A walk through South East London

This year, I have decided to wake up in London to start the new year.
And what better than taking a tour through all those south east London hills to start 2007 wisely ?

When I first lived in London back in 97, I thought this was one big flat city. I was later to discover the big smoke is actually surrounded by a crown of hills.

Streatham Hill, Herne Hill, Shooters Hill, Blackheath... that summer of 1997 now seems rather far and flat. I've actually since then only lived up on hills becoming a proper South London princess sat up on some green patch gazing over busy Central London where we sweat, work, commute and drink ourselves to oblivion.

Above, Upper Telegraph Hill, SE4


Not convinced ?


This, ladies and gentlemen, is Southwark.
Yes, Southwark council, London.

So you thought, Southwark was one big concrete stone with the likes of Waterloo, cool Tate Modern, Borough Market and gloomy London bridge platforms ?

Think again.

Nunhead cemetary, folks, very tacky Victorian.
Over the wooden "oh kiss me Darling the deads aren't watching"bench, in the distance : Saint Paul's.

Above and below, Nunhead cemetary, SE15


Still not convinced ?
Here we go...















Get it ?

Life is about going uphill and downhill after all.


Tonight's soundtrack : "Simona" Simonal (and God created Brazil)

Santa's French suicide

It's a fact : Santa's dead busy over Christmas.

Solving the candles burning trees in Germany, sorting out Red bull and other heavy energetic drinks for the raindears crew (turning into heavy boozin' half way through the journey),
answering millions of letters sent by all those snotty kids demanding I pods and other technological non sense rubbish,
beard trimming so the goddamn thing still looks presentable by December 25th GMT-12 (not even mentioning the blooming Russians dragging the whole saga up til January 7th).

I am slightly worried though, Santa is starting to give up as he reaches France in his christmassy jolly let's make the kids happy journey.


It's been 3 or 4 years now, a strange phenomenon has been spreading over the hexagonal frogland : house after house, Santa desperately trying to escape from it all.

Usually opting for window cealing, rooftops, I've even witnessed him trying to lasso some Airfrance plane flying over Parisian foie gras overdosed suburbs on its way to Charles de Gaulle (see above).

Way better than the Daily Mirror, eh ?

Season's Greetings !

Tonight's soundtrack : "the craft" Blackalicious