As I get older

The Beatles were going on about 'when I get older, losing my hair,.... when I'm sixty four' but that was not something I ever had to worry about, since I lost most of my hair by the time I was twenty five! In any case, growing older has nothing to do with the precise years of our life, more about our state of body and, perhaps more importantly, mind.

Such a funny thing getting older, bringing pleasure and pain in equal measure, along with a different perspective on life and what is left of it. Please don't get me wrong, this has nothing to do with wanting to live forever or the state my life is in at present. I'm in a bit of a philosophical mood, that's all.

What troubles me is how, around me, the people I have either admired or loved are now popping off and leaving me in the lurch, feeling lonely and somewhat lost. Favourite authors, esteemed politicians (yeah, I know, but there are a few), admired teachers, close family and friends are biting the dust even as I hang on, however tenuously. It is as if a whole layer of my life is being dismantled, maybe even more than one, and it leaves me feeling bereft, upset, incomplete.

'What is the alternative, you idiot?' I hear you ask and, I must confess, I know not of one that can be realistically applied, as death is inevitable, natural and comes to us all sooner or later. Indeed the longer we stick around the more we are likely to experience loss all around us, near us. And this hurts, deeply, but it is a pain we must learn to live with, not expunge.

Still, age has compensations, especially in the accumulation of, for want of a better word, wisdom (well, that will fit nicely with our theme...) and the better understanding of our world, our fellow humans, the past, present and future. Every day we are alive we learn something new, add a little bit to our store of knowledge, improve our comprehension, become more complete. Alas just as we get closer to this holy grail we also discover that we are thought of by many as dinosaurs, classified as useless and largely ignored, if not actively scorned, by a society that worships youth and appears to applaud ignorance and inexperience. Talk about ironic...

Part of the problem is that we've been around too long, have become cynical (only a tad, though!) and seen too much to be easily impressed by a lot of the bullshit that flies around at any given moment - when you've seen/heard one generation of b/s verbalisation you've seen/heard them all and spot them a million miles away. After all, only the details vary, the hot air is still the same.

Our body is another problem, as age takes its toll, though all that's needed is a bit of care and attention to the mechanics to function at least adequately. Yes, we have to nurture and protect our body and, indeed, our mind; exercise, done sensibly and with appropriate guidance, will help us stay in good condition for much longer.

Sexual desire diminishes, of course, but for a man (and I am indeed such) it may be no bad thing, as it ceases to be a dominant - and sometimes destabilising - influence on our day-to-day lives; we start valuing quality before quantity, depth before length. Sure, performance (ha-ha) can be less predictable but equally, if not more, pleasurable for that - yes, even without viagra or whatever other stimulation you can think of.

So I feel happy getting older and not only considering the alternative. I may despair more at the state of the world, the incompetence of politicians or the mess my own life is in, but do so from a far more enlightened and informed position, which alters slightly every day as I learn or understand something new; my reactions are guided more by comprehension than prejudice, cause and effect rather than dreaming.

This piece is highly personal and written from my perspective, even if it includes a plethora of generalisations. It is not intended to portray objective truths, though I feel it probably largely does. And to make it even more personal, I would like to hereby make it absolutely clear that the day I cease to learn and absorb new influences, the day I cease to evolve is the day I would like to cease breathing as well, for I will have stopped living.

London's little gem, hidden away

Alfie's Antiques Market is fairly obscure, so that not even many Londoners know it well, or even know it exists. It is on Church Street, NW8, off Lisson Grove, broadly speaking in the general area known as Marylebone. It is an entire building devoted to antiques of varying descriptions and it contains many stalls, some weird and wonderful and others just wonderful, spread over 4 floors. Well worth a visit if you like to browse or even buy antiques, it has a unique atmosphere somewhere between the exotic and the seedy.

Well I love the place, despite the fact that I don't buy antiques in my current impoverished state. Being a North London boy for the best part of the last forty years, I used to live just up the road from Alfie's for many years and was vaguely aware of its charms, but it is only in the last few years that I have fallen head over heels, especially for the rooftop restaurant and cafe.

London used to have many bohemian places hidden away in different areas, often basements or little sidestreets, looking after an eclectic if not always financially robust clientele; in the last few years these places have dwindled, chased away by the growth of chain restaurants and cafes. By definition bohemian places cannot be cloned and made into chains but must be individual and unique, odd and characterful - there is nothing more depressing than a place pretending to be individual, with the designer touch and artefacts bought in by the lorry load to look authentic and different. The branded restaurant philosophy is the exact opposite of eccentricity, craves uniformity and is more about consistency and reliable standards. It brings about the death of individuality and quirkiness, pays no mind to authenticity, is no labour of love but a business product.

Within Alfie's, though, in fact right at the top of it, is a very London place, individual and bohemian in an endearing way; it is imaginatively called the Rooftop Kitchen at Alfie's, would you believe. I urge you to visit it at once and enjoy not only reasonably priced, well-prepared food but also a lovely terrace of the kind rarely found these days. This is a simple, laid-back place, much like the rest of Alfie's but with a unique roof terrace that is just lovely, amid West London's residential jungle. In nice weather you can spend hours up there, enjoying the calm and whiling away the time, eating, drinking or just having a coffee and some cake. I did just that when celebrating my birthday some months ago, helped by just a drop or two of wine.

Modesty is the word here, and the menu is simple and not elaborate, though the daily specials can be adventurous. The small open-plan kitchen delivers honest food cooked well and served with warmth and respect in my experience. Fare varies from the various brunchy items (Eggs Benedict, Full English etc.) to an excellent beefburger, falafel wrap and fish cakes. The chips are pretty good too.

The staff are friendly and unpretentious, but efficient, to go with the spirit of the place. You do not come here for starched tablecloths, formality and haute cuisine. You do not come here for flashy patrons, wealth or fashion, nor for displays of  self-importance from either customers or staff. Instead, you come here to relax, drink in the superb London atmosphere and eat decent food, lovingly prepared. The people here want you to have a good time and they have assembled a simple wine offering to help you - one each of white/rose/red and Prosecco, why complicate life unnecessarily? They also offer several bottled beers, other drinks too, and a thirst-quenching Italian lager (Poretti, now owned by Carlsberg) on draft. Ah, I could spend hours eating and drinking on that magical terrace, or just sitting there with a cup of coffee - yes they do tea, coffee and cakes rather competently also. But I also find the interior space pleasant and relaxing, though obviously not quite as special as the terrace.


If you are a Londoner who likes bohemian, individual places and have never been here, hurry up and redress that, you'll love it.

If you are a visitor to London, especially from abroad, this place is particularly noteworthy because it is not expensive, unlike so many of the restaurants aimed at tourists. Forget everything you have been told about London, if you are restrained it can work out pretty cheap but, in any case, it is very, very reasonable no matter what you do. It is off the beaten track, off the radar of 'places you must visit' guides and is relaxed, fun and very London. It can be your special, secret, place in this bustling, sometimes inhuman city.

Alas it's not all good news: the Rooftop Kitchen is only open Tuesday to Saturday from 10 in the morning to 6 in the evening, restricted as they are by the hours of the Antiques Market (though they do have special events very occasionally, check with them), so neither you nor, more importantly, I can spend long decadent evenings on the glorious little terrace, drunk on atmosphere or something stronger. But if you happen to have some free time during the day, pop down (or up) there and you'll see what I mean when I say that we need this place, and others like it, to survive and thrive, in all their eccentric individuality. I love this little gem, and I think you will too - I just wish I could go there more often!

P.S.:  For the cynical among you, no, I have no connection with the place whatsoever and will benefit not at all from your visit, even if you appear clutching a copy of this blog and singing my praises. But go anyway and help !

Country of Contradictions - a 1st glimpse

I recently had the great good fortune of visiting Romania for a rare, extremely happy occasion - my relative's 100th birthday celebrations! Other than meeting members of my family never before encountered, all connected through our family's past in Romania, my second mission was to try and understand this large country a little bit and comprehend why it is placed as it is in the modern world. What follows is a simplistic first attempt to understand a complex country created, like many others in Europe, during the 19th century as the various dominant empires collapsed and disappeared.

Let us start with the positives: Romania is a beautiful country, with varied scenery and some attractive architecture which the years of communism failed to completely eradicate. Some of this hails from the distant past, with castles aplenty, citadels and fortified churches / monasteries and are in differing states of repair according to importance, provenance and means. Other buildings are just survivors of the prosperous time in the early part of the 20th century when the well-off and the growing middle class were investing in what they thought was a better future. I even saw an impressive if over-the-top vanity project - Pelesh Castle, but really a palace - built for Carol 1, first king of Romania, above the resort town of Sinaia in the mountains as a country retreat.

But while architecture may help set the scene it is the people who make it real and bring things to life. Much has been heard about the awfulness of some Romanians, who go to places like London or Paris to live a parasitic existence on the back of generous welfare availability and a credulous population - modern-day vultures of sorts; in my, admittedly limited, experience they are the exception. Most Romanians I met are good people ravaged by years of communism and corruption and suffering under difficult economic conditions. Immigration is for them an attempt at economic salvation, as their country is in a tight spot at the moment.

Why is this? How can a country that is fertile, blessed with oil and not overpopulated be in the financial doghouse to the extent that Romania is? This is not, on paper, a poor country.

The Romania that we see is a relatively modern creation, carved from the body of the collapsing Ottoman Empire at more or less the same time as other neighbouring Balkan states. Its transition from a feudal backwater to a modern state was not a smooth affair, caught as it was between powerful empires pulling and pushing, vying for control. The pace of modernisation was ponderous despite the efforts of an educated elite (mainly metropolitan, I believe), and met resistance from various quarters, some of whom were protecting their long-established privileges and others manoeuvring to acquire some. This explosive mix was not helped by two World Wars and numerous regional conflicts, nor by the rise of Fascism.

The arrival of Communism wiped away the old ruling classes and replaced everything with the party system, in which you were in or out. Whilst the Romanian communists may not have been as brutal as Stalin would have liked, their economic policies were just as utopian and unproductive as their counterparts elsewhere in the communist world; corruption, already a factor in the local way of life, became endemic and institutionalised. I am told that the fall of communism and the return of a democratic system (no King, though...) has seen little change in both the people in control and the levels of corruption: communist-era people largely still pull the strings, often behind the scenes, and corruption remains a major factor in everyday life.

So this large country, whose wheat once fed Europe, whose oil reserves made it wealthy and which had a very active trading economy on the Danube and the Black Sea languishes in poverty, with many Romanians seeking to make a life elsewhere. I am told (but have no first-hand knowledge) that doing business in Romania is a bit like the Wild West, something that, together with the rampant corruption, will make foreign investors reluctant to take the plunge. In a country with so much to offer that is nothing short of a tragedy, one whose effect the Romanian people are enduring every day.

I realise that this post barely scratches the surface, and would like to do a more detailed and extensive one on Romania once I've had the chance to study it a bit better. It may take awhile... If anyone out there has information that could help, I would be grateful. And do visit the place, there's a lot to see!

P.S. : I apologise that I have no 'gritty' photographs for you, no urban blight, no ruins with 'for sale' signs, no poor people selling tat so as not to be looked upon as beggars. I photographed in my ham-fisted way only beauty, in buildings and nature.

I'm a little piglet...

Oink, oink!

'Face it, you're a pig' said my friend Mervyn the other day, not without affection but simultaneously critical. He had been reading my blog (I have at least one reader...!) and had reached his conclusion, unclouded by doubt and only confirmed by my less than svelte appearance. 'You simply overdo it' he said, or words to that effect.

Well, I was intrigued, even a bit upset, as I don't view myself quite like that. Was he right? Do I just overdo it all the time, stuffing my face and pouring enormous quantities of fine wine down my gullet? Was my existence not one of Spartan denial and abstinence but an endless round of gastronomic consumption, of almost gargantuan proportions?

Yes and no, as that wonderful creation Sir Humphrey would say in Yes, Minister (for my money the best comedy series ever). I do eat and drink, sometimes to excess, but hardly ever in an uncontrolled fashion with no rhyme or reason. And I try, when I have exceeded my self-imposed limits, to balance things out during the days that follow. Generally, though not abstemious, I live a pretty controlled life eating and drinking-wise.

Having said that, I find food and wine endlessly interesting, intriguing, challenging, from the lowliest fast food to the finest haute cuisine, treating everything I consume with great seriousness, literally everything. Food and drink are very important in my life, their tastes/textures/smells, not so much in terms of quantity as quality; they are a big part of who and what I am, what I enjoy in life. Not everyone feels that way and I understand and accept this - many other people I know are far less interested and/or more restrained, so perhaps they can be critical of those who are different. Should they be, though?

To my mind there is nothing finer in life that sharing decent food and wine with good people, friends or potential friends, nothing more civilised and civilising. It is unthinkable that I would ever be barred from doing so and, if that were to happen, I would seriously consider departing this life; if shown incapable of it, would spend the rest of my days in misery. Food (and wine, like the two bottles shown) is something I take very, very seriously, evaluate constantly (always in context) and enjoy in solitude or, preferably, with company. Though not entirely an omnivore, I do enjoy trying new things, new tastes and textures (not slimy, please...).

Do I eat to excess? Sometimes I do, at other times I am very restrained. Do I eat uncontrollably, just gobble down food till I cannot eat any more? Never. Am I greedy? Yes, but rarely to excess. Do I eat fattening things? Of course I do, some of them are healthy (pistachio nuts, avocado etc.) and others less so. Would I benefit from losing weight? Certainly, if I were ten kilograms or so lighter it wouldn't be a bad thing, and I'm aware of that.

But next time somebody places an interesting plate of food in front of me I will consume it with gusto and maybe ask for a little more. I'll enjoy thinking about the ingredients, how they were brought together and if there could be a better way of doing so. Then I'll wash it all down with a nice glass of wine or an interesting beer, critically judging the combination. And I'll clear up my plate, mopping up the sauce with some decent bread, to the great satisfaction of the cook/chef, usually earning me a big smile of appreciation.

I wonder if pigs do that sort of thing?


P.S.  :  The two wines shown were enjoyed on two separate occasions.
The 2015 Coriole Chenin Blanc from Australia (unusually from McLaren Vale, mainly red wine country) was everything you'd expect from a well-made CB - crisp, with some depth, good structure and long on the palate. It was enjoyed with my friend Richard over a simple but excellent pizza lunch on a very rainy August day.
The Vasse Felix 2013 Sauvignon Blanc-Semillon is a typical Bordeaux blend, ages beautifully and has a lovely depth of flavour (lusciously white peachy), is complex and long with a gentle woody backdrop. A superb glass of wine and currently on offer at under £8.00 - a super bargain!

Madness, sadness, stupidity

For some reason a rather saccharine song from the early seventies stuck in my head today, while reading all the sad news from Spain, USA and across the world; it reminded me that not that long ago we were facing life with more compassion, love and understanding. This particular song was originally part of a Coca-Cola advert, but was then recreated entirely without reference to that product.

And it went, quote:

I'd like to build the world a home
and furnish it with love,
grow apple trees and honey bees
and snow white turtle doves

I'd like to teach the world to sing
in perfect harmony
I'd like to hold it in my arms
and keep it company

Your eyes may already be glazing over with boredom, but if you've never heard it you can find it on YouTube and it's by the New Seekers. It's naive and saccharine, yes, but expresses much of what we are lacking today - it is full of sentiment and talks about love. It was much derided at the time, partly due to its soft drink heritage, but it is not, of course, the only one of its kind.

Those of us who lived through the early seventies remember the optimism giving way to realism, to oil crises, energy crackdowns and three day weeks. Despite the glitter and the music, there was little optimism in the seventies, followed by the stark realism of the eighties and beyond. The flower children retreated, never to appear again. We ended up focussed on balancing the books - important, and long-forgotten - but neglected the sentiment, the feeling, the passion about making the world a better place not just for us, privileged westerners, but for everyone. We, unforgivably, ignored the human factor that holds everything together.

Please remember the past, the wars, the misery, the destruction, the killings. Let us not repeat the mistakes of the past, allow blind hate based on spurious principles/religions/beliefs to destroy lives and progress towards a more inclusive civilisation. Please be inspired by humanity and love, not by blind hatred and ignorance.

Is it wrong to want to teach the world to sing in perfect harmony? A little naive, maybe, but wrong?

Maybe love is not the answer to everything, but I know that hate certainly is the answer to nothing! Let's not allow it to taint and destroy our world, wherever it comes from.

English Summer - back to normal!

There I was raving about the gorgeous weather in London and southern England not that long ago, pretending that rain here was a thing of the past... Well, reality has reasserted itself in the shape of a cool August with lots of rain, just as I was getting my shorts ready for more fine weather. Perhaps it was optimistic of me to think that the summer of 2017 would be so different than most summers past, but there you go; I'm a bit of a dreamer, me.

So the weather is cooler in London, which is no bad thing, as the city is not built for extreme heat. Wandering about the tourist- thronged streets is far more pleasant, though high humidity still means that rapid motion results in copious sweating ('glowing' in the case of women, I suppose). All in all it's all pretty pleasant apart from the rain, which restricts the movement of pedestrians like me or results in very wet clothing.

What hasn't changed, of course, is the glory of nature in full verdant bloom. London's parks are oases,  glimpses of paradise in such a big city, lush and inviting for Londoners and visitors alike; they truly are one of the great glories of this megalopolis, helping to humanise it, somehow soften it. They are also one of the reasons why I love London and living here.

But enough of that, because today has been an absolutely miserable day weather-wise - it has rained and rained, then rained some more. The charming Australian couple I bumped into at a tube station this morning asked me, in a somewhat bemused tone, 'what happened to your nice English summer?' And, of course, this is the other side of my optimistic earlier post; luckily this year we have had both, but I do remember summers that were primarily wet and miserable, with few redeeming days.

Anybody walking around London today, soaked to the skin and dripping water, would be entitled to question not only global warning but climate change in general, as it is also chilly. Weather is, was, and always will be unpredictable, though, so that we shouldn't judge more general trends on the basis of a few days, possibly extreme for the time of year.

Tomorrow is forecast to be largely sunny, folks, so all is not lost, but the message from me in London is: weather is changeable so don't worry about it too much, and certainly don't let it ruin your day. It tried and failed to ruin mine today, though I must admit that getting wet is no fun, nor do I particularly enjoy lugging an umbrella everywhere with me. But don't we all have more important things to worry about...???

100 is the magic number

You've missed me, haven't you? Go on, admit it - it's been a while, after all. Well, here's your chance to find out a bit more about me and mine, to get to know me better, so read on, carefully! You can even make notes for future reference if you want to.

We all realise that we don't choose our families in the same way we do our friends and they can often be a source of disappointment and frustration, even unhappiness and misery. But you'll be pleased to learn that one fortunate individual -me - has been extremely lucky in this life with both his friends (well-chosen and wonderful) and his family (not chosen but pretty damn special). And as I've bored you repeatedly talking about my friends, friendship and my great good fortune in having them, I've decided the time has come to talk about my family - boring has never been so interesting!

Those of you who read and remember my every word will know that due to life's vagaries I have been extremely badly off financially for at least the last couple of years, and that most of the good times and/or luxuries in my life today are made possible due to the generosity of my friends. Time now to add my extended family to that as, in their own way, they are as special as my friends, so very, very special.

I've recently been to Romania for a relative's (my paternal grandmother's first cousin) 100th birthday party, a very rare occasion in any family. This particular relative, quiet and modest, was born in Romania but left not long after the communist takeover, forging a career in shipping and trading in western Europe and flitting between Paris, London and Geneva. Since the fall of communism he has been able to return to Romania as a visitor, and even reclaim some of the old family property thus allowing him to spend some time there every year. That's him in the photograph with the watering can, a remarkable individual who walks for at least an hour most days and belies his age with a vitality that many younger people envy, not least among family members; it was an honour to be invited to take part in the celebrations.

The great day dawned with few clouds in the sky, but our quiet breakfast was disturbed by well-wishers bringing flowers and cards, and generally coming to pay their respects. I was certainly touched and wouldn't have minded but for the fact that I was in shorts and a worn t-shirt, not expecting visitors... a bit embarrassing, this. Still, it was the start of what was a brilliant day full of emotion; luckily for me, there was plenty of food and drink as well! And many interesting people, all there to convey their best wishes and share in this little moment of history.

It is impossible to accurately describe the emotions of the day, the strength of feeling, the love, kindness and generosity of spirit permeating the proceedings, but it is a day that I shall remember with pride for the rest of my days.