Visions of Venice

A year ago Sarah and I had an amazing week in the beautiful city of Venice to celebrate our 25th wedding anniversary. For some reason I didn't post any photos at the time but here are a few belated glimpses of that magical place...

Things I Didn't Blog About In 2018 Part Two: Doctor Who Catch-up

Sorry, 2018  -  I'm not done with you yet. In a suitably time-warped kind of way I'm still dredging you back up from the temporal vortex to try and atone for my pitiful attempts at blogging during your titular twelve months. And this, er, time I'm looking at the last six episodes of Doctor Who, starting with:

Demons Of The Punjab ( by Vinay Patel )

After the tedious Tsuranga Conundrum had driven me to distraction the previous week I was really hoping for something with some more substance. Well, any substance really. Luckily this story set during the Partition of India delivered that, and how. The Doctor and her friends travel back in time to 1947 so Yaz can meet her beloved grandmother as a young woman. Unfortunately they land right in the middle of a cataclysmic event as India is being partitioned and Pakistan created with dire and violent consequences.
This episode was one of the highlights of the series for me  -  very well scripted and acted, with a sweet love story at its heart and some suitably gorgeous visuals. Although Rosa earlier in the series had also tackled the dangers of messing with history, this story was sufficiently different to get a pass from me for that slight redundancy.

Kerblam! ( by Pete McTighe )

An episode which could very well have been titled "Kerblamazon!", this was Who-style social satire, much in the vein of Seventh Doctor stories like The Happiness Patrol or Paradise Towers. And, like those stories, it was only partly successful. The concept of dodgy goings-on in a space-based delivery company was fine, with its skewering of modern day businesses who exploit their workers and don't pay their taxes, but the execution was mostly toothless. I think it could have been much darker and sharper but it ended up being just about average, demonstrating again that the new regime are more comfortable with Earth-focused stories than with intergalactic escapades.

The Witchfinders ( by Joy Wilkinson )

Another trip into the past, in this case to 17th century Lancashire, and a village in the midst of a witch frenzy. This was a terrific episode, Doctor Who tackling tea-time Folk Horror, with some bleak, wintry vistas and a suitably chilling alien menace. It also featured two of the best guest performances of the series from Siobhan Finneran and Alan Cumming as, respectively, a witch-obsessed landowner and a very camp King James. So far in its short run the Chibnall era has seemed very squeamish in terms of horror in the subject matter but this episode went a long way to redressing the balance.

It Takes You Away ( by Ed Hime )

A very strange episode, this, which may have benefited from being a two-parter, as the story changed narrative gears at least twice in its 50 minutes. ( I hope longer stories do return in future series so we at least see the return of the show's emblematic cliffhangers. ) The Doctor and friends went to the aid of a young, blind girl trapped in a cabin in a Scandinavian forest, surrounded by monsters. Although, that's how it seemed at first. The story turned out to share some ideas with Shyamalan's The Village before developing twists and turns involving a dimensional portal, Kevin Eldon in some very Star Trek-style "bumpy forehead alien" makeup, and a sentient universe in the form of a talking frog. It was that kind of a story. The mad concepts in this episode made it very divisive but I loved the audacity of it, giving us the kind of madness only Doctor Who would dare. And there was a brief return for Sharon D Clarke, in some lovely scenes with Bradley Walsh, which added a very poignant, er, dimension.

The Battle Of Anskoor Av Kolos ( by Chris Chibnall )

The series finale which didn't really feel like a finale. Nu Who fans have become used over the last 13 years or so to epic finales where the "arc plots", be they involving a Bad Wolf or a crack in time or a returning Time Lord / Lady, all come together and hopefully tie up dangling plot threads.
( Although, in Moffatt's case, some of these threads were never tied up. Just how did Rory escape from those Silence-infested tunnels? Huh, Steve? ) This year's was more of a stand-alone with the main "resolution" being that of Ryan and Graham's relationship issues.
But, saying that, this was still an enjoyable story which saw the return of Tim Shaw, some impressive glimpses of an alien planet, complete with spaceship graveyard, and a pleasing debate on the morality of executing ( or not ) genocidal alien monsters.

Resolution ( by Chris Chibnall )

The new Year's Day special gave us a return to Sheffield and a return of the show's quintessential villains, the Daleks. Only, this time it was a single Skarosian mutant which had been entombed on Earth for centuries and, after being awoken by some hapless archaeologists, went on the hunt for a new body. This was a cracking episode, very old-school, with plenty of action, stunts and special effects and some classic confrontation scenes between the Doctor and her oldest foe, this time in armour desperately cobbled together in a scrapyard. Daleks en masse and powerful can often be boring ( which is why Davros was created ) but a lone, vulnerable Dalek is always the scariest and most dangerous. Chibnall wisely realises this and pulled out all the stops for this thrilling story. Although it was disappointing that the 21st century Who tradition of a Christmas Day episode seemed to have come to an end, this New Year's Day special is hopefully the start of a new tradition.
Of course, the biggest disappointment is that we will have to wait until 2020 before we see the next series. Where's that Tardis?

I'll leave the final words to the Doctor herself:
"Keep your faith. Travel hopefully. The universe will surprise you. Constantly."

Soundtrack: Songs In The Key Of Life by Stevie Wonder

Things I Didn't Blog About In 2018 Part One: Stones, Skids, Seaweed

Yes, it's that time of year when I look back at the previous 365+ days of my time on this planet and, without any apparent shame, post stuff that would have been more useful if actually posted during that year of which we speak. Or something. Starting with the invasion of these terrifying, tentacled creatures which brought a Cthulhu-like creeping dread to the inhabitants of the South-West of England last December...

Okay, it's actually a load of seaweed washed up at Portmellon Cove in Cornwall... but it looks pretty Lovecraftian to me. Sarah and I had a long weekend down in the nearby fishing village of Mevagissey, during which we came across all this weed which had washed up right over the sea-wall at Portmellon and onto the road. ( We also had a very good roast dinner in the local pub. Seaweed wasn't on the menu. Or the floor. )
Although the weather was mostly grim ( well, it was December! ) we had a great time down in our beloved Cornwall, in a lovely little old-school B&B, and this was the gorgeous view from the terrace outside our bedroom:

Beyond Mevagissey we took a long walk through some fields to get to the idyllic Chapel Cove, where we spent some time watching seals basking on a nearby beach. ( I didn't get any pics of this since my phone's camera wouldn't have done it justice, but I did get some nice shots of the cove itself, chapel and all. )

It was a short but sweet visit to Cornwall, book-ended by a couple of adventures on Bodmin Moor. Here's what a traffic-jam looks like near Colliford Lake:

"Get off my mmmmoooorrr!"

Elsewhere in December, things got rather loud...

The mighty Skids were playing in Bristol again, this time in a venue new to me  -  Fiddler's, a former prison (!) just outside the city centre in Bedminster. Since this was only a 20-minute walk from Sophie's house she came along with me for a night of punk rock 'n' roll. I'm not sure she really knew what she was in for...

First up were those Borrowed Time boys, bringing their distinctive brand of metalpunk to the good people of Bedminster. They've been gigging almost constantly lately and, as a result, seem to get tighter ( and louder! ) each time I see them. They played a short, punchy set which was great fun but, like the whole gig, was unfortunately over-shadowed by the death of the great Pete Shelley the previous week. BT singer Rob gave a brief but heartfelt speech about Shelley which encapsulated everyone's sadness at this great singer's untimely demise. Borrowed Time were followed by the awful, Oi!-ful Knock Off, shouting at us about beer and football in their turgid, sub-Cockney Rejects manner, which at least gave me and Sophie the chance to go and have a chat with a few friends at the BT merch stall. And then one of the best live bands around came and saved us...

The Skids are definitely on a roll after playing many, many well-received gigs up and down the country and releasing the fine new album Burning Cities. Although, apparently, they will soon be going on hiatus again as a full band and just performing acoustic sets??? No idea why. Anyway, they tore the roof off Fiddler's with a muscular, anthemic set... maybe not as jaw-dropping as when I saw them at the late, lamented Bristol Bierkeller, but damn good all the same. All the faves were there  -  Into The Valley ( of course! ), Animation, Woman In Winter, Masquerade and even a brief stab at early single Sweet Suburbia. Richard Jobson was, as usual, the focal point: whirling, shadow-boxing, singing his lungs out and telling outrageous stories between the songs. ( But, Richard... please don't attempt that Forest Of Dean accent again. It really didn't work. ) The band were on fine form, tight, enthusiastic and as loud as a jet engine. In fact, this sheer volume, coupled with the extremely boisterous crowd proved too much for Sophie ( who's more used to the more genteel surroundings of musical theatre ) and we had to sit out the end of the set, including a poignant cover of Buzzcock's What Do I Get and ( for some reason ) an impromptu cover of Pretty Vacant. Still, it had been a great gig and a chance to catch up with some mates, and Sophie and I had a good time, walking and chatting to and from the venue. ( And a nice meal earlier that night in a cool, American-style diner. )
Borrowed Time will be supporting The Skids again next month at the good ol' Gloucester Guildhall. I'll be there! Can't wait!

In other December news I turned ( New ) 52. Yep, it was time to celebrate another 12 months in this crazy old universe and we headed to darkest Wiltshire to commune with the spirits in the stones at myth-shrouded Avebury. ( How's that for purple prose? ) Here's James standing next to an ancient, craggy, weather-beaten monument. And one of the Avebury stones. ( Of course, Sarah was here too but behind the camera. )

By sheer coincidence you can see a might fine comic strip over at the multi-talented Pete Doree's Kids From Rec. Road blog which uses some of my photos from a previous visit to Avebury.
( Actually it's not a coincidence at all... ) You might want to head over there to enjoy Pete's reminiscences of the sheer terror of that legendary '70s kids' TV serial Children Of The Stones  -  you know... the one that traumatised an entire generation. Just don't blame me if you have nightmares after recalling that slice of kid-unfriendly Folk Horror. Happy Day...