Joanne has a healthy 6.1 lb baby called Jessica (a great name I think). I am still kind of processing it all!
Hello World!
Tag: UK
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Jessica Hatley
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Back to London
On my way back to London …
Top deck
Reflections of the underground -
Just a Walk in the Park
Had a wee trip into town today to glance at the shops and spend some time with the girls. Grabbed some candid shots, as they simply wouldn’t stand still!
ZOOM ZOOM
Ele, wrapped up warmAnd a lovely day spent visiting Grandpa near Leicester. Oh it’s so good to see him, and he always manages to tickle me with his wit, emerging as if from nowhere. Sadly, I never remember any of his gags, but we spend most of our time rolling around laughing at and with eachother.
We even had a development of our ‘French Kiss’, which somehow morphed into including a comment about Nanny’s tongue – don’t worry.. you needed to be there. A Biddle family classic moment.
More wine for Grandpa!
The Biddle Family -
Carsten Höller – Tate 2006
I LOVE THE TATE MODERN.
Every time I go it just manages to blow me away with its scale and scope, and yet with its openness and refreshing lack of hautiness so common in modern art galleries.
I love seeing the tourists’ faces when they come upon the Turbine Hall. No doubt, they have been dragging their families from tour to museum to exhibition and you can imaging the kids whinging that they would really rather be having a Happy Meal thankyou very much. But that is all forgotten, and as the American art students studiously take notes, Grannies strain their necks and bepolonecked German art critics reflect, a dozen kids whizz around the exhibition imagining they are space fighters. This has happened three times in as many years (before with Anish Kapoor and Rachel Whitbread), and it is a credit to the curators that they can draw in such disperate groups.
This time though. This time. Wow. Never have I been challenged with such a physical, kinetic assault that at the same time piqued my engineering, art and whizz bang kiddo sensibilities. Forget all that – I WANT TO GO AGAIN!
For Carsten Höller, the experience of sliding is best summed up in a phrase by the French writer Roger Caillois as a ‘voluptuous panic upon an otherwise lucid mind’. The slides are impressive sculptures in their own right, and you don’t have to hurtle down them to appreciate this artwork. What interests Höller, however, is both the visual spectacle of watching people sliding and the ‘inner spectacle’ experienced by the sliders themselves, the state of simultaneous delight and anxiety that you enter as you descend.
One thing I love – it’s free entry and the dryest route between the South Bank and the St. ‘Blade of Light’ Pauls Bridge … take 2 minutes or 2 days, as you please
LEVEL 5
It is quite popular – the image of kids egging their Mums on to the slide, and then the shrill scream of fear and joy as they hurtle down the tube was very amusing … almost as amusing was to sit near the bottom and watch people land, their faces lit up, before they allowed themselves to compose themselves once more as they walk away. -
Hogmanay in Scotland
New Year’s Eve 2006/07 became probably the most memorable, unusual and special one on record – against odds stacked against us by a well-timed Scottish typhoon.
Princes Street was shut, and against a back-drop of cold, confused tourists, drunk revellers and whispered reports of people being hit by flying Portaloos our team gathered in the warmth of a very characterful Scottish bar. We were certainly ready to dig in for the night, but with a couple of hours to go my old flat-mate Jenny called us up and said they needed people for some bash the BBC was laying on, now the scenes of the street party had to be cancelled.
News that there was going to be free alcohol meant the decision was already an easy one for us. However, this was not going to be your common or garden Hogmanay party, but the party at the very centre of Scotland’s celebrations at Edinburgh Castle.
Our party had soldiers guarding the gates. Our party had swords and battle scenes painted on the walls. And our party combined free Champagne with national Television coverage. The magnificent seven were at the very beating heart of Scottish culture – in the front row of the crowd for the annual Hogmanay festivities. I doubt there is any point ever celebrating in Edinburgh ever again, because we have done it now. It cannot be improved or embelished in any way – next year should certainly be spent down some local pub instead.
Princes Street revellers
Umbrella graveyard
Team Hogmanay Ho! (Check the BBC wrist band bling $$)
How many megapixels has yours got?
Could this be the midnight canon?!
Jenny – the star of the night! – THANKS!
Becca gets blurry in the bar after(math)
Smooth criminal
Whoaaaaaaa!Update:
Craig’s family have seen us. His Gran punched record as soon as he saw his face. And his uncle saw us on TV while on a boat. In Sydney Harbour. In Australia.
!!!
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Cardiff with the Morgans
Much of my family lives in South Wales, and we made the journey over to see the Morgan clan and spend some time with my Grandmother. It was a really marvellous day – especially seeing baby Cerys. Gareth and Catherine have done a marvellous job so far, so you’ll have to forgive me for the following gratuitous baby shots!
Weeee!!!
Dad looks content
“The cross shaped hole!”
Ello kid
Mum laughs with the ladies in the way she knows best!
I want one of them!
Attack!
Pretty young things
With my family, it is often just best not to ask -
Up Hill and Down Long Dale
Dad and I pedalled out for our annual post-Boxing day ride. I have rarely ridden in such amazing light – the whole landscape bathed in rich sunlight as the air chilled your skin. Right up until the sun set at the top of the final descent.
Some pics:
Dad shreds the rad
Cruising down Long Dale in the Peak District
MUD
Orienteering
Dad and I in Youlgreave – the final descent was muddy to begin with, but I had to grin and bear it when I approached the gate at full speed, spraying mud and cow shit in all directions. When we reached the first pub a family came out and simply began laughing at us – rightly so. -
Welsh Rarebits
One half of my family lives in Wales, but don’t hold that against them. The Biddle unit decamped to the South, primarily focussing on good mountains, food and beer. Here are some wee piccies:
Trecking in The Brecon Beacons
Mum & Dad at one of the amazing waterfalls of the day
‘Now, the GPS says there is one more left to find today…’ – Lady Mio has the last laugh
The Welsh contingent in force (with exception to newl-wed cousins Huw and Alex … Congratulations!) -
Edinburgh Hogmanay
100,000 drunk revellers descended on Princes Street in Edinburgh for the annual Hogmanay bash, and at the last minute Phil and I decided to join them by taking the train up to Scotland. It was really worth it, since I got to see old Glasgow buddies Craig and Ali, plus Masters pals Andrew and Kyle. Plus, of course, I saw Scotland and recharged my Whiskey batteries.
The street was full of horny Glaswegian girls, drunk Aussies and high numbers of bemuzed looking Chinese visitors. Drunk Chinese conversation of course meant that I lost the group within about 3 minutes – and feverish multiplexed cell phone calls to the guys only made matters worse.
Phil and I on Princes StreetAfter the bells, we retreated to my first proper arty party in over a year and a half – a very nice reminder of life in Glasgow. I also met a nice chap who happened to be sales manager for premium Glenmorangie whiskies and I humored him through an extensive sampling session, well into the morning.
Kids – part of the installation, it seems
Craig looking pensive / drunkA stonking hangover, healed only by the MacDonalds (the only open food hole in the morning) was partially soothed by the wonderful train ride, passing by Durham, York and Newcastle – all bathed in clear winter sunlight. Something you do not get in Taiwan.
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In the Bleak Mid Winter
The mountain biking in Taiwan this past year has been one of the major highlights, and a regular feature on schedule. I started riding at about 14, and my main riding buddy has always been my Dad. Many of our most memorable rides have been found in the gap between Christmas and New Year when the Peak District seems to deliver crisp, cold, clear weather.Somewhat contrasting the sub-tropical riding of Taiwan, today was one of the coldest mountain bike rides I have ever experienced. Starting at Chatsworth House, we ascended through fields of snow and frost, with the rock-hard mud punishing any mistakes. By the top of the first climb our extremeties were aflame with cold and both of us felt nauseous as our lungs attempted to return to the car. And you know it is really cold when your water bottles freeze, dishing up rather unwelcome Slush Puppies.
You have never tasted a more welcome pint of beer and pub fireplace, I assure you.
Dad Braves the elements
Old skool bikes – the lack of suspension was a real surprise
The boys on tour