it will be a long time before it turns into Mogadishu.
I remember hearing an elderly French diplomat talking about modern France.
"We are old enough, and rich enough, to sink with grace".
Genuine question for the club - why is race fluidity not acceptable?
We live in an era where people sun tan themselves a darker shade without a thought. Fake tan is all over the place. There are tons of skin lightening products out there.
I’m quite certain, silly Michael Jackson comments aside, that lots of people have had cosmetic surgery to appear more like a different ethnic group.
The zeitgeist has not gotten to a place of accepting transracialism yet.
It has.
We have lots of cross cultural pollination, and it's not even new. Two Tone for example, but white reggae stars, Asian rappers etc.
Something more cheerful - that thread on drinks and food in their natural surroundings
It’s true, a Philp’s Cornish pasty, fresh and warm and peppery from the bakery in Hayle, eaten on the sea wall, gazing at the waves, after a vigorous cliff top hike, is an absolute thing of beauty. Eaten at home for supper, hmm no. I mean, it’s OK. But you need that working man’s appetite, the salty sea air, the soft crust in your hand, the aaaahhhhh
A peaty Islay malt in front of a roaring fire in a baronial hotel somewhere in Hebrides after a day in the sad and misty loveliness, yes indeed
Maldon Oysters at the Maldon oyster shack on Mersea island, right on the River Blackwater where they have been gathered since Roman times, and celebrated
“The only good thing to come out of Britain is oysters” - Pliny
Oh btw. Your wrong. And right.
A day spent in a colder than usual Paris certainly its fair share of yuk including the gentleman lying in his own vomit outside GdN. Coming into town on the Metro no particular issues could have been the Central line if the Central line were roomier and less ghastly. A gang of African youths apologising profusely to the older woman they had inadvertently bumped into while chatting.
Emerging at Argentine to make my way to my hotel I was met by nothing more or less than a bustling capital city with all that that entails, and then, closer to my hotel the magic arose. Higgledy Piggledy bars and cafes, spilling out onto the streets as they do, full of seemingly attractive people, moreso than you'd find in Dalston, and going to the most bog standard of bog standard brasseries for supper and it being fantastic, good burger, phenomenal chips and the patron brought over a liqueur to aid sleep. Then walking out into the mid-evening sunshine whereunder everything was given a further golden sheen.
Lovely.
So utterly predictable. You have to go out and NOTICE
You took one metro line to a brasserie you know in a nice neighbourhood you like. Brilliant. Your Pulitzer Prize awaits
I didn't know the brasserie just walked in off the street. Never been to it before in my life. But fantastic burger and chips I eschewed the french onion soup. Had walked there, let's say 20 mins from my hotel. And yes it's around Ternes but weren't you yesterday saying how even the nice neighbourhoods were shite. I believe you were. And they aren't.
And I was doing a lot of noticing tyvm. But normal, out and about aware noticing, not professional noticing whereby you conjure up things that aren't there so that you can notice them and then write about them.
I forgive you. I presume you are in Paris for work and you have people to meet and things to do. You don’t want to go somewhere nasty just for the sake of it. And You can’t spend an entire weekend wandering around central Paris - walking 7-8 hours a day - taking photos and notes. I can, because that’s exactly my job
Which is my point. Paris is fine. More than fine. Chic. I like it a lot I like the cafe culture which we never managed to recreate in the UK and which is so effortless in Paris and for some reason the people there seem super attractive. I like just walking around (I like just walking around in London also).
But the danger you run is that you walk around for 7-8 hours a day and after hour 5.5 you think fuck. This is just a normal capital city which has its good bits and its bad bits. I don't have a story, you think. So let me try to create some kind of narrative. That will keep them reading until the end, so you say Paris is shit. Used to be city of romance now is city of needles and tent cities and crap. Much better story but you also know that it isn't *exactly* the case as you walk around. There's no real story and your undoubted art is that you can make a story out of no real story. But it's only a story. Not the reality.
No, I really do notice. It’s my job
It's your job to write 1,000 entertaining words about something or other. It's no wonder that there has to be a bit of creative liberty taken with the contents.
Paris is fine. Just as it's always been. No huge change. But I look forward to reading your piece on it, you super-noticer, you.
Remember how I noticed the necklace. And think on that
Is the any evidence that you are correct in the necklace claim?
YES HE IS.
But that's like "noticing" gang colours or finding Wally. Noticing a whole sea change of a capital city over a third of a day spent there is something else. It's almost too much to ask of someone so naturally a bit of creativity comes into play.
Something more cheerful - that thread on drinks and food in their natural surroundings
It’s true, a Philp’s Cornish pasty, fresh and warm and peppery from the bakery in Hayle, eaten on the sea wall, gazing at the waves, after a vigorous cliff top hike, is an absolute thing of beauty. Eaten at home for supper, hmm no. I mean, it’s OK. But you need that working man’s appetite, the salty sea air, the soft crust in your hand, the aaaahhhhh
A peaty Islay malt in front of a roaring fire in a baronial hotel somewhere in Hebrides after a day in the sad and misty loveliness, yes indeed
Maldon Oysters at the Maldon oyster shack on Mersea island, right on the River Blackwater where they have been gathered since Roman times, and celebrated
“The only good thing to come out of Britain is oysters” - Pliny
Oh btw. Your wrong. And right.
A day spent in a colder than usual Paris certainly its fair share of yuk including the gentleman lying in his own vomit outside GdN. Coming into town on the Metro no particular issues could have been the Central line if the Central line were roomier and less ghastly. A gang of African youths apologising profusely to the older woman they had inadvertently bumped into while chatting.
Emerging at Argentine to make my way to my hotel I was met by nothing more or less than a bustling capital city with all that that entails, and then, closer to my hotel the magic arose. Higgledy Piggledy bars and cafes, spilling out onto the streets as they do, full of seemingly attractive people, moreso than you'd find in Dalston, and going to the most bog standard of bog standard brasseries for supper and it being fantastic, good burger, phenomenal chips and the patron brought over a liqueur to aid sleep. Then walking out into the mid-evening sunshine whereunder everything was given a further golden sheen.
Lovely.
So utterly predictable. You have to go out and NOTICE
You took one metro line to a brasserie you know in a nice neighbourhood you like. Brilliant. Your Pulitzer Prize awaits
I didn't know the brasserie just walked in off the street. Never been to it before in my life. But fantastic burger and chips I eschewed the french onion soup. Had walked there, let's say 20 mins from my hotel. And yes it's around Ternes but weren't you yesterday saying how even the nice neighbourhoods were shite. I believe you were. And they aren't.
And I was doing a lot of noticing tyvm. But normal, out and about aware noticing, not professional noticing whereby you conjure up things that aren't there so that you can notice them and then write about them.
I forgive you. I presume you are in Paris for work and you have people to meet and things to do. You don’t want to go somewhere nasty just for the sake of it. And You can’t spend an entire weekend wandering around central Paris - walking 7-8 hours a day - taking photos and notes. I can, because that’s exactly my job
Which is my point. Paris is fine. More than fine. Chic. I like it a lot I like the cafe culture which we never managed to recreate in the UK and which is so effortless in Paris and for some reason the people there seem super attractive. I like just walking around (I like just walking around in London also).
But the danger you run is that you walk around for 7-8 hours a day and after hour 5.5 you think fuck. This is just a normal capital city which has its good bits and its bad bits. I don't have a story, you think. So let me try to create some kind of narrative. That will keep them reading until the end, so you say Paris is shit. Used to be city of romance now is city of needles and tent cities and crap. Much better story but you also know that it isn't *exactly* the case as you walk around. There's no real story and your undoubted art is that you can make a story out of no real story. But it's only a story. Not the reality.
No, I really do notice. It’s my job
It's your job to write 1,000 entertaining words about something or other. It's no wonder that there has to be a bit of creative liberty taken with the contents.
Paris is fine. Just as it's always been. No huge change. But I look forward to reading your piece on it, you super-noticer, you.
Remember how I noticed the necklace. And think on that
Is the any evidence that you are correct in the necklace claim?
Something more cheerful - that thread on drinks and food in their natural surroundings
It’s true, a Philp’s Cornish pasty, fresh and warm and peppery from the bakery in Hayle, eaten on the sea wall, gazing at the waves, after a vigorous cliff top hike, is an absolute thing of beauty. Eaten at home for supper, hmm no. I mean, it’s OK. But you need that working man’s appetite, the salty sea air, the soft crust in your hand, the aaaahhhhh
A peaty Islay malt in front of a roaring fire in a baronial hotel somewhere in Hebrides after a day in the sad and misty loveliness, yes indeed
Maldon Oysters at the Maldon oyster shack on Mersea island, right on the River Blackwater where they have been gathered since Roman times, and celebrated
“The only good thing to come out of Britain is oysters” - Pliny
Oh btw. Your wrong. And right.
A day spent in a colder than usual Paris certainly its fair share of yuk including the gentleman lying in his own vomit outside GdN. Coming into town on the Metro no particular issues could have been the Central line if the Central line were roomier and less ghastly. A gang of African youths apologising profusely to the older woman they had inadvertently bumped into while chatting.
Emerging at Argentine to make my way to my hotel I was met by nothing more or less than a bustling capital city with all that that entails, and then, closer to my hotel the magic arose. Higgledy Piggledy bars and cafes, spilling out onto the streets as they do, full of seemingly attractive people, moreso than you'd find in Dalston, and going to the most bog standard of bog standard brasseries for supper and it being fantastic, good burger, phenomenal chips and the patron brought over a liqueur to aid sleep. Then walking out into the mid-evening sunshine whereunder everything was given a further golden sheen.
Lovely.
So utterly predictable. You have to go out and NOTICE
You took one metro line to a brasserie you know in a nice neighbourhood you like. Brilliant. Your Pulitzer Prize awaits
I didn't know the brasserie just walked in off the street. Never been to it before in my life. But fantastic burger and chips I eschewed the french onion soup. Had walked there, let's say 20 mins from my hotel. And yes it's around Ternes but weren't you yesterday saying how even the nice neighbourhoods were shite. I believe you were. And they aren't.
And I was doing a lot of noticing tyvm. But normal, out and about aware noticing, not professional noticing whereby you conjure up things that aren't there so that you can notice them and then write about them.
I forgive you. I presume you are in Paris for work and you have people to meet and things to do. You don’t want to go somewhere nasty just for the sake of it. And You can’t spend an entire weekend wandering around central Paris - walking 7-8 hours a day - taking photos and notes. I can, because that’s exactly my job
Which is my point. Paris is fine. More than fine. Chic. I like it a lot I like the cafe culture which we never managed to recreate in the UK and which is so effortless in Paris and for some reason the people there seem super attractive. I like just walking around (I like just walking around in London also).
But the danger you run is that you walk around for 7-8 hours a day and after hour 5.5 you think fuck. This is just a normal capital city which has its good bits and its bad bits. I don't have a story, you think. So let me try to create some kind of narrative. That will keep them reading until the end, so you say Paris is shit. Used to be city of romance now is city of needles and tent cities and crap. Much better story but you also know that it isn't *exactly* the case as you walk around. There's no real story and your undoubted art is that you can make a story out of no real story. But it's only a story. Not the reality.
No, I really do notice. It’s my job
It's your job to write 1,000 entertaining words about something or other. It's no wonder that there has to be a bit of creative liberty taken with the contents.
Paris is fine. Just as it's always been. No huge change. But I look forward to reading your piece on it, you super-noticer, you.
I haven't been in a few years, but I think it isn't that Paris has become dirtier and more gritty, nor Rome or New York, its that the centre of London has become less dirty and gritty, so we notice the contrast more.
Something more cheerful - that thread on drinks and food in their natural surroundings
It’s true, a Philp’s Cornish pasty, fresh and warm and peppery from the bakery in Hayle, eaten on the sea wall, gazing at the waves, after a vigorous cliff top hike, is an absolute thing of beauty. Eaten at home for supper, hmm no. I mean, it’s OK. But you need that working man’s appetite, the salty sea air, the soft crust in your hand, the aaaahhhhh
A peaty Islay malt in front of a roaring fire in a baronial hotel somewhere in Hebrides after a day in the sad and misty loveliness, yes indeed
Maldon Oysters at the Maldon oyster shack on Mersea island, right on the River Blackwater where they have been gathered since Roman times, and celebrated
“The only good thing to come out of Britain is oysters” - Pliny
Oh btw. Your wrong. And right.
A day spent in a colder than usual Paris certainly its fair share of yuk including the gentleman lying in his own vomit outside GdN. Coming into town on the Metro no particular issues could have been the Central line if the Central line were roomier and less ghastly. A gang of African youths apologising profusely to the older woman they had inadvertently bumped into while chatting.
Emerging at Argentine to make my way to my hotel I was met by nothing more or less than a bustling capital city with all that that entails, and then, closer to my hotel the magic arose. Higgledy Piggledy bars and cafes, spilling out onto the streets as they do, full of seemingly attractive people, moreso than you'd find in Dalston, and going to the most bog standard of bog standard brasseries for supper and it being fantastic, good burger, phenomenal chips and the patron brought over a liqueur to aid sleep. Then walking out into the mid-evening sunshine whereunder everything was given a further golden sheen.
Lovely.
So utterly predictable. You have to go out and NOTICE
You took one metro line to a brasserie you know in a nice neighbourhood you like. Brilliant. Your Pulitzer Prize awaits
I didn't know the brasserie just walked in off the street. Never been to it before in my life. But fantastic burger and chips I eschewed the french onion soup. Had walked there, let's say 20 mins from my hotel. And yes it's around Ternes but weren't you yesterday saying how even the nice neighbourhoods were shite. I believe you were. And they aren't.
And I was doing a lot of noticing tyvm. But normal, out and about aware noticing, not professional noticing whereby you conjure up things that aren't there so that you can notice them and then write about them.
I forgive you. I presume you are in Paris for work and you have people to meet and things to do. You don’t want to go somewhere nasty just for the sake of it. And You can’t spend an entire weekend wandering around central Paris - walking 7-8 hours a day - taking photos and notes. I can, because that’s exactly my job
Which is my point. Paris is fine. More than fine. Chic. I like it a lot I like the cafe culture which we never managed to recreate in the UK and which is so effortless in Paris and for some reason the people there seem super attractive. I like just walking around (I like just walking around in London also).
But the danger you run is that you walk around for 7-8 hours a day and after hour 5.5 you think fuck. This is just a normal capital city which has its good bits and its bad bits. I don't have a story, you think. So let me try to create some kind of narrative. That will keep them reading until the end, so you say Paris is shit. Used to be city of romance now is city of needles and tent cities and crap. Much better story but you also know that it isn't *exactly* the case as you walk around. There's no real story and your undoubted art is that you can make a story out of no real story. But it's only a story. Not the reality.
No, I really do notice. It’s my job
It's your job to write 1,000 entertaining words about something or other. It's no wonder that there has to be a bit of creative liberty taken with the contents.
Paris is fine. Just as it's always been. No huge change. But I look forward to reading your piece on it, you super-noticer, you.
Remember how I noticed the necklace. And think on that
Is the any evidence that you are correct in the necklace claim?
YES HE IS.
But that's like "noticing" gang colours or finding Wally. Noticing a whole sea change of a capital city over a third of a day spent there is something else. It's almost too much to ask of someone so naturally a bit of creativity comes into play.
The West Midlands Mayoral election reminds me somewhat of Livingstone losing the London mayoral election to Johnson in 2008. At that time Livingstone was still quite well regarded - in a way that had ceased to be true by 2012 when he lost again much more narrowly - but he was dragged down by the national unpopularity of Labour and Brown's Government - indeed it was the same month that Labour lost the Crewe & Nantwich by election to the Tories.
Something more cheerful - that thread on drinks and food in their natural surroundings
It’s true, a Philp’s Cornish pasty, fresh and warm and peppery from the bakery in Hayle, eaten on the sea wall, gazing at the waves, after a vigorous cliff top hike, is an absolute thing of beauty. Eaten at home for supper, hmm no. I mean, it’s OK. But you need that working man’s appetite, the salty sea air, the soft crust in your hand, the aaaahhhhh
A peaty Islay malt in front of a roaring fire in a baronial hotel somewhere in Hebrides after a day in the sad and misty loveliness, yes indeed
Maldon Oysters at the Maldon oyster shack on Mersea island, right on the River Blackwater where they have been gathered since Roman times, and celebrated
“The only good thing to come out of Britain is oysters” - Pliny
Oh btw. Your wrong. And right.
A day spent in a colder than usual Paris certainly its fair share of yuk including the gentleman lying in his own vomit outside GdN. Coming into town on the Metro no particular issues could have been the Central line if the Central line were roomier and less ghastly. A gang of African youths apologising profusely to the older woman they had inadvertently bumped into while chatting.
Emerging at Argentine to make my way to my hotel I was met by nothing more or less than a bustling capital city with all that that entails, and then, closer to my hotel the magic arose. Higgledy Piggledy bars and cafes, spilling out onto the streets as they do, full of seemingly attractive people, moreso than you'd find in Dalston, and going to the most bog standard of bog standard brasseries for supper and it being fantastic, good burger, phenomenal chips and the patron brought over a liqueur to aid sleep. Then walking out into the mid-evening sunshine whereunder everything was given a further golden sheen.
Lovely.
So utterly predictable. You have to go out and NOTICE
You took one metro line to a brasserie you know in a nice neighbourhood you like. Brilliant. Your Pulitzer Prize awaits
I didn't know the brasserie just walked in off the street. Never been to it before in my life. But fantastic burger and chips I eschewed the french onion soup. Had walked there, let's say 20 mins from my hotel. And yes it's around Ternes but weren't you yesterday saying how even the nice neighbourhoods were shite. I believe you were. And they aren't.
And I was doing a lot of noticing tyvm. But normal, out and about aware noticing, not professional noticing whereby you conjure up things that aren't there so that you can notice them and then write about them.
I forgive you. I presume you are in Paris for work and you have people to meet and things to do. You don’t want to go somewhere nasty just for the sake of it. And You can’t spend an entire weekend wandering around central Paris - walking 7-8 hours a day - taking photos and notes. I can, because that’s exactly my job
Which is my point. Paris is fine. More than fine. Chic. I like it a lot I like the cafe culture which we never managed to recreate in the UK and which is so effortless in Paris and for some reason the people there seem super attractive. I like just walking around (I like just walking around in London also).
But the danger you run is that you walk around for 7-8 hours a day and after hour 5.5 you think fuck. This is just a normal capital city which has its good bits and its bad bits. I don't have a story, you think. So let me try to create some kind of narrative. That will keep them reading until the end, so you say Paris is shit. Used to be city of romance now is city of needles and tent cities and crap. Much better story but you also know that it isn't *exactly* the case as you walk around. There's no real story and your undoubted art is that you can make a story out of no real story. But it's only a story. Not the reality.
No, I really do notice. It’s my job
It's your job to write 1,000 entertaining words about something or other. It's no wonder that there has to be a bit of creative liberty taken with the contents.
Paris is fine. Just as it's always been. No huge change. But I look forward to reading your piece on it, you super-noticer, you.
Remember how I noticed the necklace. And think on that
Is the any evidence that you are correct in the necklace claim?
Yes
Well what is it then? Saying ‘yes’ is NOT evidence.
Comments
Perhaps our necklace expert could divine some meaning from her key on a chain?
https://youtu.be/oZfQymnABxQ?si=oySzDkgA5vDf7SM6
Who's inflated (ahem) view of DJT goes beyond mere politics!
https://twitter.com/Osinttechnical/status/1782452395156369915
But those few may take over the world...
@IanDunt
I'm very sorry to hear Andrew Mitchell sell his soul on the radio right now. A formerly decent man with knowledge of his subject area who must know the nonsense he is spewing. He should hang his head in shame."
https://twitter.com/IanDunt/status/1782306537999904826
There seems to have been an outbreak of decency, friendliness and good-humour.
I'm using Safari on a Mac - not sure if other platform users are seeing the same thing.
This puts them way in front of about 95% of these EV startups. Remember when someone was launching a Tesla Killer every week?
But I don't believe in the fundamental tenets of faith.
And my appreciation of this fine weather heightened by a long winter of endless rain.
I mean, if you cannot even get the peddle correct....
You took one metro line to a brasserie you know in a nice neighbourhood you like. Brilliant. Your Pulitzer Prize awaits
But if you do, beware it might start to grow on you. Not everyone gets a revelation in a blinding flash out of the blue, indeed even many great religious teachers spend years searching and preparing their minds.
Indeed part of my spiritual journey was by studying the KJV as literature, and finding things that I didn't expect that really resonated.
https://twitter.com/Rainmaker1973/status/1782412793742004594
"A short film from 1902 of a German suspended railway called the Wuppertal Schwebebahn, shot in 68 mm, colorized and upscaled in 4K.
It shows an unusual drone-like view of a German city at the beginning of the 20th century."
No cars to be seen anywhere (obvs...), and few horses, either.
Edit: compared to a modern view:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uPj0CDfpEm0
"India's Modi reported to Electoral Commission after referring to Muslims as 'infiltrators' during campaign speech"
I mean I wouldn't go on a Sunday morning when people seem actually to believe all the Jesus is within you bolleaux but each to their own.
Very funny did anyone see the post fight, in ring interviews with Ryan Garcia and Devin Haney over the weekend. Garcia was immediately thanks be to god and god is in my left hook and when I deploy it god doesn't f**k about, etc while Haney was hamdulilah Allah declares it to be so.
Garcia won if anyone is interested although I'm not sure what that tells us about global geo-politics or the clash of civilisations.
Traditional Parisian brasserie food: as good as ever. Red velvet banquettes. Steak tartare and chips. Brilliantly warming onion soup with cheesy croutons. Its not going to get noticed but often its all you want and need
Cheap fast food: same as everywhere - everyone in Paris now goes to Pret A Manger. The symbol of new globalisation. A British sandwich chain with a French name now colonising Paris
Now I’m in a locally celebrated hotel-restaurant in Brittany. It’s ambitious and a tiny bit fusion. And it’s decidedly meh. Fussy yet under flavoured and you’d almost certainly get better in the British equivalent
There is no hope for the future either because the lack of those facilities means that the council has decided no further buildings can be built in our village. So we are frozen in our state of decline.
It reinforced my view that a lot of (not all) theists and atheists have not the slightest understanding of each other's positions.
Bit like the Best Hospital in The NHS - St Edward’s.
I still love it though.
I love asparagus season! It’s also usually cheap in the supermarkets too.
That’s a fuck of a lot given the likely food cost, and you’re certainly not paying for the talent of a clever chef using the best ingredients
France is not a really great food destination any more. You can eat better and certainly cheaper in many countries
If you want incredible food at incredible prices: Cambodia. Mind blowingly good and it costs about a fifth what you would pay in Paris, and ITS NEVER FROZEN
I dreamed I saw St. Augustine
Alive as you or me
Tearing through these quarters
In the utmost misery
Afua Hirsch says former PM made ‘problematic remarks’ about her in 2008 in the presence of his then-wife Marina Wheeler
Amy Gibbons"
https://www.telegraph.co.uk/politics/2024/04/22/boris-johnson-ex-wife-marina-wheeler-wished-he-was-black/
You should get out more. The church is a teeny tiny part of modern rural life.
And it is so much better than supermarket asparagus. Whether that's because they force theirs, use less flavoured, more productive varieties, or it's due to the inevitable delay between cutting and eating, I don't know. But nothing beats our own asparagus.
And I was doing a lot of noticing tyvm. But normal, out and about aware noticing, not professional noticing whereby you conjure up things that aren't there so that you can notice them and then write about them.
I presume it’s French exceptionalism again. “Our food is the best in the world we don’t need to learn anything”
Non, mon ami, YOU REALLY DO
Shooting had to be halted several times because there was snow on the sands.
Makes me proud to be British.
Edit - you’ve got to admit, not making an cars is a damn good way to prevent any accidents or incidents in or around your cars.
There is a horticulture group but based in the next village not this one
https://amp.theguardian.com/world/2019/mar/15/move-over-mcdonalds-french-taco-poised-for-global-expansion
It needs an open mind, and a willingness to encounter French Muslims, so perhaps not for a journalist.
I honestly don’t get it. The only reason I would live in a village is if it had a strong village community. Otherwise what’s the point is isolating yourself so much from human society and all the conveniences of towns and cities - shops and pubs, doctors and theatres, art and commerce
If you desperately need rural views you could buy an old farmhouse anywhere
We live in an era where people sun tan themselves a darker shade without a thought. Fake tan is all over the place. There are tons of skin lightening products out there.
I’m quite certain, silly Michael Jackson comments aside, that lots of people have had cosmetic surgery to appear more like a different ethnic group.
But the danger you run is that you walk around for 7-8 hours a day and after hour 5.5 you think fuck. This is just a normal capital city which has its good bits and its bad bits. I don't have a story, you think. So let me try to create some kind of narrative. That will keep them reading until the end, so you say Paris is shit. Used to be city of romance now is city of needles and tent cities and crap. Much better story but you also know that it isn't *exactly* the case as you walk around. There's no real story and your undoubted art is that you can make a story out of no real story. But it's only a story. Not the reality.
You live in such a village. How many people (as a percentage of the village) go to church. I would say each week but as like as not your village church doesn't have a service every week but shares its vic with the neighbouring churches.
The strange thing is in every village we've lived in about 50% of the population never get involved in anything at all. For them, I wonder what the attraction is. I understand that some people like to keep to themselves but why choose to live a village? If you want to be anonymous go and live in a nondescript town.
We have lots of cross cultural pollination, and it's not even new. Two Tone for example, but white reggae stars, Asian rappers etc.
Example. I am in Douarnanez in Cornouaille, a slightly run down but still oddly charming fishing town at the end of Brittany. Population 15,000. I just checked: the nearest Vietnamese is 20 miles away
Compare with Penzance in Cornwall. A slightly run down but etc etc. Population 15,000. At least four Indian restaurants
The French need the Vietnamese to hurry up and invigorate their cuisine. On the upside the Vietnamese abd Cambodians might just be the best cooks on earth
Paris is fine. Just as it's always been. No huge change. But I look forward to reading your piece on it, you super-noticer, you.
The bit I find interesting is the very widespread, low level version. Having a tan etc… Yet the implication of the desirability of the look is ignored.
"We are old enough, and rich enough, to sink with grace".
But that's like "noticing" gang colours or finding Wally. Noticing a whole sea change of a capital city over a third of a day spent there is something else. It's almost too much to ask of someone so naturally a bit of creativity comes into play.