My god Greenwich is cute. Described as both a must-see for tourists whilst simultaneously slated as a terrible tourist destination by indecisive people, its a beautiful village. I loved the obsession with selling ‘Traditional British Food’. We sweated about gobbling chips and chinese food in the sunshine and followed it up with ice cream, and then attempted to launch our food-filled selves up a hill (this occurred in stages).

We stopped halfway up the hill to the observatory and somewhat famous meantime line. Looking at the pointy towers of canary wharf looks brilliant, and makes you realise how both central and distant you are at once.

This weekend was Shoreditch Festival. Mysteriously, whilst taking place at Hoxton – a name I associate with the bar & grill – it wasn’t the skinny-trousered meme-fest I was expecting. This may be because I’m a South London snob. It actually reminded me of a very British fete from my childhood, despite the lack of school field.

The weekend threw rain and bright sun at us, and so it was spent jumping under a huge umbrella every ten minutes. Still, stretching along the canal was beautiful. I think the best part was alongside Punch and Judy that ran about, with small children smacking his rear with a baton, was the man dressed as a policeman with ‘Politeman’ on his back. “Go away” he barked at me.

Here’s some photos, though few the actual Festival itself. The canal was too exciting I’m afraid.

A new sort of river boat.

The Victoria & Albert museum held a three day Web Weekend this weekend, a unique way to promote their new website. The V&A building is beautiful and I love the way that everything is spaced out just-so for strolling around and casually peering at everything. We dropped into a badge making session where we were taught a speedy introduction to processing, and muddled about making shapes. Here’s a few shots.

As usual I got caught up moving little circles backwards and forth, and changing colours before remembering an idea for a design would have been helpful. By this point Mike had made a Domo and I set about turning my collection of circles into a little outraged face. Mike managed to hit backspace and reload his page, clearing all the code. So, I curated my badge’s eyebrows and dithered about on colours whilst he started again and we finished at the same time.

Despite missing Katy Beale’s Culture Hack and Chromaroma it was a lovely little event. I should probably check out their website now..

I love the V&A buildings. The sun popped out and standing by the big paddling pool centre in the courtyard was beautiful. I looked at the building and Mike went to play with the fountain. “Don’t get wet!” cried a Mother to a small child. “They splash about, get wet, and then complain,” she told me, knowingly. In the background Mike made noises indicating the fountain had attacked him.

I love lecool and things like it. When you’re in a big city for the first time they’re a lifesaver, and when you’re old and jaded they help you find new things. In my spare time I edit what is essentially a Brighton version, but it seems a much easier task because in what’s still a madly busy little city there’s still less of an obscene choice of things going on. In London, I almost don’t know where to start. (Probably because I’ve lived in one for four years, and one for one month.) It’s nice to feel that someone’s doing the research for me. So yesterday we picked three things of the lecool list and went out on an adventure. At the moment I feel like there’s so much to take it, see and digest and like it all needs eating quickly and immediately. I may become at risk of indigestion. If you’ve got anything you’d recommend seeing or doing let me know.

1. Carousel Art & Craft
2. Angelheaded Hipsters Exhibition at the National Theatre (best Snowball cocktails)
3. Hunter S Thompson at the Friends Films. (We scrapped this exciting sounding venture for a poke around the tiny Curve Exhibition at the Barbican)

Mason and Taylor has reaffirmed my mostly jaded view of East London pubs in one easy go. I’m on a mission to find comfortable, wonderful, homely places that redefine my associations of London (I’ve spent too much time in wetherspoons filled with jostling men in suits, or places that are just a bit run of the mill). This is one of the places that make me realise London has so many ordinary but brilliant spots.

We popped down to the art and craft event downstairs – they hung fabric bunting across the stairs and I was a bit smitten. I may have squeaked in excitement (the craft could have been crap, and I’d still have been happy). It was lovely to poke around. It’s a small but nice space with a mix of knitted bits, feathery things and art, and was lovely to poke around. There were tables of people knitting and chatting whilst people look around their tables. The wrapping paper prints hanging from the ceiling on coat hangers decorated with small people, mixing bowls, and forests made me want to go home and find out how to make my own.

We scrapped the Hunter S Thompson ‘One for the Doctor’ event run by the People’s Picturehouse: a ‘secretive squatty cinema type event’ celebrating Hunter S Thompson, which promised themed cocktails, friendly faces, and a back-to-back projection of a Gonzo Journalist documentary and Fear and Loathing because it went past our bedtime and we’re old like that.

Instead we went to the Barbican which was holding Beat the Champ by Cory Archangel at The Curve Exhibition, a tiny commission which takes you on a journey through different gaming consoles. Essentially it’s loops of bowling games in which the player fails to score, displayed down a giant wall. Surrounded by Nintendo and Atari beeps, it’s nice but feels as though it should be part of a bigger exhibition.

And finally we headed to the official #2 on the list. I can count the number of times I’ve walked along the Southbank on one hand, and the same with the number of people I’ve done it with. I always remember Elika saying it’s one of her favourite spots and I wonder if the blue and white fairy light-lit trees and old Victorian-esque lights will feel any less special when I have walked there more than my hands and feet can count. I hope not.

The Angelheaded Hipsters exhibition has been taking place at the National Gallery. I’ve never been to the National Gallery before. There’s a lot of places I’ve never been, but it’s a lovely building – not so much in the design but in the mood inside. It’s tranquil and kind, and we discovered some of the nicest Snowball cocktails – and after leaving we dashed to a supermarket to buy Avokaat, so I’ll be making those tonight).

Allen Ginsberg’s photos of his friends, ranging from William Burroughs Patti Smith to Andy Warhol (described as ‘hipster Andy Warhol’ it took a second to remember that Warhol wasn’t always a modern art chap) is a step into stories of the past. There’s lots to look at but the younger photos resonate more, and involve you in their stories more. Perhaps because I’m the same age now, but the detail in the descriptions of each person seemed more loving, and the poses of people leaning back from tall buildings or bundled onto a sofa for a quick group shot seemed more natural and somehow, I couldn’t put my finger on, more affectionate. Perhaps because I’m the same age, or perhaps because they were the first photos we came across, but something was lovely about them. Something carefree and young and with so much to happen. And that’s a bit how I feel at the moment.

I love the zoo. Or rather, I like animals and how they look and leap around, but I am not sure what I think about animals in boxes and cages. I suspect most people feel this way, but it is good they are alive and completely wondrous to see them – endangered or otherwise – which I suppose overrides any feeling that zoos are evil places.

Paignton zoo near Exeter is lovely. It tries hard to make it like walking through natural habitats in points and does pretty well considering it’s small. The pink flamingos sat far away, with visitor paths unobtrusively close. Instead of looking into enclosures, it was more like looking into the wild. Big chunks of the zoo were like this, and I think – even if it is a giant illusion – that this must be a nicer way to live if you are an animal. (Or I’m just slapping human traits all over them.) That said, I suppose that’s close to saying that there’s a vast difference between the Truman Show and Big Brother.

Behind the camel enclosure, for example, is the back of someone’s house. It made me smile. I wonder what it is like to have a snorting camel creature just over your back fence. The camel mostly sat on the floor pouting. (I would get a trampoline and spend my time bouncing up and down to stare at it.)

I met lots of animals that seemed quite happy leaping around up and down trees, and the flamingos that flocked together, standing on one foot. They were lovely and will always remind me of a nature reserve I visited as a kid during which it rained and I took shelter under a rhubarb leaf that my memory exaggerates in size every time I remember it.

The monkeys looked wise and Lion King-like. The giraffes were tall and silently clever-looking. The Peacock looked shiny and proud.

I followed the peacock around for a bit as it roamed up and down a path. I liked how it strutted about the place – probably one of the only unenclosed animal in the place. It’s strange to think that they’re just allowed to walk about with the general public. It was lovely. Perhaps cruel people are not allowed in the zoo.

It dropped a feather and I ran about with it for a bit. I love peacocks, though only really realise it when I see them. They’re so majestic. An unoriginal word, but the way their backs shine is insanely beautiful. and the tail’s insanely impressive, and they’re so incredibly long. Having said that, I really just fall in love with the nearest animal at the zoo. They’re all so rare.

I liked all the animals that seemed content – be it the goats standing proudly on giant rocks, or the small wart-hog thing that seemed to be having lots of fun of nosing a big blue bucket about. The elephant was of course lovely but spent its time head-butting a metal bar which was a bit distressing. I wished they’d had some chap on hand loudly explaining that they were in-fact incredibly content and whilst David Attenborough hadn’t been reported as such, a large elephant past-time is walking face first into heavy objects is a true sign of animal joy.

The rhinos seemed a bit sad, but this is likely because it was their nap time and they look like they’re made of old leather rather than any innate ability to frown.

There was also a robin (or something orange which makes a fine substitute) that sat on a branch. When I was born a Robin used to hang out outside my bedroom window and my Mother made good friends with it. I have liked Robins ever since. Also they have good red tummies and look happy (as birds do) all the time, so you can’t really go wrong. I would never have birds though. A child-minder once had some in a tiny cage and they squawked when there wasn’t a blanket on the cage. It was all a bit sad.

There was a brilliant building to walk about in the zoo which was humid and filled with lots of green plants and seed trays, and colourful birds swooped down from seed plates to branches, and then back across the path to other trees. And whilst there was a tiny part of me hoping not to get shat on, it was all really really wonderful. They seemed a lot happier than any birds in cages I have met.