Hey look, it’s full of Canadians…

And so clean. Seriously. Everyone said Canada’s gorgeous; and quite a few people mentioned the cleanliness of it, but being here, it’s freaky-clean. It’s so nice. I just don’t see the little clumps of rubbish, the bags collected under the trees. It’s just so much cleaner than the UK.

And the trains – they’re clean too, and have two decks…. And it’s pretty. Lots of The Pretty.

So yesterday Rochelle gave me a tour of the East End of Toronto (I’m terrible at this sort of post, incidentally) – so rather than do a ‘this is where we went’ you can go look at my pictures which, obviously, wouldn’t be complete without some abandoned toronto shots. Eventually we headed over to meet up with some of Rochelle’s friends who proceeded to cook a really gorgeous dinner; in an apartment with views out over Toronto’s skyline; where I had a shockingly civilised meal and was astounded to discover another fan of Elastica. Of all places, it was a bit weird listening to music from my past – especially since I’ve only just got back into Elastica having randomly burned a CD of it to bring with me. And, yeah. Mmm. Canada keeps doing that to me, being oddly familiar.

And exceedingly pretty.

And yeah, it’s all good so far :-)

The Sunday Catch-up Post

So, it’s very strange. If I’m here, no one updates at the weekend. I go away for a weekend and have seven pages of LJ to read through. 7. Pages. Seven. Gah!

Anyway, on Friday I got home from a (shockingly useful and interesting, no really, Work Based Learning Day) during which I handed in my NP5 placement documents (I passed, thankfully; however now I’ve got 10 weeks of ‘work’ on a new ward, during which my only outcome is to not kill anybody) and struggled through shaving my legs well (as opposed to the ‘adequate’ I normally do when going swimming) and gathering together the stuffs for my trip to Rocky Horror. I even remembered to take the map, so as I could pop in at Ray’s and collect the Towbar. Of course, it being me I managed to get out the door a staggering hour later than intended (though to be fair I did spend rather longer than I’d intended at Uni / Hospital, what with popping by to greet the new ward. Of course, I neglected to ask them what time their shifts start).

Having piled stuff in the car I headed up the motorway. And for the first time in my life I am thankful to a Bentley driver, because as I was heading up the motorway the engine’d got a bit louder. Not *lots* louder, but the level of louder I associate with the exhaust manifold managing to slacken off and thus, giving the effect of hole’d exhaust. But given the fact that the exhaust I’ve got doesn’t really fit the manifold very well (for reasons I don’t understand given that it is the right part) I’ve kind of got used to this occuring.

But as I tore past the Bentley he dashed out behind me flashing his lights rather excessively; I pulled sideways, looked round as he came past and he mouthed ‘your exhausts come off’ at me. I thought ‘arse’ and made a dash for the hard shoulder. He was half right; it’d snapped. The high quality, long life, stainless steel exhaust’s snapped just in front of the rear silencer. The application of a substantial amount of force and the thing came off and was dumped, unceremoniously in the boot. I pondered for a second and decided I still had one silencer and that’s good enough for the original mog, hopped in and headed on up the motorway.

And hit traffic. I’d planned to nip by Ray’s on Friday… but this was clearly a flawed plan; insofar as if I ‘nipped’ by Ray’s then I’d not get to Chrissy’s until after we were s’posed to leave. In fact, given the traffic I was encountering getting to Chrissy’s in time to leave would be hard anyway. Fortunately, I have a plan for moments like this… “Drive faster”.

So, yes, ignoring the near annihilation by careless lorry drivers, the near-emergency-stop to avoid becoming one with the minor and a 7.5 tonne truck, and the insane number of people convinced that being overtaken by a Morris Minor means that they must instantly speed up, pass the mog and then slow down again; ignoring all of that, I got there at ten past 6. A mere 1.5 hours later than intended.

I flumped into a chair and Chrissy offered me a tea. When she came back I queried when we had to leave. A quick check of the time table and the discovery was made that ‘in about 20 minutes’ was the optimum (*only*) time to leave if we were to make it to London in time. Thankfully I’m pretty quick at getting a basque on, although the stockings really didn’t want to play. The new suspenders were a bit tight on the stockings and it took a while, but at any rate, we made it; looking something like this:

Lauren and Chrissy

Kate on a Train

So, err, yes. That’s me. On a train.

The Rocky Horror Show absolutely, totally and utterly rocked. It was such a laugh, and made me wonder why I’d left it so long to go again. Apart, obviously, from the ever present monetary issues. And it really is quite fun being a shameless hussy now and then, wandering through the streets of london in my undies. Although by the end of the day, when we got home (at 1ish, I think?) my feet were saying something quite rude about the 3″ / 4″ heels. I’d measure them but all my rulers appear to have disappeared. Anyhoo. There’s more rather random picture spam here (although only one more underwear shot, and that’s blurry). It really is random by the way, what with covering my wander round Huntingdon this morning.

So, yes, then yesterday I spent most of the day asleep; and then having woken up, wishing that I had much stronger painkillers. Eventually I downed my usual brufen / paracetamol combination, drinking lots having not helped, and started to feel remotely like some kind of human being – which meant that by the time Dr Who came on I felt human. Due to Chrissy’s NTL box having a fit of insanity we watched it in 4:3, which was very odd (no, seriously, really quite odd, it’s obviously a Widescreen program, on a widescreen telly, but the edges were being chopped off). Good episode, although very very much a second half to the first one. Probably want to watch it again with the first episode – so as to get the whole flow of it.

Eurovision came on I could eat Curry and drink Cider. Which turned out to be an excellent plan. And watching Lordi win Eurovision has got to be the Best. Thing. Ever.

They simply Rock, and I await the Arockalypse with baited breath. I also have the Lordi Album now…

Um. So. Yes. I fear I have become sick, I have the lurgee waiting with baited breath to consume me.

Anyway, so I wandered round Huntingdon this morning and took a few shots of an abandoned house. At least I think it’s abandoned. The bizzare thing is that the hedge is trimmed, but there’s no signs of use on any of the locks, and there’s lots of broken windows. So I suspect that the council may have nipped round with hedge trimmers.

And then I spent a very chilled out morning back at Chrissy’s, before piling in the car and heading back (via Ray’s, this time).

And then I got back and my PC wouldn’t boot. Yes. hal.dll was apparently missing, and there were a couple of corrupt files on the disk. Now I’ll just say this once, okay?



I shut it down, and it *dies*. Well, semi-dies. A reboot and a checkdisk and it thinks it’s okay. I await the collapse of the tower of cards with a real fear (since it’s my work machine). *sighs*.

I am starting to wonder if it’s time to start from scratch. New *everything*, because I can’t help but wonder how it’s going so badly wrong. Anyway.

Having got the machine to boot I read this. This is a very good post. You should all go and read it. Go. Now. I wish I had the skill to express thoughts this well, but she’s managed to put everything I can consider thinking about this and the related issues it conjurs up.

But then I read this; which is Awesome (no, not like a hot dog).

I think you’re sufficiently updated on my life now, so I’m going to eat food; and vegitate; because I feel rough as hell.

Abandoned Filton

So, before the Second World War there was a village outside bristol called Charlton*; it was a bit of an unlucky place really, because very close to it was the Rolls Royce Factory and Filton Airfield. Thus, during the war and the rather rapid expansion of the Airfield, Charlton disappeared under tarmac; and where it once stood a large number of RAF buildings were thrown up.

Filton Airfield still exists, serving a variety of purposes; and today my housemate went for a flying lesson. We spent some time taking photos of her taking off and landing; but even with the strict instructions on where we could and could not go (what with being in the middle of the airfield) we did manage to snap a few shots of the remains of what had been the RAF buildings in the area that was once Charlton.

I’d love to go back and get some more thorough shots; it’s all fenced off (which you can’t see in Google earth) and so we’d need (want) permission to get a proper look around.

Anyway, the shots…

Oh dear god I’m tired.

So, Friday night, I’m planning my weekend away to say goodbye to Trey – who’s heading off to climates colder and more northern – and I arrive home after my day shift to a phone call which runs thus:

Mum: “Kate… the cistern’s leaking again…. quite a lot…. do you think you could come down and fix it…”

The temporary repair I did a while back (because I couldn’t get the right bit) had finally given up – well, actually it’s given up because I replaced the ball-valve with the same type of ball valve instead of going with my (feminine?) instinct and deciding that the plumber had fitted the wrong kind before and changing to the type of valve I thought it should be.

Unfortunately I’d also agreed to collect my Victorian cistern for my new house (which I have not got) from Freecycle – before I left on Saturday – and so it was on Saturday morning that I flew out of the house and round Bristol to collect a toilet cistern. Having collected it the bloke said ‘do you want the toilet too?’ – I looked, and a Victorian toilet in *staggeringly* good condition (apart from being somewhat mud filled) became mine also. Of course, this meant that my original time saving plan was somewhat destroyed – having an *entire* toilet in the car was a bit much when travelling a couple of hundred miles.

So, I switched back, headed home (enabling me (handily) to collect my camera); unloaded the toilet and cistern and piled back in the car only to discover… a car accident.

Then I joined the M4 Roadworks queues. I got to my mums. I fixed her toilet cistern (seeing a pattern?). I jumped in the car and Continue reading “Oh dear god I’m tired.”

Abandoned Fossil Car Stuff…

Here: Horfield 2006 (and one of the centre of brizzy at the moment).

I’m dead pleased with the new camera – the light was very wintery today – very white and bright, no warmth to it. Very clean. Anyway, I took the camera and myself down to the Horfield Regeneration Project and spent a couple of hours freezing myself to death. It’s peaked at 5 degrees C, and considering there was still a good thick layer of ice on the ground – and I didn’t have my gloves on (in aid of being able to work the camera) I got really quite cold.

So anyway, there’s the photos.

I’ve been very good today too; I went to the supermarket and stocked up on veggies again; and fruit; mmyum. And then I got back and despite the fact it was fracking cold I changed the faulty shocker (now at a level of ineffectiveness rivaling most politicians) and put the new drum on – but I think I also need to adjust the handbrake cable.

There was quite a bit of swearing involved – the cutesy bit in the manual about undoing bolts and removing neglected the bit where I ended up cutting through the shock-absorber to split it enough that I could get the damn thing off the shaft. By this time I was *cold*. Not ‘a little bit cold’ but cold to the point where I could touch the cold bits of myself and think my hands were warm.

Shortly after this, after lying on the floor at probably around 3 degree C for about an hour I started to shiver, but handily I’d finished. I even topped up (read: refilled from nearly empty) the diff. As I was laying there, face in the gravel I found something funky though. I’ve got a little fossil – it looks a bit like a chunk of an Ammonite – I thought I’d dropped it back in the chunky gravel but fortunately managed to find it again. It’s not like a big bit, nor is it terribly well preserved, but it’s funky none the less and now adorns the top of my monitor – along with much else in the way of crap.

Anyway, having warmed up (several hours in front of a fan heater, multiple super-huge-mugs cups of tea) I’m now ready to celebrate my housemates birthyday.

As promised, here’s a quick shot of the picture that Rachel painted for me…

Rachel's fabby painting

I found the wood I wanted to find, I hope I’ve got enough – I think I have – so when it’s dried out fairly thoroughly I’ll start cutting it up to make the frame.

Abandoned, lots.

I did a couple of batches of abandoned places photos; so this might seem a bit disjointed (rather than me doing several separate posts I’ll break it up within this one…

Abandoned stuff

This is a shot of the statue stood in, what was presumably the car park for a restaurant (I believe) underneath and next to what was the Waldorf school (The Waldorf school appears to have been a Steiner School; the Bristol Steiner School has moved up to Cotham… incidentally). This whole area’s been abandoned since before I came to Bristol – but this area is an example of it being astounding how an huge object can be abandoned and you can completely fail to see it….

Continue reading “Abandoned, lots.”

Abandoned Wales

Okay, so these are the abandoned buildings shots from my trip to wales. There were several abandoned cars too, which I wanted to snap, but a navigation error on my part lopped out the important part of the A470 on the way back.

The image quality isn’t great, nor’s the framing to be honest. They’re quickly shot digital camera shots, quite a lot of the shot in heavy rain – some of them got deleted because the rain was so heavy you could barely make out the object being photographed!

Abandoned Wales
Near Plas Gwynant; I think. Sadly the rain made most of these photos unusable.
Continue reading “Abandoned Wales”

Bristol North Baths (Again)

Well, okay, here’s some photos. Well, quite a lot of photos:

Gallery One – these are shots taken about 2 weeks ago, interior and fire escape, with a couple of exterior shots thrown in. In one shot you can *just* make out the glass roof they’ve covered with a hideous false ceiling.

Gallery Two – these are shots taken about a few days ago and are mostly of the pump room – again though I’ve wandered off and taken some external shots, again trying to get something good of the chimney.

For those of you not sick of it….!