Or: an update. Apologies for not posting anything the last week or so, I have been writing.

Mostly for Sonic Iceland, Le Cool Dublin and my, ahem, upcoming collection of stories. Stay tuned. In the meantime, here’s a new Tom Waits song. See you.

Tom Waits – Bad As Me by antirecords

91 today. Or so.

Image by IRevolt, via Kraftfuttermischwerk

“Monday a deputation from the parish of Bethnal Green waited upon Mr Peel to request that some measures might be devised to suppress the dreadful riots and outrages that take place every night in the parish, by a lawless gang of thieves, consisting of five or six hundred. The gang rendezvous in a brick-field at the top of Spicer St, Spitalfields, and out-posts are stationed to give an alarm, should any of the civil power approach, and their cry is “Warhawk,” as a signal for retreat.

On the brick kilns in this field they cook whatever meat and potatoes they plunder from the various shops in the neighbourhood, in the open day and in the face of the shopkeeper. Their outrages have been of the daring kind, there are now no less than five individuals lying in the London Infirmary, without hopes of recovery, that have fallen into the hands of the gang. Within the last fortnight upwards of fifty persons have been robbed, and cruelly beaten, and one of the gang was seen one day last week to produce amongst some of his associates, nearly half-a-hat-full of watches.[...]

It was reported, that Mr Sykes, the proprietor of the ham and beef shop in Winchester St, Hare St fields, had died on Friday in the London Hospital, of the dreadful injuries he received from the gang, but we are happy to say he is still alive. It seems that Mr Sykes had only set up in business a few days, when about eight o’clock in the evening, about twenty fellows came round his shop, armed with sticks, he suspected they intended an attack, and for security got behind the counter, when the whole gang came in, and seizing a buttock of beef and a ham, ran out of the shop. He endeavoured to prevent them by putting out his arm, when one of them, with a hatchet or hammer, stuck him a tremendous blow which broke it in a dreadful manner, it has been since amputated, and he now lies in a very bad state. The gang then went into a baker’s shop and helped themselves to bread, and afterwards adjourned to the brick-field, and ate the provisions in a very short time.

It would be too tedious to state the numerous outrages that have been committed, but there is reason now to hope, that the etsablishment of the horse patrol, and the conviction on Thursday of three of them, at the Old Bailey, for attacking and robbing Mr Fuller will be the means of routing them altogether.”

September 24th 1826

Completely nicked from Spitalfields Life, but to poignant not to repost. Stay save, London.

by zemch

The sky is as blue as I had expected. There are puffy, marshmallow clouds hanging over the mountains in the distance, and it’s hard to tell where mountains end and white stuff begins. At least it does not look like rain.

I take a sip from the beer-bottle and try to decide if I want to keep sitting here at the beach bar, listening to Italian pop songs and watch the waves inching up the pebbly beach; or if I want to discard beer bottle and flip-flops and do what I came here for: swimming in the Adriatic. The water is so clear, it’s not convincing to someone used to the slushy grey Irish Sea pestering Howth Head. Looks like a trick to me.

But then the local ladies seem to enjoy it, bobbing up and down in the water up to their hips, their skin already fried deep brown by months and months of Croatian sun.

I may even take the beer with me, sitting and sipping in the warm waters of this stoney bay in the south of Istria, like the biggest and most translucent bathtub in the world.

via broadsheet.ie

Another post in the name of shameless self-promotion. Here’s a short video of yours truly, taken at this week’s Last Wednesday Reading Series at the Twisted Pepper in Dublin. I’m reading a new (and yet unpublished) short story called ‘Dublin Bay’. The video is slightly greenish, but this only adds to the tone of the Easter Rising-themed story, doesn’t it?

Feel free to share and send around if you think I’m hot. Otherwise, feel also free to turn up at the open mic every last Wednesday of the month, it was great fun reading there. Thanks again to the good guys at Seven Towers for having me and Joe for filming.

This video here gave me a lot today: sounds and beats, images of Jerusalem and especially fuel for my wanderlust. Created by Ophir Kutiel, who combined soundclips of Jerusalem musicians with images of the city to this neat mashup. You’ll find links to all participating musicians under the Youtube-Link.

Image by yum9me

Look, look: this is how time fucks us. Thirteen days ago, I had just stuffed my bag into the trunk of the rental car and was leaving the shiny, chromed multistorey airport car park with the windows rolled down and the tank full and my mind set on the hot autobahn and the smell of the sea. And now, after only an instance, I’m standing in the same shiny, chromed multistorey car park with the windows rolled up and the tank full, and the only thing assuring me that I really left here in the first place is a piece of Croatian cheese in my bag and the smell of sweat and salt on my shirt.

Just back from holidays, my first post here is about Sanne and Bart’s nice little media empire, Spotted by Locals.

I’m writing for the very likeable Dutch couple and their Slow Travel magazine for over a year now, and recently it took off even more: thanks to SBL, I was interviewed for RTE’s (Irish television) weekly show Capital D (which you can watch here for another ten days) about the SBL IPhone app, and also have I now become a published author in one of Germany’s biggest newspapers, sueddeutsche.de. Dank u wel, Sanne & Bart!

Yours truly, talking about tarts.

From tomorrow on, I’ll be on holidays. Somewhere far away without writing about it. I may jot down some notes, though. 1,5 weeks. Offline. Only reading books, drinking wine and snoozing in the sun after snorkeling. I may also sneak in an art exhibition or two. In any way, see you in a while.