Trying to come up with a travel plan with a difference?  Ever wanted to go on your own Grand Tour? Well, The Ashmolean just might be the destination that fits, especially on a Wednesday afternoon @ 3.00pm, as I recently discovered.

It’s simples as a Meerkat might say, educational and incredible to realise just how very lucky King Carlos III of Spain was and how very unlucky some young chaps from Britain were in terms of the goodies on display.

‘Please explain’ as Pauline Hanson once (or maybe on many occasions) said.

OK in laycat terms then…the exhibition focuses on the cargo of The Westmorland (an armed merchant ship), which sailed through the Mediterranean in the late 1770s and was captured by the French on route to England.

The perishable yummies on board the ship, such as the parmesan cheese and olive oil were sold locally, however the bounty of luxury goods; books; paintings and antiquities were sold to the King of Spain, whom forwarded the majority of these to the Royal Academy of Fine Arts in Madrid and in an attempt to make my limited knowledge even briefer…happily after a huge amount of research and locating of these precious pieces, the Ashmolean can now provide people like me, with a wonderful opportunity to view the kind of things young wealthy chaps on their own ‘Grand tours’ tended to spurge on.

Being me, I scribbled down several items that I feel deserve special mention – though prior to viewing my list – what truly blows the mind (and thank you Patsy for pointing this out).  Putting these paintings and drawings in context and recognising that this period pre-dates the digital camera, really cements the significance and impact of the artworks, particularly for those at home whom perhaps would not get the opportunity to make the trip.

A few things you’ll discover – Francis Basset – apparently the fellow whom lost the most of his goods in transit ‘spent lavishly’.

Look out for:

• She’s so beautiful – #112 – The Cumaean Sibyl ca. 1777
• Potentially a gift for your lady friend (or Mother) – #78 – an incredibly detailed fan
• Six pretty perfect, especially in terms of the stillness and dryness they portray – watercolours, produced by John Robert Cozens.
• In the first exhibition room, a really attractive, dare I say Hot Bloke painting – #101 Portrait of an Unknown Man ca. 1777
• An exquisite marble table top
• The Not as Hot Bloke – Carlos III, though referred to as a ‘kindly ruler’ – which is obviously a lot more important.
• And amongst the impressive to graze upon books, a wonderfully rare one, containing new botanical research belonging to Lyde Browne.  Really look out for this for the two pages of illustrations displayed are superb.

Finally and back to the recommendation of attending on a Wednesday at 3.00pm.

Well, the Museum puts on its own tour of the exhibition (another one of Patsy’s great ideas), at this specific time.

And in terms of our experience…our group numbered seven and our guide made the exhibition come alive.  For she introduced us to roughly 20-25 pieces in different areas, providing us with a sufficient backstory, whilst imparting the value and importance of these highly-prized goods in context with the period and the people whom had their treasures captured.

The exhibition runs until 27 August 2012.

ETT and the West Yorkshire Playhouse @ The Oxford Playhouse

Attending in my usual position of little to no knowledge of the production I was about to play audience to, (aside from banking on the ETT to furnish yet another masterpiece), we three headed out and attended a Tom Stoppard play, 29 June.

And happily, I was in no way having to defend my judgement. It was superb from start to finish  The script well-crafted and cleverly considered, the staging a terrific fit and the actors – truly talented individuals.

Additionally, it’s not often I find myself rooting for the couple whom get together when married to others…possibly never…though when the chemistry is this good and the sentiment overpowering, my internal desire to defend the constitution of marriage from outside forces, crumbled completely and I found myself desperately hoping that Henry and Annie’s relationship would work. The Casting was so perfect with a capital P.

I was even thrilled by the audience, for not only did they cross a good seven decades in the age stakes, pretty much everyone I peered upon looked knowledgeable, some kind of edgy, others definitely Observer readers – the kind of people I’d like to somehow (I’m working on it) ‘just bump into’, strike up a conversation with and talk plays, exhibitions and books. I’m sure that I could have learnt a lot from the crowd.

However, back to the best bit – the play. Mr Stoppard, I own up I haven’t seen many of your works, though now I’m definitely on the lookout.  You are a really gifted man. Thank you for sharing it.

And dear English Touring Theatre you can’t put a foot wrong. Bring on Friday, 5 October and The Sacred Flame.

When compiling a list of things to do before you die – please really consider visiting Hydra.

I shan’t be more persuasive, rather I’ll just supply you with the facts.

Firstly, I’ve had the immense great fortune of being here for just over three days and we have extended our stay, just so we can experience maximal enjoyment.

There is absolutely no point of beating around the bush, I love Greece and have ever since arriving for my first time, 24 April 1993 – just two weeks prior to turning 21.

It’s a place that never ceases to amaze and if I’m counting correctly this is my sixth adventure here – with each journey always starting with a flight into Athens and at least a day and night visiting places of such awe as the Acropolis, Agora and more recently, the Fabulous with a capital F – Acropolis Museum. Then it’s out to the Islands and as there are so many beauties to choose from, there’s more than enough to please everyone.

Thus my newest experience finds me in what appears to be very much the Greek Riviera.  For, from the moment you see the port come into view, you know you’re on a winner, this place is not only picture postcard with an assembly of 18^th century buildings positioned along the quay (and a tiny way up the hill), but it’s also free of traffic – both mopeds and cars that is – aside from one garbage truck and possibly one other vehicle on the whole island – it’s the land of the donkey and mule (which unfortunately I haven’t found a good enough reason to utilise…yet…) or if you’re interested in heading out for a swim around the island, there are boats aplenty.

And your options for culture – there’s the Hydra Cinema Club, The Koundouriotis Mansion – a top treat for an appreciation of 18^th/19^th century architecture and furniture, traditional costumes, some impressive artworks, view over the sea and a wonderfully kind and helpful lady at the front door who can answer all questions fired her way. And other spots I’ve yet to view – though I really shall.

And briefly, beach/swim life is so satisfying. Today found me hanging with the tiny fishes at Agios Nikolaos – the kind of secluded beach you always wished for and really does exist.

Furthermore, Hydra’s restaurant pleasure – I’ve yet to find one I wouldn’t recommend.

I’ll post in greater detail in ‘Top Shelf Destinations’ at a later stage – though I guess I wanted to share the word.  Greece is just as beautiful as she has always been, unfortunately not enough tourists are here (this sounds strange saying this…).  It’s true though, Greece needs you, the restaurants, boats, bars, hotels, rooms aren’t as full as they deserve to be.

You can swim all day long in the most clear and warm of waters; embrace super salad and seafood and an abundant load of tzatziki; marvel at some of the fashions on display; forget what day it is within a day of arriving; never feel inhibited in swimming costume (or minus half a swimming costume) and truly love just being here.

I’ve just returned from indulging myself completely in a fabulous showcase of Mr Christian Louboutin’s craftsmanship at the Design Museum.

Happily, I easily sold my product based on the lure of ‘partial nudity’ (though it wasn’t really) to snare a willing companion (read husband). So both of us headed off this morning and spent approximately one hour marvelling at the inspiration and design of these globally identifiable and cherished pieces of pleasure, art and wearable fashion.

The brief introduction recommends to the delighted viewer that he designs for every woman’s ‘inner showgirl’ and from the selection on display you can see that this observation is pretty spot on.  For instance, if you are a furry goat boot girl – it’s covered. Or maybe you’re more the 5 inch stiletto heel kind of a lady – you’re so catered for. Or alternatively, why not experiment in a thigh high snake skin beauty (or the equally beautiful Metropolis in red leather with metal spikes)…. Your pleasure appears simply to be his pleasure and he wants to make you really happy.

I found myself mentally preparing a list of my personal favourites (just in case), with these tending towards the sparkly side of showgirl. Most edging towards a 1940s appearance and so aptly identified as Batgirl, Cotton Club, Galaxy Pass though two more beauties really require mention and though they weren’t sparkly, they so qualify for special mention, Carnaval (2009)  – a soft pink with petals of loveliness ensemble and the Salopina Strasse (2008) – a spectacular red satin and peacock feather pair of happiness.

It was lavish, it was indulgent, it was a perfect daydream. Hurry though, as it finishes 9 July 2012.

Rose Tremain

First off, I feel it vitally important that I create the scene of my consumption of this particular treat.  Why? Well, for the most part I was either participating in riding the Sydney System – the eighties term for the capital of New South Wales’s train provision, or sitting (almost comfortably), in coach class on Malaysia Airlines.  Partaking in a little companionless travel and finding myself escaping easily into and absorbing the tale. Diverted only and occasionally by the ‘water, orange or guava’ drink offer indicated by the exquisitely attired flight attendant, or the hum of the train tracks as we picked up pace and sped through the Inner West.

Narrated by a 13 year old chap (Lewis), who’s spending the summer of 1994 with his mother, as guests of Valentina. The latter being a woman whom simply oozes off the page.

Prepare yourself for sensory hyperactivity.  For not only can you see, smell, hear and taste Paris, you can touch her and feel the heat rising from the pavements. Your only respite from the midday temperatures, find a spot under some trees, armed with a small glass of something very very cold. Lewis’s selection often being an Orangina or a Shandy, mine more likely to be a glass of Fanta Lemon or Sauvignon Blanc.

Lewis’s undeniable courage and perhaps at times, stupidity leaves you no options, except to turn the page.  His thoughts on his father’s summer project, though disparaging, astute and his commitment to Valentina is so immersed in teenage adoration that I found myself almost aching to feel so passionately and so single-mindedly once more.

I very much doubt it was the author’s intention to get me pining for a little step back in time time, though Lewis’s behaviour is so uncompromised and disinterested in the sensible, it’s incredibly appealing.

Additionally, this story explores a plethora of experience, both adult and adolescent and I found myself assigning each character, according to their attitude to Lewis, to either being a potential friend or non-friend candidate for me. Dad you’re in, Sergei you’re in and Valentina’s mum you are definitely in.  Alice, sorry you’re a little too self-absorbed, so you’re not in.

Lewis – one thing I should really let you know – and I bring this up because of a couple of reviews I read post completion of the book.  Though you are potentially a little cleverer than most of your peers (and this is where a couple of negatives appear to stem from, daring to suggest that this lends itself to you being less than believable), I won’t hear a word of it.  I think your intellect is a credit to you and I was relieved to discover that fellows your age, are interested in spending their time translating select French texts and learning about Existentialism.

And just one more thing. Rose Tremain you never cease to amaze. Your ability to constantly produce works that are so varied and engaging always makes you a super author to pick-up and REALLY enjoy. Thank you.

I’ve just spent the last day and a half, coming up with sure fire excuses to head down to the shops in an attempt to catch sight of one of them.  I walk slowly, smiling ludicrously, trying furtively to gain eye content with any and every 20 year old-ish male, as my affections currently have no limits and I’m desperate to see them again.

Yes, you guessed it…I had the absolute delight of seeing Out of the Blue, live at the New Theatre Oxford on Monday evening.

So, in regards to this particular expedition.  I felt well and truly prepared, as the small chap had received the CD ‘RESOUND’ (2010) for Christmas, which had undergone pretty much continuous playback until ‘RUSH’ (2011) came to live with us and now there is a constant struggle between the two – for which one can make it to the CD player first.

Hence, working with the clues:
You can detect that prior to 7.30pm, 11 June
+   I loved their style
+   I loved their ‘Stacy’s Mom’, ‘Don’t you want me’ and ‘Rehab’ and much, much, more,
+   I even loved their album covers.
However, I wasn’t planning on being a Groupie…???….which, my insides are now bursting to be.

I guess there’s no point holding it back then – rather I’ll embrace it, so with no further ado

• 1^st law of being a groupie – buy the programme.
  And familiarise yourself with the product.  Learn their backstory and spend time acquainting yourself with their photographic image (if one is provided).

Aside from that I’m still working on my technique – so back to Monday evening then

Picture: Fifteen young men, really enjoying themselves, standing on stage in different formation, using slight (though sometimes not so slight) body movement – excellently choreographed, singing beautifully, without accompaniment – aside from the rhythm and beats they produce themselves, smiling lots and giving the audience more than they had bargained for.  Then add, perhaps fifteen tunes – a mixture of pop, rock, R&B and by far the best rendition of Amazing Grace you are ever likely hear and you have about a third of how it really was.

Not only are these men terrific, they put on a great show.

Their appeal crosses all boundaries and their Musical Director (Nick Barstow) deserves special mention, for the arrangement of the pieces, selection of best fit voices and the diversity of the music/songs/singing, must have been a pretty hard problem to solve and you did it Mr Barstow, with Distinction.

Therefore…Young chaps be afraid, be very afraid – as I’m now 100% your biggest follower.

Though I generally stretch out the timescale between my adventures and attempt not to over stimulate and excitement myself too much, I couldn’t…wouldn’t…dream of passing up a little more pleasure – for the Race Horse Company were coming to town.

Between you and me, I hadn’t actually heard too much about them though the advertising material grabbed my interest, for anything to do with ‘extraordinarily talented young artists’, ‘world-class circus like you’ve never seen before’ and ‘seemingly impossible stunts’ tends to snatch my attention.

Thus, I found myself sitting very eagerly in Row K, pretty much in the centre of a really jubilant and very mixed aged audience, three evenings ago.

First thing to take on board – this show both extended and exceeded my appreciation and definition of circus.

Secondly –they did not stop, for the three incredibly agile, accomplished and amazing performers were either scaling poles; wrestling (in a very attractive and acrobatic way); bouncing, flipping and racing around on Swiss Balls; breakdancing, trampolining (though none of that run of mill kind of stuff – rather in a cool street way); climbing in and out of tyres; staying in character (for the most part as surly, fairly destitute worksite, employees – I think…); whilst providing their sold out audience with an unbelievably animated evening out.

Thirdly – Everything was on time.  Why so shocked?  Well, I’m one whom you’d refer to as, less than co-ordinated, so when I see people doing things ‘in time’ ‘together’, I find this to be top shelf in the achievement stakes.

Fourthly – the music and lighting fits really, really, well with the performance. It’s utilised brilliantly for mood setting and staging.

Finally – and this might explain the performance better than I can:
The applause that followed the final act was enormous and so full of thanks.  There was no holding back with a polite clap, for people were cheering, squealing and whistling their appreciation. Even perhaps 25% of the audience got to their feet to illustrate their gratitude, which I haven’t seen for a truly long time.

I’ve just googled where they are heading next – so take my advice and do your darnedest and get tickets, for it’s original and will expand your appreciation of what’s possible.

• 12^th and 13^th June – Poole Lighthouse
• 15^th, 16^th and 17^th – Sherman Theatre, Cathays, Cardiff

Gosh, such an early wake up but such fabulous fun.

So, bleary eyed and not so bushy tailed, I surfaced Friday morning at 5.05am – thankfully with good reason.  For I and the rest of the clan were heading to Hay, the Hay Festival to be precise.  An excellent location to hang out and let the experience and erudition of the Artists (Hay’s word, not mine), diffuse into all of one’s parts.

Hence armed with tickets, my husband maybe a little ambitious with his back to back programme, we headed out West to see and hear real published authors; sit and listen starry-eyed to historians and cheer on the champions of children’s/teenagers’ literature.

It was soggy, really soggy – Friday that is, as we’d booked to attend events over a two day period.

Kick off (10.00hr) saw us happily stationed in the mid to back audience of Simon and Alex Scarrow. Both brothers, both writers and both entertaining.  I’ll confess now, I haven’t read either, though this in no way distracted from the appeal (however husband and small chap have enjoyed muchly). For they confidently sell their product and enchanted all of us with extracts from their books, answering questions from the audience in a very honest way and challenging six contestants to a history quiz.

Moving to the 14.30hr slot – small chap and my mystery event – as we had no idea what we were up for – though had a feeling it might be about puberty from a girl’s point of view.   Yes, some young males might be disinterested, though luckily this one I feel is beyond being put-off, rather desires the inside scoop.  And the scoop was plentiful.

Louise Rennison, it was an absolute pleasure being in your audience.  You were laugh out loud good fun from the moment you stepped on stage.  Furthermore, you engaged everyone completely with your terrifically layback and genuine approach to growing up and describing it, both in words, personal tales and actions. Your extracts were a mix of chortle loudly whilst patting one’s eyes so one’s mascara wouldn’t run, especially the re-tell of Tallulah’s evening at the movies and what happens when she reaches home.

As testament to your impress factor, small chap whispered across within ten minutes of being in your presence, ‘Can we buy some of her books please?’ (thankfully he said please which is not only a relief, though further evidence of how much enjoyment he was experiencing). Honestly though, I wasn’t waiting for him to ask, for I’d already decided, this lady requires much more of my time. You were so worth the wait at book signing and thank you for looking pleased to meet us.

Day Two  – dawns.

9.00hr – found us back in Big Tent, in the company of Charlotte Higgins as Chair and Bettany Hughes, Alice Oswald, Madeline Miller and Tim Whitmarsh on the panel, discussing for the most part, interpretations of Homer’s Iliad.

Admittedly, I was a little nervous that this might go over my head, though luckily it didn’t, well not all of it. Instead I found myself contemplating ways that I could encourage the five of them to come over to my house later for a drink and a further chat.  For they were all so good at explaining their intentions and approaches to the text, putting across their enthusiasm for the subject and instilling in us all – the importance, brilliance and impact that both The Odyssey and the Iliad carry.

Ohh and I also took in a little celebrity spotting (aside from obviously what was on stage) for in the audience there was one of, the very friendly and hardworking members of the Creation Theatre team whom I forced my young chap to go up to and say ‘Hello’.

Post event, husband rushed off for book signing with Madeline Miller and Bettany Hughes (yes, I feel he is as starry eyed as I am) and small chap and I headed off to AA Gill talking to John Mitchinson, hoping Daddy would make it in time.  And yes he did.

Mr Gill and Mr Mitchinson, were a super match.  The audience was HUGE. And the topic for discussion was based around AA Gill’s new book, The Golden Door: Letters to America.

A very, very, entertaining mix of wit, interesting fact, strong opinion, a call from Mummy, the random expletive, wonderful story telling and a riveted audience. Pure enjoyment.

Post a break and happily the sun arriving, husband headed off to take in some World War II chats and small chap and I returned to the children’s/teenage scene.  First stop – 13.00hr – Philip Reeve talks to Sarah McIntyre.  In actual fact less talk to each other, more interaction with their very eager assembled listeners.  We were treated to extracts from Mr Reeve’s new book Goblins; introduced to Clovenstone; invited to fire a goblin at a flip chart using a bratapult; and let in on a collaboration between Mr Reeve and Miss (or Ms or Mrs, sorry Wikipedia couldn’t tell me) McIntyre which will hopefully arrive within the next 12-18 months.

Then the One small chap had been really waiting for, his favourite author – Christopher Paolini (14.30hr), and what a wonderful high to leave Hay on.

For the young Mr Paolini (born 1983), has not only devoted over half his life to producing/writing the ‘magnificent’ (small chap’s description) Inheritance Cycle and in the process pleasing millions of readers worldwide, he also -in the flesh- radiates enthusiasm, is an incredibly effervesce individual and I feel is a wonderful and inspiring role model.  He provided the audience with a brief background to how it all began, what he’s currently up to and where he’s going. Further too, he gave the assembled mass the news they most wanted to hear, that there would be a 5^th tome in the cycle, though they may need to wait as he has twenty other books he’s interested in writing as well.  What a relief!  He wasn’t going to leave his adoring audience wanting, he’s going to provide them with further for their feast.  This Big Tent event was Big Pleasure and beautifully topped off with a meeting and signing with the man.

I had a sensational two days. Thank you Hay Festival!

I headed out last Friday afternoon, not only in an attempt to avoid working on a university submission, though mainly to visit The Story Museum, Pembroke Street, Oxford. Explain? Well post flyer perusal, I’d considered this to be a jolly good option for an afternoon’s entertainment, though I’ll be honest with you I wasn’t prepared to be really impressed.

I definitely wasn’t prepared.  I was balled over. It was an absolute hoot. An eclectic smorgasbord of brain fun.

Older Worlds – running from May 1 – 27 (so you better be quick), introduced me to a new way of thinking and experiencing. The installations (hoping that’s the right word) are housed over three floors and utilise the space, which at times is quite dilapidated, exceptionally well.

I shan’t tell you all, for that will just spoil the fun (so note some rooms aren’t mentioned), though I feel it would be polite to furnish you with the dégustateur de menu.

Following this route then:

Ground Floor

Room 10 – Windows to the Story World – thanks go to a number of Year 7 students at the Dragon School for this one.  It was  amusing to see a clear pattern develop between young ladies’ tastes and young gentlemen’s idea of a great tale.

Room 13 – Is my secret safe? – a quandary. Do you select a key and open the appropriate box to find out what’s concealed inside. Or do you maintain the integrity of what is hidden?

Room 16 – The invisible women – get to grips with the Mother of Adam Smith’s side of the story…produced on tea towels

Room 21 – The Queen of Found Objects Secret Store Room – a bursting button… its perspective

First Floor

Room 28 – The Word Storm – arm yourself with a torch and head in to be surrounded by words, and spot jewels cascading through the ceiling

Room 31 – The Many Faces of the Story Museum :The Eye Surgeons – fantastic photographs, offered up for your viewing (and purchasing) pleasure. Look out for PAPPED.

Second Floor

Room 32 – A Crafty Fag – go check up on Bob Hutchins

Room 33 – The National Audio Sneeze Laboratory – who would have thought

Room 35 – The Time Traveller’s Bureau – write a letter to yourself and it will be delivered to you, a year from now

Room 38 – The English Society of Lost Things – what a fantastic discovery.  
In a final effort to establish the whereabouts of my son’s school jumper, I entered this particular space and was met by a super, efficient Eileen (the Manageress), whom was immediately on the case. She made a quick call to Rupert (obviously another super competent employee), in an attempt to track down the recalcitrant item of clothing. Her confidence in its recovery was contagious.  I’ve been re-assured, it will be located and make its way back home.

A synopsis then?  It’s quirky, it’s kooky, it’s fabulous fun. And as it’s due to finish this Sunday, I’d recommend you either reshuffle your commitments for this weekend, or alternatively stray from the confines of your work place for a couple of hours this Thursday or Friday and experience and see things a little differently.

It was pretty much a foregone conclusion that I’d fall in love with at least one character. Surprisingly though, I found my emotions divided last Saturday afternoon, not in half though in thirds.

Time for a little background brief
Since the young chap turned ten – yes, double figures seemed like the most appropriate time for the introduction – almost two years ago, I’ve been getting my kicks, as have the rest of the family, from Shakespeare.

Not only benefitting from our former and current proximity to Stratford upon Avon, where the performances are stand up and cheer material, but also from a variety of other companies and locations.

So, from the moment I’d discovered that the Globe Theatre on Tour were coming to town, I rushed off, bought the tickets and crossed off the days on my Goats in Trees Calendar, eagerly anticipating the entertainment I indeed experienced last weekend.

I shan’t even attempt to give you the plot, for I know I’ll get it wrong in too many ways, though I can assure you the moment Pistol walked on stage, my heart (the size of a small adult’s fist) began to patter a little faster. His presence; his delivery; his lines; his character; his visible enjoyment of Hostess Quickly; are for me the reasons why Shakespeare works now, then and perhaps always.

Proceeding with my sweet confessions.

So you’ve already identified where a 1/3 of my affection lies. So, let’s turn to No.2:

Captain Fluellen – He’s serious, amusing (how’s that???) and Welsh. In addition, Brendan O’Hea’s performance of the character couldn’t have been improved upon. He was (is) A Star Star.

‘And the final third goes to…’this is when it gets a little trickier. For my adulation goes not to one specific character, instead it’s awarded to a relationship.  It’s nearing the end of the play, the one that sprouts between King Henry V and Princess Katherine. Predominantly the scene where he expresses his feelings (however their proceeding dance also delivered lots of happiness), for both Olivia Ross (what a tremendous theatrical debut) and Jamie Parker, execute their lines and performance deliciously.

The only thing I pined for – a thrust stage.

Though, I guess that missing feature kept the actors at a safe distance.  Providing them with some kind of protection from that doe-eyed woman in the pink dress.