London Marathon

The London Marathon is one of the highlights on my London calendar. It is the most amazing event. A huge number of runners dress in beer bottles, ballet costumes (men mainly), pooh suits and god knows what. I have seen firemen run in full gear. As if 26 miles isn't enough, imagine the extra weight and discomfort of those suits. Stood by the 16 mile mark, I watched a lot of runners struggle immensely. Striking difference between those who were clearly enjoy it and those who are just in pain. I have no idea how much was collected for charities today, but it must have been a lot. In the picture (knicked from bbc.co.uk) you see Richard Branson, and his kids Sam and Holly. If you look well you see princess Beatrice too. They were running as an 34-or-so-person catterpillar, raising money for various charities. Big cheers from the crowd when they walked past. Just made me wonder if there is anything Mr Branson can not do when he sets his mind to it.....

Summer in a bottle

Last year I missed out on Estee Lauder's summer only scent. By the time I needed a new body spray and realised how much I liked the fragrance, summer was over and it was off the shelves. When I walked into Fenwick yesterday, I bumped straight into the Estee Lauder counter. I smelled it, I bought it and today I am wearing it. It's summer in a bottle. Instant happy smell.

Oh, and the whole reason I was in Bond Street? To pick up a new Bayswater bag at the Mulberry store. For free. The bag I've had for about 1.5 years had some wear and tear that was very visible and couldn't be repaired. Warranty only lasts a year, so imagine my surprise when the store offered me a replacement bag or voucher for the original value of the bag! Customer service at its best. So happy as Larry I picked up my new bag that now sits on my couch being pretty. Just for the day though, as of tomorrow it will be my work bag, just like the previous one.

An unexpected weekend

Rent-a-deckchair
Originally uploaded by Gypsy Saskia

What my weekend should have been was afternoon tea with the relo's (including my bro who was over from DC), dinner with old work mates, beers with uni friends, brunch with the girls and a lovely Indonesian dinner with other close friends.

But that was before the vulcano errupted. I was glued to the KLM and City Airport websites but nope... No flights. Gutted. But I was going to make the best of my weekend. And man, it filled up quickly.

A work friend came round for Italian on Friday night with a gift cause I'd had a tough week at work which I thought was incredibly sweet. She hadn't had the easiest of weeks herself so we hit the cocktails and wine pretty nicely. Which didn't seem as great an idea on Saturday arvo, when my gym had organised a zumbathon. Three back to back classes. Hugely tiring but oh my god, it was so much fun. Straight from the gym to Putney Heath, to spend the rest of the arvo in The Green Man's beer garden for a mate's birthday. Pimms and lemonade and ham, egg and chips. If I can't have Dutch beer and food, I might as well go as english as possible.

And today was a me-day. The sun was out, the legs were sore. Off to Regent's Park. I am ashamed to admit that in the almost two years I've been here I had not once visited Regen'ts Park. How bloody stupid. The next friend who's visiting will be dragged there straight away. All the herons, ducks, other watery birdy thingies, tulips, magnolia's, how gorgeous. Everyone seemed happy and smiley, and it was just the most pleasant place to be.

The weekend may have been very different from what I planned, but it was one of the best this year.

Fun OD

When a weekend was so good as last, you want to make the memory last forever. Last weekend my old friend Sandra came to see me, and we just had the loveliest, most relaxing time. Nice dinners, snugged up on the couch reading, a long walk in Greenwich Park, dim sum lunch. And Enron.

The play / musical, a bit of both really. Somehow we got upgraded from limited view balcony seats to the front row. A good start. And it was incredibly well done. The decor was spot on. The cast was so good I thought I could just have a chat with the lead actor about mark to market and other finance stuff. I just completely forgot they were actors. My friend works in the sports industry and knows nothing about Enron, accounting standards and the role of the auditor, but she was equally enthousiastic about the play. Which is a big thumbs up to the writers.

Easter weekend

Spring
Originally uploaded by Gypsy Saskia

With friends everywhere between Somerset and New Zealand but not in London, my easter weekend is pretty quiet. Which is just what the doctor ordered, in between all these visits by friends and being away myself. One of my favourite me-time activities is going to Greenwich. Walk along the Thames, eat a crepe with lemon and sugar, see the museums and chill in the park. Even a grey day like yesterday couldn't stop me from enjoying myself. The daffodils a reminder that it is definitely spring, despite the weather gods having forgotten this.

Fishy Friday

A recently rediscovered old Jamie Oliver recipe. Made it last week for my friend, and will cook it again tonight. Halibut works perfectly, haven't tried any of the other fish. All it needs is a nice glass of white (in my case, d'Arenberg's Hermit Crab Viognier), a salad and a piece of nice crispy bread (Wholefood, I worship thee). The only thing missing is a limoncello to have afterwards.

1 handful of fresh rosemary, leaves picked
extra virgin olive oil
4 x 200g brill, turbot, halibut or blue eye tranches/steaks
sea salt & freshly ground black pepper
2 large unwaxed lemons, finely sliced
1 large handful of salted capers, soaked
8 good anchovy fillers
a splash of white wine or prosecco

Preheat the oven to 200c. Bruise your rosemary in a pestle & mortar to bring out the flavour. Add 6 tablespoons of extra virgin olive oil & scrunch together. Pat half of this flavoured oil round the fish, season well & put into an earthenware dish or roasting pan. Lay 4 or 5 thin slices of lemon over each steak, sprinkle over your capers & drape over the anchovies. Drizzle with remaining flavoured oil & bake for around 15 minutes off the bone or 25 minutes on the bone. Now you could splash the wine in if you like. Remove from the oven & allow to rest, like a steak for 5 minutes.

Invictus

It tells the beautiful story of the special bond between Nelson Mandela and Francois Pienaar, captain of the Bokke at the time of Mandela's presidency. Pienaar grew up in a traditional white Afrikaner family. His team mates are all white, except for Chester Williams. Most of his team mates refused to sing nkosi sikelel' iafrika when preparing for the World Cup. Slowly but steadily, the team (and the country) realise they are part of a rainbow nation. And whether is was Mandela giving them strength or something else, Pienaar leads his team to a victory in the 1995 World Cup, beating the All Blacks in the final (with a cameo by Jonah Lomu). I easily cry when it comes to sport, but this flick touched me at many times. And it brought me back to Pretoria, 1997.


The still predominantly white team had been losing match after match. That didn't stop myself and thirteen fellow students to get tickets for the Tri Nations match agains 'Straya in the stadium in Pretoria. A beautiful afternoon in August. A slightly strange afternoon activity after a morning visit to Soweto, but so be it. South Africa had to beat Australia by 31 points or so. Not very likely considering their last matches. But they won 61-22. It wasn't the result however that impressed us so much. Fourteen Dutch students in rugby stadion will sing football songs. No way around it. And who cares? Well. Some people did. The Boers from Orange Free State behind us did, to be precise. In Afrikaans they asked us if it were football songs we were singing. Followed by comments that football was for kaffers, their president was a criminal, and what have you. We were shocked rather than angry. These men probably didn't know any better, having been indoctrinated all their lives. In front of us, some of the players' parents were sat. English speaking, friendly, courteous. They seemed to enjoy our enthousiasm and provided an endless supply of tangerines, beer and biltong. A good balance with the racists behind us.

I spent three months in South Africa in '97. But that afternoon, in that stadium, summed it all up for me. And it was the beginning of a strong love for a hooligan's game played by gentlemen.