So, we survived our newbies skiing holiday without any broken bones or equipment and can even boast that we vaguely mastered the skill. The children may have lapped my husband and I on the blue piste course we set ourselves, but that's because we learnt the proper parallel turns. Honest! While they zoomed down and deployed the occasional snowplough to come to a teetering halt near a heart-stopping edge, we took our time and did it properly (in between furtive glances and whispers to each other that it looked a bit steep!)
Here's where we stayed and here are my top tips to anyone else considering taking up the sport with young children at the tender age of ... my own several decades.
1) COST: I always thought that skiing was what posh people did, having overheard the odd "We're off to Val d'Isere skiing... oh yes, a yacht in Porta Banus for the summer" in my youth. It is indeed, an expensive pursuit. There's the accommodation, the flight, buying or hiring the gear, the lessons and the not-to-be-missed apres ski. But there are ways to cut the cost.
First, we flew on a budget airline at hideous o'clock in the morning. That was tolerable, and for the kids, added to the excitement.
Second, we opted for skiing classes in the afternoon, which were not only cheaper but as most of the other learner skiers wanted to be on the slopes in the morning so they could enjoy a lazy lunch and then a snooze, conatined fewer people. Therefore, we learnt quicker. In theory! Other ski schools in the area included BASS, ESF and Ski Morzine.
Finally, we begged and borrowed as much kit as possible and asked for ski-related items for the kids Christmas presents. I shopped with the expert skier friend who had organised the trip and cajoled us into joining them and took her advice and guidance on indulging in really good ski jackets with all the pockets, snow skirts, warmth and water-proofness required, but I bought them in the sales online or from TKMaxx. Then, we were given or lent goggles, gloves, socks and thermal layers.
2) KIT: Those layers are vitally important. As someone more adept at dealing with warmer climes, for the first two days of skiing I returned chalet-bound barely able to feel the tips of my fingers and toes. The next day, I added another layer. And the next day, I added another and also went to a ski hire shop and bought some proper ski socks. A hideous orange and grey nylon-type combo, they have padding on the ankles and shins and are made of some miracuous fabric that kept my chillblained toes warm at all times. Fluffy tube socks are no good. Nor are woolly ones. This is one area where you need to splash out 20 Euros or more - even if you buy just the one pair and rinse and repeat for the rest of the week, as I did! Later in the week, as my skiing got better, I was spending less time standing around and more time moving, so I actually got warm and had to take off a layer. But because all my tops were then and thermal, it was easy just to bung it in a rucksack and carry it. You might want to invest in mitten liners as well as waterproof gloves or mittens and it's handy if they've got elastic round them to keep them on your wrists so they don't get lost or fall off when you're adjusting your goggles mid chair-lift!
3) BOOTS: Once you've got the right socks, you must get your ski boots fitted properly and clicked into place on the right settings on your ski bindings. The boots have to fit very tightly so that you can be properly balanced on your skis without your foot sliding or ankle turning. It's vital that this is done properly to avoid too much discomfort. They're awkward to walk in at the best of times and DON'T FORGET not to tuck your long johns or anything else inside your boots other than socks as this can lead to nasty blisters.
4) PREPARATION: A reasonable level of fitness is a great help for novice skiers. My sons regularly play football and run about like lunatics so that's a tick. My husband's doing the London marathon so, although injury was a worry, he was fine. And I'm a British Military Fitness addict so, although I used different muscles, at least I had the necessary stamina for climbing endess steps wearing moon boots and carrying skis, poles and other daily paraphernalia. Aside from this, we had had one dry ski slope lesson here. There's also a massive snow sports centre in Milton Keynes and others in Scotland. Just to know how to do up your boots, clip on your skis and snowplough (or pizza and chips, as the kids were taught) saves you part of a lesson once you're out in the cold reality.
5) SENSE AND SENSIBILITY: Having graduated from novice to 'debutante' to someone able to navigate down a blue piste, fall over and get up again without anyone noticing, I count my lucky stars. As well as our initial lesson near home, our friend took us up in the cable car on day one of our holiday and showed us where to put the skis on the outside of the cable car; how to zap your ski pass in the turnstile and where the 'baby' slope was. Our ski-lesson class mate was not so lucky. Her 'friends' took her down the mountain via the blue pistes on day one. Already suffering from vertigo, she was terrified and ended up taking off her skis and walking part of the way down. She completely lost her nerve on day two of the classes and gave up, preferring to stick to the magic carpet or travelator and practice on her own. Don't do this. Don't push yourself too quickly or show off and, if in doubt, fall over. On the other hand, do try to stay confident and practice what you've been taught in your lesson. And, you WILL fall over, even our instructor did once, so don't worry about it and DON'T keep your lip balm in your trouser pocket or you end up with a corker of a bruise when you land on it!!
6) LUXURY: We scrimped and saved to pay for our trip, which included breakfast, a four-course dinner each night as well as cleaning service, airport transfers, minibus lifts into town and a luxurious outdoor hot tub in which to soak away those aches and pains. It was glorious to have that too look forward to and completely made the holiday. I only wish we'd been able to bring our resident chef and chalet maid home with us... but, back to reality!
There's some other useful advice on this link .
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
GIVING
Everywhere you look - particularly at this time of year - we're surrounded by aspiration. Glossy magazine covers flaunt their wares with tantalising catchlines, implying that you too could look this good if only you'd remembered to marry a banker/manage a hedge fund. Newspaper articles list handy guides to what you should buy your loved ones (or what you should covet....) TV adverts portray people (let's be more accurate here, it's always the women) efficiently ticking off their Christmas present shopping list and getting a buy-one-get-one-free into the bargain.
There have been days this month, in the run up to the big X, when I got sucked into all this and utterly overspent. Then felt conned. Cue row with my beloved (this is not verbatim): "How come we're overdrawn? It's not even Christmas yet.."
"Because, for once, I've been super-efficient and bought nearly everyone's gifts already. What do you think we should give your Mum?"
"Couldn't you have kept an eye on our statement and tranferred money across from our savings?"
"Maybe we should communicate better on what we're both spending....like those football tickets you bought. Better still, you do the Christmas shopping!" *SMUG AURA VANISHES - STOMP OFF IN HUFF*
But we forget that this is meant to be all about giving. Refreshingly, my kids' letter to Santa this year was fairly modest. But yesterday, the eight-year-old asked "just" for an iPad! Just! He meant he'd forego lots of little presents for one big one & had no idea what £450 meant, relatively.
Which is why this website caught my eye. It's about an organisation based in Oxford where members commit to giving away 10 per cent of their income. I have nothing to do with them so this is no plug. Not many of us are Gates-like philanthropists who can afford to give away 10 per cent of our income, especially on the day, it's just been announced, unemployment has risen to 2.5 million in the UK.
But today, too, the World Bank's development fund has said it will cost 49.3 billion dollars (37 billion euros) to provide loans to poor nations during its 2011-2014 campaign. So there's a bigger need out there. Without being holier than thou, to learn that we could all be more efficient with giving by choosing a charity that is better run or that is involved with work that saves more lives intrigues me.
Take a look and happy - row free! - Christmas to one and all.
There have been days this month, in the run up to the big X, when I got sucked into all this and utterly overspent. Then felt conned. Cue row with my beloved (this is not verbatim): "How come we're overdrawn? It's not even Christmas yet.."
"Because, for once, I've been super-efficient and bought nearly everyone's gifts already. What do you think we should give your Mum?"
"Couldn't you have kept an eye on our statement and tranferred money across from our savings?"
"Maybe we should communicate better on what we're both spending....like those football tickets you bought. Better still, you do the Christmas shopping!" *SMUG AURA VANISHES - STOMP OFF IN HUFF*
But we forget that this is meant to be all about giving. Refreshingly, my kids' letter to Santa this year was fairly modest. But yesterday, the eight-year-old asked "just" for an iPad! Just! He meant he'd forego lots of little presents for one big one & had no idea what £450 meant, relatively.
Which is why this website caught my eye. It's about an organisation based in Oxford where members commit to giving away 10 per cent of their income. I have nothing to do with them so this is no plug. Not many of us are Gates-like philanthropists who can afford to give away 10 per cent of our income, especially on the day, it's just been announced, unemployment has risen to 2.5 million in the UK.
But today, too, the World Bank's development fund has said it will cost 49.3 billion dollars (37 billion euros) to provide loans to poor nations during its 2011-2014 campaign. So there's a bigger need out there. Without being holier than thou, to learn that we could all be more efficient with giving by choosing a charity that is better run or that is involved with work that saves more lives intrigues me.
Take a look and happy - row free! - Christmas to one and all.
Saturday, December 4, 2010
BMB - A CHRISTMAS CAROL
This post was written in response to a thread suggested by British Mummy Bloggers #BMB
A TROPICAL CHRISTMAS PAST
My most memorable Christmas was spent on the islands of Vanuatu as a teenager. Never heard of it? I hadn't either. But my dad worked at the agricultural college there for a couple of years in Port Vila, the capital. I say that glibly but acknowledge how fortunate we were to have had that experience. Swimming, sunbathing, learning to scuba dive on Hideaway Island, barbecues on the beach and giggling at some of the Pidgin English phrases we'd learnt. Having previously been based in sub-Saharan northern Nigeria for five years, while we four daughters did the boarding school thing, the change of scene was doubly welcome. It was hot, humid, prone to cyclones and earth tremors and a long, long way away!
As a 17-year-old supposedly studying for my A Levels in between all that sun and sea, I travelled out there with my two younger sisters via Dubai or Singapore, then Sydney, sometimes Brisbane, Noumea and then a tiny 'elastic band' style plane to Port Vila. We wiled away the minutes waiting for our connecting flights by racing up and down the travelators (I'm sure fellow passengers were impressed!) or spending our pocket money on Duty Free goodies like M & Ms - which you couldn't get in the UK at the time. Once we finally got there, ignorant about the likes of DVT, the heat hit us in the face like a sauna and the jet lag was something else!
This particular year, my dad was given a suckling pig by some of his colleagues so that we could celebrate it traditional Ni-Vanuatu style. We dug a pit in the very fertile soil (you pick up these details when your dad's a tropical agriculture nerd!), tossed in some stones and lit a fire on top of them. While that was taking hold, my mum prepared the meat. A great cook with a well-thumbed Mrs Beeton tome, I don't think she found a recipe for this, but someone at the Corona women's society (like the W.I.) probably gave her the heads up. She sprinkled salt on the outside of the pork and stuffed it with apricots and prunes to give it a tropical flavour, then wrapped it in banana leaves. The bundle was balanced on top of the hot stones and covered in soil to trap the heat like an underground barbecue. Then the big wait began.....
It secretly simmered for hours as it was too hot to eat a big meal in the middle of the day anyway. I remember prancing around excitedly in my t-shirt night dress for ages and then we busied ourselves unwrapping presents, ringing the grandparents and my older sister back home to share festive greetings and trying to figure out what time we had to tune in to the World Service for the Queen's Speech. Of course, we nagged Mum constantly, "Is it ready? Is it ready?" and dad would go over and prod it with the gardening fork and look like he knew what he was doing! Then, finally, the moment came. We could see if it had worked. What if it was inedible? The soil might have got into the package or maybe it was still raw. The dangers of salmonella! Whose idea was it to put prunes, of all things, inside it anyway?
Well, it was the most tender meat I've ever tasted and, prunes aside (literally, on my plate anyway!), it was a good job we liked it because there was so much left over it almost filled the freezer. And somehow, a traditional turkey wouldn't have worked in those sunny climes without snow and carols, sherry and mince pies. Our secretly simmered suckling pig was super special. And I think that's what Christmas is about. Not getting your family and friends exactly what they want as presents but making memories. From the sentimental Christmas tree decorations your kids have crafted to the carefully chosen crackers (we've gone for posh London ones this year) and table decorations, it's about setting the scene for the anticipation of something special. Then waiting and waiting until, finally, the big moment arrives. Merry Christmas fellow bloggers!
A TROPICAL CHRISTMAS PAST
My most memorable Christmas was spent on the islands of Vanuatu as a teenager. Never heard of it? I hadn't either. But my dad worked at the agricultural college there for a couple of years in Port Vila, the capital. I say that glibly but acknowledge how fortunate we were to have had that experience. Swimming, sunbathing, learning to scuba dive on Hideaway Island, barbecues on the beach and giggling at some of the Pidgin English phrases we'd learnt. Having previously been based in sub-Saharan northern Nigeria for five years, while we four daughters did the boarding school thing, the change of scene was doubly welcome. It was hot, humid, prone to cyclones and earth tremors and a long, long way away!
As a 17-year-old supposedly studying for my A Levels in between all that sun and sea, I travelled out there with my two younger sisters via Dubai or Singapore, then Sydney, sometimes Brisbane, Noumea and then a tiny 'elastic band' style plane to Port Vila. We wiled away the minutes waiting for our connecting flights by racing up and down the travelators (I'm sure fellow passengers were impressed!) or spending our pocket money on Duty Free goodies like M & Ms - which you couldn't get in the UK at the time. Once we finally got there, ignorant about the likes of DVT, the heat hit us in the face like a sauna and the jet lag was something else!
This particular year, my dad was given a suckling pig by some of his colleagues so that we could celebrate it traditional Ni-Vanuatu style. We dug a pit in the very fertile soil (you pick up these details when your dad's a tropical agriculture nerd!), tossed in some stones and lit a fire on top of them. While that was taking hold, my mum prepared the meat. A great cook with a well-thumbed Mrs Beeton tome, I don't think she found a recipe for this, but someone at the Corona women's society (like the W.I.) probably gave her the heads up. She sprinkled salt on the outside of the pork and stuffed it with apricots and prunes to give it a tropical flavour, then wrapped it in banana leaves. The bundle was balanced on top of the hot stones and covered in soil to trap the heat like an underground barbecue. Then the big wait began.....
It secretly simmered for hours as it was too hot to eat a big meal in the middle of the day anyway. I remember prancing around excitedly in my t-shirt night dress for ages and then we busied ourselves unwrapping presents, ringing the grandparents and my older sister back home to share festive greetings and trying to figure out what time we had to tune in to the World Service for the Queen's Speech. Of course, we nagged Mum constantly, "Is it ready? Is it ready?" and dad would go over and prod it with the gardening fork and look like he knew what he was doing! Then, finally, the moment came. We could see if it had worked. What if it was inedible? The soil might have got into the package or maybe it was still raw. The dangers of salmonella! Whose idea was it to put prunes, of all things, inside it anyway?
Well, it was the most tender meat I've ever tasted and, prunes aside (literally, on my plate anyway!), it was a good job we liked it because there was so much left over it almost filled the freezer. And somehow, a traditional turkey wouldn't have worked in those sunny climes without snow and carols, sherry and mince pies. Our secretly simmered suckling pig was super special. And I think that's what Christmas is about. Not getting your family and friends exactly what they want as presents but making memories. From the sentimental Christmas tree decorations your kids have crafted to the carefully chosen crackers (we've gone for posh London ones this year) and table decorations, it's about setting the scene for the anticipation of something special. Then waiting and waiting until, finally, the big moment arrives. Merry Christmas fellow bloggers!
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
THE SAVVY SOCCER MUM
Ok, so you're a mother or father of boys. Welcome to the fold! Especially if, like me, that makes you the solitary female in your household - a footy mad household at that!
Fortunately, I was a tomboy and played as a child. So, welcome too, to anyone who has football-loving daughters. Thank goodness they're able to play the game now, whereas in. my day, there was uproar when I shunned netball for the beautiful game in PE lessons. I even went so far as to buy loads of bubble gum packets with each week's pocket money so I could fill my sticker book with pictures of Bob Latchford (Everton?) and Kevin Keegan!
Now, my children play - and boy is it a serious business! It took a while to understand the intricacies of being offside or the variations on the rules that apply to Under 10s teams. But I've come a long way since I first signed up my eldest son to play for a local youth team. So, here are the mud-splattered tips that I've picked up on the way.
1) GIVE THEM A HEAD START
Whether you sign them up to a local Saturday fun club like SCL or PSR Coaching or maybe a local professional team has a kids' coaching section that comes to your children's school, it helps to get in plenty of practice in the garden or the local playing fields beforehand. This gives you a chance to explain the basic rules, instil a bit of "it's only a game" ethos into them, before they flounce off at every miss-kick and might mean you have to be keeper - always a joy! Especially as they learn to put real power behind their shots and you end up winded, eyes watering, congratulating them on their skills!
2) THE NEXT STAGE
It doesn't take long for them to outgrow the Saturday coaching sessions - maybe by the age of six or seven. Then they'll increasingly want to play matches rather than have endless skills sessions and this is where the fun really starts - for them & for you as chauffeur, kit provider and chief bottle washer! Via word of mouth and Google, find out where your nearest local youth team trains. This is of huge consequence because you'll be gaining a collossal carbon footprint as it is traipsing up and down the county to weekend matches. So to be able to pop down the road to weekly or twice weekly training sessions is a bonus - I wish I'd thought of this before I signed the dotted line!
3) CHIN UP!
Once you've chosen a team, phone up and find out when the team trials are taking place. These are usually sometime in the summer to prepare for the start of the season in September. But bear in mind that there are some really talented kids out there and your child might not get selected. Don't give up though! Children move away or get scouted to play for a club that's higher in the league so try out for other clubs with lots of teams in different divisions to suit all abilities.
4) RULES FOR GROWN UPS
The aim of the game is for your child to learn about fair play, losing and winning gracefully, sticking to the rules and to, hopefully, ward off adding to the obesity statistics into the bargain. So it helps if you're a calming influence on the sidelines rather than a ranting, swearing ref-hating crisis on legs! There are, in fact, strict guidelines on how supporters should behave while their child, niece, nephew or neighbour is playing so bear these in mind or the opposition coach can have a word with your team's coach and it all gets a bit embarassing. There is also a fee to pay, kit to buy and strict guidelines - similar to adult football - on your child moving to another club etc.
5) AL FRESCO
It goes without saying that you'll need boots, gloves, hats, coats and a flask either of the hip variety or containing something caffeinated to keep you going while you cheer on your side. Or wait for play to start. Or warm up after learning how to build the goal posts. But bear in mind that while the male of the species can make do with an overgrown tree, few local football grounds have decent facilities of the lavatorial kind! It's worth recce'ing local pubs and coffee shops in advance. They're also a good place to venture too if you can't take watching anymore - especially if your team is losing!
6) THE SILVER LINING
Ok, so you're out of pocket; you've lost your weekend lie-ins and seem to be perpetually washing horrible nylon fabric or trying to get shin pads clean (at this, I am STILL at a loss!) but, with any luck, you've made some new friends amongst the other MADS - the parental version of WAGS. But most of all, there is nothing like the glory of watching your child revel in the fact that they've just scored, or their team has just won, or they've saved a certain goal or gained the man-of-the-match trophy or, if all else fails, gained recognition for fair play. For that moment, to coin a phrase, it's all worth it!
Fortunately, I was a tomboy and played as a child. So, welcome too, to anyone who has football-loving daughters. Thank goodness they're able to play the game now, whereas in. my day, there was uproar when I shunned netball for the beautiful game in PE lessons. I even went so far as to buy loads of bubble gum packets with each week's pocket money so I could fill my sticker book with pictures of Bob Latchford (Everton?) and Kevin Keegan!
Now, my children play - and boy is it a serious business! It took a while to understand the intricacies of being offside or the variations on the rules that apply to Under 10s teams. But I've come a long way since I first signed up my eldest son to play for a local youth team. So, here are the mud-splattered tips that I've picked up on the way.
1) GIVE THEM A HEAD START
Whether you sign them up to a local Saturday fun club like SCL or PSR Coaching or maybe a local professional team has a kids' coaching section that comes to your children's school, it helps to get in plenty of practice in the garden or the local playing fields beforehand. This gives you a chance to explain the basic rules, instil a bit of "it's only a game" ethos into them, before they flounce off at every miss-kick and might mean you have to be keeper - always a joy! Especially as they learn to put real power behind their shots and you end up winded, eyes watering, congratulating them on their skills!
2) THE NEXT STAGE
It doesn't take long for them to outgrow the Saturday coaching sessions - maybe by the age of six or seven. Then they'll increasingly want to play matches rather than have endless skills sessions and this is where the fun really starts - for them & for you as chauffeur, kit provider and chief bottle washer! Via word of mouth and Google, find out where your nearest local youth team trains. This is of huge consequence because you'll be gaining a collossal carbon footprint as it is traipsing up and down the county to weekend matches. So to be able to pop down the road to weekly or twice weekly training sessions is a bonus - I wish I'd thought of this before I signed the dotted line!
3) CHIN UP!
Once you've chosen a team, phone up and find out when the team trials are taking place. These are usually sometime in the summer to prepare for the start of the season in September. But bear in mind that there are some really talented kids out there and your child might not get selected. Don't give up though! Children move away or get scouted to play for a club that's higher in the league so try out for other clubs with lots of teams in different divisions to suit all abilities.
4) RULES FOR GROWN UPS
The aim of the game is for your child to learn about fair play, losing and winning gracefully, sticking to the rules and to, hopefully, ward off adding to the obesity statistics into the bargain. So it helps if you're a calming influence on the sidelines rather than a ranting, swearing ref-hating crisis on legs! There are, in fact, strict guidelines on how supporters should behave while their child, niece, nephew or neighbour is playing so bear these in mind or the opposition coach can have a word with your team's coach and it all gets a bit embarassing. There is also a fee to pay, kit to buy and strict guidelines - similar to adult football - on your child moving to another club etc.
5) AL FRESCO
It goes without saying that you'll need boots, gloves, hats, coats and a flask either of the hip variety or containing something caffeinated to keep you going while you cheer on your side. Or wait for play to start. Or warm up after learning how to build the goal posts. But bear in mind that while the male of the species can make do with an overgrown tree, few local football grounds have decent facilities of the lavatorial kind! It's worth recce'ing local pubs and coffee shops in advance. They're also a good place to venture too if you can't take watching anymore - especially if your team is losing!
6) THE SILVER LINING
Ok, so you're out of pocket; you've lost your weekend lie-ins and seem to be perpetually washing horrible nylon fabric or trying to get shin pads clean (at this, I am STILL at a loss!) but, with any luck, you've made some new friends amongst the other MADS - the parental version of WAGS. But most of all, there is nothing like the glory of watching your child revel in the fact that they've just scored, or their team has just won, or they've saved a certain goal or gained the man-of-the-match trophy or, if all else fails, gained recognition for fair play. For that moment, to coin a phrase, it's all worth it!
Monday, November 15, 2010
ELEMENTARY
Love, love, love Sherlock Holmes! Much as I struggled to read the books, I adored Julian Barnes’ Arthur and George, which gave an insight into the real-life genius of author Arthur Conan Doyle. So I watched the new TV drama series from a new perspective.
The modern take on the original plots using new techniques like blogging and text messages shown as subtitles on screen was just brilliant.
As for the casting, the chocolate-voiced, quirky, stylish Benedict Cumberbatch was perfect as Sherlock. However, that chocolate voice had a lot to answer for as it very nearly caused a cancelled interview for telly land: a throat infection meant Benedict was quite hoarse the night before he was due to grace our sofa. Thankfully, he eventually decided he was up to it and the script introducing him, rather than one of the series' writers, was quickly reinstated.
Martin Freeman's Dr John Watson, who had been invalided home from the war in Afghanistan, brought the series bang up to date. They meet while Watson is looking for affordable accommodation in London and an old mutual friend introduces them.
I feel sure Mr Conan Doyle would have approved of both the casting and the modern interpretation of his stories, and his descendants seem to have given their approval.
But, whatever I've called this post, at no point in the original stories does Sherlock say "elementary my dear Watson" and these films remain faithful to that. Maybe this will make more people want to read the original Conan Doyle books too? Meanwhile, there’s a competition where have a go at writing something yourself here - click on The Contest.
The modern take on the original plots using new techniques like blogging and text messages shown as subtitles on screen was just brilliant.
As for the casting, the chocolate-voiced, quirky, stylish Benedict Cumberbatch was perfect as Sherlock. However, that chocolate voice had a lot to answer for as it very nearly caused a cancelled interview for telly land: a throat infection meant Benedict was quite hoarse the night before he was due to grace our sofa. Thankfully, he eventually decided he was up to it and the script introducing him, rather than one of the series' writers, was quickly reinstated.
Martin Freeman's Dr John Watson, who had been invalided home from the war in Afghanistan, brought the series bang up to date. They meet while Watson is looking for affordable accommodation in London and an old mutual friend introduces them.
As in the original Conan Doyle stories, Watson is the story-teller and, get this: his character writes up all the cases in his blog, just as Watson wrote up the cases that formed the original books. But this Watson is horrified, at first, by Sherlock's ego and by the way he treats a dead body like a game.
Director, Steven Moffat, of Dr Who fame, said at the time: "Benedict is playing a cold, almost alien-like man in Sherlock and John Watson is the person who humanises him - they are a unit together.
"Whilst other detectives have cases, Holmes has adventures. Sherlock isn't a drama about police procedure - the police are involved but the cases themselves are Sherlock's and he's only interested in the strange ones."
However, it's not all doom and gloom. Moffat continues: "The original books are funny. If you read the Sherlock Holmes stories, the interaction between the two main characters is always funny and I hope we've captured some element of that. Of course it's funny - he's a weird genius, not an ordinary genius."
However, it's not all doom and gloom. Moffat continues: "The original books are funny. If you read the Sherlock Holmes stories, the interaction between the two main characters is always funny and I hope we've captured some element of that. Of course it's funny - he's a weird genius, not an ordinary genius."
But, whatever I've called this post, at no point in the original stories does Sherlock say "elementary my dear Watson" and these films remain faithful to that. Maybe this will make more people want to read the original Conan Doyle books too? Meanwhile, there’s a competition where have a go at writing something yourself here - click on The Contest.
COMMON PEOPLE
I was thrilled to meet one of my musical heroes, Jarvis Cocker, in April this year.
He wanted to 'live like common people' and famously sang about the girl who studied at St Martin's College. I always thought that song was autobiographical and it turns out it was. Jarvis was himself a student at that art and design school in London, graduating with a 2:2 in fine art, before he went on to great success as the lead singer of Pulp and as a figurehead for 90s Britpop. Now he wants to see more children engaged with art and is encouraging them to visit museums.
He’s launched Culture Connect, a partnership of 15 galleries and museums in London, Paris and Brussels. Artists, students from St Martins College of Art and Design and local school children marked the event by creating a modern mural at St Pancras International station depicting world famous works of art from the galleries - including the TATE and Les Galeries Nationales in Paris.
Jarvis hosted an arts series for Channel 4 - "Journeys into the Outside”, which I haven’t seen but it involved following him while he took a trip across the globe, meeting so-called "outsider artists", people who create wacky and wonderful works of art; trying to understand what compelled them to do so. What a great job! But it turns out Jarvis doesn’t actually like going to art galleries, so he understands kids’ reluctance to do so.
In an interview with the Independent in 1999, he said: "They remind me of going to church - the formal atmosphere, people looking at things on the wall, attempting to get some kind of mystical revelation from them."
So he thinks they should be less formal and more creative. In a later interview, for Pitchfork, he: "I want to have as many events that involve some level of participation from the audience as possible. Because I do want to have that feeling that people are actively involved in something, rather than just consuming something. I suppose because it's such a dominant capitalist society now, everything becomes a consumer product. And I don't think that's really appropriate to the creative arts, really."
That explains why, in 2009, ahead of the release his new album, Further Complications, Jarvis and his band installed themselves in an art gallery in Paris for five days. Each day, Cocker and his musicians performed a variety of different tasks. These included soundtracking a relaxation class, inviting local musicians to join them in a jam, and arranging activities with local school-children. The events were organised around Jarvis's public rehearsals for his forthcoming live dates. This was all to explore what would happen if he invited an audience to interact with him and the music. Now something like that, even me and my anti-cultural kids might go and see.
In his interview for BBC Breakfast, he said: "TV, films and the internet may be great at showing you what something looks like, but they're no substitute for seeing them with your own eyes. Some of the world's greatest treasures are housed in museums and galleries in Paris, London and Brussels and I want to encourage people to explore these rich collections."
He has a seven-year-old son, Albert, with his french ex-wife. He's also talked in the past about feeling guilty about just sticking his son in front of a Walt Disney film, when he needed some peace and quiet, because he doesn't think that's how film, art etc, should be consumed. We’re all guilty of that, I’m sure. But we can't always be out at cultural museums and art galleries. For one thing, it's tough to tempt a child to venture there. While many are free to visit, they do need to do something about their ‘stuffy’ reputation and I think they’re starting to get that message. My friend worked for the V&A for years and devised educational backpacks for kids to walk round the exhibitions with, laden with quizzes and things to find. They’ve definitely taken off elsewhere too. So in this era of digital media, it’s worth us all taking the time to visit real relics you can see, sometimes touch, and walk round occasionally. It inspires future creativity and was build to last in the olden days, not like todays disposable 'stuff’.
He wanted to 'live like common people' and famously sang about the girl who studied at St Martin's College. I always thought that song was autobiographical and it turns out it was. Jarvis was himself a student at that art and design school in London, graduating with a 2:2 in fine art, before he went on to great success as the lead singer of Pulp and as a figurehead for 90s Britpop. Now he wants to see more children engaged with art and is encouraging them to visit museums.
He’s launched Culture Connect, a partnership of 15 galleries and museums in London, Paris and Brussels. Artists, students from St Martins College of Art and Design and local school children marked the event by creating a modern mural at St Pancras International station depicting world famous works of art from the galleries - including the TATE and Les Galeries Nationales in Paris.
Jarvis hosted an arts series for Channel 4 - "Journeys into the Outside”, which I haven’t seen but it involved following him while he took a trip across the globe, meeting so-called "outsider artists", people who create wacky and wonderful works of art; trying to understand what compelled them to do so. What a great job! But it turns out Jarvis doesn’t actually like going to art galleries, so he understands kids’ reluctance to do so.
In an interview with the Independent in 1999, he said: "They remind me of going to church - the formal atmosphere, people looking at things on the wall, attempting to get some kind of mystical revelation from them."
So he thinks they should be less formal and more creative. In a later interview, for Pitchfork, he: "I want to have as many events that involve some level of participation from the audience as possible. Because I do want to have that feeling that people are actively involved in something, rather than just consuming something. I suppose because it's such a dominant capitalist society now, everything becomes a consumer product. And I don't think that's really appropriate to the creative arts, really."
That explains why, in 2009, ahead of the release his new album, Further Complications, Jarvis and his band installed themselves in an art gallery in Paris for five days. Each day, Cocker and his musicians performed a variety of different tasks. These included soundtracking a relaxation class, inviting local musicians to join them in a jam, and arranging activities with local school-children. The events were organised around Jarvis's public rehearsals for his forthcoming live dates. This was all to explore what would happen if he invited an audience to interact with him and the music. Now something like that, even me and my anti-cultural kids might go and see.
In his interview for BBC Breakfast, he said: "TV, films and the internet may be great at showing you what something looks like, but they're no substitute for seeing them with your own eyes. Some of the world's greatest treasures are housed in museums and galleries in Paris, London and Brussels and I want to encourage people to explore these rich collections."
He has a seven-year-old son, Albert, with his french ex-wife. He's also talked in the past about feeling guilty about just sticking his son in front of a Walt Disney film, when he needed some peace and quiet, because he doesn't think that's how film, art etc, should be consumed. We’re all guilty of that, I’m sure. But we can't always be out at cultural museums and art galleries. For one thing, it's tough to tempt a child to venture there. While many are free to visit, they do need to do something about their ‘stuffy’ reputation and I think they’re starting to get that message. My friend worked for the V&A for years and devised educational backpacks for kids to walk round the exhibitions with, laden with quizzes and things to find. They’ve definitely taken off elsewhere too. So in this era of digital media, it’s worth us all taking the time to visit real relics you can see, sometimes touch, and walk round occasionally. It inspires future creativity and was build to last in the olden days, not like todays disposable 'stuff’.
TOUGH CALL
Five soldiers were killed by a 'rogue' Afghan police officer they were training in 2009. The soldier opened fire while they were all on a break at a checkpoint in the Nad-e'Ali District of Helmand Province. The divided loyalty he must have felt and their deaths called into question NATO's strategy of working with Afghans to help them run their own country.
BBC Breakfast interviewed Christina Lamb, the Sunday Times' foreign correspondent, because she had had a change of heart over the issue, having previously thought the strategy was justified .
She said: "I've been going there, back and forth, for years and I've changed my mind.
The worse the situation has got, the more successful the Taliban has been in invading the occupying army. The strategy of local mentoring has become a recruiting tool for the Taliban rather than the opposite. A credible Government needs to be able to sit back and try to find another way out of this, no matter how difficult all of this is.
"There was never much trust but now no British soldiers are going to want to work with Afghan soldiers. Where Afghan police have been trained and they go on to hold some territory, there have been cases where they've been raping the young boys of people in the village so local people have had to turn against the very people they thought they could trust.
There's been 30 years of war there so many local people haven't had an education - it's difficult to find the quality of people to recruit {to the ANP} and take on the job.
President Obama has been talking about sending more troops but if people don't believe the Government is doing anything for them, and the local police might be more of a threat to them than the Taliban, you're never going to be successful in containing insurgents.”
For anyone close to the British military, as my local community is, the thought that serving soldiers might be killed by someone they thought was on their side is just terrifying. Here’s hoping our involvement in this very complex war is over soon.
BBC Breakfast interviewed Christina Lamb, the Sunday Times' foreign correspondent, because she had had a change of heart over the issue, having previously thought the strategy was justified .
She said: "I've been going there, back and forth, for years and I've changed my mind.
The worse the situation has got, the more successful the Taliban has been in invading the occupying army. The strategy of local mentoring has become a recruiting tool for the Taliban rather than the opposite. A credible Government needs to be able to sit back and try to find another way out of this, no matter how difficult all of this is.
"There was never much trust but now no British soldiers are going to want to work with Afghan soldiers. Where Afghan police have been trained and they go on to hold some territory, there have been cases where they've been raping the young boys of people in the village so local people have had to turn against the very people they thought they could trust.
There's been 30 years of war there so many local people haven't had an education - it's difficult to find the quality of people to recruit {to the ANP} and take on the job.
President Obama has been talking about sending more troops but if people don't believe the Government is doing anything for them, and the local police might be more of a threat to them than the Taliban, you're never going to be successful in containing insurgents.”
For anyone close to the British military, as my local community is, the thought that serving soldiers might be killed by someone they thought was on their side is just terrifying. Here’s hoping our involvement in this very complex war is over soon.
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