We're in MOROCCO!

After being insufferable for weeks about our impending holiday (thanks patient friends for letting me go on at length) we're now here!

Last night I suffered a bit of a crisis of confidence, everything that had seemed exciting about visiting a strange, new and exotic country suddenly seemed rather scary. But fortunately this proved to be a symptom of an un-packed suitcase.

Thus morning was unlike any other travelling day, for a start I've never made last minute flares before  flight before. The morning also featured extensive tumble drying and an incongruous trip to Argos!

Fortunately we still made it to our parking (Newditch Farm, highly recommended) in time to get to the airport, return to the parking when Lew realised he'd forgotten his phone, and get back to the airport again.

The flight was uneventful, though waking us up an hour before we landed to give us entry forms seemed a little cruel.

At the airport we found the man holding the Riad Dar Asaad  sign and got into a nice minibus with a helpful driver who taught us how to pronounce a few words properly.

Had I been slightly more awake or better rested I might have realised sooner that he had taken us to the wrong hotel. Fortunately we realised before booking in. From what we could gather, the driver had been holding a sign for someone else. He'd whisked us away so quickly that we didn't check which of the two hotels he was sign-holding for was the destination.

After a lot of guilty feeling on my part and patience on the part of the driver (and calmness  on Lew's part) we arrived at the Riad.

Calm. Peaceful. Welcoming. Beautiful.

We were met with mint tea and delicious pastries, plus an extremely detailed tour of the city via map directions. The room is perfect and well situated.

We headed out into the city and the nighttime atmosphere of the main square. I'd read about it and been told about it but still it was like being transported into an exotic film. The streets towards the square were filled with shops (and cats) and they hummed with energy despite the fact that it was 10:30 at night.

We explored the square, paid too much for gifts and ordered more food than we could manage - the perfect start to our adventure!

Party

What are you doing on Wednesday night at 6:30? No, you can do that on Thursday. The correct answer is: listening to Party.

Last Wednesday night I went to see a recording of episode three and four of series three of Party, by Tom Basden for Radio 4. Now obviously I haven't heard the first episode, so I can't absolutely guarantee you that it's going to be as fantastic, funny and sharp as the second two episodes but I would put money on it. Quite a bit of money.

As I mentioned before, I have somehow managed to miss Party on Radio 4 so I bought series 2 from iTunes before going to the recording. I knew it was funny but I really wasn't expecting to be laughing almost constantly throughout the entire recording. Tom Basden is a really good writer. Not only are the episodes very funny but they're also just a single thirty-minute scene. And that's not only clever but also very impressive.

Earlier in the year I went to see Old Harry's Game and it was funny. I laughed. But Party is funny and I couldn't stop laughing. I know that I've highly recommended a lot of stuff in the past but Party is well worth listening to.

Oh, and you should know: when the third episode is aired, Jonny Sweet is actually eating Jacob's Cream Crackers. And he didn't even sneak a drink. Plus, Tim Key attempted the splits (though I'll be honest, the crackers were more impressive).

And, if you really are busy at 6:30 on Wednesday, then Party is going to be the Comedy of the Week Podcast. So you really have no excuse not to listen.

Radio: 1, Knitting: 1

Last night radio won a decisive victory over knitting when my wool and needles were confiscated by BBC security guards. Fortunately I remembered to retrieve them at the end of the night. I joined women who had brought a pair of scissors and two forks in the oddest ever walk of shame.

I had confidently insisted to my friend that we should aim to get to Portland Place for 6 and that we should expect a queue. We got there at 6 and there was no queue. In fact, we were let in immediately and took full advantage of the quite bar and our choice of seats in the cafe.

I'm not going to say anything on the subject of what the recording of Party was like because it really does deserve its own post.

So instead I shall end with this proof that the early bird both catches the worm and gets a latte too:

Radio 404: Not Found

I'm not sure how this keeps happening but it's time for another trip to London, this time it's thanks to a conference that should be both interesting and informative. It also happens to start at 9am which is far too early for me to travel up in the morning. One of my friends is in the same position so we'll be going up the night before because the alternative is a 04:30 start and still missing the first half hour of the conference, which is something that no one wants to see.

As you'd expect of me, I checked the BBC ticket site for recordings that evening. Most of September is already fully booked but there was one recording on the night that we'll be there: Party.

My brain did something a little unexpected and I got the mental equivalent of a radio 404 error. I've never heard of Party, that's odd. Is it new? Nope, it's the third series being recorded. Have I just got confused and is it actually The Party Line, The Party Party or one of the other political comedies with the word 'party' in their titles? Nope.

Now I don't claim to be an expert and I don't imagine that I've heard every radio comedy broadcast in the last few years. But I was a little surprised. I was even more surprised when I mentioned it to my friend and he said "The one where they're students? That's really funny! Well, I think it is. It's quite funny. I think."

I know I've written before about the difficulty of recommending comedies to other people but this is the first time I've been on the receiving end. The more we talked about going to the recording, the less certain my friend was about how funny Party really was. I've done exactly the same thing. There are a couple of things that I'm absolutely certain are funny and would insist that everyone should hear but there are all too many programmes that are obviously hilarious to me but are completely lost on others.

Fortunately, I have faith in my friend's taste (even though he doesn't get Bleak Expectations for some reason). So we've applied for tickets, received tickets and now we're taking a half day so we can travel up to London and get in the queue at a reasonable time. After complaining at the start of the year that I couldn't get to see the Now Show this will be my third recording of 2012. I feel more than a little greedy.

As I'm going to a recording, I thought it was only sensible to have some idea of what the plot is, so I've bought series two of Party from iTunes (Why not series 1? Ask iTunes). Fortunately, it turns out that my friend is right and it is funny. Really very funny.

Helympics

Turns out I was a bit too pessimistic about yesterday's Old Harry's Game recording:

128 meant I got to sit downstairs and - in one of the rare situations where going somewhere alone is an advantage - I got tacked on the end of a row a bit further up than the rest of the 120 - 150 sticker group. 

The staff organising the seating on Sunday were a bit clearer and more rigid in their queuing system but there was still no shortage of very polite, Radio 4 style loitering going on. Imagine 250 people in a small space, all of whom desperately want to get a good seat but not at the expense of being seen as pushy or getting in anyones way. Thank goodness for organised studio staff with microphones.

I hadn't thought before about the differences between seeing a sketch show and seeing a full half-hour comedy (or rather, two of them) but it was a very different experience. Is it ridiculous that I found myself wanting to shut my eyes and just listen? Considering I'd travelled to London specially, probably yes. But there's something odd about seeing the actors stepping out of scenes to sit down when they don't have lines for a while - however practical it is - that messes with my suspension of disbelief.

I think I have pretty good suspension of disbelief. I'm basically extremely gullible. Go on, try me, I'll believe just about anything up to a point. But, strong as my suspension of disbelief is, it's also extremely fragile and once that point is reached there's no going back. I can't enjoy certain parts of The Lord of the Rings films because I accidentally saw a bit of the extras that included footage of Fangorn Forest. Now my brain knows that it's a set so I see a set. This is why I never watch special features on DVDs. Ever.

Although I'm looking forward to hearing John Finnemore's Souvenir Programme broadcast (1. there's a whole other recording's worth that I've not heard; 2. I will finally get the insomnia song out of my head) I think I may be looking forward to Old Harry's Game more. Although I've heard the complete two episodes, which are broadcast Thursday 12th & 19th, I need to know whether I'll enjoy it for what it is or whether I've blown my suspension of disbelief entirely. If I have, it doesn't matter. It'll come back. Because I finally know what Jimmy Mulville looks like and he looks nothing like the Thomas I've got in my head.

Andy Hamilton closed the recording with a tribute to James Grout, who died this week. Brilliant as Annette Crosbie is, James Grout's voice was something else entirely. I think the whole audience felt privileged to give him the tribute of a round of applause.

Punctuality II

Once again I'm in the queue outside the BBC and once again I've got my timing wrong. Although I'm a good half hour earlier than yesterday, the queue is already back to the corner. I wonder just how early this queue starts.
Although I'm closer to the start, I think the queue is more densely packed so I'm going to predict sticker number 202. And a long line for the bar once we're in.

Things I Have Learned II

Things I've learned today:
1) if you want to go to a radio recording, go early
2) the radio theater is really quite big
3) John Finnemore has shoes that make his feet look long. Or long feet. Not sure which.
4) the Jubilee Line has travelators!
5) even in the age of ipads, radio scripts are still paper
6) when I tipsily said back in April that you should listen to John Finnemore's Souvenir Programme because it'd be funny, I was right. You should and it is.

Punctuality

As I type this on my irritatingly small phone keyboard, I'm looking out over a massive pit of BBC workstations at Broadcasting House. The canteen area in which audiences wait before radio recordings has a wall with glass windows and, no matter how often I've seen this sort of thing on TV, it's still weird to see it in real life. It's like the secret lair of a bond villain, complete with odd tracks just outside the window for equipment to go back and forth.

Why am I here? Because I was lucky enough to get tickets for the recording of John Finnemore's Souvenir Programme. Happy as I was to get that confirmation e-mail, it's got nothing on the relief I felt when I got a little sticker on my e-ticket 20 minutes ago.

The advice that the ticket unit gives you is: "admission on site 6.15, studio doors open from 7:15". What they don't tell you is that, of you turn up at 6.20, the queue will already be right the way round the corner of the building and the people all around you will already be joking about getting turned away in an "I'm not going to admit just how bothered I'll be if I'm turned away" sort of tone.

Fifteen nerve-racking minutes later and I was in.

I'm now in a very informal queue that seems to have formed just because a couple of people went to stand by the doors. I'm not sure that we even know that they're the right doors but no one is going to miss out on a good seat for the sake of a little extra queueing.

I don't know if things have just changed a lot since the last time I went to a recording or if this is the John Finnemore effect. I've seen one girl in a pilots jacket so I suspect the latter.

I Get It

Dear Messers Powell (GCSE English teacher) and Shakespeare (deceased),

I would like to publicly apologise for my 16 year old self and her inability to enjoy Henry V. I revoke any negative comments I may have made, specifically any statement that suggested that the play was "boring", "rubbish" or "not as fun as physics".

I realise that Henry V was rather wasted on Teenage Rebecca as, to a large extent, was the whole experience of going to the theatre.

Even in recent years I thought I got it, I really did. I've spent the last couple of months listening to Vivat Rex and I enjoyed the epic scope of it all and the intricate inter-weaving of agendas. I like going to the theatre and I like seeing or hearing Shakespeare plays.

But last night I saw Henry V at the Globe and I really do get it now: it's not about understanding the play, you're actually allowed to enjoy it. And, once you really enjoy it, you can get completely lost in it.

I realise this is something I probably should have understood by now but this is the first time I've come out of a Shakespeare play feeling, not only entertained, but moved, involved, caught up and transported.

I have never described a play as awesome before but that's about the only word I can think to use at this point. Even Teenage Rebecca might be able to relate to that.

Yours sincerely,

Rebecca (ex narrow-minded teenager)

Highlights

Possibly my new favourite station announcement (because we've all got one, right): "the train now arriving into the very centre of platform nine is the..."

Now, tell me I'm not the only one picturing trains with vertical take-off.

At lunch time today, two people asked me for directions. Not only was one of them not even foreign but I actually knew how to direct them! Somehow my new hair seems to have disguised me as a Londoner.

The Benefits of Disorganisation

I wouldn't describe myself as a disorganised person. Anyone that has seen my desk would disagree. But I like to think that I take a normal amount of organisation and apply it in concentrated doses where it counts. Usually my work. 

Unfortunately that tends to leave a trail of chaos at home and a misty atmosphere of vagueness about what I'll be doing at any given time. 

Usually this isn't a problem but today I discovered that I've accidentally been counting one weekend in June twice. On the 23rd I will be camping. And on the weekend before the week of the 25th, I'm going to London. Camping, in case you are wondering, will not be in London.

Fortunately, this revelation was preceded by the far more pleasant discovery that tickets for John Finnemore's Souvenir Programme have gone up on the ticket unit site today, with dates on the 7th and 14th of July.

This is the first day I've not checked July's page since I added the ticket unit to my open-every-day tabs in the desperate hope of seeing a radio recording. So it came as something of an unexpected surprise, as did the fact that there's an Olympics specail of Old Harry's Game recording on the 8th of July. I've been a fan of Old Harry's Game for long enough that I have a cassette version of the first series. That's at least two audio formats ago.

So. Not only have I double booked myself on opposite sides of the country, I have also been too disorganised to get a hotel in London for the 23rd/24th. In addition, I have no adventurous evenings booked for that weekend. On the other hand, there is now a weekend in July that contains John Finnemore's Souvenir Programme on Saturday and Old Harry's Game on a Sunday. Plus I get to go camping.

I think the choice is obvious. 

Oh, and if anyone knows whether the BBC Ticket Unit are susceptible to any forms of bribery, please let me know.

Random != Fair

Or, if you prefer, Random <> Fair. Select your notation of choice.

Anyone who knows me (or, in fact, anyone who has investigated my Adventures tag) will know that I went to London in April despite the fact that the training course I was supposed to be on got cancelled. Well, it's now been rescheduled for late June so my attempt to book an unrealistic number of things to do in London has begun once again.

For years I've been wanting to go to the Globe but I keep ending up in London during the winter. This time's different so I've booked a ticket to Henry V (see previous ramblings about Henry V). And I've even rented a cushion, which seemed the sensible thing to do.

Excited as I am about going to the Globe, that's just one night out of a whole week so I've been watching the BBC ticket unit like a hawk in the hopes that something might come up. When the Now Show appeared a few weeks back I jumped on the chance for tickets. Unfortunately, it's a random draw for tickets and it's pretty clear now - two weeks after the draw - that I don't have a ticket.

Now this isn't going to be a massive whinging rant. I've seen the Now Show twice before (2002/3ish) so I can't complain too much. I also know that a straight first-come-first-served on tickets isn't fair because something like The Now Show is going to sell out in no time. But I also know that if I lived in London, I'd be putting in for every single ticket opportunity that came up.

Okay, so a "This is the first chance I've had to see a radio show in ten years, please give me preference" check box might be a bit too much to hope for. But a random draw gives everyone the same chance at getting tickets, regardless of the chance they have to actually attend a show.

I don't have a solution to this. I'm not suggesting that a first-come-first-served process would be better. I just wish that I was seeing the Now Show.

Loop

When knitters go to new places, either on holiday or just to a meeting somewhere exotic (Birmingham too), the first question that comes up is "are there any wool shops?" When I said I'd be going to London, the response was almost unanimous: "ooo, Loop"

One of the surprising things about London is its short supply of yarn shops. I've added a special "yarn" search to my places app and it keeps coming up empty. But Loop is probably the most prominent knitting destination in London and I can't quite believe it took me two days to realise that it's just up the street from where I've been staying.

After a bit of getting lost that resulted in me buying two books in Waterstones, I found Loop tucked into a little alley-way. At first glance it looks likes small but eclectic shop but it turns out that the downstairs houses only laceweight, 4ply and (first time I've seen it in England) sport weight. Upstairs there's a lovely selection of heavier yarns and a range of books and leaflets that eclipsed anything I've seen before. And they gave me a canvas bag inside a plastic bag so my stuff wouldn't get rained on. Lovely people!

Calling Loop a knitting destination sounds a little like a marketing line and it is, a little. But comparing it to most knitting shops is also unfair. Like most modern shops they run classes and offer great helpful advice but this is also a shop that has its own pattern book and that slight air of exclusivity is also apparent.

In my little town, knitting shops serve one purpose: they sell cheap wool to fairly uncreative knitters (lots of acrylic, lots of baby sets). Get Knitted in Bristol has a foot in both camps: they stock some fabulous small-scale yarn for addicts plus enough mainstream acrylic to satisfy traditionalists. As I walked into Loop I felt that they may as well have set up security detectors to alert them to any attempts by man-made fibres to gain a foothold in the shop.

And that's great, Loop is very definitely serving a different need to my local shops. Different and, without a doubt, more affluent. At one point I found myself lovingly stroking some cascade 220 as I realised it was almost twice what I'd pay in Bristol.

So, onto what I bought (pictures will have to follow, phone camera in a cafe doesn't do it justice). I fell in love with some breath-taking Yarn Collage in rich browns with silk and sequins woven in but I convinced myself that it wasn't really justified when I've not done anything with my Pixie Dust yet. So instead I bought two skeins of THE softest chunky alpaca that I've ever felt. Walking back from the udderbelly last night I was dreaming of a scarf/hood that would warm my neck and ears, so I think it'll be that. I also bought a German stitch dictionary with some of the most unusual lace patterns I've ever come across. Logically, this can only help me make more stuff. Therefore it can only result in a smaller stash. Therefore, I deserve more yarn. Scientifically proven.

Udderbelly

Yup, giant purple upside down cow. Plus cider. Plus blue-cheese burger. I could get used to London.

Things I Have Learned

Things I've learned today:

1) never eat a cake just because you can't quite believe it exists. It required a fork and left me feeling a bit odd.

2) just because something has the same name as somewhere you're looking for, it doesn't mean it's close.

3) the British Library is a bit intimidating when it is empty.

4) the British Museum is very busy when it's raining.

5) there's a feeling you get when you buy new clothes, change into them and come out feeling like you should be on the run in a blonde wig with the evidence to expose a government conspiracy in your pocket. This feeling is sadly reduced when your quick-change involves swaping one brown jacket for another.

6) if you spend all day walking round London, you will get back and realise that you're really quite tired. You will not feel much like going out in the evening. You will be particularly dismayed to discover that the thing you're going to doesn't start until 9pm.

7) on certain phones, taking screenshots and saving pictures of the route you have walked are equally impossible.

I also met a lovely, lost Japanese lady who was looking for the British Museum. Apparently it's her first time in England and she'll be spending three nights here before going on to Loughborough. There's no way that's not going to be an anti-climax.

Also: whatever you're doing, whatever you're thinking of doing, disapproving head disapproves.

Manuscript in the Shape of a Tortoise

Yes, at the British Library you can see a manuscript in the shape of a tortoise. I think that people might be a little happier if more everyday items were in the shape of a tortoise.

They also have a display on maps that I haven't got close to yet because there is a large complaint of students learning about projection.

So I am sitting in the cafe contemplating how I'm going to eat the front-runner in the "most ludicrous food of this holiday" prize: a cake that is actually taller than my coffee.

Snuffbox

I'm not sure what is more impressive: the fact that this is actually a teeny tiny mosaic or the fact that it features a polar bear apparently about to get into a fight with a dog over an apple.

A Knitting Group of One

If you knit in the V&A cafe, does it automatically become a study of the textile arts?

Rewards

I've just been to a student art show, something I never did when I actually was a student. Art is something i've had little to do with but there were several things there that I really enjoyed. Thee were also a lot of people.

Recap time: a few months ago I discovered Kickstarter and on a whim I typed in knitting. What I found was a Bonnie Kate's Knitting the World project. She was looking for funding so she could buy yarn to knit a 7ft map of the world, highlighting the best areas for support of the arts.

Kickstarter is pretty great, I've only supported four projects so far but there will be more, I'm certain. If you've not use kickstarter before, the concept is simple: give people money so they can do their art/design/music/technology and, in return, get stuff!

For obvious reasons, the stuff is often digital. There are a lot of e-book rewards, mp3s and things that don't involve the trials and tribulations of international postage. For the map project, I'm getting a digital photo of the map, a special stitch in the location of my choice a new hat pattern. 85 people supported the project but I think I got one of he best rewards of all - I got to actually see the map and the little stitch that was there because of me (covering most of south west England).

Don't get me wrong, i'm all for digital rewards. But there's something pleasing about actually seeing the thing you helped to fund. To see and touch it. She's used some really lovely yarn. I'm going to continue supporting projects with digital rewards but I'm happy that, this time, I got to see the final finished, impressive product.

I met Bonnie Kate (as friendly and ebullient in real life as she's been in her update videos) and her mother (clearly extremely proud of her daughter). Also I learned that the map has already been sold to a man whose two great loves are knitting and maps. You've got to love the power of the internet.

An Appropriate Degree of Restraint

In a shock development, I have successfully managed to go 24 hours in London without buying yarn. 24 hours and 10 minutes to be precise.

I've seen recycled sari silk yarn before and I've always loved the soft, uneven texture with its haywire little filaments. The bright colours are eye-catching and lovely but I've always known I'd never find a use for it. Until now.

Yes, that is black sari silk yarn. Yes, I know it's supposed to be colourful. Yes, it does look quite a lot like a spider. And yes, I probably will make it into a scarf. I still think it's fantastic.
I'm writing this while getting ready to go out and see Bonnie Kate's 7ft knitted map of the world. So, hopefully, poor quality smartphone photos will follow later.