Books of my year

Berlin Alexanderplatz, by Alfred Doblin.  I'd been waiting ten years to read this, since Mum gave me a copy for Christmas in 2008. Unfortunately, that edition was all in German, but it's the thought that counts, right? I finally caught up with the first English translation after it was published last year. Well worth the wade through the stream of conciousness of one Franz Biberkopf (Google translate that one,) if you go with the flow then this'll be one of the very best books you'll ever read.

Slaughterhouse Five by Kurt Vonnegut. Because there are days when I just wish I was Billy Pilgrim. An amazing literary take on what it means to be alive.

For Whom the Bell Tolls by Ernest Hemingway.  A long-sitter on my bookshelf, but I do believe that books come to you when you're supposed to read them.  Three long days in the mountains outside Segovia, Spain, explore love, war, and sacrifice. Is anything worth it, and if so, what?

Our Man in Havana by Graham Greene.  The first (but not the last) Greene novel for me, in which 50s Cuba tumbles out of every page, through the eyes of British vacuum cleaner salesman, James Wormold.  Is Greene's chaotic and comedic take on international espionage just farce, or closer to the truth than we'd like to think? Next up for me, The Comedians.

Farewell My Lovely by Raymond Chandler.  Chandler's Los Angeles is dark, gritty, lonely and unkind, but PI Philip Marlowe more than meets the challenge in his usual Bogartesque style. Something about having been to LA makes Chandler's works stand out slightly more for me.  Atmospheric.

35 going on 18

So I've hit 35, and for some reason it has been feeling a little bit like my emotions have gone into the ring with Mike Tyson. Something about the milestone has pushed me into reflection and thoughfulness, and made me more-than-usually concious of how life has played out so far. Halfway to 70 just feels like the right time to stop, take stock, evaluate, and iron out any of the remaining questions. It's pointless of course, I'm here regardless and don't think I'd have done anything differently anyway, especially now I've been married to a wonderful woman for a year, have been a homeowner with her for five years, and live a really happy and prosperous life. In line with all Archaeology graduates, I suppose I'm just prone to nostalgia and looking back - it's a character flaw, but one I'm simply stuck with.

So as it feels like a new chapter is beginning, it got me to thinking about what I'd tell my 18-year-old self, if I could grab a time machine destined for 2003. The results, unsurprisingly, revolve around people:

1.  Look after your friendships - it's easy to let them lapse, but they cannot always be salvaged when they're gone.

2.  You can love lots of different people in lots of different ways. Take good care of the ones you love.

3.  If you care about someone, let them know.

4. If something's not meant to be, it's not meant to be. Don't try to force the impossible.

5.  Be quick to apologise for the things you do wrong.

6.  Don't hold onto anger - forgiveness is your biggest healer.

7.  You'll probably get your heart broken - very few people set out to hurt you on purpose, and it doesn't mean they hate you.

8.  Love freely, completely, and with all your heart - it's the only way to hit the highs.

9. Hardly anyone will touch your life in a deeply meaningful way, so savour the moments you share with the ones that do.

10. Some people are always worth it.

Treasures of the King - Tutankhamun at the Saatchi Gallery

A happy Burgh-Day

Well first-off, hello again world! Nich About Town has been on hiatus for most of 2019, but the time has now come to foray back into the wonderful online world. Not that anybody's missed out on much of an update since last year's honeymoon, for most of our energy this year has been put into our home's building project - more the follow on that.

So to Autumn 2019, and if it's November it must be (yet another) birthday. Last year, 18 November was spent on a plane flying back from Australia, so this year, as if to compensate, Lizzie secretly booked us afternoon tea at the Burgh Island Hotel. 

So  a little bit about the history. Built in 1927 at the height of the marvellous Art Deco style, the hotel quickly became one of the most popular, a real icon of the era. Its location, oppulence and architecture lent itself to the rich and famous, with notable guests including Lord Mountbatten of Burma (last Viceroy of India); Edward VII and Wallis Simpson; Noel Coward; Agatha Christie; and Winston Churchill. 

The world may long have faded since those confident days, but the hotel appears to have lost none of its charm over the decades. Our table in the Palm Court afforded views of both the beautiful coastline, and stunning bar, stocked to the rafters with every conceivable liquor. Tea, as expected, was top-notch; tasty scones with champagne strawberry jam and cream, sandwiches, cakes, a sumptuous spiced pumpkin creme brulee, and a choice of cocktail on arrival. Well, why not...

All-in-all a lovely place to while away a birthday afternoon, in a place that takes you 90 years back, and a thousand miles away from anywhere. Thanks Lizzie!