A trip on the London Eye!

In me time in this fair city I seen a few sights alright...

A thousand faces passing by, buildings old and new touching the sky, parks of green, clouds of grey, overcoats and umbrellas, chain store coffee and cocktail bars... monsoon rain, autumnal leaves and humid sunshine...

Ok, ok, I'll stop now.

The best thing about the London Eye is you forget all that. Rising above the city you forget the complexities, the rush, the grind. Instead you see a beautifully intricate land sprawling beneath you, like its a load of lego pieces clipped together. Up there, from the sky, London looks like an artwork, like a model of a city...














Of course before you even get on you have to make it into your capsule. Not the easiest of tasks, I maintain, for they are moving at the time, and the Scribbler can be a clumsy fellow.














Then you've also got to look out for the shifty types hanging around at the sides...

Apologies Dad... you do look shifty in this snap though..!














There's always that thing when you're on a tourist attraction that you want to prove you were there somehow. Just like everyone else, us Scribblers dashed around getting pictures of ourselves from every which angle we could.

The real attraction on the Eye isn't the capsules that slowly float around... it's the city you look out onto that provides the backdrop to your snaps... and here's Eddie proving just that..!














A model boat..? Or maybe a lego one...















I thoroughly recommend the view from London's Eye. It ain't a bad city after all.

Even when you return to the thousand faces, the sweaty tube, sweet wrappers and scrap newspapers, Scientology booths... it's all part of the same thing after all. London. It is what it is!

The Scribbler brothers - watching Jackie Chan...

Here are me brothers, happily relaxing (Ady so much that he's fallen asleep) watching the Jackie Chan film Wheels on Meals!

These were the days (only 2 weeks ago) before Ady got a job at Dyson (big up to him!) and Edwin returned to college after half term... they came to London, watched some 'Chan,' went up the London Eye (more about that tomorrow by the way) and somehow managed to come back down again!














If there's one time Edwin's not going to fall asleep, it's during a Jackie Chan movie. When we were young, there were just a few things the three of us liked. One was Mr Bean. The other was Sonic the Hedgehog... and the third (we were probably a bit too young as well) was Jackie Chan and his foolhardy jumps of anything that looked dangerous.

If you've never seen a 'Chan' film, I recommend Project A and Wheels on Meals. Can't beat them.

Lifesnaps # 27 People!

The only time you see smiles like these from the VEE-TV team is after a couple of beers..!














Normally life at VEE-TV's like this - every afternoon, Sam has an identity crisis...














While at home, George loses his job and gets a paper round...















No comment on this one... er, we were still in the pub...














And presumably on a hangover, Sam prepares to smash a guitar but keep his eyes safe by wearing a nice, bright blue pair of goggles... in broad daylight...

Lifesnaps # 26

The Scribbler lands in Bollywood!

Bollywood weddings have nothing on this! This is last Sunday's union between two of my old university friends, Farhana and James. Congrats to them both!

I still remember when Farhana first met James when we were at Nottingham Trent University, when we were doing our best to not actually study for a Politics degree. She’d met this nice guy she got all coy about... well, as coy as Farhana ever gets..! (not very!)

They became an item, he went through a muscle man stage (don’t know why that’s relevant but it sticks in the memory even now) then calmed down again!














They stuck together after uni, living in Lincoln after Nottingham. As with so many friends, you hear about them but you don't see them for a while.

Then one day, just a few weeks ago I got an invite in the post. I acknowledge that people my age do get married, but it still shocks me to find out they’re doing it! I came to terms with the shock in time...
And so it was that last Sunday I trekked up to Leicester to find all the old university faces waiting for me on my arrival! Haps, Ben, Paul & Pippa, Lisa & Rich, Sheelah. I had flashbacks to hundreds of nights out on the town in Nottingham – although we were somewhat more sober this time around!














One of my abiding memories is of silly string being sprayed everywhere after they’d said their vows! And of a million people coming up to shake their hands and greet them in married life - and get their photos taken with the happy couple!














All the best to them both – I’m incredibly jealous actually because they’ve just flown to the Maldives..! Have a great one, guys!

Lifesnaps # 25

77 days to go! The draft best man's speech!

This rather well-attired chap is the man who chose the Scribbler for a best man. Not many people would, but he took the plunge. I have known him for roughly 12 years, give or take a month or 6.

In that time, he's grown roughly a foot and a half (he was practically an elf when I first met him!) and turned into a handsome chap who first ensnared a beauty named Laura, then romanced her solidly for 5 years, then popped the question. Good on him!

Steve's been getting all organised of late, so once again, my thoughts have turned to my speech. This is what I've got so far. Let me know what you think...

Draft best man's speech # 1

Me ezteemed mellow humans. Let moi prezent to ya one of me all-time me bestest chumrades in the 'ole univerze. Iz name is Steven Brown, but I knows him by the nixname 'Superbuddy!'

We met when I waz only twelve, and tried to conker the leeetle cotswold town hwere we waz part of clay-pigeon shooting gangz. Eveyone waz skared of uz.

Steve waz a hard man. During ganz warfayre one days, we killed 16 clay pigeons. He killed 12 of them 'imself. But he had a soft side two. He resuciated 7 of 'em, and they is liviung a happy, but very still, life now.

Steve waz a ladeez man. All the ladeez wantd to kissed him all the time. Young or oldies, they all 'ell for iz charms. He knews how to chat 'em up. He taught me's too, so he did.

And for 'hat, I will bees truly grateful alwayz.

'hanks Steve. Raize your glasses, peple!

Underground Moments...

I've been darting around on the tube rather a lot over the past couple of days, so you'll have to forgive me for rambling about it on the blog too..!

It's just that there's been a few moments on the underground I wanted to tell ya about...

First off I bumped into my brother's godfather's nephew (bit of a mouthful that one) yesterday on my way to Old Street. Barely recognised him in a hat, the other side of the carriage. I ended up holding a coversation from one side of the carriage to the other, with about 30 people in between.

That's one thing about the tube, no-one else was speaking to each other, so it was deadly silent in there! I was carrying camera equipment and had to dash off in the end, without even being able to offer a handshake, but it was cool all the same.

Secondly - well actually, this happened before I bumped into my brother's godfather's nephew (!) I was navigating my way to the Northern Line when I heard the most beautiful rendition of The Beatles' song Here Comes the Sun deep in the underground tunnels of Waterloo.

The sound grew louder as I approached, and somehow the echo of the corridors just made the song fuller, like the notes were swirling around and adding to each other. The sun was shining above ground, and for a second it felt like it was shining below ground too. The guy was finger plucking away and had a huge sign saying 'SMILE!' so I did and gave him 10p for his trouble..!

Then this morning I was reminded of another thing I really like. It's when you get to the underground and you've got a 2 minute wait for the train. Everyone stands there on the platform, waiting, browsing through the newspaper, some chatting (if they know each other, this is London, people).

It often strikes me that these 2 minutes are free time, time when you're not squeezed into a carriage, or trying to dash up some stairs or through crowded streets. For those two minutes, time stands still as I wait, and think about my day.

Before a light comes from the end of the tunnel. People inch nearer to the platform edge, and the motorised whirr and clank of the tube comes clattering past. Then it all starts up again. The machine, the city.

Lifesnaps # 24

Lifensnaps # 23 - Stevie Brown plays Camden!

When Gran stole Eddie's pint... a true story!

It's not what you expect is it?

I'd always thought of Grandma as a lady of standards. She's always good for advice - how to wash your whites, cook your dinner (stew and mash, gorgeous) and avoid drinking too much at parties ("don't drink at all" she says). Then this happens.

Eddie's not a big drinker by any means, but he likes his half pints, he does. So there we were, sitting in the Navigation Inn, Derbyshire, enjoying a leisurely Sunday afternoon, when his beer slowly sinks from his glass.

Every time he looks at it, there's less there. Soon he has to order another one. But he's barely had a sip.

Funnily enough, around the same time, Grandma was getting perky. I wouldn't say tipsy, more merry than anything else. She was having a good time, it seemed. And in a flash, and only a flash, all was revealed. She'd beeen secretly, and covertly, sinking Edwin's ale. Harsh stuff for her grandson, but you could say she was looking after his best interests, if not her own...

We were all shocked - but she seemed to be having a great time.

I got on the train at 5pm that afternoon, back to the big smoke. Apparently they had an amazing night after I left. That's one thing about my Gran, she knows how to party. And to down an ale or two..!

Mystery Blonde the third.... with flatmate!

Should the new 101 emergency number be put in Room 101?

A new emergency number has been launched, not to replace 999, which we all know (and love?) so well, but rather to run alongside it.

It's not a free number, oh no. It's for people who have a semi-emergency, something they need to solve urgently but which isn't the responsibility of the emergency services. The new number is 101.

It's been launched because so many batty people have been phoning 999 for supposed 'emergencies' which are nothing of the sort. A cat up a tree, a pigeon in a chimney, a lost remote control... that kind of thing. Apparently, 70% of calls to 999 are for non-emergencies. So you'd think that the new number is a pretty good idea. The Scribbler, however, is not so sure...

Surely if you're intelligent enough, indeed diligent enough, to keep two numbers in your head and know that you should call 101 rather than 999, then you're the kind of person who wouldn't be dim enough to call 999 for a non-emergency in the first place.

I predict that the kind of people who called 999 unneccessarily in the past will do the same now. They're just those kind of people...

Am I wrong? Am I? Answers on a postcard, please...

Lifesnaps # 22 - Nottingham...!

Lifesnaps # 21 - early morning view from a Nottingham window

An all nighter on the train! Ringo's tale

My friend Ringo* has been telling me about his nightmare night onthe trains... even as he was telling me, I was compelled to think that this sorry tale would make good blog, so, people, here it is!

After work he and a few work colleagues went for a beer in a Waterloo pub - Ringo's deaf and as always, the deaf crowd ended up having a good old hand natter, which stretched on through the night!

Soon, one drink had turned into six! Before he knew it the night had rushed by, and Ringo ended up rushing to Waterloo, then on the Northern Line to Euston - just, and only just - getting to Euston in time to get his overland train to Harrow and Wealdstone, where he's crashing with a friend, an impatient friend by this time...

Relived was he to be on his train, so relieved in fact, that he decided to take a brief nap, waking up as the stops went by.

The next thing Ringo remembers is being woken up by a guard... apparently it had taken the guard a while, since he looked really anooyed by the time he woke. Ringo couldn't understand a word the guard was saying. The guard became more and more agitated. It was at this point that Ringo caught sight of the sign.

It read Northampton.

Next scheduled train back to London? 4.30. Within minutes Ringo was being bundled out of the train station, the doors locked behind him by the guard. By now one drink in the pub had turned into an all-night journey up and down Britain's rail network.

To try and pass the time, Ringo ventured into Northampton town centre to try and find some food. Settling on a Turkish Kebab joint, Ringo explained his story to the owner, who burst out laughing. The joviality did not last long, however, as group of foul-mouthed chavs (Ringo's description) soon came in, making him more than a little nervous with a few bitter, prolonged stares. He decided to leave.

























Venturing back to the train station he found it was 4.15. The joy!

Fifteen minutes later, he ventured onto the train, relived to get some rest at last, Ringo found himself on comfortable chairs, with a warmly heated carriage giving him respite from the cold... You can guess what happens next...

He falls asleep again. And wakes, eyes half open, to find himself looking at the sign for Harrow and Wealdstone. What luck! Yay! Ringo jumps up and bolts for the door -

But they close. In his face. The train speeds on. To Wembley.

Details get patchy here, but Ringo ended up getting a bus (somehow, because he doesn't understand the bus system) which twisted its way to Harrow and Wealdstone in time for him to get to sleep. By this time, it was nearly 7am. An hour after settling into a warm bed at the end of a night which started with only the promise of a solitary cold pint, his alarm clock goes off. It's 8am.

Shattered, he comes to work. He's s currently sitting at the desk next to me in the office. Hands touching the keyboard, head bowed. His eyes are flcikering, his head nodding. He's likely to be asleep very shortly. Hope no one realises.

The moral of the tale? When out for one drink, keep it that way!

* name has been changed to protect reputation.

Lifesnaps 20 - The Swinbourne's in Academia..!

THE SCRIBBLER IS BACK!!!!

I IS BACK!!!! From where, I can't say, but I am back all the same!!!!

With the veil of secrecy that has been drawn over my recent activities, you'd be forgiven for thinking the Scribbler has become a secret agent, a superhero, or just scribble-obsessed. Which is half-true, actually when you think about it. On all three counts..!

But still, returning to my original point, I've been away. In the UK? No. But in the country that's probably generating the most positive headlines in the world right now - EVERYTHING'S happening there. Which is why I went, really!

I've had an amazing time. I've been in dangerous places, exciting places, unique places. I've met amazing people. I've swam the sea, by day and night. I sweated, also day and night. You probably don't need to know this. I've worked my sorry ass off. Literally. My body's sore, my mind sapped. I'm home, and there's something great about that.

One day I'll be able to tell you all about it, but before that, can I just say something.

Sorry for my absence. I'm gonna make it up to you. I promise! Every day, believe me.

It'll be like I've never been.... er. Somewhere. Amazing.