A weekend in Gothenburg

Monday, 27 November 2017

This year has been a pretty good one for cheap travel. I've got a sharp eye when it comes to the Ryanair sales, and one of the few benefits of a zero-hours work schedule is some occasional flexibility - so I've made the most of it whilst I still can. A couple of weeks ago, I headed off on a long-awaited trip with five old school friends. We haven't been away together since a post-A-levels trip to Majorca which was less about culture and more about drinking and sunbathing. Several years later, we still managed to get in a bit of alcohol - mainly in the form of Glühwein - but we were a little more imaginative when it came to our activities!

The weekend was largely food-based. We visited the small shops around the Kronhuset, sampling chocolate (great), liquorice (not so much) and salmiak (definitely not for us). We ate meatballs and lingonberry jam in the Saluhallen, were given free hot waffles by a visiting church, and picked up local Swedish cheese to eat back at the apartment. We headed to Barn for great cocktails and fantastic burgers, and overloaded on cheap churros at the Christmas markets. We got giant head-sized cinnamon buns and Swedish cheese pie at Cafe Husaren. I stayed an extra day and had amazing Italian food at Hotel Bellora (who also offer a breakfast buffet that dreams are made of; the full works). In between all the eating, we took a trip out tVrångö, the most southerly island in the Gothenburg archipelago, to wander around the island and plan our moves to Sweden; rode the wooden rollercoaster at Liseberg amusement park, complete with awful mid-scream photographs; sweated it out in the mini rainforest and sat mesmerised by the aquarium at Universeum; and walked for miles around Slottsskogen park in the snow and sunshine. I didn't tick off any of my museums, but that's all the reason to go back - I'm planning for the summer.


Can Graphic Design Save Your Life?

Thursday, 19 October 2017


Over the last few of months, my seven-day-a-week research and writing schedule didn't leave me a lot of time for other things, especially not extra trips into London for exhibitions. After the final hand in for my Master's degree, I headed straight out to visit my mum in Mauritius, and after that had a whole (slightly jetlagged) four days before diving straight into work on a research project. Most of those were spent doing life admin, but I also sneaked in a trip to the Wellcome Collection to see their new exhibition: Can Graphic Design Save Your Life?

Split over six sections (persuasion, education, hospitalisation, medication, contagion and provocation), the show examines the often overlooked sphere of design related to health: the information campaigns, wayfinding design, medication packaging and a whole host of other graphics. It's something which I've thought about a little more since starting to collect matchbox labels, which very often were used to communicate health related information (or flat out propaganda). My favourite objects were the vintage anti-smoking stamps, issued from 65 countries so far; the Catoptrum Microcosmicum from 1660, featuring hinged paper layers showing human anatomy; the New Rail Alphabet typeface developed from Margaret Calvert's original and used first in the NHS; Yin Yao's pain visualisation research; and 19th century broadsheets warning of the cholera epidemic. It's really a treasure trove of amazing design objects, many of which you'd probably never notice in day to day life but are essential - like the 'battenberg emergency' pattern on ambulances, or the familiar prescription bags from Boots. Another cracker from the Wellcome Collection, and it's free! If you can't get to the exhibition before January, you can see highlights, and even download the information about the exhibits, on the website.

FIND 'CAN GRAPHIC DESIGN SAVE YOUR LIFE?' AT: Wellcome Collection, 183 Euston Road, London NW1 2BE

Some of my health-related matchbox labels!

Post-apocalyptic & Dystopian Reads #7

Wednesday, 19 July 2017

THE LONG TOMORROW
Leigh Brackett
Following the atrocities of nuclear war, the American people have taken to blaming technology itself for the devastation and have retreated into the pre-technological world, banning large towns and cities in an attempt to prevent further wars. Religious groups less reliant on modern technology have flourished, and are now dominant in society: it is one of these groups that Len and Esau come from. The boys push back at their strictly controlled society, and end up in Bartorstown, a semi-mythical hub of forbidden technology; soon they learn that it's not quite what they thought it was. This isn't a book which is lacking in characterisation - it's slow and considered (occasionally too much for my liking - I didn't warm to either Len or Esau much!), though if you're looking for women, you won't find them. It took me a while to wade through the religion, but it's worth it for an interesting coming-of-age story with a starkly realistic thread of disillusionment.
★★★

LOGAN'S RUN
William F. Nolan & George Clayton Johnson
In the world created by Nolan and Johnson, society is entirely made up of young people: the population is controlled by compulsory, yet almost universally accepted, euthanasia for citizens once they reach the age of twenty one. Most citizens willingly turn up to the 'Sleepshops' to be executed, but occasionally some try to escape - and it's Logan's job to hunt them down, until he becomes one of them himself. The novel isn't fantastically thought out in terms of logistics; a lot of questions are left unanswered, and some of the answers we are given just don't make a whole lot of sense. The book is short, and so the story unfolds at a blistering pace in some areas, which leaves some elements feeling underdeveloped. However - I really enjoyed it anyway. For its flaws, the world created is vivid and intriguing, and despite its messiness, it was just fun.
★★★

FAHRENHEIT 451
Ray Bradbury
Another classic in the dystopian world, which I'm surprised I didn't pick up until recently. Fahrenheit 451 deals with a world where books are banned, and the ban enforced by 'firemen', whose job is no longer to prevent fires but to start them in order to burn the possessions of those caught reading. But what happens when a fireman himself is overcome with curiosity? I was torn about this book. I see people referencing it when they want to complain that 'modern society is so vapid, no one reads books!' (untrue and infuriating) and this made me stubbornly keen to dislike it. And yes, Bradbury is pretty much yelling 'television will ruin your mind!' He's gone on to emphasise this perspective in interviews; it's not the government censorship which killed books, he says, but the fact that everyone got distracted by technology! It's a common fear, but one which is clearly unfounded. Saying that, Bradbury does have a way with words - despite my problems with the premise, the reading was enjoyable.
★★

WOOL
Hugh Howey
By now I've read a lot of this genre, so it's not often I come across a new work which has an original perspective: in Wool, Howey has it. His story is set in the Silo, a huge underground bunker descending nearly a hundred and fifty storeys below the surface of the earth, now a toxic wasteland entirely hostile to life. The thousands in the silo are born, live and die underground, their population controlled by a reproduction lottery and their curiosity about the outside world suppressed by strict laws and the preachings of the silo's priests. Crime is infrequent, but severely punished. The most severe infractions result in being sent to 'cleaning' - being made to clean the sensors which transmit the view of the inhospitable world outside to the residents of the silo, and being left to succumb to the poisonous gases. Starting off as a short, self-published story, the novel expanded as readers showed interest, and does sometimes feel a little long-winded. However, Howey creates a really compelling mystery to the dark(er) reality of the silo, and I'm looking forward to see where it goes.
★★

NOD
Adrian Barnes
Barnes tells a story of chronic sleep deprivation; a world suddenly separated into the Awakened, permanently sleepless, and Dreamers, who retain their ability to rest. Misanthropic Paul, our protagonist, is one of the Dreamers, and quickly finds out just how dangerous the new world can be for him, unless he finds a way to fit in to the new order of chaos. It's, perhaps understandably, a fairly grim read. I was expecting to really enjoy this novel, but none of it came together for me. I'd already read Kenneth Calhoun's Black Moon, another novel whose premise lies in sleeplessness (published after this one) and whilst Barnes takes his novel in a different direction, I felt it was nowhere near as successful. Barnes got a lot of praise for his experimental style, and some of it really works, but it also feels like the storyline development took a backseat. In an interview, Barnes said that he would 'invent people and places that are bizarre' and 'try to force them' into the novel -  and that's exactly what it feels like; forced.


See all my reviews of Post-Apocalyptic & Dystopian Reads here!

Summer in Suffolk

Saturday, 15 July 2017



After getting back from Canada and dealing with my first ever bout of jet lag combined with London's sticky hot weather and research fatigue, a couple of days of sea air were exactly the right remedy to blow out some of the cobwebs. Danny's mum and stepdad had rented a little cottage by the sea in the pretty town of Aldeburgh, Suffolk, and we joined them for a night by the coast. We arrived in the morning - with a detour via the shop at Alder Carr Farm to pick up a pint of their home made damson plum ice cream - and after breakfast headed straight out for a walk across the flats to the beach. Both of the dogs managed to mistake a weed-covered river for grass, and each got a surprise ducking when they tried to run across it; Angel managed it twice! Last time we took Angel to the beach was her first ever visit and she wasn't off the lead yet, but this time she had a blast fighting the waves, chasing pebbles (she lost her ball in the aforementioned ducking) and being stopped from drinking salt water. We took a walk along the coast and then back through the town, where Angel had her first doggy ice cream cone (in one bite), and back for a relax at the cottage before heading out for some dinner at The Lighthouse. Aldeburgh is beautiful, full of grand period houses and cute pastel coloured cottages. It's also very dog friendly - nearly every shop has a bowl of water outside, there's plenty of pubs and restaurants which allow dogs in their outdoor areas (including The Lighthouse) and whilst the beach in front of the town is dog free May-September, they're allowed on the beaches either side as well as the main promenade.

The next morning we packed up and headed up the coast to nearby Southwold, another very pretty town with sandy beaches and a lighthouse. We played on the beach and picked out which we'd have from the line of candy-striped beach huts before walking up into the town, but unfortunately the rest of our visit didn't go entirely to plan! A huge thunderstorm rolled in right over our heads, complete with fork lightning, and our thunder-terrified dog went into meltdown mode. We ended up back in the car having to restrain her from climbing onto the dashboard. All was not lost, however, as we drove out of Southwold back into bright sunshine and picked up strawberries from a local farm to eat with my homemade brownies and damson ice cream for lunch. The three of us were pretty sad when the time came to pack up the car and head back to London!







Kew Gardens, London

Monday, 3 July 2017

Despite the District line being 'my line' for all the years I've lived in London, I've been pretty contained to East London in that time, barring my regular visits to the museum quarter in South Kensington. I'd made a single venture to Acton Town to see the London Transport Museum's Depot, but that was as far as I'd got. Kew Gardens was always on 'the list', but it's a full two hours from where I live now and therefore relegated to the 'special occasion' list. Conveniently, it was recently Ainsley's birthday and so we took ourselves down for the day.


For some reason I hadn't realised quite how huge Kew is: we had a few hours to kill, but it was nowhere near enough time to take everything in properly. We started off with a pretty decent picnic on the lawn in front of Kew Palace, fending off a pair of ducks keen for our sandwiches, and then headed in for a look at the rooms. We admired the second floor's pastel pink paintwork, and some of the grander restored rooms, but the attic was my favourite part of the house despite being largely empty. We caught the formal gardens behind the Palace just in time; the much-photographed yellow laburnum arch was still just about in full bloom, buzzing with bees and giving off an amazing scent. The Royal Kitchens were surprising - the double height space is unexpectedly vast, and still holds the original wooden table from 1737 and giant fireplace with spits for roasting meats. It's lovely seeing the kitchen garden in full use, growing common eighteenth century plants (I spotted some redcurrants, and my favourite, rhubarb.)

From the kitchens, we made a loop round to the Rhododendron Dell, which was finishing flowering but still beautiful - it includes many varieties which I've never seen before (and my nan is quite a rhododendron buff). We sat at the lake for a while, eating the vegan Victoria sponge cake I made and promptly smashed by accident, Eton mess-style, keeping an eye out for ducklings. The giant Temperate House, the largest surviving Victorian greenhouse, is currently closed until 2018 for renovation, so we had a look at it through the gaps in the trees from the Treetop Walkway sitting sixty feet into the canopy. 

The final part of the day we spent in the glasshouses: everyone's favourites, the giant Palm House and humid Waterlily House, were first up. We were seriously overdressed for the occasion, but it was just as magical as it looks on Instagram. Fun fact: the water in the Waterlily House is coloured with eco-friendly black dye to prevent algae growth, which is why it's so reflective! After that, we managed to cram in the Princess of Wales Conservatory, filled with cacti and carnivorous plants, as well as the little sail-shaped Davies Alpine House and rock gardens. At this point, we were pretty much being herded out, but The Hive was still open. If you catch the installation at a quiet moment (or aren't afraid of embarrassment or being trodden on), lie down on the floor underneath the opening in the top and spend a few minutes really listening to the sounds and lights. The sounds and lights are linked to the activity of real bees in Kew's hive, and it's a really lovely experience. I'm itching to go and see it at night (as well as catch up with the rest of the Kew attractions that we didn't have time for!)