Plat vrouger en noe.
Vandoage bliek ok weer es da 't Iedendoagse Plat en 't olde Angel-Sassiesch aigentliks 't zulfde bunt. Wat lezen ik in zon olde tekste (The Dream of the Rood, regel 7-8) ? Tis messchien 'n wa' vremde regel, moar echt woare, 't is praktis plat:

(..) Eall thaet beacen waes
begoten mid golde. (..)

In 't Hooghaarlemmerdieks:

Heel dat Baken was
Begoten met Goud.

Veur as iej' ow afvroag'n woar as't wieters over giet: 't is 'n tekste over 'n drome woarin d'ien of andere bome 'oog in de luchte zwev'n en teggen de dromer sprek'n. 'E zegg'n dat'e de bome is woaran Kerst gekruuzigd zol wean... Joa die Angel-Saks'n mutt'n de wiet ok al vroog entdekt eb'n...

Sign of Our Times
This morning I was not feeling very productive at all really: having dutifully read throughout most of my reading week. So, I decided to go out into the gloom (it was cloudy today) and I walked along the Regent's Canal. This is the sort of place like in the song Dirty Old Town:

I met my love by the gas works wall
Dreamed a dream by the old canal
Kissed a girl by the factory wall
Dirty old town
Dirty old town

The old canal is long, relatively green, and very quiet (for London, anyway). It lead you along abandoned and not yet fully gentrified old factory buildings to the very gentrfied and busy Camden Lock Market and then to Regent's Park, which is very posh. In the end however, after Camden and Regent's Park, the canal led me to a place that for some to me rather obscure reason is called Little Venice, which is very much in West London. West London, you must know, is quite the opposite of East London where the working class, the famous cockneys and eastenders live. Here, in the Richman's Playground, I observed the following Sign of Our Times:

Reward:
Have you seen this very small Chihuahua?

I fear for the poor dog's life: London in winter is, after all, not quite northern Mexico. Sic transit gloria mundi. Amen.

The Odd English
Yesterday I made Treacle Sponge with custard for desert formyself and my flatmates, as you may or may not know, this recipe contains the magical secret substance Treacle or Golden Syrup. According to the author Terry Pratchett this substance is from the mines around Treacle Mine Road in the city of Ankh-Morpork where dwarves delve it. However, one look at the tin it comes from would suggest that the stuff is made out of lion. "Out of the strength came forth sweetness" is the motto under the depiction of what seems to be a lion. Yes, definitely a lion. But, what a strange pose it is in! It isn't dead is it? Those dots aren't flies around a rotting lion corpse, are they? Are they??

English people are sick....

Edinburgh.
Dear reader, this weekend I spent in the capital of Scotland and a capital city it is! (pun intended) I went to visit my friend Sytze who studied and now works there and a brief walk, a 5 1/2 hour train ride and another brief walk is all that seperates our homes. I think I shall just stick to a chronological version of events, although I fear I can only get lyrical about that place. It's very beautiful. So, friday evening I arrive and after dropping off my stuff, we refresh ourselves for a moment and then meet several of Sytze's friends over a dinner of Spanish Tapas at a restaurant in the neighbourhood. A very gezellig way to start a visit, but much of the city I hadn't seen yet! This came the next day, as started pretty early (for a saturday) with a marvelously sunny walk over the Salisbury Crags (see the Google-images picture, I only took old-fashioned, analogue pictures that haven't been developped yet), part of the Holyrood park that is just outside the medieval Old Town (of which you can see the Castle if you click the picture). These crags are only one of two cliff faces in the park: we left Arthur's Seat for another occasion, apparently it takes some 2-1/2 hours to climb.. It's a wee
bit tall, you see? But anyway, forget about Hyde Park: a walk over these crags really gives you the idea of being out and away while still being in the centre of the city. Just behind the cliffs is a little lake between the Crags and the Seat where even the traffic sounds become a memory..
After this we extensively explored the ancient town formerly known as "Auld Reekie", whose air nowadays seems actually quite healthy (anything is better after High Holborn, really). We had a coffee at Sytze's favourite coffee house and a Tesco lunch and bought stuff for dinner in preparation for the first of the weekend's Big Events:

Nick Cave Concert in Edinburgh!
The Edinburgh Playhouse, normally featuring such production as "The Swan Lake" and "La Traviata" now had Nick Cave... The setting was new to me, probably the biggest they could get in town, but the concert was worth it, even though you couldn't dance! There was no opening act, there was just Mr. Cave and some accompaniment (even though the ticket said: "Nick Cave: Solo Performance", id est: no Bad Seeds), which was just as well, because it simply rocked. The man gave all, until exhaustion, it seemed. He played for an hour and a half at first, only to return for an encore of at least another 30 minutes (6 songs) and then yet another encore (Little Jane). He basically asked for that second encore: leaving an audience with such a loud, energetic, rocking song as Jack the Ripper isn't going to lead to a calm applause and then an orderly retreat to the streets. He mostly played songs from his latest proper album(s) and also from his latest B-sides and rarities collection: "The Lyre of Orpheus", "The Cannibal Song", "Henry Lee", are among some songs I remember he played, but what especially stuck was his version of "The Mercy Seat". A terribly haunting song that is...

So next day we get up a good deal later, but not too much. Sunday morning is spent in relaxation with a cup of coffee at a nice coffee house and doing some newspaper and study reading. All in preparation (gathering energy) for the second Big Event of the weekend:


Rugby: Scotland-France: 20-16 !!
I am sorry I already gave away the result, but it was quite historic: the newspapers had given Scotland practically no hope against the favourites of this year's Six Nations Cup. I learned quite a bit about Rugby in preparation for the match that we would attend with Sytze's colleague and some of last friday's friends. I know now what "tries" and "drives" are and how the scoring system works. And of course that the Six Nations is a yearly competition between Scotland, England, Wales, Ireland, France, and Italy. This weekend was the first weekend and on Saturday England had already beat Wales and Ireland beat Italy (anyone losing to Italy is a no-hoper for a couple of years to come). So, we met up with Sytze's friends in Edinburgh's West End and walked down to Murrayfield, the stadium, just like what appeared to be the rest of Edinburgh. I was quite amazed at how different the athmosphere surrounding this event was: commercialist annoyances were limited to a couple of guys and girls waving the Famous Grouse Whiskey banner, everyone was quite cheerful and French and Scottish fans mingled freely, even in the stadium they were not seperated. Any of the basic safety features we see in Soccer seem unheard of in Rugby, like a fence seperating fans from the field (or each other). And, yeah, we sat close to the field: North Side, about tens rows from the field. And North Side turned out to be the good side: after a first attack of the French Scotland immediately brought the ball close to our noses and scrambled and scrummed around a bit at about 5 metres from the line behind which they would need to touch the ball down to score five points. This they finaly managed to do after about 15 minutes in the match! 5-0! Cue for stadium to explode. After a score the team that scored gets the opportunity to try and free-kick the ball between the poles for another 3 points, an opportunity Scotland usually took, but that proved a lot more difficult for France! Anyway, France never seemed to threaten Scotland, which was not at all what was expected, so the athmosphere was excellent, although never such levels of southern exuberance were reached as at Luuk's Boca Juniores F-Side. Not quite. Still, very enjoyable, never saw so many scots(wo)men togethers (kilts and all, yes).

Anyway, tot zo ver en niet verder.

Ge'nacht