A flurry of activity at work this week. And then last Monday, set off to Pondicherry on the spur of the moment. Aunt and Uncle came down from London and asked if I would join them at Pondi so minutes later, bag in hand, I'm at the door with half a tub of Sunblock on my face and oversized sunglasses.
What can I say about Pondi. Sun, Sand and Sea. It's been lovely, this mini-vacation. As usual we stayed at the quaint Hotel De L'Orient, a heritage hotel that was a crumbling fright before it was renovated into a hotel. Quintessentially french (Altho my uncle insists it has more a Spanish influence than French) it has about fifteen traditionally furnished rooms, with colonial furniture and an eclectic collection of brik a brak.
I came across a colonial furniture showroom in Pondi and purchased the two most marvelous cane and wood chairs. From the 1920s apparently and so my father promptly has a fit at the very idea of purchasing anything old. He insists on brand new. In an antique shop.
I did have my way in the end and so any moment now (Come to think of it, its been a week already.. why isn't it here) I expect my patio to be adorned with those leftover relics from the 1920s. Incidentally, those furniture fellows have agents who go around rescuing antiques from delapidated buildings and restore them and sell them. Brilliant stuff.
In other news, I have regained my will to read! Oh darling, I missed you so... Mummy will not be so neglectful in future *gently strokes the spine of her moroccan bound Henry James limited edition* I wonder if there is such a thing as Reader's Block. Brought on no doubt by those ghastly tabloids. Beastly things. I wonder if they've permanently damaged my brain. Not to mention fiercely offended my rather delicate and senstive literary tastes. Anyway, I have purged them with a liberal dose of Tom Sharpe. That should do the trick, I think.
Incidentally, I've placed Huxley's "A Brave New World" up up up on my all-time-favorites shelf, nestled between Anthony Burgess's "A Clockwork Orange" and George Orwell's 1984. Fine company for a fine piece of work. I am still desperately hunting for a copy of Arthur C Clarke's "2001:A space Odyssey" to call my own. I did borrow it from the BCL and read it but really, having to read a book and then give it back is like giving up your child for adoption. You must you must you must read. And all the right sort.
I watch Porterhouse Blue the other day and it's been such a long time since I actually laughed out loud while watching a film. Its this wonderful typically British satire about stuffy British traditions. If you have a DVD membership at the BCL, I urge you to borrow it and watch it! Its positively hilarious.
The other movie I watched this week was Rebel without a Cause. I knew it was a 50s classic but I really didn't expect it to be so heartwrenching and so powerful. I really can't do justice in one paragraph in a post so not going to say any more except that I was simply blown away by Dean's performance. How tragic that he died so young. Rest in Peace.
On not "Blogging"
1 month ago