The British Summer. A veritable mountain of tumultuous weather and disappointment. Admittedly I’ve not been on here for a while and I’m now feeling the need to start up regular blogs again as I’m definitely at risk from intellectual atrophy. In short, I escaped my small home town of Keynsham, Bristol for Venice at the start of June with Gabriella before getting involved in a bit of summer work at the trendiest of trendy retail stores ‘Next’, then onto a place in Portgual named Tavira, followed by a weekend at Reading for some festival vibes, of which I’ve just returned. Here are some fisheye moments that came out reasonably well…
Venice was unreal. The architecture of the place is astounding. We stayed on the nearby Lido, which was a million times cheaper than the main tourist part of Venice. Being made up of little islands connected by marshland, it’s necessary to travel by waterbus, which went through the Grand Canal. Avoided the gimmickry of the gondolas at all costs, but I did want a blue striped t shirt.
A moped, Catholic mural and Mudances poster in the quaint Portugese town Tavira near Faro on the Algarve….Amazing food, scorching temperatures which left me sweating well into the late evening. Sitting down to meals outside in an alleyway, buskers would come along to try and get a few cheeky euros from willing tourists…Obviously we obliged, which is a shame because i wouldn’t have minded were we offered some sort of traditional Portuguese music, instead we get on two consecutive nights, a husky voiced acoustic guitarist singing Hotel California, about four times over. The most notable thing about Tavira was the dogs….The square directly outside our apartment complex would be littered with dogs, most of which had no sort of owner walking them…a strange sight to a Brit indeed.
Reading was an experience from start to finish. I was in food heaven, having a burrito and a hog roast, but to my dismay i forgot to get any corn on the cob. Drank way too much, lost gabby in Fall Out Boy only to find her sulking watching Florence and the Machine by herself…Kings of Leon were good, but moaned that we were too quiet, slightly full of it eh?! The night ended i think with me telling some stupid passer by why he’s a massive idiot for thinking John Mayer’s cover of Hendrix’s Bold as Love is worthy and even better than the original. Dear o dear.
Aside from Reading, Britain’s offered me very little this summer, yet the trips I’ve taken (despite each one being too short) have made my year…Now I’m looking forward to getting back to New Cross to start learning again.
(All images taken by Joshua Moore 2009)