A wander round East Dulwich

The Birds had a Tower guest last week; Liz's brother came to visit. For most of Andrew's stay, we exposed him to the horrors of our social circle, forcing him to reconsider his hypothetical move to London. 

On the eve of Andrew's departure, Liz had the bright idea of going to have a little look at some of the graffiti- type stuff that has cropped up around us recently.

Actually, some of this isn't that recent.....and some of it's not graffiti. Oh well.

Gate on North Cross Road.
It's not actually pink, but maybe it should be?

As above, but its actual colour, which is lovely.
Would look great in our garden.
Hint *cough* hint.

Side wall of The Bishop.
Complete with view of the men's loo.

Think this is on Frogley Road.
Will check that. 

Blackwater Street,
on the side of Mrs.Robinson's.

Again, Blackwater Street, on the side of  Mrs.Robinson's.

This one is pretty recent (we think),
kind of opposite the EDT on Spurling Road.

There are more bits on and around Lordship Lane, but for some reason Liz's camera stopped working properly at this point. Minor panic ensued. Wine was required. Camera remains un-fixed.

Tip: if one runs dry
of wine,
beer in a knickerbocker
glory glass has
(almost) the same effect.

Much love,

Liz xXx and Laura X

New shit that came to light

Crap. This is the only word that can describe our blogging efforts recently. This may be because the sun keeps making fleeting appearances and everybody knows that when the sun is out, it is our human duty to drink as much alcohol as possible. So, this is a record of our human duties this week, from top left: Liz and a White Russian, cocktails at Seven, beer in the grass, cider on a table, Mexican mezcal, Aperol, the most confusing corkscrew in the world, the most confusing corkscrew in the world in action and consequence of using the most confusing corkscrew in the world. 

Much Love,

Liz xXx and Laura X

Primavera

Much of the recreational time the Birds find themselves with is used doing something music related. Gigs, opera, biographies of ridiculously cool musicians and rockumentaries all feature in our 'perfect weekend' scenario. 

Because the night

The Band et al. Ruling

So, with summer approaching, you may be forgiven for thinking that we would be first at the gates for several of the thousands of festivals that seem to be appearing. Spending a few days listening to our favourite bands with our favourite people, dancing away into the wee small hours. Sounds great right? Unfortunately, the reality for most of the festivals that we have been to over the years is mud, rain, people pissing on our tent, bands that you can't hear over the crowds of drunken fools and running away from riots.

I for one thought my festival days were as distant as my early twenties.

Music events OUTSIDE?!

Of course I had not factored in the persuasive skills of my good friends Saz and Sarah when it came to ending this chapter of my life and so ended up with a Primavera Sound ticket. The idea of hanging out in Barcelona for a week was tempting and the no camping aspect of Primavera sealed the deal. Oh, and yeah, I thought the bands might be good and that.

YAY!

Leaving rainy London on a cold May morning we were upbeat, joyful and optimistic about our week in the 

Spanish sunshine. We had sunglasses, bikinis and passports. By 8pm that same day we were locked out of our apartment. 

Doing a Dylan.

Guys! It hasn't started yet.

We made it.

With the main festival not starting until the early evening, there was plenty of time for us to explore. La Sagrada Familia, Park Guell and Parc Montjuic were visited and much cafe con leche was consumed. Spending our days trecking up massive hills was only slightly regretted after spending our nights dancing on concrete. 

Guys! I've found us somewhere
to live!

Barcelona treats! Thanks Sazzie!

Something had amused us.

You, me and a bottle of....

Amusingly named cafe.

For the first evening of the festival, we made a real effort to stick together. Which lasted for most of the Savages set. After that it was was every woman (or Mark) for themselves. We were all armed with band lists, maps and a vague plan to meet under a beacon/moon/orb thing that we were quite partial to.

Light up move-y sign.

Meet at the
beacon.

In a crowd.

I'm not even going to attempt to review the bands we saw. They were all awesome - the festival gave very generous sets and the sound quality was superb (even if that beardy bloke at Four Tet disagreed). I have provided a very crude overview of who and what we saw in pictorial form.

Thursday.

Friday.

Saturday.

Of course, I will provide a list of my personal highlights:

• Damian Abraham (Fucked Up) attempting to hug every member of the audience - and his assigned security who evidently clocked off moments after his epic meet and greet started.
• Four Tet and his little red rucksack. 
• The Breeders - you know when you think you will never see a band live, but then you do?
• Being the only girl at Neurosis.
• Nick Cave and his sexy snakey hips walking over the crowd.
• The Knife.
• Being papped for some Spanish fashion thing.
• Dancing till 5am every morning.

Hello!

The Knife.

Being papped. Thanks for holding my coat Sarah!

Wall of sound, minus creepy/murderous producer.

Oh Sarah!

Nope.

Oh Nick!

Group matador.

       

   Once the festival was over and the bones had started to heal in our feet, we headed to Stiges for a day at the beach. As one of our party is a die-hard Crystal Palace fan, we were able to live up to the Brits abroad stereotype by camping out at a beach bar to watch the play offs. Oh, and I got a bit sun burned.

Primavera aftermath.

Sun! Sea! Sand!

Happy campers.

Brits abroad.

After the obligatory raid of the local vintage shops and run-ins with various members of the waiting profession (hint - never try to mime your order through a window in the rain) it was time to leave. Sad faces all round.

Oooo sweets.

We didn't get very far.

The glee.

Street jumping Sarah.

Street jumping Liz.

The Blue period.

In London it was STILL raining. 

Lack of mojitos in the sun.

Oh well. At least I got to see iamamiwhoami the day after we got back. That was pretty good...

Jonna Lee and a light box.

Much Love and thanks to Sarah and Pip for letting me use some their aweseome photos,

Liz xXx