Brain Explosion!

Yesterday at break time this teacher struck up a conversation with me about music. He was learning saxophone and wanted to know more about chords and scales, so we talked about that for a while then moved on to other topics. I learned that he had been a fireman for 15 years, but had to stop because he has a brain tumour. We talked some more and he told me about how he liked to go to lots of gigs and always made a point of talking to the musicians after the show, getting any information he could from them.

"Oh, that's really good," I said. "That's the way you learn the most."

"Yeah, I'm really cheeky like that," he said, "I'll talk to anyone; sometimes I get lessons from them, or they introduce me to other musicians."

"I would really like to be like that", I said, "I just tend to sit back most of the time."

"Oh no, man, you've go to do it. Life's too short for that. I say, what have you got to lose, you know," he said.

"Yeah, it's a bit of a psychological glitch", I said. "Sometimes I think I need a brain transplant!"

Oh. No.

"Funny you should say that," he said.

Yes, it was funny, wasn't it.

The Streetcar Formerly Known As Desire

This is us riding a streetcar in New Orleans and having lots of hilarious fun. Helen was driving us down St Charles Ave when she spotted a streetcar approaching from a couple of hundred metres away, so she kicked us out into oncoming traffic to jump on. It was a very cool experience, and one that we got to share with Hel, seeing as every time the streetcar stopped Helen seemed to be right there in the car. And every time the streetcar moved , there was Hel traveling at the same pace alongside.



A streetcar is the only way to travel. Well, at least in New Orleans it is. It seemed like the only way to escape the humidity, traveling along in the shade with the windows open.

So, it would have been cooler to ride the Streetcar Named Desire, but unfortunately that line was closed in 1948 and replaced with a bus service. A Bus Named Desire?

Catching Up With the Candidates

Our flight back to the UK included a stop over in Washington D.C, giving me a chance to catch up with presidential hopefuls McCain, Obama and Clinton.







All three were a bit stiff in person.

Anyway, all this is not as sad as the shirts I found in the next shop - they were going at a reduced price.

Back in the UK-K-K

We got back from our tour of the USA on Sunday, and soon realised two things: 1) the London Marathon was on that Sunday; and 2) it was starting in Greenwich and Maze Hill. Perfect. So, after competing in that (and doing quite well I might add), we finally got to have a bit of a rest.

We had an excellent time in the US, and (second only to spending time with the Evans troop) New Orleans was a major highlight. It's easily one of the coolest places we've been. Even though we stayed mid-week it was still very happening. Music, soul food, southern characters, movie sets - I guess that will have to wait for ensuing posts.



This is Napoleon House in the French Quarter. It was owned by the mayor of New Orleans in the early 1800s, and offered to Napoleon as a refuge during his exile. Unfortunately, the Emperor never made it, instead choosing to die of some invasive disease elsewhere. More fool him. If he had made it, he might have been greeted with a scrumptious muffuletta served with a side of jambalaya. A very cool place, but just about anywhere seems cool in the French Quarter.

New Orleans is also a hotbed of cracked pavement. The city is built on a swamp, but surely there comes a point when you've got to say, 'that's a massive hole in the ground; we really should fix it'. That point seems to have wooshed past a while ago.







Still, while it looks dangerous, it's actually very safe; because you know it's so dangerous you're a lot more careful than you'd normally be.