Sleeper Bus

So, here was the writing exercise:
'Write about an everyday experience from the point of view of a ‘community’ that you are a member off (national, physical, religious, class, political, industrial).'

And here's my take! 

The Laos / Vietnam Border

 
Sleeper Bus


We’re all pushed into a corner of course, the foreigners. The one nearest to the toilet and furthest away from the fire exits. I was woken up last night by a mouse crawling in my hair, no doubt trying to get at my curry-crab flavoured crisps. As I tried to get back to sleep I watched a large cockroach sauntering across the head rest in front, it paused to pose, silhouetted heroically in the moonlight.

At dawn the next morning, after the bureaucratic hoop jumps, I climbed back into my bed, tucking my newly stamped passport into my money belt. I couldn’t stretch out of course, anyone over 5’8 is viewed as a giant round here. We all had our crosses to bear. Mine was an energetic local woman who kept flicking my face with her hair when she leant over me to adjust the curtain with her umbrella. Something she liked to do a lot. We’d been on this bus for sixteen hours already, imodium-ed up the eyeballs and rapidly losing patience.

Suddenly, from the front of the bus came a commotion. The driver was heading straight for us, the white corner, gesticulating insanely and pointing at each of us in turn. We looked blankly at each other, and then at him. He got louder. Other passengers around us began pointing at us, then the border, then at us. It made no sense.

He started pulling us from our seats. We climbed down, filed out of the bus and stood there in the dust. Then, with no warning, the door closed and he drove off. All of about twenty metres over the border. After screeching to a halt, he opened the door and started screaming back at us, motioning for us to get back on, cursing us in Vietnamese for jogging too slow. We got back on the bus and squeezed back into our seats. The bus drove on.

The Only Way is Essex or Some Shit Like That

So, our writing exercise over reading week was this:

'Write about something you have a very strong opinion on from a neutral point of view.'

 

So, it turns out I'm not very good at being un-opinionated...

 

 

The Only Way is Essex

 

I suppose they do contribute something to society, even if it is just how to get the perfect scouse brow or championing completely unnecessary breast implants. They show that just about anyone can become famous, proving you don’t really need to go to school, or work to better yourself. It's all lying there waiting for you, if you'll sufficiently compromise your dignity. So, they become living beacons of glitter for all the kids who doubted it was possible to become successful by achieving barely anything.

 

“Look at me,” they say, “I can just about string a sentence together and, at 25, I’ve just released my autobiography. It’s called ‘Dreams’ or ‘Dreaming’ or something”. Or “I achieved fame by getting really fat and then thin again and then fat and then thin. I hope to reach the dizzying heights of getting my tits out for Nuts magazine, and then one day fulfilling my life-long dream of getting drunk and then pissing the bed on celebrity Big Brother.”

 

They are the pied pipers of the entitled generation, working hard to stamp the notion of ‘It’s ok to be yourself’ and ‘It’s what on the inside that counts’. I can hear them now, clattering all over the feminist movement in their debilitating stilettos, flashing the highest bidder.

The Monico

After years of darkness is seemed to sit blinking in the light, its back wall ripped out, exposing row up row of faded seats and the sleepy projector window.  It wasn’t done with any kind of decorum, it was as if someone had bent it over, lifted it up its brown and yellow skirt and showed its big granny knickers to the world.

And that was that, the heavy red curtains drawn on the days of Saturday cinema, with the screechy Wurlitzer organ and the parade of birthday children, and the excitement of seeing the stern-faced Mr Monico in the foyer. It was a place of playdates, first dates and Beauty and the Beast.

I used to think that the words ‘Monico’ and ‘Cinema’ were synonymous with each other, and that the giant pot holes in the car park added to the charm. Its carpets were sticky with generations of ‘not to be sold separately’ cans of coke and overpriced Revels. I distinctly remember a man smoking in there once, big puffs billowing up through the projector beam.

When my brother served Mr Monico in Tesco a few years later, he was surprised to learn that his name wasn’t Mr Monico at all, it was in fact Mr Bull. He looked genuinely upset when he later informed me of this.

We had both been duped.

It's Term Time Again! (Cocktales part 1)

Ahh guys, here we go again - me bombarding you with my creative writing. Feel free to peruse, or not, whatever takes your fancy:

'Pick a type of non-fiction book (atlas, recipe book, guidebook, textbook, dictionary). Use this form to structure a piece of writing about something you have experienced.'

This was inspired by Rebecca West's Excerpts from a Family Medical Dictionary in which the author uses dictionary definitions to frame the story of her mother dying from cancer. Such a powerful book, I would totally recommended.

Here's my (slightly more light-hearted) take on the idea:

 

The Cocktail List

The Bangkok Sling

1 part Jet Lag

1 part Faltering Self Confidence

½ serving of Alleged Experience

A dash of Age Related Social Anxiety

Ok, you’re in. You’ve ordered, it’s fine. Everyone else is sitting with someone but whatever, don’t let that bother you. And you’ve got a book. Get your book out. No wait, no one will chat to someone reading a book – you know that, it’s Backpacker 101. Just sit back and take in the sights, look approachable, friendly. Not too friendly.

Serve over ice in a highball, best garnished with a Malboro Light.

 

The Kuta Vortex

2 parts Necessity

1 part Unsure Approach Tactic

1 part juice of Ill-Advised Hareem Trousers

The chopstick part is over. Right, there’s two there. They look nice, and they’re laughing. They must be funny too. Funny and nice. And they look English, a bit Essex in fact - one of them is wearing those weird fabric shoes that are so popular nowadays. You know they at least speak English, you confirmed that on your recon fly by during your last trip to the bar.

For a more mellow version, serve with a side of Over The Counter By a False Name Tramadol.

 

The Lombok Iced Tea

3 parts Dutch Courage

1 part Desperation

A dash of Time is Ticking

If one of them smoked then I could ask for a light, the text book, perfect ice breaker. But no, healthy bastards. Just think, if you don’t do it now then you’ll have to do it all again tomorrow. You don’t want to spend another night on your own reading in your room do you? Well then. Here we go, one, two three...

Lightly dust brim of glass with some Fraudulently Obtained Pseudoephedrine. Serve on ice.

 

The JP SX - Board Review

Four years in the making, the SX has proven to be one of Swansea-based John ‘JP’ Purton’s most popular models. The boards range from 5’0” to 6’6” and are available in a swallow, square or round tail, depending on personal preference and ability. The board was originally designed for surfers who are competent with performance surfing but are looking for a board which will handle mushy summer waves. It is a board design with versatility in mind, supposedly being able to handle waist high beach breaks up to head and a half high reefs.

 JP is a well-known name not just around the South Wales area, but across the UK and abroad, and John has been making boards for a long time, a very long time, in fact since he was 13. His two sons, Tom and Louis, are now part of his shaping business and since 2002 they have owned and operated their own DSD shaping machine from their Penclawdd workshop.  

They’re known for high performance, good quality boards and honed through years of experience and expertise. JP has some impressive sponsored riders, such as Llantwit local Nathan Phillips, Tom Lowe, Fergal Smith, the Gower’s Gwen Spurlock and Porthcawl’s Chris Seage.  

The true shortboard is experiencing a decline in popularity at the moment, especially in Britain, with many surfers favouring the old school, retro vibes of a fish or the combined qualities of a hybrid shortie. People with full time jobs who don’t live near the sea don’t have the option of surfing every day and want a board that they can just jump on and get waves, that still maintains the responsive snappiness of a shortboard but with the added buoyancy and volume of a larger board.  

So, with this in mind I borrowed a test JP SX (a 6’2” x 19 ½ x 2 ½ squaretail to be exact) from the guys in City Surf in Cardiff city centre and gave it a couple of tries. I surfed it twice at Rest Bay in Porthcawl and once at Ogmore in the Vale, and also once at a secret reef somewhere on the Glamorgan coast.  I tested it in a variety of conditions as well, between hip and shoulder high on the beachies and head high on the reef. 

The SX performed well, its super fun to ride, easily manoeuvrable, responsive and rides well. Contrary to the fuller plan shape, it’s easy to get a good lip smack out of it and works well on the rail to rail. The relaxed rocker contrasts well with the single to double concave towards the tail, meaning that the board is easy to catch waves on yet snappy and sharp. 

However, on the smallest day when the waves were around hip high, I found it incredibly hard to maintain any speed and found myself sinking wave after wave. Despite the 6’2” length and elevated volume, I still found it hard to surf in the conditions and would have been better off with a retro fish style board, of course this would mean compromising the manoeuvrability. The SX is said to work in waist high beach breaks and above, but I’d say that this was the absolute limit for this board.

In the reef break it went really well – easy to keep the speed up and was really easy to catch waves on. The board definitely benefited from the added punch of the reef and I had a super fun surf, it feels a lot thinner than it actually is and even I got some good spray off my top turns.

Me surfing a different board, on a different day...

I would buy this board to add to my quiver as a good all-rounder, volume for the smaller days and concave for the bigger days yet maintaining responsiveness throughout. Although I wouldn’t go throwing away my retro fish or high performance shortboard just yet, as where this board seems to work well in the middle of the spectrum, it isn’t prepared for the extremes on either end. Saying that, the SX’s fat older brother the SX5, with its 5 fin set up and wider deck, would be perfect for the smaller, weaker waves. Or even the RX5, which is in the same family and yet again has a wider plan shape, and is more akin to an original 80s thruster.  

In a nutshell, I would buy this board. I want this board. It’s a good addition to any quiver.

Are Kindles killing books?

Does the Kindle Spell the End for Books in Print?

In a nutshell, no. I don't that the Kindle and Kindle-like products will render books obsolete, but I do believe that there is a market for each. While many use both, normally books at home and a Kindle for travelling, I, on the other hand, stand firmly with the rest of the bibliophiles.

"Books are no more threatened by Kindle than stairs by elevators," says Stephen Fry, and I am inclined to agree. What works for one person does not for another. Many favour the compact, lightweight, technologically adept Kindle, but others feels that you can't ever replace the smell and feel of a proper book.

I also feel that Kindles take some of the fun out of reading. Just the other day I was getting to the end of Joseph Heller's amazing book Catch 22 on the train to Bath, when the man next to me turned and asked if I had ever read it before. I replied in the negative. "You should" he said, "it's completely different the second time around, it changed my life." The revelation and the ensuing conversation would not have been possible if I had been reading it on a Kindle.

And for those who loving reading, surely being able to recognise and remark on the book of a fellow commuter is special. Plus, you get to internally judge them on their choice of tome, which is also fun. In cases such as these, the Kindle is denying us the feeling of camaraderie when you see someone a quarter of the way into a book you love, wondering if they'll adore it as much as you do. Who knows what these Kindle folk are reading? No wonder Fifty Shades of Grey became a bestseller when no one can see the cover.

"But it's so light and easy to travel with," they cry, and I of all people should see the benefit in this. I've spent years backpacking, often weighed down with three or more novels and a guidebook. When asked why I don't get a Kindle to make life easier, I can come up with numerous reasons. The first is that I like to pass books on or swap them with other travellers, the knowledge that it's been passed through countless pairs of hands all over the world is a warming one indeed. Plus, when you're on your own, it can be a great way to meet people. See/offer a book, start a conversation and hey presto, you may have just found yourself a new travel buddy. All through a book.


The second reason is that I like the fact that I'm pushed out of my comfort zone when faced with a hostel bookshelf full of completely bizarre titles. Because of this I've read some amazing books which I would never have picked up otherwise, such as Jose Saramango's Blindness, and some others which I wouldn't pick up again, like the book adaptation of Total Recall and some questionable romance novels.

Of course Kindles have their plus points. Many of the classics are free, you can store a load of books for a lazy holiday and have a novel in your hand within seconds, and it sure would make my university reading lists a lot cheaper.

But at the end of the day call me old fashioned, technophobic, stubborn, I can never, ever see myself buying a Kindle. And there are many like me - those whose houses are stacked with row upon row of books but wouldn't have it any other way.

Where do you stand?

The Endless Winter - Review

Top professional Cornish surfers Mark ‘Igor’ Harris and Mitch Corbett are on a mission, a mission to discover the roots of surfing in the UK. Along the way they meet the iconic locals who went on to become legends and get to grips with what makes British surfing so special. The product of this journey is ‘The Endless Winter’, and what a journey it is.

“We wanted to make a film that British surfers could be proud of,” says producer Matt Crocker who, along with James Dean, is responsible for the movie.  And that they have done. The film is both interesting and informative, avoiding the Cornwall-heavy bias of many British surf films by including many spots such as the Gower, Brighton and Thurso East.

 

 

The film’s tagline is ‘A very British surf movie’, and it certainly goes to fill a gap in a market oversaturated with footage of warm water barrels in exotic locations. British surfing has evolved on its own terms and in its own time and the resulting eccentric characters and hardcore surfing community is covered well. 

Igor and Mitch come across as genuinely nice guys and connect well with those they are interviewing, such as surfing icons Pete ‘PJ’ Jones, Spencer Hargraves and Nigel Semmens. They reveal what UK surfing was like at its birth, such as the ridiculousness of surfing in a woolly jumper in January, whilst tackling more sensitive issues, such as the suicide of promising young surfer Nigel Veitch who dived off the cliffs at Tynemouth after losing his sponsor. The story is handled well and goes to show that getting British surfers on the map, not to mention the rankings, was not all plain sailing.

 Memorable scenes include when Igor and Mitch join ‘The Muddy Brothers’ by surfing the Severn Bore tidal wave in total darkness, and the section on Sennen’s legendary Skewjack Surf Camp. The film also reveals some surprising facts, such as surfing’s link to Agatha Christie, King Edward 8^th and Captain James Cook, as well as the effect of the World Wars on the surfing community.  

It’s had a positive reception, it won Best British Film at the 2012 London Surf/Film Festival and enjoyed outdoor premiers all over the UK.  The soundtrack isn’t bad either; featuring the obvious, but still good, Devonshire surfer Ben Howard as well as others, such as The Fairport Convention and the imaginatively named Hotel Flamingo (I’d never heard of them either). It also includes black and white film footage as well as animations, courtesy of Simon Ball.

But there are problems. The in-water footage leaves a lot to desired, it’s shaky and unsteady and a couple of times during the Badlands section it even gets jammed into the sand, leaving viewers with an invigorating few seconds of Cornish seaweed. The film could have also done with some more footage of women surfers and groms, of which Britain has many, and excellent ones at that.

 

However, my main bugbear is that the production team are not surfers. Let me reiterate that, these guys don’t surf. In fact, in ‘The Making Of’ section, they admit that they found it hard when filming to anticipate the surfers’ next move on the wave, their lack of knowledge being so. It seems strange to have outsiders documenting and commenting on a community which is so notoriously insular and close-knit. Those of us who were not lucky enough to grow up surfing know how intimidating it can be at the beginning– the language, rules, hierarchy, etiquette, not to mention the sometimes aggressive localism. The well-worn idiom of ‘Only a surfer knows the feeling’ seems to be tested by this DVD.  

But they do make any effort to stick to just the main spots and don’t reveal any that viewers wouldn’t know about already. I wonder how much of that decision was based on the surfers’ code rather than the risk of getting their windscreen waxed or face the backlash from revealing a secret spot. Plus, when they approached and met the featured local surfers, who are legends in the surfing world, I wonder if they had the same deep-set respect and admiration that a surfer would have.  

On the flip side, it means that even those who are not surfers can understand, appreciate and be inspired by the film. And along with the 30 minutes of extras, the film is definitely worth a watch. It really does encapsulate what makes British surfing unique, the history and evolution surfing in the UK, and the fact that the never ending search for the perfect wave has been with us from the very beginning.

The Endless Winter trailer