Saturday, 5 May 2007


One of the main parts of my job, is finding new development sites. Much of my time is spent propping up bars with other developers and agents, as well as builders and engineers etc. All painful stuff, but I'm getting used to it after several years, and so is my liver.

As I know London pretty well, I spend much of my time up there, and as His Grice The Mayor, Ken Livingstone charges dosh (our profits), just to drive a car there, I often 'do' and area on foot.

Yesterday was no exception, and I spent several very happy hours, wandering about Southwark, poking my nose in alleyways, peering over walls, writing on an envelope, and staring at nothing in particular, hoping for some revelation as well as staying out of the pubs for once...

There are some marvellous buildings there, and scope for several others, and much of the time, my face is upturned, ignoring the road hazards, wandering like a cloud, and enjoying a beaming existence in brilliant sunshine.

So, to all the many folk who were in the vicinity of The Tate Modern around lunchtime yesterday, and who spotted a late middle aged gentleman, dressed in jeans and a blazer, trying to hop onto a kerb, turning his ankle painfully, and shrieking in pain...

Thanks a bunch for ignoring me, and thanks for not noticing me yell "BUGGER"!


Modo said...

Have you been to that nice Jewish sandwich shop just down the lane from the Globe, opposite the 'clink' as I recall...

Sen. C.R.O'Blene said...

Evening Lucien,

No, but I'll give it a danmn good try next week! Do they do salt beef?

Many thanks for the tip. I did a quick walk through Borough Market at lunchtime, just before I fell arse over tip, and the place is seething! I often spend a happy hour or three in The Hop Cellars, in Southwark St, which in fact is a very reasonable place to have a glass of wine and a good lunch.

The Clink just oozes history - I love the area!

Electro-Kevin said...

I had a vasectomy just before Christmas. I was dreading the operation, but it wasn't too bad in the end.

The next day my nuts had swollen up (as expected) and I was clumping around bow-legged like John Wayne without his horse. I was coming down the stairs like a draughtsman's compass and slipped off the bottom step. I heard a crack and then my foot turned right under my ankle with unsupported body weight on top of it.

I had snapped the meta-tarsal (I knew I'd done it). We were going out to a works do that night so I didn't want to get stuck in casualty - so I fashioned a splint out of a placemat and a bandage and went out and got pissed and boogied the night away.

The bone feels arthritic some days and the ankle is still slightly swollen now. It was dancing to The Sex Pistols wot dunnit !

(I've blog-rolled you btw)

Tuscan Tony said...

My engineer brother always says to look up when in London, most of the ground level facades change every few years, but the upper stories are often untouched for centuries.