Writing in the train?

I have been wanting to blog about this for a while. A few weeks ago, I read this article on the Guardian, from author Benjamin Dean: My unlikely cure for writer's block: I catch a train to Cambridge. I don't know Dean, never read any of his books, but he seems to be a nice guy. Writer's block or not, I never read in the train. I do however read more and a lot when I travel by train. Call it my cure for reader's block, which has somewhat increased in recent years, maybe because I don't commute or travel by train anymore. I do think also that my mind wanders more in a train, I mean even more than it usually does. So I can easily believe that train travels are more inductive to creativity. Maybe we should have a writing workshop in a train. That would be nice, if nothing else.

"The Train Beer"

It has been much warmer recently, so I have started drinking more blonde beers. I do try to go for the blonde ales though, not lagers. So I recently drank Cambridgeshire Golden Ale which is sold at Marks and Spencer. I don't judge a beer by its label, but yes, that it had a train on it did play a role in me choosing it among other blondes. Wolfie calls it "the train beer". So since then, I call it the Train Beer. My son seems fascinated by its label, if not the beer itself. He is like me really into trains. His mum told me that he will probably end up liking beer when he grows up.

Photo automnale

Je pensais que le blogue devenait bien gris, alors j'ai cru bon d'y mettre une "nouvelle" photo, pour souligner l'arrivée officielle de l'automne. Cette photo a été prise en 2009 à Cambridge, en octobre et non pas en septembre, mais je la trouve singulièrement automnale, alors elle fera bien l'affaire, même si on voit encore beaucoup de feuilles vertes. Ces jours-ci, il fait plus chaud et il risque de faire encore plus chaud, mais les feuilles tombent régulièrement, alors on l'ambiance est bien automnale.

Je ne sais pas pourquoi, mais je trouve que les vieilles souches comme celle-ci ont un côté un peu terrifiant (je les trouve spectrales). Elle ont aussi, pour des raisons plus évidentes un côté mélancolique. Comme l'automne est la saison de la mélancolie, la photo est d'autant plus appropriée.

A walk in Cambridge on a crisp Autumn day

Last weekend, my wife and I went to Cambridge to visit her side of the family (her brother, sister-in-law and her lovely niece who is also mine since I got married). We had a great weekend. The in-laws have always been great hosts and we had the occasion to spoil our niece rotten, which is always fun.

I love Cambridge, it is a beautiful English city with history and a lot of character. When we visit them, we never see the city enough, but it is always a pleasure to get a glimpse of it, especially on such a lovely Autumn weekend. Since Saturday, the season, which had been pretty warm so far, has decided to show its true nature: it is now cold and often dry and windy. On Sunday, we walked downtown, then in the afternoon we went walking in a park by the River Cam. With the right clothes, the cold was just bearable enough to enjoy our time out. I love those moments, when I walk on crackling dead leaves, feel the cold air on the cheeks, admire the view. October in England is still green compared to where I come from, but it still displays some nice colours. And as I said, Cambridge has history, which compensates for the lack of colour. Walking by an old church, I was feeling like in a Hammer movie.

Little tiger in Cambridge

My wife and I spent this weekend in Cambridge to see the brother-in-law and family (his wife and our niece), and I made myself a new feline friend: their house cat. I knew him from before, but he got really friendly this time. Not only with me though: Frankie (that's his name) is almost as affectionate as a dog (it's because he is a Burmese cat, said my brother-in-law). Anyway, he is such a beautiful cat, he moves like a tiger and his fur is almost the colour of a tiger. I once made the comparison to my niece (who wasn't my niece then), and she said "He is a little tiger really". Smart child. She is right too: Frankie is a hunter and often brings dead birds he caught. He is friendly with kittens but does not accept any competition in the house. he scared one of his little friends like this on Sunday morning: he was playing gently outside with him, but the kitten (a black furry cat) got in the house and tried to be friendly with us. Frankie made him go away and chased him down by the cars, keeping the kitten at a distance. Then he rubbed against my wife and I, as if he was saying "those humans are my property". I love cats.

Anyway, we had a nice time with the family anyway. It was a weekend of eating excesses: lasagna for dinner (the best lasagna I ever had, bare none, I will try it here and give the recipe on this very blog), gulped down with delicious red wine, salad to have something green and healthy with it (and lots of vinaigrette to make it not so healthy), apple and lemon pies for dessert, then next morning breakfast with croissants (I had three, including two chocolatines, because I love being excessive during weekends, especially when we are away). I love croissants, and I suspect somebody tipped them about my breakfast preferences. Then we went to town and we book hunt for most of the morning. I got a new Calvin & Hobbes (will write more about it) and my wife got the usual cookey books (she will not use them much I suspect, but we bought them in a second-hand bookstore so they were cheap). Cambridge has a great Borders with lots of choice, I was like a kid in a candy store. So was the niece, but she was more interested about the teddy bears. I tried to get her interested about Calvin and Hobbes, to no avail. (I am always on the lookout for future gifts, it makes my life easier on birthdays). Anyway, who needs teddy bears (and she has plenty) when she has a beautiful cat? Especially a cat as cuddly as he is.

Well, all this to say that we had a lovely weekend in Cambridge. And that cats are sometimes little tigers.