Cottonopolis

Where better to spend a weekend?

A couple of weeks ago,  we were offered the chance to go to a recording of Rufinatscha’s 6th Symphony at the BBC’s Oxford Road studios and immediately looked forward to spending a weekend in a city which neither of us knew at all.  We booked our hotel – the excellent City Inn – and off we went.

The recording was terrific – it will be on Radio 3 sometime soon and on a CD as well and having listened to the existing recording whilst driving north on Friday afternoon, we both felt the new interpretation to be far more dynamic.  Good stuff!

As for the bonus of exploring the city, well, we had a great time.  Friends had recommended a restaurant for Friday evening, which looked promising and having been whisked up to the 6th floor to join the smart set in the bar, I enjoyed one of the best mojitos outside NYC.  We admired the view of the city (with Salford screened behind frosted glass!) with the occasional firework lighting up the sky.

Sadly, however, the food didn’t live up to expectation – neither ours nor that of our somewhat embarrassed young waiter, who dealt with the whole situation in a most professional manner.  He offered immediate redress in the form of complimentary desserts and coffee, in addition to the offer already made for the main course blunder…

The weather was fantastic all weekend, which made pottering about a real pleasure.  We met friends for lunch on Saturday and sat until well into the afternoon, catching up and sharing news. 

We had tickets for the theatre last night, to see Ibsen’s “The Lady from the Sea” at the Corn Exchange.  We are not theatre goers generally, so this was quite an adventure and we remembered the Corn Exchange to be rather special from a previous visit.  Whilst not exactly a bundle of laughs, we both enjoyed the play and it continues to pique our curiosity in that we have both googled to learn more about the work.

Best of all was the city itself, though.  Less than two hours drive away, it’s hard to understand why we haven’t spent longer here before.  For sure, we’ve passed through, we’ve made short visits whilst staying nearby but for some reason the motivation to make a specific visit just never happened.  But I have a sneaky suspicion we’ll be back before long.

I took photographs of things which amused me: the sign outside the jeweller which has a small disclaimer underneath to say that it no longer applies, the ironwork of the Barton Arcade, the big wheel with poppies attached to each cabin, the bad tempered expression on the first Duke of Lancaster and the rather more curious face of James Joule, both in the foyer of the Town Hall.

Silents

At last, the temperatures have begun to creep up a little and Birmingham was looking splendid in the sunshine when we pottered about before the show.

What a difference a bit of sunshine makes.  It felt as though everyone was shaking off their winter woollies and out in the fresh air.  Of course, some were taking off more layers than were advisable – or perhaps I’m just getting old!

We were there to watch two silent movies with live orchestra accompaniment from the CBSO. We arrived early to take in the pre-concert discussion with Carl Davis, the composer and conductor and joined a sell out audience to watch two masterpieces.

First up was Harold Lloyd in The Eastern Westerner.  Just as on last year’s silent movie evening, we were bowled over by the marvellous comedy action, the timing and the sheer bravado in some of the stunts which would have been remarkable even taking in some of today’s technology.  Knowing they were achieved with the minimum film trickery left us quite breathless! 

The other showing was Charlie Chaplin’s The Gold Rush.  I can’t say I’ve ever been a real fan of Charlie Chaplin’s work, much preferring the quicker, slicker Harold Lloyd and Buster Keaton.  But, this showing was terrific and having learned about the cooked shoe scene from Michael Portillo recently, I was amused to see it for real.

(The boots were made from Pontefract Liquorice)

As always, the acting is truly magnificent, the emotions are played for all they are worth and the eyes tell the whole story.

We loved it.

Our plans were to continue north to join friends in St Annes for a concert by the Lytham St Annes Choral Society of which our friend Olga is a member.  But a walk around Birmingham on Saturday morning before tackling the M6 led us past Harvey Nichols where we stood for a while and enjoyed the window displays.  All the tropically themed arrangements were created from recycled materials and these cheetahs in particular caught my eye.

Here are the paws of the sitting cat.  Clever, eh?

And how about this fine zebra, made from papier mache, strips of fabric and textile trimmings?

Our journey was thankfully uneventful, the concert memorable for all the right reasons and the company of our friends as delightful as always.  Sorry though we were to have to leave after breakfast on Sunday, it was for a good reason.

The Boy is home from the campaign trail for a day or two.

Happy Christmas!

The best kind of Christmas present is one which lasts.  Even better if, having opened (and already enjoyed) my own present, I get to share someone else’s too.

Edward gave Mark a CD of the Ukulele Orchestra of Great Britain for Christmas and bundled inside the package were two tickets for their concert in Bath, last night. 

Brilliant!

We loved the carefree spirit, the surprises, the laughs and above all, the sheer musicianship – it was a truly great night out and we left with huge smiles on our faces, humming a weird but amusing assortment of everything from “Anarchy in the UK” to “Take me back to Sorrento”.

Magic.

The Guuggemusig, as promised

First, the Munchenbuchsee Taktsurfers

Next, the Altstaetten lads who, as band number 52, brought up the rear of the procession.  The two young Civil Defence chaps brought up the rear, having stood still for the whole duration of the procession, gratefully accepting whatever sweets and sausages (yes!) they were given.

What do you reckon to the costumes?  The face paints?

After they had passed by, we scooted through the small streets to the Town Square and equipped ourselves with gluehwein before heading into the narrow "final stretch" to watch the parade go by a second time.

Finally, the Chepfschytter band, who I see are looking for a couple of new players.  Any volunteers?

I think the children from the Steffisburg Playgroup looked pretty good too, didn't you?  It was very cold by that time and their fur waistcoats were a great choice.  As for the Samba group - perhaps they had the prize for the most elegant of the afternoon!

All in all, great fun!

White stuff

How interesting to watch the variety of machines/methods of dealing with snow today.  A light dusting overnight in Zurich turned into a heavier fall as we drove south, towards Chur this morning.  We passed snowploughs of every shape and size: large, road-sized leviathans, operating in pairs clearing the whole width of the motorway as a  l-o-n-g  slow moving queue formed behind them.  On ordinary roads, there were smaller, tractor sized machines which held the traffic up in a similar way before turning off into a side road to return, clearing the other side.  Along the pavements were small, lawn mower ploughs with rubber squeegee type blades in front, driving a little way behind the road ploughs so they could scoop up the fallout and deposit it in a neat ridge along the roadside.  Neatest of all and the one machine which brought a glint into Mark's eye were the small, red snowblowers which people were using to clear their drives and shopfronts.

 

Let's say the Swiss are pretty good at clearing snow.  But, come on, don't tell me you're surprised!

 

It's been a good day and we don't need to do a great deal to enjoy being here.  We pottered around a little, winding up in Rapperswil late afternoon in time for a pre-concert supper.  In the short time it took us to eat a pizza, a couple of inches more snow fell and we sat listening to Raff's Winter Symphony in the church in Lachen, his birthplace, wondering how much more snow we'd find when we emerged.  We were relieved to find only another inch or two, so we declined the kind offers of after-concert drinks from generous hosts and took the direct motorway route back to Zurich.

Fortunately the snowploughs were working in the opposite direction, having cleared our side already.

Maybe we'll take a train tomorrow?