Drawing On Old Haunts

Happily the Millennium Gallery has begun the Friday life drawing sessions again. That allowed me to meet up with Tim Rose and have a pleasant time daubing. I always apologize to the model after the session - my efforts are often so Baconesque that any likeness is hard to discern.

The journey to the gallery was made less mundane because some activity on London Road had produced a notable police presence. Sadly, the activity seems to be the possible murder of a young man - drugs and gang involvement seems to be likely. What a civilised place we live in ...

The Indian Summer persists - delightful!

Indian Summer - Walking In The Peak Park

What a week! We've come back to a week of splendid, sunny weather.

Thursday was a beautiful, sunny, almost windless day. Being creatures of habit, we caught the 272 to Castleton and dismounted at Fox House pub. A swift half and we set off along the paths that took us along the base of Burbage Edge towards Burbage Bridge.

Crossing the road we started the slow climb to Stanage Edge where we stopped for a quick snack. The view, though grand, was marred by the haze caused by the inversion. Wandering along Stanage Edge took us to the Pack-horse Track down to The Plantation. Walking down the track and through the trees brought us to the car park where we had an expresso from the little coffee van owned by Val and Nick.

Suitably caffeinated, we walk on towards and down Birley Lane. The highland cows and their calfs standing at the cattle grid payed us little attention, as did the massive bull sating his thirst at a little stream at the side of the lane. We passed our friends' cottages and turned along the track through the fields. Passing the near derelict cottage next to the stream took us past Sir Hugh's Brookfield Manor and on, over the hilled fields, to Hathersage Village.

The deli-cafe provided an excellent pot of tea and cakes which recharged our energies. A short wait and we were re-mounted on the 272 back to Sheffield.

A day out to remember ... about twelve km ignoring the ups and downs ...

Back To Nest No. 2

After a long day, spent mainly waiting for various forms of transport, we are now, unpacked and back at our Sheffield flat. All the travel arrangements worked perfectly (touch wood or iron if your Italian). Ferry, flight, hotel, coach and a couple of taxis got us home in scheduled time. All the food along the way was excellent - what more could a vagabond want?

Stay tuned for some more detailed reports ... it's time for a kip ...

Ferrara Cathedral and Castle

We took the train to Farrara and had an interesting journey. The train stopped a few kilometers from Ferrara for about half and hour. The reason? "crazy man" was sleeping on the track! The police can and removed the sleeping idiot. You have to admit that is an unusual reason for a delay ...

The cathedral is magnificant and probably the most trompe l'oeil ed interior we've seen. The facade is quite fantastic - romanesque gone mad plus.

The castle is simply gigantic! That's all I can say that makes any sense ..

No loonies on the track going back to Venice so the train arrived on time. Quite a long day for the aged legs; about 11 hours in all.

Hot, Over-Touristed, Rubbish Art, But Still A Great Place

We've done even more artificating. It's not any surprise that most of the exhibits are, to be generous, rubbish dressed up as art. Conceptual Art is all very well if you're doing a knowledge college project, but it does wear away any patience you may have had when you enterect the sacred portals of the "Exhibition". We've given up reading the expositions on the intellectual, moral, political, economic, religious, scientific, culinary, Play Doh shaping, finger painting, non-polluting, renewable, recylcable and boring intentions of the artist ...

The Bien is far from what its title implies: Illuminating ...

Venice is just a very special place to be ...

Ho Hum, Moan, Moan It's The Biennale!

We've spent two days trawling round the major venues of this year Venice B. Yes, you've guessed right, another exhibition of someone's C .. R .. A .. P. Thank God for the Italian Pavilion at the Arsenale - as per, it had a majority of good "Art". At least this year there was a pleasing lack of placarded, unintelligible, artists' drivel. Mind you, the Conceptual Art Camp still dominates so that we were left wondering what the piles of junk were supposed to mean ...

Interestingly, Anthony Gormley and partner seemed to follow us through the Giardini exhibition with the same lightening speed ... maybe we aren't the only ones to be other than wowed by what was on offer.

Good food and a diet of various "foreign" TV news in English round off the day.

Venice In The Sun And Rain

All the travel arrangements went like clockwork, only much faster ... The flight arrived 20 mins early which allowed us to catch an earlier ferry, which in turn allowed us to hit dreamland by midnight. A total of 11 hours travelling; this included a 5 hour wait at EMA.

Sunday was spent getting set up at the appartment and buying tickets for the vaporetto and Biennale. A hot day with far too many tour groups.

We managed to visit three of the art events. The Ukrainian exhibit was excellent. The idea, size and location of the huge installation, which uses 3640000 wooden eggs, is a great example of what an installation should be.

An exhibition of Franny Bacon's drawings was also worth the effort.

Monday seems to be blighted with rain, Sue's upset stomach and loads of Chinese tourist groups. We hope their pockets are emptied before they leave ... Monday is also a day when many of the exhibitions are closed.

Let's Hope The Transport Runs ...

We're all packed and ready to go off to Venice - again. Fingers and other extremities are cross. Taxi to the station, National Express coach to EMA,  Ryan Air to Venice Marco Polo airport and ferry to Venice Arsenale. It's exciting, but we still hold our breath ...

Goodbye Mr Flint

A sad yesterday, but it comes to us all. Mr Flint, our dear, sheep chasing, football chewing and biscuit munching friend, came to the end of his 20 year romp.

Goodbye Mr Flint.