"For a cautionary tale, everybody cites Paul Bradley Carr" - THE SUNDAY TIMES
   

Month: June 2008 (Page 1 of 2)

London calling: farewell to the Valle

“Our battered suitcases were piled on the sidewalk again; we had longer ways to go. But no matter, the road is life.” – Jack Kerouac

It’s that time again – time to pack up the red suitcase and move on to somewhere new. Six and a bit weeks – 48 days to be exact – have passed in the Valle and our lease is at an end.

Next stop is London for ten days or so to film some interviews for the book, but also to catch up with some people I’ve missed a great deal while stuck up a mountain. After that… well, it’s too early to say. Watch this space, and all that. Read more...

Games without frontiers (with oranges)

On pain of death at the hands of RFW&N, my time in the Valle has been dominated by hard work and early nights.  And yet, somehow, amongst all the toil, we’ve still found time to have the occasional very small – and tightly regulated – bit of fun.

Take, for example, the games.

I’ve invented some brilliant games for us all to play while out here. So many in fact that last night Rob crowned me the master of games. The Gamesmaster. I couldn’t bring myself to tell him that the title had already been claimed by someone else. Read more...

Let the whoring begin

Ok, I’m back in the room1, and from hereonout things start to get really interesting.

The proofs have been read and re-read, checked for any last typos and factual errors – including double-sourcing the trickiest stuff with help my crack team of soi disant experts (/witnesses) where necessary – and as near to a final version of the thing as can ever be is now in W&N’s capable hands. Having now read my words for about the hundredth time, I know exactly how most people feel when they read them for the first. Read more...

Meanwhile, across the Internet

Blog silence ends by tomorrow, I promise. Just getting – as they say – my shit back together after a traumatic week of proof reading / changing.

Meantime, Eris has joined us in the Valle – all the way from San Francisco – and has been busy blogging her whistlestop tour of London, the Valle and beyond. Which is lucky as otherwise the adventures of the last few days – frisbees, cowboy hats, classic rock and hideously expensive cocktails surrounded by topless Eurotrash – would have gone undocumented. Read more...

Diem perdidi, motherfucker

I’m still neck-deep in these proofs – reliving the last five years of my life, in painful detail – in the space of four days.

It all got a bit much on Thursday night and I decided to get very, very drunk indeed in the Valle. The alcohol here really is exceptionally affordable and, here, the concept of ‘licencing laws’ seems as ridiculous as the idea of the TV licence seems to Americans.

You know there’s trouble ahead when you are dimly aware of ordering a entire bottle of Bailey’s at the bar and it’s only just passed midnight. I fucking hate Bailey’s. Of course, rather than providing the escape from reality I was hoping it would, the alcohol wiped out all of yesterday – unless one considers watching ‘Entrapment’ for the millionth time to be ‘work’ – and now means that I have just shy of 24 hours to get this bugger finished. Read more...

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