Glasto 2013

We returned from Glastonbury early on the4pm National Express coach yesterday, in order to get a good night’s rest before embarking on our trip to Florence on Monday. It turned out to be an excellent plan, as not only were we exhausted after three days of hard partying and sleeping in a tent, it was also much less busy leaving than it would have been at the very end.

As ever, the festival didn’t disappoint. I’m always surprised when I hear people bad mouthing Glastonbury; how anyone can argue against it being the original, the biggest and the best festival the UK has to offer is beyond me. There’s so much to do there-something for everyone-and it’s so well planned and thought out that you could never want for anything (except perhaps some more sleep!)

This year’s musical highlights included Bondax, Hospitality, Rudimental, The Stones, Fatboy Slim (on the phenomenal Arcadia stage, which almost defies description but is essentially a giant mechanical spider with a dj booth in the head, and moving pincers that acrobats spiral up and down from-oh, and also fire jets), Chase & Status, Toddla T & Mal Webb (an Aussie who’s not only a great entertainer but also a bit of a comedian to boot-look him up) in the Hippy Fields.

Lowlights included nearly being crushed to death whilst attempting to exit the Stones gig, the most horrendous hayfever I’ve ever had, a touch of sunburn (but we had sun-so yay!) and an ill advised fake tattoo saying “I Love Cock”, which seemed hilarious after a few ciders but which took a great deal of effort to scratch off-particularly unpleasant given the aforementioned sunburn).

I also loved the Boudior tent where you could get your face painted by the very lovely “Glitter Girls”, and have group passport photos in the dress up photo booth. There’s something so liberating about embracing your inner child and dressing up, and Glastonbury sure is the place to do it.

All in all I had a thoroughly enjoyable weekend with my friends, and despite initially thinking at the ripe old age of 31 this might be my third and final Glasto, I’m glad to report I’ve got a few years in me yet 🙂 Because this weekend’s reinforced how inclusive Glastonbury is of all age groups. Young or old, everyone’s welcome, and that’s perhaps the best thing of all. Michael Eavis, I salute you. And I WILL be back.

Festival fever

It’s 6.09pm as I type this and I’ve officially finished work. All that stands between me and Glastonbury 2013 is an evening of last minute packing, a few brief hours’ rest and a three and a half hour coach ride to the site in Pilton, Somerset.

My first experience of the festival in 2005 was somewhat traumatic. A festival (and indeed camping) virgin I’d arrived fresh-faced with my pink two-man tent and solar-powered shower, completely oblivious to the reality of what I was about to endure. Which was, in short, four days of torrential rain (and by torrential I mean on the first night it rained so hard peoples’ tents were washed away and police divers were called in to retrieve their passports and valuables).

When I returned in 2008 the weather gods were marginally kinder. As I recall it only rained for half of the festival, but when you’re trying to negotiate a site that big even the smallest amount of rain can play havoc with your enjoyment of the general experience.

Although this year the forecast predicts some light rain showers, it’s looking like we may avoid a total wash out (she says, crossing fingers, toes and everything in between). But nonetheless I shall be packing my wellies and my mac – I know too well the British forecast should never be trusted…Wish me luck!

Incapacitated

So, it turns out the satisfaction I felt after six hours spent cleaning out my bedroom on Saturday afternoon came at a price: Namely, acute back pain.

With hindsight lugging heavy bags of rubbish around with scant concern for my posture was foolish, but it’s too late to turn back the clock now. What started as a niggle is now a full blown injury (I won’t deny being a hypochondriac, but this time I’m not lying when I say I’m in agony) but with grit, determination and a LOT of painkillers I HAVE to get through it-because believe you me, there’s no way in God’s green earth I’ll be missing Glastonbury.

Once I’m at the festival I’m sure I’ll be fine-I can self-medicate with cider and sloe gin-it’s just the getting there that’s the problem. More specifically, it’s trekking across numerous fields carrying a rucksack bursting at the seams with mattresses, pumps, tents, tinned food and various other paraphernalia that’s the problem.

Still, I suppose as a seasoned festival-goer I should embrace the challenge, slap a heat patch on my back and give it my best shot-I may fall before I even reach the front gate, but at least I’ll fall knowing I tried, and with a can of gin and tonic in my hand…

 

 

Winning

Thus far today’s been one of those rare and gorgeous days where everything runs exactly to plan. I was up at 8am, at my desk by 9am and by 10.30am had submitted two magazine pitches and was donning my running shoes for a quick jaunt to Argos in Victoria, where I collected a camping stool for my forthcoming trip to Glastonbury Festival. By the time I arrived back home (by tube, since the camping stool didn’t lend itself all that well to being a running aid) I’d even had a reply from one of the editors (the good news is they want the article, the bad news is they’ve no budget – but never mind, it all adds to the online portfolio).

It’s now 2.30pm and I’ve just finished writing this month’s guest post for Bea Magazine (which will be online on the 30th) and drafted ideas for my blog posts over the next week (WordPress assures me I will not fail in my task of posting something every day of 2013, thanks to its clever functionality to schedule blog posts – shhh). Before I start writing them, however, I need to pop out to do a spot of pre-festival shopping – it’s time to stock up on cereal bars, meal replacement shakes and enough wet wipes to keep the dirtiest of festival-goers clean from head to toe…Quite a tall order…Happy Monday everyone!

My friends will kill me for posting this but I love it – this pic pretty much sums up how much I love Glastonbury and how excited I am to be going there in three days!

Why we should be proud of our young people

This afternoon I accompanied two senior members of my charity’s youth-led consultancy board (a group of Teens and Toddlers graduates who now help other young people to continue their personal and professional development, as well as themselves being helped by the charity on an ongoing basis through initiatives like corporate mentoring, work placements and signposting to relevant opportunities) to the Hackney University Technical College in order to do some filming for an exciting new youth initiative (which we’re not yet at liberty to discuss in the public arena). [As an aside, one of the two people I went with also now happens to be my colleague, which goes to show what a great job the charity does in helping young people to develop!]

The filming was coordinated entirely by year 10 students, and it was so incredibly inspirational to see how professional and focused they were, from the cameraman to the interviewer and everyone in between. What I personally found particularly uplifting was watching our young people talking to the students about how the charity had helped them, and seeing how enthusiastic they all were about this project and the prospect of working together in the future.

There will always be the odd down day in any job, but if ever I needed a reminder why I do this job it was this afternoon’s experience. This kind of frontline interaction is exactly what I’ve felt was missing in my previous jobs, and it’s both a privilege and an honour to be able to work closely with such fantastic young people on a regular basis.

Anyone with doubts about the future of today’s youth need only look to our YLCB and the Hackney UTC students to see there’s still so much to be hopeful about. Far from being a lost cause, on the basis of what I witnessed today we have every reason to be proud of the younger generation. Many of them are the leaders of tomorrow, and I have high hopes they’ll achieve great things.

Doldrums

Today the carefully arranged mask of Zen which I discovered in my course last week and had actually started to believe could be my true and serene self spectacularly slipped aside to reveal a considerably less calm interior. Unsurprisingly this has led to an upsurge of those familiar feelings of failure and frustration I’d hitherto been doing an impressive job of burying somewhere in the back of my unconscious (along with jealousy, bitterness, anger, rage and all the other unwanted emotions that reside there – although those ones I have at least managed to batten down the hatches on again).

The most frustrating thing is that I know the way I’m feeling is in almost entirely self-inflicted. I spent the weekend over indulging, entirely neglecting my body and mind’s requirements for healthy food, sleep and nurturing (and, let’s face it, this body and mind aren’t getting any younger). As a result both body and mind became unbalanced, and it’s only now as I begin to recognise this and pay some recompense to both that the situation can begin to be resolved. It’s hardly rocket science – disrespect your body and it will disrespect you back (or something to that effect) – though it seems I’m failing in this most rudimentary of comprehensions.

But you know what? It may be how the day began but wallowing is most certainly not how I want this day to end. The plethora of ‘problems’ I perceive when I’m tired and emotional are First World problems; none have serious repercussions. Instead of letting my brain dwell on negative thoughts I shall, for the remainder of this day, embrace the positive ones – of which there are so many – and be glad. So what if I’m tired and a bit out of sorts? I had a great weekend with my friends – and it was worth every minute. Now if somebody could just pass the Berocca…

Winning at life

You know those rare kinds of days when the universe seems suddenly to have aligned itself and all your hopes and dreams feel just that little bit closer to being realised? Well, today is one such day. Annoyingly I’m not yet in a position to be able to share all of the reasons for this sudden upturn of events. For now I can just say that positive changes are afoot, and that I feel excited about what the future holds for me and grateful for the good things that have come my way.

Other good things soon to come my way are two exciting birthday parties this weekend. Tonight we’re off to the Zoo Lates evening at the London Zoo to celebrate my colleague’s birthday (giraffe headband at the ready), and tomorrow it’s my good friend’s birthday party, for which he has decided to splash out and install three inflatable hot tubs in his garden so we can have an afternoon pool party. After last weekend’s course (which I loved every minute of but which, it must be said, was far from relaxing), I’m looking forward to letting my hair down and catching up with old friends in the glorious sunshine that’s finally decided to come out and play.

Apologies for the nauseating post but today I’m simply happy and I just wanted to share that.

Let wedding season commence

Today is my good friend and ex-colleague’s wedding in Shropshire, and as I shall shortly be embarking on the three hour journey with no wiggle room on timing this post will be brief. 

Whether it’s the occasion, the dresses, the speeches or the food, weddings have something for everyone. Even the most unromantic of souls can derive pleasure from a disco and a free bar. Weddings are also a great excuse for an overnight getaway, and a chance to let our hair down with a different crowd – scoffing cheese and nattering to Great Auntie Gladys before hitting the dance floor with Uncle Bert; what’s not to love?

But for those of us with a little more heart, being invited to watch our nearest and dearest exchanging vows is both a privilege and an honour. I never fail to have a tear in my eye at that moment when the deal is sealed and the bride and groom look at one another, dewy eyed and ecstatic, knowing from this point on they’ll be taking on the world together – as a team. I for one can’t think of anything more romantic than that.

So I’ve packed my dancing shoes and the little cream number from the Calvin Klein sample sale in New York that I’ve been dying to wear, and I am ready to P-A-R-T-Y. Like it’s 25th May 2013 – which, of course, it is. I’ll get my coat.

I captured this moment whilst walking around Central Park in New York on my visit in April.

 

Interactive dining at its best

Last night I went to Inamo restaurant in St. James near Piccadilly. Having been to its sister branch in Soho some time ago I knew what to expect in terms of its trademark interactive dining experience, but what I wasn’t prepared for was the beautiful décor and excellent service. As we entered we noticed a sign in the window proclaiming the restaurant to be ‘the best first date experience – as voted by Match.com’ – high praise indeed.

Upon arrival at Inamo one waiter takes your coat as another leads you past the swanky bar to your table. Different areas of the restaurant are sectioned off by tall bamboo poles, and at the far end is a feature wall with water trickling down in a waterfall effect, which adds to the exotic atmosphere. Once seated the waiter talks you through the ordering process – all food and drink is ordered through your table, which is effectively a giant computer screen. Each person has their own controls, and in addition to food and drink there are ‘added extras’ including a choice of virtual tablecloth, various games and a ‘chef cam’ giving you a view into the kitchen as your food is prepared. If you fancy going to a play after you’ve dined or need a cab home this can also be arranged at the touch of a button.

The interactive element of Inamo is what makes it so unique, but it could also be seen as somewhat of a gimmick. Fortunately the owners have pitched it just right; there are enough interactive elements to keep you occupied and entertained but they are very much a nice ‘add-on’ to the dining experience rather than a full-on assault of the senses. Which is as it should be, because the real star of the show is not the table but the food.

Inamo serves a delicious array of Japanese fusion food, with last night’s culinary treats including sushi and chicken satay starters, red Thai curry and miso salmon as mains and vanilla crème brulee for dessert. All agreed the stand out dish of the night was the pork belly with chocolate and chilli sauce, which defies description and must be tasted to be believed (but trust me, you won’t regret ordering it, it’s simply divine).

The cherry on the top of our meal was discovering the ‘three course for £20’ deal they currently have on included a glass of wine – that, and the delicious cocktail menu. As we rolled ourselves out of the door and were reminded of the award from Match.com, we could quite see why Inamo would be such a great first date venue. After all, if you didn’t like the company you could always busy yourself with choosing the tablecloth or playing a game – or just order a cab home…

Interactive dining at its best..

There’s no such thing as a ‘bad’ kid

I’ve just got back from my first afternoon visiting a Teens and Toddlers project at a nursery. Much as I’m ashamed to admit it I did have preconceptions about what the teenagers would be like. I’d assumed they’d be surly and uncommunicative, and that it would be difficult to engage with them, especially given that the teens on our programme are chosen precisely because they’re deemed to be more ‘at-risk’ (of dropping out of school, having children young etc.) than their peers.

But I’m delighted to say my experience was a total eye-opener and my preconceptions have been shelved. The six boys on the project I visited are all thirteen years old, and whilst they are typical teenagers who don’t always listen, aren’t all that keen on looking you in the eye and occasionally act up, on the whole they’re really lovely kids.

Classroom sessions aside, the real joy for me was seeing the way the boys interacted with their ‘toddlers’ in the nursery. It was a gloriously sunny afternoon which meant the toddlers were racing around outside in the play area. One of the boys had arrived at the nursery fuming about having had a personal possession stolen at school, and the facilitators were initially reticent about allowing him into the nursery to see his toddler, lest he carry his anger through to their session. Once he was out there, however, he was totally unselfconscious and behaved impeccably with his toddler. He even had a number of toddlers gathering around him to play because he was so much fun to be with.

Another boy, who had in the earlier classroom session refused to look any of us in the eye and acted bored, came alive with his toddler and spent ages lying on the ground play-fighting with them. I saw each of the six interacting with their toddlers in such a heart-warming way that it made me see every one of them in an entirely new light. When we returned to the classroom after the session with the toddlers they were alive with enthusiasm and keen to talk about the progress they had made with their toddlers.

At one point in the classroom we discussed what age would be the right age to have children. All the boys unanimously agreed that older than twenty five was ‘past it’ as far as they were concerned, which made me – a childless woman of thirty one with no immediate plans to have children – laugh. It’s been so long since I was their age I’d forgotten how old twenty five seems; like a lifetime away, though of course it’s really not.

Watching the boys – and the toddlers, come to that – today, it really wasn’t obvious that they have turbulent home lives. But I was reliably informed by the facilitator that some of them have an awful lot on their plates given their age. It’s hard enough being a teenager without having a host of problems to deal with in your personal life.

I’ve come away feeling more certain than ever that the work my charity’s doing with vulnerable children and disadvantaged teenagers is vital for the future of this country’s young people. No young person is inherently a ‘bad kid,’ it’s just that some of them need extra help to navigate their way through turbulent periods in their lives and stay on the right track. Shouldn’t every young person in that situation have the right to such help?

Meeting the boys today made me think of the boys I taught in Tanzania in 2007, some of whom were about the same age then as these boys are now. I wonder what became of them and where they are now.