h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

Hoxton and Shoreditch followed the traditional pattern - a run down down area full of relatively cheap properties, settled by either students or artists, then it starts to get a little bit trendy, then the prices go up, then it gets a little more trendy, then the prices really go up, then it turns into Hoxditch. I was there roughly around the middle of that rise - a bloke I shared a workshop with helped fit out The Bass Clef before Peter Ind opened it, but I was long gone before the likes of Paul Whitehouse moved in.

It was ever thus with trendy areas, Gosho... I only hope one day I own property in one when it happens.

Anyway, going back to an earlier point, my life was a bit like a film today.

Our garden backs on to the Kurdish Community Centre. It's never been an issue before, except when I wanted to put my hammock up and it was convenient there was a wall at the end of the garden. But it made me late for work today.

I came out of the house this afternoon to find Stanhope Gardens - my street - blocked by a demonstration that had just left the Community Centre: banners, loud hailers, flags, people in fluorescent tabards, the lot. Then they went up Green Lanes towards Manor House, shouting and hollering and waving placards demanding the release of Ocalan, who as I understand it is their leader and currently locked up by the Turks.

Not being too sure of the issues, I sort of smiled and nodded at them in a vaguely supportive way, and hurried around the side of the parade in the direction of Finsbury Park tube, because there definitely wouldn't be any buses moving for a while.

Further research has shown that Ocalan was the leader of an armed rebel group called the PKK, and was sentenced to death by the Turkish government in 1999, and only got off on a technicality - i.e. the Turks wanted to join the EU and had to abolish the death penalty.

I suppose that given that he was the leader of what was effectively a terrorist group I can't necessarily give him my unqualified point, but knowing what little I do about the Turkish government's treatment of the Kurds you've got to admit that the PKK probably had a point, whatever they'd been up to.

But it was a very odd experience, walking out of the house expecting to get the number 29 bus to Finsbury Park (there I go, mentioning it again!) and suddenly encouter a full-scale demonstration.

Also, on the way up the hill I passed a stationary bus with an advert on the side for a film called 'Two Brothers', which purports to be about the journey of a couple of tigers from somewhere to somewhere else.

Now, on the bottom of the poster, there was the traditional box with the rating in it - a 'U', as u might expect.

But there was something else in there - the wonderful phrase 'contains mild peril'. I can't even begin to tell you the number of thoughts that passed through my head in appreciation of the concept of 'mild peril' and what it might entail.

The nearest thing I could come up with is from Monty Python and the Holy Grail, when Michael Palin as Sir Galahad visits the Castle Anthrax (which as I remember it was full of beautiful young virgins demanding to be spanked) and is 'rescued' by Sir Lancelot in the shape of John Cleese. But that was 'great peril', I think. I'll have a look for the script.

Sometimes I'm so quick that I astound even myself... It was indeed 'great peril' that Sir Galahad was in:

LAUNCELOT: We were in the nick of time. You were in great peril.
GALAHAD (dragging his feet somewhat): I don't think I was.
LAUNCELOT: You were, Sir Galahad, You were in terrible peril.
GALAHAD: Look, let me go back in there and face the peril?
LAUNCELOT: It's too perilous.

They are right outside the castle by now.

GALAHAD: Look, it's my duty as a knight to try and sample as much peril as I can.
LAUNCELOT: No, no, we must find the Grail.

The thunderstorm is over. A bunch (sic) of PAGES are tethered to a tree with more MEN waiting. Their tethers are untied and the PAGES start banging away with their coconuts. GALAHAD is swept along with them as they ride off.

GALAHAD: Oh, let me go and have a bit of peril?
LAUNCELOT: No. It's unhealthy.
GALAHAD: ... I Bet you're gay.
LAUNCELOT: No, I'm not.

Well, just to bring this to some sort of conclusion for those with a mild interest in the soap opera that my life seems to be on the verge of becoming... You'll no doubt be surprised to hear that I didn't get the girl in question.

On the other hand it wasn't a total disaster, it's just that last week when we were all out together, she was with the bloke that she'd been seeing right from the start of the evening and they seemed quite couple-y and therefore I concluded that there wasn't any point wasting any more of my time waiting for them to split up.

Also, I'm pretty certain that she does have a soft spot for me and that there is something there - body language, zero personal space between us and that, plus which on the night in question, there was a good minute or so of dancing with our backsides together, wriggling away back to back, so to speak. So I've filed the whole thing away under 'future projects'.

I reckon I put up a far better showing than I usually do - last time I was single, over six years ago, in the same situation I'd have been buzzing around her desperate for her attention and probably have not been able to stop myself blurting out how great I thought she was and how much I liked her. All of which, if past evidence is anything to go by, makes one as likely to succeed with the girl in question as Crystal Palace are to win the Premiership this season.

So THAT's progress, at any rate.

I should point out, in the absence of any backstory, that she'd been seeing this bloke since before she met me and *this* time he'd been with her since the start of the evening! I don't give up that easily... Anyway, usually I'd had her to myself until he turned up later on, and it was the absence of that which made me decide not to throw any good time after bad...