This weekend is a trip to Lowestoft, the town where I was born and raised to the age of 18 when university called me away. Denise and I are staying wiht my brother and his family in their guesthouse by the sea-front. It had snowed on thursday night, when we got here; Lowestoft was closed. The restaurant we wanted to go to had closed at 8.30 as the staff hadn’t been able to get in. I find this hard to imagine as we made it. Today the wind blows sand and seawater into our faces as we try to run up the beach, then give up and make a tour of town instead, passing by the park where I used to walk Josie — a Jack Russel — near where my family home was, the cmetary where the family searched for my grandmother’s grave to put flowers from Mum’s funeral. This latter had been my most recent trip to the town until now. Its lovely to see Ray, Sandy, Joe Kate and Rose again, but the town itself is mine only in the sense that my family lives here.
And now its Saturday, one week to take-off for a new town and a new adventure.
Half way through this training course at Harborne Hall, near Bournville in Birmingham or, at least, deep enough in the heart of Birminghamshire to be only a bus ride from New Street. One course done and one more to go. Here’s what I have been learning…
I just found Fede’s Urban Swing report and how all the masks came about. I just don’t know what words to use to describe how happy this has made me.
London’s Swing Dancers have been my extended family for three years now. You are the most wonderful friendly, tallented and generous bunch of people I have ever met. Yes I will miss you. Thank you again for that party. I _was_ tryly flabbergasted to see all my clones when I arrived at the party. It was quite scary.
Some of you have asked where I am going, the answer is Tala, Kenya.
Here I am at Harborn Hall in Birmingham, the VSO training centre.
Im about to go for a run in 10 minutes with one of the four other volunteers in my class but first I want to say a little about the fight I mentioned in the last entry, while its still fresh in mind. I dont want to focus on the fight because the party was in all respects wonderful, but the fight downstairs was so unexpected that I feel there must be a lesson there for me if I could work out what it is.
I just came back from my leaving party at the urban bar. There is so much to tell: the masks, tha Jams, the card and the massive fight that happened downstairs while we were happily and harmoniously swinging up stairs. What a strange but wonderful place the world is. And now I must sleep.
So why am I still here typing this if I should be on my way to Urban Swing?
Because Im excited to have this web site up and running I suppose.
This is the start of Bitterjug.com, i am going to tell everyone about it starting from tonite.
If you want to know what I’m up to, this is the place to come.
I should really get some food and get ready for Urban Swing