Postcard from the parterre

I'm no fan of gardening, that popular bank holiday activity. The hard work the National Trust are putting in to restore the formal parterre at Hanbury Hall is impressive though and I admired their results. With the weather as it was this past weekend, the lawns were more popular with picnickers such as me. I'd rather laze in the sun than worry about gardeners' backaches as they trimmed the topiary.

My favourite aspect of the parterre was the frilly edged petals and raspberry stripes of the tulips. And with a picnic comprised of leftovers from a Royal Wedding party, the food was fun too.

Those of us who live in flats are always appreciative of a pleasant outdoor space. The parterre was pretty, but finding a sheltered corner to spread out a rug, with a vista of mature trees, warm sunshine and a cool box packed with treats makes a bank holiday in Britain great.

Postcard from the pigeon loft

Pigeon racing is not something I knew a dickie bird about until I spent a morning on a writing workshop with the artists at Project Pigeon. The birds are nothing like their scrawny street cousins. Nor are they pets. These pigeons are intelligent athletes. And, as in any sport, there is money, strategy, suspicion, ritual and rumour: all the elements for dramatic fiction.

The fact we were sitting around a shed in a yard situated under the railway arches of inner Birmingham couldn't detract from the fact that the birds were calm company, the world of pigeon fancying is surprisingly fascinating and the sun was shining. I scribbled loads of notes and outlined the plot of a rather gentle thriller set in the world of pigeon racing. It's unlikely that book will ever be written by me, but I am thinking up ways to work a pigeon loft into other stories.

I doubt I'll be using a pigeon as a main character though. Their key characteristic appeared to be that they just want to be at home with the family, eating. While this translates into an impressive homing instinct which uses navigational skills to surpass any satnav and speed to outpace birds of prey, once they get home, all they do is sit there. It just doesn't make for a satisfying ending.

Postcard from the festivals

Springtime in Birmingham means a blossoming of arts festivals. The Flatpack film festival brought this vintage mobile cinema (22 seats and fully upgraded to digital, Dolby, etc) to my local park and used it to screen hilarious public information films about Birmingham in the 1960s. For free! How charming is that?

Also unusual and intriguing was the event I chose at the Fierce arts festival. I indulged in a walk with a difference around a museum. They put a blindfold on me. I had a guide to prevent me falling over and a soundtrack delivered via wireless headphones. The whole experience was disorienting, deep and memorable.

Next weekend is the first of the book festivals. Brummies obviously love reading so much that we're treated to multiple events. I'm showing favouritism by picking my highlight event before it's happened, but I'm looking forward to the historical fiction discussion.

We've been spoilt for choice for things to do and see. I only hope the cuts to arts funding don't mean next spring won't be as vibrant.

Postcard from the tunnel

Greenwich is famous for many reasons. Its wealth of viewpoints which showcase the beauty of London is one of them. That's not what you're seeing here. Another thing Greenwich and the rest of south east London have historically been known for is lack of bridges and poor transport links, for being the land where cabbies fear to tread because of the dearth of return fares to the West End.

Even now the DLR has arrived, the Greenwich Foot Tunnel which burrows under the Thames to link south London to the Isle of Dogs is a lifeline for commuters and provides aural delights to groups of foreign students testing out the echoes. I was lucky to catch it so deserted for my photo. Equally lucky not to be mown down by a cyclist 'not riding' their bike through it.

While central London's bridges and the planned cable car crossing to east London may deliver scenic vistas of the iconic skyline, they don't have the frisson of danger the foot tunnel delivers. You're under water down there! The work in progress to prop up the roof just confirms the potential for it to come crumbling down around your ears. Sadly the lifts are currently under refurbishment, but no flashy cable car or convenient electric train can compete with the delight of being escorted 50 feet underground by a lift attendant accompanied by fading reception from his transistor radio before you promenade under the river.

OK, so it doesn't make for an attractive postcard. Here's the view towards Docklands from Point Hill in Greenwich to make up for it.

Postcard from the Lunar Society

It wasn't the night of the full moon when I attended a Lunar Society lecture this week. The original one in the late 18th century always met on the lightest night of the month to minimise the chances of its members being robbed on their way back from an evening of stimulating debate.

This week's talk at the brightly lit Ikon Gallery took the theme of 'Heritage and the role of art in contemporary society'. It brought together folk such as a modern art curator from the National Trust (I loved seeing a big blue Jeff Koons egg in the conservatory at Waddesdon Manor last summer; sadly they didn't allow photography) and the Guardian's cartoonist Steve Bell.  The original Lunar men met in 'an age of miracles' (the Industrial Revolution - as described by Josiah Wedgwood). Imagine what he'd have thought of the pace of today's technological advancements.

So what role does art and heritage have today? As befits a good debate, there were differing views. Art allows imagination and challenges assumptions so that change can occur. Heritage (eg having a history of such things as the Lunar Society) allows change to be put in context. Both should be valued. At least that's my take on it.

And don't worry, Birmingham is now so well illuminated by street lights and monitored by CCTV that I made my way home without incident.

Postcard from a book launch

It's always good to see a friend do well; so yesterday was a treat. The Afrika Reich by Guy Saville was launched and is already attracting great reviews.

The book is a gripping thriller set in an alternative history where a Nazi empire dominates Africa. The action races along and the characters with their complex motivations and emotional baggage demand your attention.

The plush 5th View bar at the Waterstones on Piccadilly was the venue for the launch party: a suitably impressive setting to celebrate what's sure to become a best seller. I started reading on my journey home. It's a sign of a good book when you almost miss your stop because you're so engrossed!

Guy's a brilliant, hard working writer and deserves his success. Look carefully at that photo: he can even spell my name correctly!

Postcard from Charlestown

It was cool and windy in Cornwall last weekend, but bagging a bargain on last minute accommodation always gives a warm glow. I was staying up hill with a sliver of sea view so took the first opportunity I could to get down to the coast itself. And was thwarted. On arrival in Charlestown late last Thursday there was not a parking space to be had. The place was heaving.

What I didn't know was that I was visiting a film star. The Georgian harbour and resident tall ships do still work in their original capacity, but mostly they stand in for other places for filming purposes. Last week Dr Who was in town; hence the mayhem. The TARDIS had left by the time I got there next day. I'll have to watch closely to find out what planet or era present day Cornwall is thought to resemble.

That is a hint of turquoise you can make out in the sea. If the sun had only been a little stronger and the drizzle had dried up, I couldn't have wished to be transported in time.