Football fans

Coming home from Brussels was nearly as exciting as going out, owing to the Champions' League final that was to be played in Wembley that night. I had a couple of hours to kill before my flight home so I got off the tube in Covent Garden and walked through to Picadilly people watching as I went.

Man Utd fans were camped out in Covent Garden.

Whereas Barca fans were congregated in Trafalgar Square.

Choice of clothing in how you represented your team was amusing and I particularly enjoyed this man wearing a skirt.

The media were out too, and I watched as this Man Utd fan gave a relatively serious interview to a Spanish crew, only to have a drunk Man Utd fan wait until the very last second to be a jeering intruder in the back. 

Maternal concerns over my safety were not necessary as there was a good atmosphere between fans, as demonstated by the warm handshake below.

A handshake full of love and respect.

Before too long I was on my way to Heathrow. Imagine my shock to see this on the tube though.

All jokes aside, she was European and although I couldn't tell exactly where from my bet is Belgium.

Normally my blog would end there, but no. In Heathrow and the flight home I had two disasters.

1. I broke my brand new bottle of perfume on the airport floor when my bag of toiletries fell. No only that but the Aer Lingus staff were most unhelpful in the clean up operation and I cut my thumb. Which then became infected. Green pus. Tasty.

2. The insect bite I got on my ankle during the second night in Brussels swoll (that's not a word, but you know what I mean) up during the flight. So much so that the next day I couldn't walk on it. I even went down stairs on my butt. If you follow me on Twitter you'll know I was talking a lot about my sausage foot. This was why. It took another two days for the swelling to die down and another two weeks for the damn bite to stop itching - way over my normal insect bite healing time. During that time I did a lot of imagining of how that insect might have met his death. Falling into a vat of boiling oil was my favourite. In Christian love, of course.

Brussels baby

It's a wonder the Friends people didn't film their special in Brussels; Brussels Baby as quite the ring to it.

Anywho, much like Lyon and Strasbourg the reasons and content of my trip there are unblogable. But not the photos!

I saw this postcard on my way home. Pleased to say I  had a typical experience. Except for whatever that is  middle left.

Belgian Waffles! (I didn't eat all of these, but I could have if challenged.)

Of course we visited the European Institutions.

Ra ra Europe!

It seems to me that no matter where you are in the world, there's always an Irish pub around the corner. Except in Ireland, where we just call them pubs.

There was an important looking press conference about to take place outside. No idea what about! Don't be concerned about the rubbish, see next photo)

It's art, silly! This is a monster made from plastic bags, showing the waste that is involved in using them.

Belgium has some interesting art. And some things they think is art. Like this piece in a metro station.

I don't really know what this represents, or why there's a child's foot poking out of one end.

And of course there's the more famous example of Manneken Pis. (Click on the Wikipedia page to see him dressed up. The judo outfit is a particular favourite.)

I don't get it. Although I have seen it every time I've ever been to Brussels. Ever the tourist, me.

I like that the chocolate shops in the streets around it really capitalise on it too.

There's a reason why the original is so small. Some things you don't need to see enlarged (or made into a chocolate replica, for that matter).

Well eating and peeing is just wrong. And he'll want to be careful where that flag drapes.

We also saw the Belgian Palace. Nice.

The un-touristy view of Belgium was quite exciting too, of course. Not least because of this in a newsagents.

It must be just like Bella!

Also, Fair Trade Cola on sale in regular shops. That's something I'd like to see here.

In the train station on my way home I noticed something I hadn't really paid attention to before. People with little dogs.

This woman was in Quick (well if you're going to have fast food, best make it local) And her little dog was there too! In a restaurant (and I use that term loosely).

And then at the departure gate another one! I mean really.

So do Belgians have a great love for little dogs that they're allowed most anywhere?

Anyway, a good time was had by all. And just in case there was any doubt about the work that was done, let me show you the garden of where we were staying.

There wasn't even a pool in this place. Fa-chaa!

A plane, the president and the palace

Exam marking season now underway so what better time to blog about my trip to Brussels a couple of weeks ago?! As with Lyon and Strasbourg, these places are a bally nightmare to get to. I avoided the silly o'clock flight from Dublin and took the plane from Belfast and Eurostar from St. Pancras. Makes for a better travelling experience I thought. And I was right.

Our flight flew right over central London, and had it been a better day it would have been like an episode of The Apprentice. I first noticed when we flew right over a massive train station that looked awfully like St. Pancras, except using my London geography knowledge I knew that St. Pancras was nowhere near Heathrow. It's not, but we still flew over it and turned the wrong way to get to Heathrow. That's why I'm not a pilot. Next thing I know we're over Greenwich and Olympic Park and I was reaching for my camera!

Olympic Park. You can see the stadium, basketball arena, velodrome and village. Never mind those though, where's the handball arena?!

Home of 2012 Gymnastics.

Canary Wharf. I can nearly hear The Apprentice music now...bum dadum badum badum badum badum ba dum dummmm...

Right over Tower Bridge. You can't really tell except for its shadow in the Thames.

Central London. I've picked out a few highlights for you below.

I decided against annotating the plane wing and the Thames. I thought you could spot them yourself.

Whitehall, the London Eye and Big Ben.

Buckingham Palace and St. James' Park.

Finally our jaunt over the hot spots of London was over, things became more residential and less obvious. Except for this place.

The blue seats of Queen's Club!

And off in the distance, Wembley.

I feel the towers would have been harder to pick out that the big arch.

It was exciting that morning to hear that Obama was going to be arriving in Buckingham Palace. I had a few hours before my train with nothing planned. So I headed to Buckingham Palace to see what I could see.

American flags on Pall Mall for one...

and crowds were milling about.

The press porta-cabins for William and Kate were downgraded to gazebos for the President.

The little walk way you can see was left open so I, along with about twenty other people piled across the back of all their shots. I was the only one with a suitcase, however.

The BBC's Emily Maitlis was getting ready to go live.

The Household Cavalry rode past.

There were loads of cameras there. I saw them set up the one on the roof of the Palace, there were big stands and then there was this guy.

The police on duty were deliberating sketchy about where the car was going to be coming from or going to. Understandable I suppose. I had picked out a place right beside the lamp post in this shot only to decide to move closer to the gates.

I picked the wrong gates though and definitely would have been better where I was.

I, and my fellow hangers on, waited. And then we waited some more. And then a little bit more. It wasn't actually that bad, it was all good natured. I got talking to a group of American students were in London on a layover to Kenya for 12 weeks. I took their picture for them after it was all over so they have a nice group shot in front of the Palace. I'm such a friendly sort.

The finally big moment came, the cheers started and the President drove past. I wouldn't actually say I saw him so much as I saw someone waving in the back of the car. I took a video but it's a bit Jimmy White and if I were to put it on you'd really wonder if I saw anything at all. Like I said, I would have been better where I was. Oh well.

It took a while for them to let us out of the area in front of the palace. I didn't understand why. And then it became clear: William and Kate arrived. Ironically they went through the gate I was at, except I had moved to try to leave so all I saw was the car they were in. Not so successful. That said, I doubt I'll ever be closer to Obama or the Cambridges. 

Or Emily Maitlis for that matter.

Methodist Newsletters of yesteryear (Part 3)

Well, I haven't heard of any of my friendships being terminated. So that either means no one knows they are here or no one minds. Or of course, maybe they're just eagerly awaiting Part 3. Well wait no more, here is it!

Of course, I liked seeing people I know, but seeing family members was best of all! Dad and David, never having worked for the Church, didn't really feature much. Mum and me on the other hand...

Spotted: Mum (in white) at NE Synod c.1986. I knew the instant I turned the page that was my mum!

Rumour has it she taught Dennis Taylor everything he needed to know about snooker.

Then I found me!

Here's me at Soul Mates Challenge. Oh, I'm not the one with yo-yo; I'm the one sitting down.

Alright, alright, here's a proper one with me.

We had problems clapping in time it seems.

I saw a few others, but they are far too recent (2007 on) to be interesting and I don't appear to be doing anything funny, such as, oh I don't know...hula hooping.

But then I struck Methodist Newsletter gold, GOLD I tell you. Right there on a front cover from 1986 was this classic.

I got told that I look like Mowgli from Jungle Book but with a broken nose from playing rugby. Trouble is, I really can't argue with that description. (Glad the awkward growing-out-the-bowl-haircut stage was documented for all of Methodism to see.)

I remember this photo being taken. It was the only time I wore that dress (this photo makes it look good which is one small mercy). Our minister came and took the photo for us. And it took ages, like an actual age and this was the best photo he took?! Like, really there wasn't one where I looked, I don't know, normal?

It was Mark (McE) who told me I look like Mowgli. But I think that was only because I had shown him this one of his family.

This makes me feel better.

Best of all was that these two photos were side by side in the bound Newsletters. It was like an early Awkward Family Photos.com.

Methodist Newsletters of yesteryear (Part 2)

Funny adverts only took my so far in my amusement writing my dissertation. The Newsletters from the Czechoslovakian farmer years onwards were full of photos. I found it practically impossible to turn a page without looking to see who was in them. More often than not I found someone I knew!

If you worked for the Church, have been on Team on Mission or received into full membership chances are there's a photo of you in there. I laughed at it and then took a picture of it (again, just my phone, no flash, please don't throw me out of the Historical Society).

In the interests of...well humour I thought I'd share some of my finds. However, this is a bit of a risky post to make. First of all if you're not that involved in the Methodist Church you might not have a clue and be bored by it all. Or if you are, you might enjoy it or more worryingly, never speak to me again.

Let's just remember that Methodists are the friends of all and I post these photos full of Christian love.

Quite the head of hair you... all have there! And nice waistcoat! And boys, what ties!

Again, all the hair!

On the plus side, they could have used this photo when your engagement was announced.

I am stunned that I had to find out from the Newsletter of your hula hooping skills. 

>insert jokes here<

I don't even know what to say.

A haircut we're more familiar with! Kind of.

Proving that he's always been a hit with the laydeez.

Who's hiding under her fringe?!

YET with two young ministers to be.

Here's one of them again!

I love the stripy trousers!

The blonde years?

These are definitely the curtain years.

Oh young love!

Just young.

You're right that is Jenny Bristow encased by Team Barclay.

I feel like I'm back at BHS where these two ruled the school. Or so they they liked to think.

Mamma S!

I don't know, I think this photo was staged.

I doubt those of at the YET & TOM celebration night will ever forget this moment. It's good the Newsletter had their photographer there.

The boys don't look that different, but I included it because it's got Sasha the Wonderdog in it!

Check out the side burns!

This is the face that goes along with his infamous prayer voice. It's very serious.

I think it's grossly unfair to have a membership photo where you actually look good!

Knock new membership gold!

Friends of all, remember?!

[Don't worry, you'll definitely enjoy Part 3. I guarantee it.]