I’ve only really thought about Brussels as the much hated thorn in the side of the tabloid press. A perfect reason to visit the city for New Year. First and foremost there’s Eurostar, the king of trains that teases commuters in south London every morning of the week. It’s bigger, better looking and faster than… Continue reading Brussels for New Year
Author: Alan Coleman
Happy New Year everyone
I’ve just written some stuff about how 2004 has been a great year for us, but with recent world events in mind it all seemed a bit smug so I decided not to bother. I hope that next year the rebuilding will not be hampered by selfish western bickering about who’s paying for what –… Continue reading Happy New Year everyone
Downriver, by Iain Sinclair
Everything you do eventually comes to a stage at which there is no turning back. Running across a busy road or having a go at the staff in the Abbey National, you are committed – it is the point of no return. Throughout this book I felt that the start of every chapter was that… Continue reading Downriver, by Iain Sinclair
I hate Top Gear
I hate Top Gear. Why do I watch it? Because I hate it so much that’s why. It encompasses everything I deplore about that section of society I dislike so much in one neat package. Usually there’s a bit of good and bad in everything, but I can quite honestly put my hand on my… Continue reading I hate Top Gear
I want two seats, thank you very much
This morning 0834hrs: I board the train through the same doors on the same carriage as I do every morning on the way to work. The bloke who reads the Daily Telegraph sports section nods and smiles knowingly like he does every morning. It’s simply a nodding friendship as we have never spoken, and probably… Continue reading I want two seats, thank you very much
Abba, the music of tragedy
Im at work, its Monday morning and Jason has just put Abba on the stereo. There’s nothing wrong with that as the songs are good, it’s just that I’ve always felt that Abba is the music of tragedy. It’s the sort of thing that overpaid bankers sing at drunken Christmas parties, singing and pointing at… Continue reading Abba, the music of tragedy
The Go Team, Thunder, lightning, strike
Forget Keane and Snow Patrol and all that other do gooding Band Aidesque crap that your mum listens to. This little baby is where it’s at, okay. It has the sing a-long visual sex appeal of David Beckham celebrating an England goal, the sort that makes you leap around the front room on a Friday… Continue reading The Go Team, Thunder, lightning, strike
Leave those kids alone, Combover
I’m trying to put my finger what I find most offensive about Prince Charles most recent comments regarding young people and ambition. Initially it was anger towards the use his position as a platform from which to pass comment on our society, one to which he has never made a valid contribution and quite obviously… Continue reading Leave those kids alone, Combover
The Go Team – Thunder, lightning, strike
Forget Keane and Snow Patrol and all that other do gooding Band Aidesque crap that your mum listens to. This little baby is where it’s at, okay. It has the sing a-long visual sex appeal of David Beckham celebrating an England goal, the sort that makes you leap around the front room on a Friday… Continue reading The Go Team – Thunder, lightning, strike
We love kebabs
The worlds best kebabs are to be found at Ali Babas kebab shop on Green Lanes, Turnpike Lane. I know because I had one last night, although somehow Mandy managed to polish most of it off. The chicken donner we munched, wrapped in a round chapatti style bread instead of pitta, was probably the tastiest… Continue reading We love kebabs