Every year it amazes me that the Notting Hill carnival is allowed to take place, given the sheer amount of detritus it leaves in its wake. But it’s testament to the spirit of this glorious city that it does go ahead, and that it’s managed so well and enjoyed by so many. This year I went on both days, spending most of Sunday at the appropriately named Good Times bus and today at the Red Bull sound system under the Westway in Portobello. The latter was a private party I was lucky enough to win tickets to in a public ballot along with 999 other people (out of 19,000 who applied, or so someone I met this afternoon informed me). With a stellar line up of djs and a free bar from midday to 7pm it was always going to be an awesome party, and so it was, despite the fact we were feeling a touch jaded after yesterday’s frivolities. Right now I’m feeling like I’ve had a bit too much fun this weekend, but I’m sure I’ll do it all over again next year. Let the good times (bus) roll…
I’ll admit (and yes, I know I’m using the word ‘I’ – argh) that things have gone rather awry this past few days where posting on this blog’s been concerned. In large part this has been due to poor advance planning of the bank holiday weekend, two consecutive afternoon rooftop parties (get me with my busy social life) on Saturday and Sunday having left virtually no time for writing. However, it’s fair to say I also experienced some not insignificant technical issues (wifi being down, computers crashing etc) that meant having to upload to the blog via smartphone – which apparently didn’t work very well.
So anyway, we are where we are, no point crying over spilt milk etc. The main fact is I did still find a way to post, even if the posts themselves were substandard in quality and not always accompanied by pictures. As recompense I’d planned to wow you with a stunning comeback blog today, but time has run away with me yet again, and as I’m now about to run out of the door to tonight’s Bookslam (featuring the great Caitlin Moran and Hadley Freeman, no less) this somewhat cobbled together piss-poor excuse for a blog post will once again have to do.
I’m better than this. And I’m sorry.
Normal service will resume tomorrow.
No more excuses.
Today is an April showery-May-the-4th. Not having anticipated this in the wake of several glorious days of sunshine, this means I am umbrella-less, and therefore at the mercy of the weather gods. The situation is further compounded by two factors. Firstly, not only is today April showery in nature, it is also blustery. This, perhaps, bodes not well for a rooftop (ergo ‘open air’) party in East London. Secondly, sleep deprivation levels are high, my fail safe plan of having a quiet night in to prepare for the weekend having been woefully unmatched by the plans of the other residents in the abode in which I slept. Hence there has been no morning run around Regents Park (though see earlier point about rain-does this let me off the hook on that one?)
In short, conditions for embracing a full on weekend of social engagements are far from optimal. But you know what? It doesn’t even matter. Because not only is it a bank holiday weekend (I’ll admit it smarts slightly that I won’t be paid for Bank Hol Monday, since Mondays are my official days off now I’m part time), I’m also en route for baby cuddles in Herne Hill. And everyone knows baby cuddles make EVERYTHING better.