Nicaragua, Towards and In Leon, 7 February concluded

Daisy took a photograph or two of that part of the malecon, known as Puerto Savador Allende, which we decided reminded us a little of Canvey Island.

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Then we drove on, initially to Old Leon, which is some distance from the modern town of Leon.  Old Leon is a UNESCO Heritage site, but frankly a rather sad specimin for one of those.  The site has huge historical importance, as the early colonial twin cities of Granada and Leon were pre-eminent.  But all that has been excavated so far is the shell of some 70 buildings. Even the grandest, the ruins of the old cathedral (photographed) needs a lot of imagination and artists impressions to give you an idea of what the renaissance-period city might have looked like. Add to that the intense heat and we politely chose to move on quite quickly.

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So to Leon itself, which we shall tour tomorrow and explore ourselves the nextday.  Guillermo helped us to orient the town by driving us around (it seems pretty small and walkable in the main) before dropping us at El Convento.  We have indeed been allocated a beatiful garden-view room which turns out to be lovely and quiet.

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We’re both quite tired at this juncture, so we merely sort ourselves out, arrange to have dinner at the hotel and go down for that dinner ridiculously early by our standards (just after 6:00) although our brains probably still think it is midnight.

It’s hard to describe the meal politely.  Such a beautiful location, but the lighting is bright, the air-conditioning is set to “fridge” and the music is a sort of synthesiser-thumping-bollocks-remix of 1980’s western pop songs.  The food is a selection of good ingredients thoroughly overcooked and unsubtly seasoned.  We both had a starter of prawns in basil, which Daisy followed with pork medallions in gooseberry jelly and I followed with steak and porcini.

The wine was ludicrously cheap and pretty good – we had an apperitif glass of house white each and a bottle of Trio red, most of which we’ve saved for a rainy day.  Except there almost certainly won’t be one of those,so we might just drink it during the remainder of our stay, when we’ll be dining in more traditional type places, I imagine. The whole meal came to less than $80 dollars including a hefty service charge for the comedy waiters who spoke no English and seemed entirely unaccustomed to serving wine. Janie said it reminded her of Fawlty Towers, except without the rude proprietor.

We went to bed about 8:45 so it is no surprise that we both woke up early too. We need to work on this jet lag thing.

 

 

 

Nicaragua, Managua to Leon, 7 February 2016

Our guide, Guillermo, was waiting around for us when I went down to reception ahead of Daisy.  I could very quickly tell we would all get on well.

We set off to tour Managua on our way to Leon.  First stop, Parque Nacional de la Loma de Tiscapa with its panoramic view of Managua.  We also saw the silhouette of Sandino and the Laguna de Tiscapa.

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On the way up, Daisy stopped the car in order to take a picture, only to fall foul and then eventually fair of the soldier posted near the miltary buildings to stop people taking photographs.

Then on to the Museo Nacional, near the Casa Presidencial and the ruins of the old cathedral.  We decided that my hat looked very Sandino when we were outside the museum, even down to the “bullet holes” in the crown.  

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Guillermo wanted to give us full value in there so we tried to speed him up a bit. Saw some quite interesting modern art towards the end from the Praxis movement, in particular Armando Morales.

Daisy was feeling the heat by then, so it was good news that our next stop was the malecon where we stopped at a rancho-style place for some light refreshments.  Guillermo had lemonade, I had Coke Zero and Daisy had a beer.  We all shared some fried plantain – initially a packet thing but then a dish of fresh food with cheese and cabbage salad (we abstained from the latter).

While washing my hands I made a new friend, Dennis, who was drunk as a skunk and wanted to know if I loved his country (which I said I did so far) and wanted to tell me that he loved my country, which was nice. Unfortunately, he thought my country was the USA so he seemed a bit discombobbed when I said I was from England.  He then introduced his wife, who I realised was both very good looking and extremely unimpressed by Dennis’ desire to chat with me.  I made my excuses to them both and moved on.

Nicaragua, Arrival, 6 to 7 February 2016

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6 February, rose early to catch earlyish flight.  Left home at 7:15 – same Ethiopian driver as took us to Kim and Mickey’s recently.  He’d forgotten the conversation we’d had with him that time about our visit to Ethiopia 10 years ago, although I don’t suppose he has that sort of conversation very often.

Enjoyed the benefits of the Virgin Upper Class check in and security check, then the benefits  of the lounge. Last time we were in this lounge was 9 years ago (flying Air Jamaica to Havana) and I was not too well that day; this time I was able to enjoy the benefits of the place.  Enjoyed breakfasty stuff such as yoghurt with granola and smoked salmon bagels,

Soon enough we were in the air on our way to Atlanta, where we are to pick up our ongoing flight to Managua.

Daisy tucked into the grub more than I did, having a sort of marinated beef dish, which she enjoyed.  I just had the soup and the cheese/biscuits without a main.

Daisy slept a fair bit more than I did (probably all that food and wine) but I took advantage of the time to read about Nicaragua and watch two movies; Mistress America (on Nigel Hinks’ excellent and reliable advice) and then the Minions movie (following my own heart to the animated stuff).  Both wonderful.

Change at Atlanta – the usual US nonsense of having to enter the country merely to leave it and all the paperwork and queuing that entails.  At least the officials in Atlanta seem to have been trained to try and deal with vistors nicely, rather than the “illegal migrant” treatment we experienced transiting in Miami all those years ago.

The Delta lounge was very pleasent, not least because we could enjoy a glass of wine on the sun deck, check the cricket score to discover that England won the second ODI today and try cheese grits – perhaps the blandest savoury dish in the world.

A bit of a delay for the Managua flight, despite the “on time” message right up until we went down for boarding.  In the end, about 1 hour delay but irritating and at the end of a long journey not exactly fun.  The flight was mostly/populated by US churchy-folk off to do missionary/charity work and it was clear that some of them were known to the crew. Our cabin attendant was very friendly and attentive.

We were met by Edgar who took us straight to the hotel, which seems lovely on reflection this morning, but last night seemed a bit dingy and we struggled to get a room with double bed and air conditioning that works properly,  In the end of course we achieved both.

The breakfast was a little uninspiring, not that we needed inspiration this morning.  Daisy got excited at the sight of an espresso machine much like mine, but we were told it doesn’t work so had to make do with some fairly stewed stuff.  Daisy had bread and banana, while I tried some cake and a cinnamon bun that was pretending to be Danish.  We both had a fortified pot of yoghurt made palatable with honey.

In fact, Los Robles is a beatiful hotel and we are retrospectively pleased we chose to stay locally, avoiding yet more travel late last night and providing an opportunity to see Managua and Old Leon on our way to Leon today.  Exciting prospects indeed.

Gresham Society AGM and Dinner, National Liberal Club, 4 February 2016

A convivial evening at the National Liberal Club; the Gresham Society AGM and dinner. Michael Mainelli said he was going to miss not only the pre-AGM drinks but even the AGM, so suggested that I leave the office ahead of him.  But by the time I had got there and made his excuses to everyone, he arrived; a good 5-10 minutes before the AGM started.

In the hands of Tim Connell, an AGM is neither painful nor lengthy. So there was time for more chat between the AGM and dinner. Several people were complimentary about my maiden baritone ukulele performance at December’s Gresham Society soiree, which certainly made me feel good at the end of a long day.

I sat next to Elisabeth Mainelli on one side and Noel-Ann Bradshaw from the University of Greenwich on the other side, which made very pleasant company; indeed at Gresham Society functions, pleasant company is more or less guaranteed.

The speaker was Michael Binyon, whose tales of derring-do as foreign correspondent for the times didn’t quite match Boot of The Beast (Scoop is one of my favourite novels) but raised several laughs none-the-less. A memorable tale about Messrs Foot and Healey meeting Brezhnev sticks in my mind, as does the problem of dictation down the phone line which led to the reporting of “dead sea squirrels”. What a by-gone era story that makes, although it occurred within living memory).

No doubt Michael Binyon had to dodge a bullet or two as a correspondent, but he struggled to dodge a “question-bullet” about the Times pay-wall, claiming that the iPad version of the Times is making money now.  As the economists, accountants and operational researchers on our table might put it; that depends on how you count.

I imagine that the merriment continued in the bar long after I sloped away, but at the end of a long day I decided to quit while I was still feeling very much on top.  A most enjoyable evening.

 

 

 

 

Rabbit Hole by David Lindsay-Abaire, Hampstead Theatre, 30 January 2016

We go to the Hampstead Theatre to see a preview of Rabbit Hole at the Hampstead – production details from the wonderful Hampstead website are here.

This was another sad evening at the theatre, making it four out of four for us in January 2016.  We are in the home of a couple a few months on from the tragic death of their infant son.  The ever-excellent Claire Skinner plays the grieving mother.  We also meet her husband, sister, mother and the young driver who ran over the child.  All roles were played very well indeed.  The multi-dimensional set (aren’t they all the rage these days?) was superb.

The piece won a Pulitzer when first produced and was made into a film in 2010 with Nicole Kidman, Aaron Eckert and Diane Wiest.  Neither of us have seen the film.

Presumably it has never been performed as a play in the UK.  Edward Hall likes to seek out such lost gems and he might be on to a winner with this one (it has almost sold out its run in advance), although the relentlessly sad thread that runs throughout the play might mitigate against a West End transfer.

Ed Hall himself was in the audience our night.  As indeed were John and Linda – a couple we regularly see at the theatre although we unusually hadn’t seen them for a while before tonight.  It was nice to chat with them again during the interval.

Originally we were supposed to get Alison Steadman as the mother but she pulled out a couple of months ago and we had been told to expect Penny Downie instead. We think of her as Queen Zenobia, but we are reliably informed that she is officially now “Penny Downie of Downton Abbey”.  In any case she played her irritating yet ultimately sympathetic role very well.  I could imagine Alison Steadman doing it too.

Real reviews to follow – presumably the Hampstead link – here it is again will be updated with the more favourable of those.

How I Said ‘F*** You’ To The Company When They Tried to Make Me Redundant by Rohan Candappa, Z/Yen Offices, 28 January 2016

Moncada Barracks or the old Z/Yen offices? One or the other.

Back in December, Rohan Candappa wrote to me asking if he could by any chance use the big Z/Yen meeting room on 28 January to try out his latest piece of performance writing early evening on the motley bunch of Alleyn’s alumni (I include myself in that epithet) who gather occasionally in the City for beer, curry and old times’ sake.

Strangely, Z/Yen’s big meeting room is not much used at 19:00 in the evening, so it would have seemed churlish to say no, especially when Rohan agreed to sponsor some beer and nibbles. Linda Cook, our Z/Yen practice manager, was hurriedly elected an honorary Alleyn’s alum for the evening, so the organisation of the event was practically resolved, even with John Eltham out of the country for much of January.

It felt incongruous (in a pleasant way) to have the Alleyn’s gang at the Z/Yen office for the evening. For one thing, I didn’t realise how well behaved we could be when gathered together in the right environment. There weren’t even any teachers to keep us in check.

But to Rohan’s extraordinary piece. The title basically divulges the plot. Rohan expresses in poignant terms the emotions he experienced when told that he was being made redundant. There is nothing funny about the way being made redundant makes someone feel, but the circumstances of this attempted redundancy are quite ludicrous. In the hands of Rohan Candappa, who is highly skilled at bitter-sweet humour as well as the more standard comedy variety, this sad story generated a remarkable amount of laughter. It is a very funny piece.

The humour builds once Rohan reaches the point in the story where, having had time to reflect on his seemingly hopeless situation, he decides to try and win against the odds. He initiates this twist brilliantly by telling the story of the Cuban rebels attacking the Moncada Barracks in 1953 – click here if you want to see the Wikipedia version of the story – although Rohan’s version is more pertinent to his story and far more fun.

Click here if you want to see the pictures Janie and I took of the Moncada Barracks in 2007.  Indeed feel free to hang around in Flickr looking at our Cuba pictures generally.  It’s one heck of a photogenic place.  As long as you promise to come back here afterwards and finish reading this blog piece.

Once the “fight back” part of Rohan’s story starts to unfold, the piece becomes even funnier and has terrific momentum to it. I almost felt sorry for [Insert name here] (the boss behind the attempted redundancy) and his human resources hench-woman…

…I said ALMOST felt sorry for them. Cut me some slack guys. Or say how you felt about it with your own words in the comments section. Don’t just yell at the screen.

There are precious few pieces of theatre about the workplace and even fewer good ones. With all due respect to Vaclav Havel, who wrote several absurdist pieces about work places, I have seen more than one but never got much out of those Havel plays. Indeed, the only really good play about the workplace that comes to my mind is David Mamet’s Pulitzer Prize-winning play Glengarry Glen Ross.  In an intriguing echo of Rohan’s title, btw, the film version of Glengarry Glen Ross (which is a very good movie) has the phrase “F*** You” articulated in an infeasible number of different ways for a two-syllable phrase. But I digress. My point is that the workplace is a big part of our lives but is wicked hard to turn into good drama. Rohan has succeeded in producing some very good drama indeed in this piece, which is a commendable achievement.

In short, the piece is a triumph and I really hope that Rohan progresses with it and gets it a wider audience. It is really thought-provoking as well as entertaining.

We sat in the meeting room chatting for ages after the performance; some of the group are people who have been made redundant, others of us people who have been in a position where we have dismissed staff ourselves. Everyone had experiences, thoughts and points to make. Eventually we realised that we were late for our meal and that our restaurant booking might go south unless we quickly headed south to the Rajasthan. So we migrated and continued our conversations there. A very special evening.

Yen by Anna Jordan, Royal Court Theatre Upstairs, 23 January 2016

This extraordinary play and production completed our January hat-trick of marvellous but grim plays; the first being You For Me For You by Mia Chung, the second being The Rolling Stone by Chris Urch.

Before we set off, I looked up the details on the Royal Court website and called them out to Janie.  “It won the Bruntwood Prize for Playwriting in 2013,” I said…

…”hold on a minute, I thought The Rolling Stone was promoted as having that same prize, the same year.  What’s going on?”

Turns out, this wonderful (relatively recent) Bruntwood Prize is run biennially and is awarded to four winners each time.  So they had both won  in 2013.

Yen is in some ways even more troubling than The Rolling Stone.  It feels more “on our own doorstep” (not that proximity should make the issues and human suffering any more alarming) and had extraordinary intensity and sway of emotions.

The young cast’s acting was simply superb, Ned Bennett’s directing once again takes the breath away.  In short, this play/production deserves all the plaudits and rave reviews it has already received and more besides.  You’ll find those here in the helpful Royal Court area.

Janie found this play/production so troubling she said she didn’t sleep so well that night.  Very unusual; she is pretty robust and we’ve seen a lot of troubling plays in our time.  So this is not for “people of a nervous disposition”.  But if you like your drama strong, raw and top notch, try somehow to get hold of a ticket for this one if you can.

 

Indian Lounge, Dinner With Ant Clifford, 21 January 2016

Ant Clifford and his Creative Stream Team have been partnered by a client with me and the Z/Yen team for an interesting piece of joint work.  We’ll mostly be working remotely and indeed had already made virtual progress through Skype, but Ant and I wanted a bit more face-to-face time after the first actual meeting in London.

We hatched a plan to have an early evening meal between the meeting and Ant’s 19:55 train to Sheffield.  I summarise the e-mail exchange that hatched the plan:

10 January:

Ian: What sort of food do you like?  I’ll muse a suitable venue once I know a bit more about your preferences.

Ant:I have no particular preference but love different experiences with food! Anything interesting is great!

…so much, so straightforward.  A few ideas for dining without preconditions around the Bloomsbury/Euston/Kings Cross/Clerkenwell areas start formulating in my mind.

13 January:

Ant: I’ve just realised that, with horror, I am on a gluten-free diet for 2 weeks for a…documentary!  I realise that may reduce our options significantly!

Perfectly understandable, this; happens all the time.  I often suddenly realise that someone is making a documentary about me and I’m sure most people cannot remember from one week to the next who is making what documentary about them upon which subject.  It’s hard to keep track.

Ian: Indian food is a good bet for gluten–freemen – as long as they like Indian food.  Here’s one near St Pancras, Indian Lounge, which I’ve been meaning to try as it has good reviews…

…I made a couple of other suggestions too…

14 January:

Ant:That’s great – the Indian sounds awesome!

So, Indian Lounge it was to be.  We had a really good meal, which I have reported on TripAdvisor here.  We had a great chat about all manner of subjects, from Ant’s family and interesting collection of pets/livestock, to music, not least our shared interest in baritone ukuleles, although Ant is really an accomplished guitarist/musician rather than a hobbyist/tinkerer like myself.

When the food arrived, Ant took out a packet of white powder.   “These creative types have become even more brazen as the years have gone on”, I thought to myself, trying not to look disapproving.

“The powder might or might not be gluten; it’s a double-blind trial,” said Ant, perhaps observing my expression, “shame to throw this powder all over such a nice dish. Would you mind filming me doing the sprinkling?” asked Ant. “Naturally”, I said.

The waiters seemed completely unperturbed by a diner sprinkling white powder all over their food, smiling and laughing, while another diner films the act. Perhaps it is commonplace in the Indian Lounge – we are in Kings Cross after all.

The meal was most enjoyable and the time passed quickly. A couple of times I said to Ant “keep an eye on the time”, then the third time I said, “I’m not trying to get rid of you, but there’s now only 12 minutes until your train.” Hurried goodbyes, a decision to do it again sometime and Ant dashes off for his train. Before I have even finished settling the account, I receive a reassuring text to let me know that Ant made his train just in time.

A memorable evening in many ways.

Dinner with John White at Kiru Restaurant, London SW3, 18 January 2016

I hadn’t thought about an “eating out” section of Ogblog, but after our fine meal at Kiru on 18 January, John White (of Keele and Ogblog tank top fame) e-mailed me to ask if I was going to Ogblog eating out experiences.

A fair question and I did ask for comments and suggestions.

Not quite sure how this might work for the retrospective aspect of Ogblog, as neither he nor I have kept journal notes on the places we have eaten at over the years, (in my case I have previously only done that when Janie and I travel) but I might be able to do a partial reconstruction, certainly for the last few years.

For the current and “going forward” element of the Ogblog, I think the rule will simply be that if we think the meal worthy of a TripAdvisor review, it is worthy of at least a mention and a link through Ogblog.

This meal at Kiru was certainly worthy of a TripAdvisor review – here is a link to it.

Meanwhile I shall try to draw up a list of the places we have dined in the past few years and pick his brains next time we meet on what (if anything) I/we might do on Ogblog about those.  Not that John and I are usually scratching around for things to discuss when we meet, but John has (sort-of) asked for this.

The Rolling Stone by Chris Urch, Orange Tree Theatre, 16 January 2016

We seem fated to sit next to the luvvies this year. Last week Daisy ended up with Benedict Wong sitting next to her at The Royal Court. Then earlier this week, she took a call from the Orange Tree , to see if we minded shifting up one seat on our row to make space for an actors’ seat. I’m not sure what would have happened if we had refused this request. Anyway, I ended up with half the cast sitting next to me at one time or another (not all at the same time).

Don’t let the jovial start to this posting deceive you. This was another bleak piece about troubled people in a troubled place. This time the place is Uganda and the story is basically that of a young man who gets himself and his religious family caught up in the persecution of gay people. At no point in the play would you sensibly anticipate a happy ending.

The play has won awards and is another of Paul Miller’s canny transfers from Royal Exchange Manchester, where it was deservedly very well received – see synopsis, reviews from Manchester (presumably, eventually, also from Richmond – we attended the last Oraneg Tree Preview), cast and creative credits here.

This is only Chris Urch’s second play, so his is certainly a name to look out for in future.

The title, The Rolling Stone, refers to a newspaper in Uganda that acts as a focal point for persecution by naming and shaming homosexuals.  You’d need a heart of stone not to be moved by this production and the real life plight of gay people in Uganda (and indeed many parts of the world), which this play puts under the spotlight.