Other things during the month

 People at my workplace are keen on baking. And are all slightly mad. And cookies are important to our work. Hence, cookie monster cupcakes. It makes perfect sense.

 My workplace is very close to Leicester Square, which is home to a lot of media activity. I came through one morning in the rain, and for no readily apparent reason a Mariachi band was huddled under the shelter while PR people flapped about trying to raise a crowd.

 The park near us, besides the Thames, erupted into a field, a meadow, of daisies.

 Bob beside the Thames, flowers in her hair. She's sad though. Her beloved pet dog Silky had just passed away. We miss her a lot.

 We went into the Queen's Gallery on the first day of the Jubilee to see the (amazingly good) exhibition of Leonardo da Vinci's anatomical drawings. They were setting up for the jubilee concert, doing sound checks and rehearsals, and their were huge crowds hanging around in the hope of seeing something - we did get to hear Robbie Williams rehearsing, and later, Annie Lennox - which made getting to the gallery difficult. So we detoured quite a way through the park, and came across these meadows of poppies and daisies and other wildflowers, specially prepared to encourage wildlife into the park, and flowering for the first time.

A house in the Country

Continuing with the somewhat arbitrary splatting of photos up. As I mentioned, Bob's parents came over shortly after we moved into the Arsenal, and we spent some time nipping around London with them (and being fed rather too well through a succession of restaurants). Among other things during that week we got out to see "One Man, Two Guvnors" - if it tours or a production shows up in your locale do go and see it: it's a terrifically funny collision between music hall slapstick, British farce and Commedia Dell'Arte. Trust me. It's funny.

A welcome respite though was a trip out to the country house of Bob's sister and her family. Apart from my work exploding horribly and me spending too much time with a laptop, it was amazingly relaxing. What can  you expect from a farm house that in parts dates back to the 17th century?

More photos are up at Flickr: Country House in May

We didn't do much that weekend, which is just as well, as once we stopped moving - and in some ways this was the first time we'd stopped moving in months, we just... stopped. We strolled through the woods, ate an amazing roast Sunday lunch in a pub, read, drew. Did little.

A whole month

Ah yes. Silence. Can we use the excuse that we've had Bob's parents to stay, and been flat out working, and flat out doing things?

Well that's the excuse anyway. We still haven't got much furniture in the flat - two beds, two bean bags, two bar stools, four chairs and a table. It's a start. Next step is going to have to be either bookshelves or wardrobes, because in theory unless something's gone horribly wrong in the Mediterranean the ship with all my stuff will arrive in a week or so. It's a difficult question: should the books remain on the floor, or the clothes?

 We've not just been working and clucking around the house though. On May Day Bob danced out with New Esperance, and I got a chance to duck out of work and nip up to the pub in Islington that they started at. And to sink a pint.

Although I didn't see it, this was apparently the shape of their day - going from pub to pub around Islington, drinking and dancing in the streets, carrying the traditional Milkmaid's Garland.

A fine tradition. Dancing up the afternoon sun.

More photos of the day are up at Flickr: May Day Dance Out 2012

Oh. Yes. Forgot to mention that we voted for the Mayor, but he got in anyway. I like the attitude toward democracy here, or at least for London: if you're living here and contributing to the economy, you get a say in whose bums are polishing the cushions. Also, they take voting seriously at the Arsenal

A Home Of Our Own

Hampstead Studio

It feels a little like each time I write here I begin with the words "sorry it's been so long, but things have been mad". The trouble is that's the simple truth. We've been flat out for weeks, and really haven't had a chance to catch our breath. Since I last wrote we have: moved out of the studio apartment, moved into a flat, stocked the flat with furniture, entertained Bob's parents, had adventures and craziness with work, raced all over London. For a start.

The problem we are facing is that in all significant ways we've been racing the red queen's race for over a year - either planning to move, preparing to move, packing, moving, unpacking, planning how to settle - and really really want to stop running. It's going to be a few weeks yet before we get that chance though.

Hampstead Studio

So. Yes. We moved out of the studio apartment we were in at Hampstead two weeks ago. We were in there much longer than we had initially intended, and were definitely getting cabin fever toward the end, but it was a good place to start. In theory it was a two-person studio apartment, but the reality was that having two people in there was predicated on one person sitting very still on the couch bed. Kitchen, bathroom and bed/lounge were all squeezed into a space about 2m wide and 4m long, a testament to how much Ikea furniture can be crammed into that space. The bathroom was sufficiently large to stand up in, although not to bend over to wash your face in the sink without opening the door. The kitchen managed to contain a fridge, a freezer, a microwave, a sink and a stove in a desk-sized space - amazing what you can fit in cupboards. The rest of the space was taken up with a couch bed and some shelves. We did have a small court yard outside for our own use as well, and that helped a lot to make the space feel larger, and we used it a little - it was a good place for a cup of coffee in the snow.

Waiting for the cab

Despite it being small and expensive, it was a good place to start. Hampstead was reasonably close for getting into the city, the Heath was quarter of an hour walk away, and there were a lot of decent cafés, restaurants and grocery stores in walking or bus distance. On top of that, all the utilities including a TV and internet were included in the price, removing a lot of things for us to have to deal with organising for ourselves. I would like to think that we will miss the place, but since I know that we could fit it in the loungeroom here... I probably won't.

18th C Bombard

The big reveal: we are living at Woolwich Arsenal, in a penthouse flat looking out over the Thames. The DLR, and a railway station, are 10 minutes walk away, the ferry to town is closer (although it takes an hour). There are parks right here, a resident's gym 100 meters away, and our own pub. And to top it off the Royal Artillery Museum is right here. The majority of the buildings on the site are reconditioned and renovated warehouses and factory buildings from around 1850, mostly heritage listed (which means they can tear out the interiors as long as they leave the facades), and the area is gorgeous. Photos to come when the sun comes out - this has been the first week or so when it has really rained, and the light has not been quite right for a wander around to get good shots. That will come though, and you will get lots of photos of cannons - the site is littered with museum pieces, and this little bombard is outside our front door.

Thus Arsenal Inn is now open for business, and we're taking bookings. The spare room has been outfitted with a bright red couch bed, and there is some furniture, at least enough to get started. The first weekend and week were... strenuous. We'd organised to pick up the keys and do the paper work on the afternoon of Friday 13th, and nipped across from my workplace to meet the agent. We'd never been to their office, and so spent twenty minutes on site trying to find them. Still, no harm done, we signed where we needed to sign, got keys, hugged each other, and jumped back on the train to go back to Hampstead. We'd promised ourselves a night out to celebrate, and so went to the Wet Fish Café for a very nice meal, and an even nicer bottle of wine followed up by very nice port. Except around 10:30 pm my phone rang, because the system at work had exploded in a spectacular fashion. Back to the Hampstead flat, and logged on, hammering away until about midnight. Collapsed into bed... and then the phone rang at 2:00 AM because it had exploded in a slightly different fashion. We finally got back to sleep around 5:00 AM, but then had to get up at 7:00 AM to cart stuff to Woolwich. We gave up on our original plan, and booked a cab to do it in one trip - we could not face doing it in three or four trips by the tube.

A Bed of Our Own!

The rest of the weekend is a blur. We had our bed - pre-ordered - delivered about 2:00 pm on Saturday. Bob was racing around various department stores getting bed linen and towels and soap, and cleaning stuff. I was racing around getting cutlery and crockery, and then had a very stressful adventure with IKEA. We'd made one trip out to one of the IKEAs (way over on the west side of London, a long train trip and shuttle bus trip away) a few weeks prior just to look at things and grab a catalog and plan out some initial bits and pieces. Early on the Sunday I headed out to get the initial bits and pieces, while Bob went off to get bean bags from the Bean Bag Shop at Camden Markets. I realised while I was getting stuff that we'd seriously underestimated the size of the task: I was grabbing four dining chairs, two bar stools, an expanding table, a couch bed, and a variety of containers, bins and boxes. Loading up the trolley full of enormous flat pack boxes, it was evident that there was no way I would get it through the checkout on one trolley, so I went through, paid for the first lot, and went to the delivery counter. And that's where it went horribly wrong: despite what I'd been told at the front door of the store, they would NOT deliver to Woolwich in less than 7 working days. I had to make arrangements with one of the taxi companies hanging around the door to look after the first trolley while I went and stocked up the other half of the order. We wedged everything into a van not really big enough for the goods, and for both of us, and headed back. Never again. It was a ridiculously long trip, ridiculously expensive trip, and ridiculously tiring. I got back in time for Bob to help get the mountain of boxes up to the flat before the rain came, and then we headed back out to Camden, arriving just in time to grab a startling bright red huge bean bag, and an even more startling bright yellow huger bean bag. Which they assured us could be taken on the tube. Bob's got some photos to post - I think we are the first people who had carted them off on the tube.

Our first meal, with our own STUFF!

The rest of the week and last weekend was rinse and repeat. We headed out each night to get stuff, bootstrapping ourselves up in an expensive hurry: Bob's parents were arriving on our doorstep last Monday and we had to get to a position to be able to offer at least some hospitality. Still, we're pretty well set now. We've got bed linin and towels and so forth, we have lots of pillows, and enough furniture to live on. We've got a purple toaster and jug, a bright pink piggy bank, soldier egg-cups and Moomin mugs, and a squid whisk, several fry pans and sauce pans, and tea towels. Once we're done decorating we'll get photos of that too: we've decided that we would not be subtle with colours as we decorate, and are aiming to fill the place with lots (and lots (and lots)) of stupidly bright clashing primary colours, aiming for the same vibe as a kindergarten. Did I mention we have a squid whisk?

On top of and around this my work was pretty insane for a week, and then this past week I had a few conferences and workshops to attend and was kind of crazed for time and energy. Bob performed wonders, sorting out our internet access and phone, as well as keeping her parents entertained. So, we're getting there. We've had our gym induction, and sorted the paperwork out there, and will have the access keys on Monday (then have 24 hour access). We've got ourselves sorted out with training at the London Longsword Academy with Dave Rawlings, Bob's got herself sorted out with a Morris side. Oh, and we went to a rapper festival (not what you think) in a couple of pubs in Soho, and so she's getting into that as well. We've started talking to re-enactment groups to get ourselves into the scene. So despite running ourselves ragged, we're bootstrapping ourselves up from having nothing but what we could carry on our backs, and knowing nobody, and knowing nothing.

Dancers at the Rapper Tournament in a Soho Pub 

Bob's proof that she was at DERT

It's not been an unpleasant period though. Despite the rain this week - we can't seem to convince Bob's parents that this past week has been the first we week we've had here, Spring has truly sprung, and there are flower beds full of flowers everywhere

There are decorations and art everywhere in this town. Everywhere we go is a melange of tacky, grubby, shiny, sparkling, elegant and banal, all layered over each other. Most of the underground stations for instance have themed decorations - Sherlock Holmes (of course) at Baker Street, medieval illustrations at Charing Cross, and these Ghryphons in the tiles at Bank

Bemused Bob at Bank

 There seems to be a willingness to do Big Things here, a boldness, even when it's tacky. So at one end of the Stable Markets, where it blends into the Camden Markets, are these two massive emissaries from the future, outside the Cyberpunk district of the markets.

So, we're getting there. I'll leave you with Bob, because she's got a new scarf.

To Market, to market...

 We went off today to buy, or rather trade, a new Wacom tablet for Bob at the Covent Garden Apple Store. She's found that for her work there's an expectation that she'll fiddle with assets in Photoshop, quite outside the nature of her actual roles, and doing that with a mouse is like trying to sew with a block of soap. We ducked into the store on Thursday night after work to grab the tablet, initially, but she wasn't able to try it out in store. Unfortunately once we got it home and had a look at it, we found that it had an active area roughly the size of a postcard. Which was annoying, because the tablet itself was about the size of an 11" netbook, and the box it came in was too big to fit in her backpack. So we went back today, swapped it for the next size up, parted with more cash, and wet our merry way.

Which was across the road to Covent Garden markets. There are a lot of these spaces around London that we've found - historical markets that are near churches, with an associated open space and a covered market hall, generally dating back to somewhere in the 19th century. They're pretty varied as to what they now provide, but all feel like they've been active markets with unbroken traditions dating back to, well, forever.

The Borough market is under and around the rail bridges and flyovers at London Bridge, and specialises in fine food. The Camden markets sprawl around the canal locks, and specialise in tourist tat and cheap T-shirts. Covent Garden is arts and crafts, and some cafes, and specialises in really nice affordable art pieces. It's on three levels, with the lower level below street level and full of cafes, including someone with HUGE pans of fresh paella

 As we proceeded I heard opera being sung, and we found this couple of buskers - an actual couple, with their baby waiting patiently in it's pram on the sidelines - singing opera at each other, at the crowd above them, and at the people in the cafés. To my delight, they concluded with "Tonight, Tonight" from West Side Story, playing it out up and down the stairs and around the courtyard.

I was delighted by the way that Tony was singing down from the stairs to Maria, while the crowd pushed past up and down the stairs, and really struck by the way that Maria was singing to the crowd below - playing out her part and telling the audience what she was feeling, as if they weren't playing out parts.

We've been going well, although we've been frantically busy still. Bob's been finding work, although it's been short term contracts so far, and I've been working longer hours than I intended, a habit I'm trying to break. 

My work is good. I'm working for a company called Somo, who are a full-service mobile advertising agency. Not quite an industry I ever expected to be in, but I'm enjoying the energy and creativity in the company. We really are a full-service agency, able to do everything from design to implementation of mobile solutions for advertising (including Android and iOs applications), and my role is closing the circle on the process - we're building out an application which will enable the ad agencies to accurately correlate advertising about the applications to downloads and use of the applications, and the response to any banner ads in the applications themselves.

It's a great position for me - the application exists in beta form provided by a third party, and I'm the first Java hire in the team that will take it to production, with development bought back in-house. It's exactly the sort of thing I want to be doing, and gives me the chance to finally put into practice the beliefs I've been developing and espousing.

And back to Tony and Maria. At the end of their song, she walked slowly toward him, and they embraced, while the crowd applauded.

This is the sort of thing that makes this city amazing. There's always something interesting around the corner, something breathtaking, or amusing, or inspiring.

Back to Work

Well, my holiday and search for work is now over. Bob has a number of good prospects, and is working with an agency to maximise her options for landing a contract position in the next few weeks.

I've taken up the role of Senior Java Developer with Somo, in an office that is not only about 100m from the statue of Eros in Picadilly Circus, but has a view across the city, and down into the circus. In a way it's funny to describe my role as "a" Java developer, as I'm currently the Java developer. The company has a new product that's not entirely publicly visible yet, which was built by an external company. They've decided they want the product to continue in house, and so are going to build a team to carry it forward.

Next step: somewhere to live permanently. Stay tuned for further news.

Quebec

It's been a full and crazy week. Monday night we went off to see Genticorum in the basement of the Slaughtered Lamb. Has there ever been a better name? Genticorum are a Quebecois trio, performing traditional Quebecois folk, and their own stuff, and are seriously awesome.

It's been a wild whirl of job seeking this week, and I have reached the end of the week with not one, but two offers for awesome jobs, and am now left with the tough decision of which I will choose. By the time most of you read this, I will have chosen, and hope to tell you about it. One of the jobs is up near Kings Cross station, and the other is around the corner from Picadilly Circus. As we went through there on Thursday afternoon, photos occurred:

The giant screens over the square had crashed, and we were amused to see not only was the media being delivered via Dropbox, but that some tech had remotely logged in to have a look at the logs in Notepad and was sitting somewhere saying "oh god oh god oh god how do i fix this?"

Eros, as ever, was unperturbed. I will have to get photos of the building overlooking this, where a trio of golden girls eternally dive into the crowd below.

And for no readily apparent reason, there's an awesome statue of four prominently male stallions apparently bursting from the wall. I would like to think they have names, but if I do take the job near here,  will name them myself.

One of these days I will try to take awesome photos of what is awesome in the V&A. This is not one of them, and does not readily convey that this is a hallway full of the Renaissance marbles not spectacular enough to put in the main gallery. I wanted to go to the V&A yesterday in order to think about my quandary, although we did get seriously distracted en-route in Hamley's, and swamped by hordes of feral New Zealanders apparently rampaging through Kensington in order to celebrate Waitangi Day a few days early. 

The thing about going to the V&A to think - or some of the other astounding places we have found - is that there is indescribable pleasure and comfort to be found in just sitting in, or strolling through, rooms filled with staggering beauty.

And in other news, we have finally had snow. It probably won't last, but while it's here we are enjoying it immensely.

Our garden patio became slightly less comfortable for eating breakfast in, and we strolled down through Hampstead to find coffee and breakfast, and throw snowballs in the common, detouring through the cemetery as we returned. I hope for more snow, and will be thrilled even when it turns to disgusting brown slush.