These are just a few of the many historic events that have occurred since England last beat Australia at Lords 75 years ago. I have course not been waiting for that long but it hasn't stopped me enjoying it nonetheless. Everyone, including myself, did give themselves a little freak out. Looking back it was ridiculous to panic, thinking that we were going to lose, when we still had a lead of over 200; but such is the paranoia of an ashes series.
Since the next game isn't for a few days I have been forced out, blinking and shielding my eyes, into the daylight. We spent a lovely day on Tuesday destroying some of John's dearest child hood memories. Catherine has a new car and wanted to play with it so John suggested a trip to the seaside town of Broadstairs. John remembers playing with great glee and childish abandon on the glistening white sands of the Kentish Riveria but within ten minutes everyone came to the conclusion that it was shit. I think the problem was that it was too nice, it was small and lacked the usual tat and urban decay of the English seaside. This was soon rectified by the short drive to Margate, the very definition of decay. It's one of those towns that would just benefit from being knocked down and just starting again. The place seriously needs some love. It's sad to see everything boarded up, even the big arcades have closed, and right in the middle is Dreamland. Dreamland was a theme park that was closed for being unsafe which came as a surprise to no one. The fear was generated not from the rides but from wondering if this was the ride when those rusty supports would finally give up.
Other than that I have been trying to sort out getting to Pamplona. So far the plan is to fly to Bilbao and get the bus as flying to Pamplona direct is far too expensive. I've been told its easy but the Spanish bus website seems to be on a permanent siesta, much like myself. Once I have negotiated that I will feel a lot better. I have filled out a questionnaire about what sort of my housemate I am. Lie is a strong word, I prefer vague and selective. Fortunately there was no box "lazy twat".
Who is not a lazy twat is Gok Wan, or as we affectionately knew him at uni, Cock Wank. Real mature. I saw him in Bluewater where he was working it in an inflatable studio. It wouldn't happen on the BBC. He is absurdly thin, like a babies arm. Simmer on that.
love love love x
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