Category Archives: Postcards 2023

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An evening ride on the No.8 into Soho, London

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A big pleasure for me on this trip was that the No.8 was able to reach Soho without having to divert, or jam solid, due to roadworks around Holborn.

With those delays gone, I was able to sit back and listen to the Saturday-happy chat of those behind me, as I watched London preparing to enjoy itself through the window. At one stop, a large clutch of young women boarded the bus. They were dressed for a night out and already wobbly on their heels. I heard them laughing as they clambered in, cheerful and unworried until there was a sudden cry of alarm. The chat paused briefly then rose again with a note of panic as the whole laughing flock realised they were trying to head to who knew where, and the bus wasn’t. As we swung away from the stop, I saw them gathered back together on the pavement, feathers fluffed and shining as they pondered their options.

The group’s mood matched that spilling over the streets between Tottenham Court Road and Covent Garden. The lights were shining on the wet pavements, and the theatres looked busy, everyone relieved that the day’s rain had passed.

I cut through the back routes to get to my destination – the huge Foyles bookshop open until 9pm. As I stepped out of a smaller road to cross the main road, I looked up to see the building beside Foyle’s shining in front of me. Last time I had seen it covered in scaffolding, now there it was gleaming in brazen golds, the only blemishes being the few railings that still clung to its hem like safety pins.

I hurried past it to get where I was going, and then admired it again on my way back. It did not look that tall, but it did seem to have more than its fair share of Soho magic.

As soon as I got back I looked the building up, and discovered that it is called Ilona Rose House. So far I can only find daylight images of it, demure in pink and nothing like the building in the picture above. If the building I saw is the Ilona Rose, all I can say is that it transforms at night. Just like Sandy in Grease it changes into something a little different.

Perhaps that’s what Soho does to the best of us.

Copyright Georgie Knaggs & The Phraser 2023

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Slow travel, and the Brightside roadside diner

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I was asked today if I would go back to a petrol car? My instant reply was ‘no’. Of course, if circumstances changed I might have to, but it is not in my plan right now.

The reason the question was asked was that I was describing a trip I’d just done. Instead of three and a half hours, it had taken four and a half hours due to charging the car en route. It sounded frustrating but it wasn’t. I’d taken along work to do, and discovered the InstaVolt charger was available when I got to the pre-chosen charging spot. InstaVolt, by the way, has a simple tap and untap method of payment. After way too many stressed out sessions at charging points needing mysterious apps I’ve decided InstaVolt is the way forward.

Anyway, back to that trip’s charging session. The InstaVolt charger I used was one of a pair positioned at the end of a carpark on the edge of the A303 near Honiton. At the other end of the carpark was the Brightside Diner. It was my second stop at the diner, and it still felt cheery and clean so while my car hummed away outside I had a pot of tea, and some delicious pancakes with blueberries, yoghurt, granola and maple syrup. In the end I stayed for just under an hour, thankful that rather than being in the draughty, neon-lit, soulless belly of a service station I was able to sit in a warm, quiet space and watch the morning sun fall in folds across the autumn flecked fields of Devon.

That for me is the bright side of travel with an EV. If I hadn’t needed a charging point, I would have been in and out of a service station, hands full of petrol, head full of fumes, clutching a coffee to go.

Copyright Georgie Knaggs & The Phraser 2023

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A Lighter Side of Africa

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“I do enjoy attempting to make something completely ludicrous appear perfectly feasible.

Here is another gift, given to me by a Zimbabwean friend.

I had never seen, or even heard of this book before, and all I can say is that I am so pleased to have its happy take on life lying on the table beside me.

It is a coffee table size book full of paintings by Michael J Allard. Each painting has a full page to itself, with a write up on the opposite page. This normally gives a little information on how and why each painting came to be, as well as some details about the wild animals depicted.

The painting ‘Rhino Hoopla’, shows three boys crouched behind a bush, attempting to throw a hoop over the horn of the wild rhino standing obligingly still while they try. The idea is ridiculous, but the scene is painted so vividly with a storm drowning the hills behind, that you almost believe it.

There is also a painting of two boys being towed on a blanket behind a warthog, with a flock of African sacred Ibis flying above them. The title of that painting is ‘Drag Racing – Africa Style’. On the opposite page there is description of how the painting came to be which begins with the quotation by the artist: “I do enjoy attempting to make something completely ludicrous appear perfectly feasible.”

Another image is of an elephant shaking his head, scattering baboons in every direction as it does so.

There are so many images that are such a pleasure to look at again and again. Nearly every one depicts a cheery mix up of the people and wild animals the artist knew in Africa – Zimbabwe in particular I think, as that was where Michael Allard spent his childhood and schooldays, and it was the country he returned to in 1980 after over a decade of travel and study in other lands.

There is more information about the artist in the forward to the book, but I know nothing more than that. I’ll try to find out a little more if I can.

If you’re interested, the paintings in the book have been collected together by Kerry Hastings-Spital (kerryhastingsspital@gmail.com).

Copyright Georgie Knaggs & The Phraser 2023