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

Hehehe, all my dad's favourite Indian restaurants in London!

The land of the poor man's asparagus is a fine breezy place and popular too. I once saw Bill Oddie at Hest Bank. He was on bird patrol with his binoculars. And not far away on a hillside I saw Wainwright having a picnic.

Good to hear Diwana Bhel Poori is still there. I remember going there decades ago on the recommendation of a friend (Chaiwallah, who has retired from these screens to build his House in the West) and noting that while it had a queue outside, the other Indian restaurant next door was quite deserted . . . best publicity you could get. We joined the queue.

Saw a film of Andy Goldsworthy the other day. Inspiring chap! Divinely too-sane!

>> I saw Wainwright

Loudon, Rufus or Martha?

Bill Oddie is a man

Sorry Ed,
Wainwright of the Coast to Coast path and such routes. I believe he was a Blackburnian who took to long distance walking, mainly in the English Lakes, to escape from a wife with a sharp tongue and he rapidly became an icon for ramblers.
For some curious reason his forename is never uttered walking circlers.

Alfred was his first name. Those curious little books with the hand drawn sketches of paths and mountains and the longhand script describing the routes and other stuff he noticed written out around the pictures/maps. Most certainly the work of a man who was just out doing what he loved.

I was trying to be comical. Certainly that Wainwright. That Wainwright certainly didn't write a song about her father called 'Bloody Mothering hole'. Nor recreate a Judy Garland concert. At least, I don't *think* he did - although I'd certainly pay good money to see it.

(Actually, I found out earlier that their dad is playing Glasgow shortly)

I'm sloping off to Slovenia in the Morgengrau. Taking 'Catcher in the Rye' with me.

Now *that's* one I'm happy to re-read!

I just finished "The Catcher in the Rye"

Me too! I may read it again next year.

Well, arrangements are coming on well for the great Liverpool and enivirons visit. I've managed to get a sleeping bag and camp bed arranged in a corner of a mate's cellar. Forthcoming treats include a nosh at a boozer near Rishton, that's where the great Viv Richards once flung his bat, a visit to the rustic village of Chipping, and I believe also one to some dark satanic place in the Rossendale Valley.