Dispatches; Movin' On Up in London

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So, as you know- or don't know maybe- things didn't really work out in South America for whatever reasons. It's a pity, for although I had planned to stay for the forseeable it turned out that I was away for about 6 weeks in all. Not very good innings I know but these things can't be helped, and when you've made your mind up about doing something, sure you may as well do it.
Osgur and Siobhan are two very kind people i'm happy to know and made their home pretty much my own for a lot of my brief stay. It was like a small part of home in the middle of La Paz, complete with roast potatoes and gravy. Osgur is a good boss to have too; not afraid to let his hair down (metaphorically) with the kids but fiercely averse to nonsense and, as such, has developed a keen nose for detecting bullshit. I'm sure his new venture over there will be a successful one as long as he has a say in how it's run. There's a good head on his shoulders.

The lads I worked with; chiefly Alen, Cameron, and Nolly, are great chaps. Completely off the wall, batshit crazy, but at the same time helpfull, kind, and friendly. They have a clear idea of how to work and have fun at the same time, and in so doing involve everyone else within a 200 metre blast radius too. It's impossible to start a shift and not have a laugh as long as one or all of these fellows are nearby, which they generally are. They're also good blokes to have about when the shit hits the fan (or the bed sheets, for that matter).
Just the other day I heard that Cameron had left Loki hostel after several years service; I know he'll be well missed and I can't help but feel that the place won't be the same without him.

And then I left. It wasn't for me in the end; I think I may have been about 10 years too old to take on a beast like Loki La Paz. Ah well, if you don't go you won't know. So I unassed from Bolivia and headed home. I hadn't the funds to go exploring unfortunately, so had no choice. I spoke to Osgur and Siobhan and was reassured that it was ok, no problem, no harm done. I flew to Lima, then Madrid, and finally stopped off in London to say hello to the mother and see her off on her trip to New Zealand. Her motherly instincts kicked right in and I was soon fed from arsehole to beak, quickly putting all the weight back on that i'd shat away in South America. Iberia had lost my luggage somewhere on a different continent so what I had on my back was all I possessed.

My mother and Steve headed off on their annual trip to New Zealand, and it was whiloe they were gone that I had the idea of maybe staying here. It wasn't untill a friend mentioned it too that i really considered it. Why not? It's fairly close to home, there's plenty of friends living here too, and it's a fantastic city to be in. Huge and fast, old and modern, lots to see and do. We'll see what happens. I've received my National Insurance Number and i've begun the whole sending out CVs and online application thing.

Over the past few weeks I've met up with numerous heads who for whatever reasons have come to London from Ireland. They all seem to love it, and a change of scenery and culture is never a bad thing. It seems a bit naive and bumpkinish, but I love travelling on the tube and still get a kick out of hearing 'Mind The Gap' when the doors are opening.
So, yesterday the plan was to head to Richmond and meet up with some of the heads and have a few scoops while watching the boat race, or football, or something. It was a bit chilly and cloudy so plan B was put in effect whereby we sat inside the pub rather than on the banks of the Thames. We didn't see any of the rowing, but by all accounts it was a two horse race, and either Oxford or Cambridge won. I found it hard to get over excited about it, and I honestly wonder do you have attend Oxford or Cambridge Universities to really have any kind of interest in it at all. But it made for good background sound, so no harm.
Barry decided he was heading up to Brixton to watch the Ireland V Macedonia football match, so off we went, jumping on and off various trains and busses. We got in to the pub in time to see Irelands second goal, but the main topic of conversation was not how the hell did an ugly pug like Robbie Keane get his mits on Claudine (awful harpy she may well be, according to the girls, but the fellas don't mind). No, the talk on everyones lips was the Primal Scream gig in the Brixton Academy up the road where they were performing their seminal 1991 Screamadelica album live. Sure enough, it was soon decided that this may be too good an opportunity to miss so when the match was finished we downed our pints and marched off to the Scream.
A whip round was done to secure a couple of tickets, and because of my precarious financial situation Barry, Jacqueline and Mick coughed up for mine. Thanks chaps, and once i'm waged i'll get you back. In fact there's a lot of folk I need to square away once I'm waged. I'm more than grateful, and slightly embarrassed about it.

The Brixton Academy is a fantastic venue. It's a bit like the Olympia in Dublin only about twice the size. The sound is great, and you can only imagine the countless numbers of legends who've taken to the stage. Tonight it was Primal Scream. Playing their classic Screamadelica album live it was hard to see how they could fail to entertain. From the start to the end nobody sat down; they absolutely rocked the place down, the sound was deafening and even now a day later my ears are still ringing.
I think Mani, the one time bass player of The Stone Roses, was the coolest cat of the night. He stayed rooted in the one spot, quite out of the spotlight and just to the right of the drum kit. Hard to see, but easy to hear. The bass makes the drums stick, as they say.
I remember in 1992 when I decided to take art as a subject in the Leaving Cert. My school didn't offer it as a subject unfortunately so I took it on myself. I attended history of art lessons in Templeogue for an hour every Friday. It was a great time, learning with gusto a subject I loved and was facinated by. The soundtrack to all this was provided by a scratchy cassette tape of Screamadelica played over and over on my walkman. And with the added feature of auto reverse I didn't even have to take the tape out to turn it over. Heady days with uncertain, exciting times ahead hopefully.
For about two hours last night I was 16 again, and bounced around the place just like him. Marvellous!

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