Autumn 2013 High Street picks

So, kiddiwinks, summer has retreated faster than a misbehaving kid at the mention of Santa, and Autumn is finally upon us. Autumn is my favourite time of year for many reasons, and I love watching changing fashions enter the shops.

My first glimpse of Autumn wear this year was the Cath Kidston bird jumper (centre) which featured in the Metro a few weeks ago. At £64 it'a way out of my price range, but it is adorable and got me looking round for other jumpers.

Thankfully, there aren't that many winter warmers around on the High Street yet (let us enjoy what remains of the summer first!). But I managed to find a few lovelies to warm my cockles until payday:

Autumn 2013 by scribbling-lau featuring a checkered blazer

Fire & Stone, Covent Garden -Review

If you're bored of the generic pizzas churned out by Pizza Express and the like, then Fire & Stone in Covent Garden may well be the place for you. Their global themed pizzas allow pizza to step away from it's Italian origins, pack up it's map and compass, and really explore the world. Take for example, The London; "Cumberland sausage, streaky bacon, chunks of roast potato with roasted cherry tomatoes and roasted field mushrooms". A stereotype, perhaps, but reading the menu feels somewhat like a static, culinary version of a trip to Disney's Epcot Centre - I was just left to hope that these pizza stereotypes were as well executed as their theme park counterparts.

The interior of Fire & Stone is an unusual one, causing me to comment that it was the most open plan restaurant I have ever been in. The combination of close proximity to other tables, and low backed chairs and benches make privacy an impossibility.

Opting to share two different starters for the maximum experience, we went for the Crispy Mushroom Strips and Arancini. Although they were served quickly, I wish I'd waited for the main. The Arancini, with it's flecks of bacon and cheese flavouring, would have left me disappointed in any other scenario, however as a bed-mate to the Crispy Mushroom Strips, it was certainly the more memorable of the two. The mushroom strips were flavourless and unforgivingly dry, and were beyond rescuing by the garlic mayonnaise dip, despite it's best efforts.

Starters unceremoniously over, it was onto the mains. I'm not normally one for fussing over menus; once I know what I want I settle for it without any backtracking or mind changing. However, in this instance, there was no one option which stood out more than the others, or, if I'm being really honest, particularly appealed to me at all. After much to-ing and fro-ing between the Florence and the Arizona, I caught sight of the Pizza Specials section, hidden in the corner of the menu, and opted for the Canberra pizza: "Roast chicken breast, garlic & rosemary potatoes, marinated mushrooms, mozzarella, sour cream and topped with sweet chilli sauce and chives."

I still wasn't entirely convinced by the presence of potatoes on pizza - a combination that occurs several times on the Fire & Stone menu- but The Boy, who is all too familiar with my whimsical ways with food, assured me that it works. He was right about the Chilli Poppers on the Chiquito's menu a few weeks previously, so I went with it.

Cautiously trying the first few mouthfuls of my pizza, I was pleasantly surprised. The generous amount of chicken was well cooked and brought out very well by the sweet chilli sauce. However, as I ventured further away from the safety of the crusts and into the unknown centre, it went downhill. I found that there was too much going on (and the potatoes were a mistake!). I am also convinced that the chef does not know what to do with a mushroom. After the disappointment of the mushroom starter, the mushrooms aboard the pizza were flavourless and slimy- I'm not sure what they'd been marinated in, but the result was as if they'd been overcooked in their own juices.

Whilst the Canberra may well appeal to those with a more adventurous palate than myself, I'll stick to a run-of-the-mill pepperoni in future. Top points for the raspberry daquiri though, and a fast and efficient service throughout.

Conclusion: If simplicity is your thing, this probably isn't the place for you, but if you prefer a more extravagant pizza, give it a go. Just don't expect good things from a mushroom.

Zorbing, zorbing, zorbing.....

Ever since I first heard the word, and subsequently found out what it meant, zorbing* has been a long-standing aim of mine (Say it many times, really fast, "Zorbing zorbing zorbing zorbing...." Cool word, huh?)

 (*For the uninitiated, zorbing is basically the act of being strapped into a large, inflatable ball, and rolling down a hill in it)

I finally got round to it yesterday, having found a rather lovely Wowcher offer which allowed two people to go zorbing for £39 - an absolute bargain!

On arrival at Pod London, we were told that our free t-shirts included in the offer weren't actually available so were being replaced with a DVD of our experience, usually worth £20 - I'd prefer a DVD to a t-shirt anyway.

Once we were signed in we were sent to await our turn on the viewing platform overlooking the zorbing run, where some teenage boys were attempting to go hydro-zorbing (similar to regular zorbing, but with water in the ball). It's not a concept that appeals to me. Surely it'd be like being in a washing machine, with the movement of the ball causing the water to hit you in the face every time you tried to catch your breath, leaving you to reach the bottom of the slope a quivering, half drowned mess? These boys in front of us were clearly having second thoughts too, judging from the girly screaming coming from inside the ball once they'd realised how cold the water was.

Eventually they got on with it and it was our turn. We were expecting a lengthy safety briefing before we were allowed anywhere near the zorbing run, but all we had to do was remove our shoes, strap on the harnesses with the cameras and hop in. 

Turns out there's no elegant way to get in! 

We were strapped in directly opposite each other, so that our cameras were recording each other, and after fastening a few straps, we were off.

The whole roll must have taken about 20-30 seconds but felt like a lot longer (in a good way, surprisingly). On reaching the bottom, we took a few moments to acclimatize ourselves to being static again, before facing the biggest challenge of all-climbing back up the stairs to the top. At this point, the effects began to kick in, and I found myself veering inexplicably off to the left when trying to walk in a straight line, my legs converted to two sticks of jelly.

The zorb run - it actually felt a lot longer when we were rolling!

The whole experience was over in a few minutes but is something I would wholeheartedly recommend, and would jump at the chance to do it again! That's another one crossed off the old bucket list. I'm now on the hunt for my next challenge!

A retrospective hiatus

Looking back over the past couple of months, it’s clear that blogging hasn’t been at the forefront of my mind. I’ve done the odd blog post here and there, but to be perfectly honest, they’ve felt quite forced. Many of them have been halfheartedly written several weeks after the event, and only then when I have downloaded photos from my camera to computer and been reminded to blog about various adventures.

Why, I hear you ask? In hindsight, there are two reasons for this – albeit unintentional- retrospective hiatus. I think my reluctance to blog has a lot to do with the large number of job applications I’ve completed (and subsequently been rejected from) over the past year since graduating. In aspiring to become a features writer, I’ve applied for many entry level writing jobs at various publications. Like I said, many I’ve been rejected from – three in particular stick in my mind, as they stated they had 670, 590 and 370 applicants respectively-, but others I’ve never heard back from, left, like many jobseekers, to assume that I haven’t been shortlisted. In short, hitting against this relentless brick wall that encircles the world of features journalism, thus far too high and too thick for me to penetrate, has left me with negative connotations of writing.

I’m pleased to say that, for the first time in a long time, I woke up this morning with an overwhelming urge to write. If you’ve never had this feeling, then I pity you, because it’s one of the best feelings in the world – I found myself in the situation where the words were forming faster than I could write them down. It was this experience that made me fall in love with writing in the first place, and it’s a relief to have it back!

The more prominent, and by far more positive, reason for my lack of blogging, is due to the presence of someone new in my life. This summer, I’ve seen more of London than I’ve seen in the last 22 years combined, and I feel like I’ve had a holiday without leaving my beloved city! I’ve done things I’ve never done before (trapezing being the prime example). In short, he’s taught me to live my life, rather than just passing through it from day to day. And as it turns out, when you’re living your life, passing quickly from one adventure to the next, there is very little time to write about these japes! I used to mull over the possibility of new experiences to the extent that I would talk myself out of them. In the past month, I’ve booked a travel writing course, a trapeze lesson, a zorbing experience and ghost tour with barely a second thought.

When I felt my writing mojo coming back to me this morning, I signed onto this blog for the first time in a while, and I could have wept with happiness at the gift waiting for me! Despite my lack of new posts, August 2013 was the busiest month traffic-wise that my blog has ever had; 2,987 of you had a cheeky read! Whilst I’ve never been a blogger who is concerned with traffic numbers and site hits, it’s massively flattering to know that so many people have even a fleeting interest in my writing, and had massively spurred me on to continue blogging with renewed vigour!

So, in short, I’m back. But if I ever go AWOL again, rest assured that it means I’m living my life, rather than just existing.

Trapezing at Gorilla Circus, Regent's Park

Swinging through the air with my legs kicking like a drowning hamster, my knuckles turning white from gripping to the metal bar which held me from the 20ft drop below, and my eyes squeezed shut to cope with the intense dizziness, it was hard to appear dignified. Yet despite my body working against me- as it so often does in these situations- I felt surprisingly elegant, swinging effortlessly(ish) above the splendour of  Regent's Park at sunset.

This isn't actually me, I just love the silhouette against the sunset colour!

Gorilla Circus hold open air trapeze classes in Regent's Park and various other locations every summer, and after two years of teasing myself, I finally signed up for a two hour beginners class. Unsure of what to expect, I poddled along after work one day, and was relieved to find nine other people in the same novice situation.

We were taken over to the practice swing first - a normal trapeze bar, suspended about 7ft of the ground with a crash mat below it (initially it was hard to know whether to be reassured or intimidated by the presence of the mat) - and were taken through the motions of getting our legs onto the trapeze swing, letting go with our hands, and then doing the reverse.

It all seems so easy with a little help!

The next (massive) step was to take this exact sequence onto the actual trapeze, at least 20ft further from the safety of the ground. The ladder of doom, as I came to call it in my head, felt like the longest ladder in the world, and the relief of reaching the top was quickly wiped out by the realisation of what was to come.

What HAVE I let myself in for?

With the help of one of the instructors, I reached one hand out for the trapeze bar, whilst clinging desperately on to safety with the other. The bar was surprisingly heavy- a shock at first, but more of a reassurance as time went on and I considered that it was responsible for preventing me crashing onto the ground below. After tentatively putting my second hand onto the bar and letting go off my last remaining link to solid ground, I was off. The aim was to lift my legs onto the bar, let go with my hands, hang from knees and then reverse. Simple, huh? NO. Not as simple as it sounds. My lack of flexibility and grace, coupled with an innate fear of knocking my teeth out with my knees saw me unable to complete this task, and crashing into the safety net into a crumpled heap.

A couple more attempts later, I was no closer to being able to achieve the desired athletic prowess, but was nonetheless enjoying the adrenalin of speeding through the air. Whilst I don't believe that trapezing is a viable alternative career move for me, should the journalism dream not work out,  I can sleep easy knowing that I have explored this avenue to its full potential.

I doubt  I will ever look anything like this elegant again in my life!

See the Gorilla Circus website for details of upcoming courses, and to book tickets.

Luna Cinema at Hampton Court Palace

As twilight fell, we strolled through the perfectly landscaped grounds of Hampton Court Palace, the rain hitting the ground so hard that it was bouncing back up to our knees, and our eyes seriously in danger of becoming acquainted with someone else's umbrella, we had to admit that it wasn't exactly how we'd imagined it.

Think "Outdoor Cinema" and it conjures up Americanised images of convertible mustangs lined up against the backdrop of a beautiful sunset, the whole scene awash with a sepia-toned romance - or perhaps that's just me taking inspiration from the film we went to see; Grease.

Needless to say, the British version of outdoor cinema is somewhat more, well, wet. After a seemingly endless heatwave, we chose the day when the deluge arrived for our inaugural outdoor cinema trip. Having settled on a spot in the vast field, overseen by the splendid buildings of Hampton Court Palace, we set about making a rainproof shelter from the resources we had to hand.

The view of the screen from our foil blanket and umbrella shelter.

A mat, a blanket, a foil sheet and a dome umbrella later, we had ourselves a decent makeshift shelter, and the film began. Haagen Dazs were giving away free ice cream throughout, and although it wasn't the weather for it, it would have been rude not to!  

A sea of umbrellas facing the screen.

An afternoon in Battersea Park

This lovely summer weather has lured me into spending more time outside, particularly in the various parks and public spaces of Old London Town, which are great places for faffing around and making the most of the weather.

Following the expedition across Hampstead Heath last week, yesterday was the turn of Battersea Park, a lovely area immediately south of the river, best known for it's zoo, to be graced with our presence. We avoided the zoo (if it's not free, we're not going in - not until after payday, anyway) and wandered around until we came across a fountain-centric splash pool, perfect for dipping our legs in and cooling down.

We stayed until our toes started to wrinkle, at which point we bounded off across the park, full of renewed vigour from the cooling effect of the water, covering what seemed like miles of fields and gardens, before we came across the Tropical Gardens, and once again sat down to rest and faff away a few minutes. I'm not sure what was particularly tropical about the gardens- even the weather had cooled down and clouded over by this point- but I'll give them the benefit of the doubt. On leaving the gardens we promenaded around many more fields before heading back to the edge of the park and walking back across my favourite bridge in London (because it is adorned with fairy lights that make sure it looks like Christmas every day.)

I love the juxtaposition between the park and the industry of Battersea power station behind it.

Little Venice - not the real thing, but not bad.

Anyone who knows me will have had at least one conversation with me which involved me uttering the words "I really want to go to Venice". Truth is, it's always been top of my list of places to visit, for reasons unfathomable. Although I've not made that pilgrimage yet, a friend - who had probably got fed up of my whining about wanting to go to Venice- recently took pity on me and arranged a trip to Little Venice, which is surprisingly situated in the heart of London, just around the corner from Paddington station.

To get into the spirit of things, we took a canal boat to Little Venice. The 30 minute journey along the Regent's Canal was lined by canal boats on either side, each more extravagantly furnished and bizarrely named than the previous. On arriving at Little Venice, where the Canal opened up into a lake (probably not the technical boating term, but it'll suffice for these purposes) we hopped off the boat and began exploring. The first thing we came across was The Waterside Cafe, a quaint cafe in a boat:

(The photo doesn't do justice to the quaintness)

  We meandered on a little further passing a few exclusive-looking restaurants - one of which, The Summerhouse, I very much intend to return to one day, when I have pennies in my pocket- before crossing over the river and walking back down the other side. Along our way, we came across London's answer to Jack Sparrow's ship, moored in the canal.

Our wandering taught us that there isn't much to actually do in Little Venice, once you've had your fill of boats and window shopping (window eating??) in overpriced restaurants. So we pottered off to the nearest restaurant we could afford (Strada), and ate Italian food until our hearts were content, all the while imagining that we were in real Venice.

Conclusion: Worth a visit for an hour or so, but not a lot to see and do. Fingers firmly crossed that the real Venice is more lively.

Photo of the day 06/06/13

Another early finish at work = another batch of animal photos from around the zoo!!

Jae Jae the Sumatran tiger is getting braver and coming face to face with the public more often (apologies for the rogue human ear in the left of the shot!)  I think I need to get me one of these snazzy newfangled cameras that automatically eradicates fences and wire!

The newest arrivals to the zoo are the kangaroos, fresh from Down Under about a month ago. Having never seen a kangaroo in real life before, they're not quite as cute as they're made out to be, but they're fascinating to watch.

Last but not least was this gorilla, chewing on her own toes as a human baby would!

Up at the O2!

Never being one to shy away from adventure, I was excited last summer to read about "Up at the O2" opening, and immediately added it to my wishlist. For the uninitiated, Up at the O2 is a walkway up and over the O2 ("Millennium") Dome in North Greenwich.

A few months after its opening (I like to give other people a chance to safety test these things first) I finally got my chance to scale the heights of one of London's most iconic structures, as a joint birthday outing between my dad and I. Due to my dad's disability, our party of four were the only ones taking part in our particular climb, which allowed us a good chance of speaking to the guides as we ascended, and meant that there was nobody to photo-bomb out pictures at the top.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. As we entered the Base Camp centre buzzing with nervous anticipation, our first task was to sign a disclaimer form - never a good thing- and watch a short safety video of things to come.

 When our briefing was over, it was time to suit up into the breathtakingly stylish boiler suits* provided.

(* I would like to take this opportunity to point out that NOBODY LOOKS GOOD IN A BOILER SUIT)

And we were off. Having spent a good half hour before leaving solid ground discussing how springy the canvas walkway was, we were surprised to find that it really was as springy as it looked! We were clipped on at all times of the ascent to a rail down the centre of the walkway, a total of about 45 minutes. As predicted from the ground, the first part was the steepest, and we were relieved to get it out of the way first. As we got further from the ground, we took a couple of breaks to change the wheelchair ropes, and to survey our surroundings, as more and more of the centre of London came into view, spotting landmarks such as the London Eye, St. Paul's, and the Tate Modern tower.

Once we reached the centre, we were able to release ourselves from the safety rail and wander freely around the viewing platform, which gave a stunning view of the twists and turns of the murky Thames below, stretching from the flood barrier out East, to the centre of the city, despite being partially obscured by Canary Wharf and the surrounding forest of towers. A quick photoshoot later, we were on our way back down the other side. Somehow I drew the short straw and ended up at the front- not a problem for the first part of the descent, but a little heart-stopping as we got closer to the ground and the gradient began to feel practically vertical!

The whole experience took around two and a half hours from start to finish, and is well worth doing for seeing London from a different perspective. It will challenge the orientation and geographical knowledge of even the most seasoned Londoner. We were lucky that we went on a day that was neither too hot nor too wet, and had clear views.