It's a wrap

I went back home from Christmas, like everybody does. Back home with mom and dad, back home with the family and the usual quarterly meeting with what used to be you old room. Quarterly meeting with what used to be your old computer and 6-hour train ride to the North to visit the relatives and time enough for self-reflecting.

It is past 21-12-2012 and we haven't died. This was a far bigger hoax than the stupid year 2K computer crash that managed to sell all sort of fixing crap to avoid a stupid figure disaster that some PhD IT engineer apparently didn't thought about back in the early days.

All and all 2012 has been a pretty good year. In fact, now aged 26, I am enjoying things, little things, even more than before. Seems like this great City has caught me right at the peak of my cultural development, so I have enjoyed every single minute of it.

2012 packed the greatest of celebrations and all that involves them: Queen's Diamond Jubilee and the Olympic Games. Transport for London suffered a major facelift and now is looking better than Mel C post Spice Girls Era. Summer was surprisingly calm in the centre and London was dressed to impress all year long (let's not count Bishopsgate Road, near Dirty Dicks: this bad boy cannot be kept clean, not even putting a bin every foot).

East London has been crowned the official trendsetter and people is not afraid of popping around deep Hackney on the weekends anymore. In fact, hipster media says that you should be seen in postcodes around EC1 and E19, while WC1 to W1 are so 2010... Street Feasts conquered the hearts of us skint Londoners, which now we have forgotten about eating a meal sitting down. A fiver per item, and sitting on the floor of a derelict warehouse is what you have been supposed to be doing this last summer, while testing the new lager or real ale from the microbrewery round the corner. The 'shabby chic' has displaced the Swedish angular white furniture. This year's all new places required a menu written in white chalk in a blackboard, mismatched school chairs, exposed wooden floors and old mattresses as up-cycled lamps.

People in 2012 didn't want to eat small portions in a massive designer plate anymore. People pilgrimed around the city in search of the latest pop-up food joint to eat in cardboard boxes with their fingers. Because just in case you didn't noticed, hot dogs are not in anymore (except Big Apple Hot Dogs or Bubbledogs): the new fast meaty solution is the burrito in all shapes and forms. High end fast food.

But I lied when I said that E* postcodes were the only ones allowed this year. In fact, the dirty South is the alternative for the Dalston Superstars. SW2 is getting strength, and I could really support the fact since I moved to Brickstance (the stone of Brixi, a saxon Lord). I can support this affirmation as i brought with me on my train 4 London-related magazines which, as the season demands, wrap up the year, and all 4 of them affirm that the best Burger in town can be found In the upcoming Brixton Village, really, at Honest Burgers. Really good burgers are now the new fish and chips. We don't want more beans on toast. Because last year, the best burger was crowned up on the East, on a shy school yard, at the Netil Market in London Fields, off a caravan with old school speakers, but people thought it was a bit too much to pay 8 quid to eat the burger under the rain, Lucky Chip.

Before somebody asks, NO, I haven't tried those famous burgers, but I have had dinner in nearby places around the market and both for quality and price, I have reassured myself in the fact that I will never ever set a foot in McDonalds or similar again, as Prima Donna served me a burger in Ciabatta Bread of the size of my head for less than a Whopper menu. However, confessing myself as guilty as all of yours, I will admit breaking the rule when very late at night, after a big night out, the local chippie that offers chips and chicken for 2 quid is an effective reliever and needed cure for the next day hangover.

I must admit that now matter how hip people want to eat, they now and then want to it their buttocks in any sort of horizontal surface for a while. The same way that in spite of trendy burritos and Mussels and chips pop-up, people still adore the good old pizza, and for me there are two choices: South for Winter and East for Summer, and famous reviewers agree. I almost felt down off my communal wooden bench at Franco Manca at the Village but Hackney Wick rocked my socks after a very gloomy day, the sun finally set and showed my path to Hackney Wick and something divine served me Potato and Sage pizza at The Crate that made me forget about the Olympics and my wet socks.

And people back home keep telling me how bad food this in this great City, and I chuckle inside thinking: oh, you have now idea, and it is better it stays that way. People keep telling me about surviving the bad weather, which fair enough, has been a nightmare this last summer, but as cure for it, somebody decided to chuck tons of fine sand on top of the Roundhouse and named it the Camden Beach.

If still not enough, a group of people decided also to start a market down the canal and THAT was absolutely beautiful. Floating market: brilliant. 

I have eaten a two course dinner at a Supermarket and I have discovered secret roof terraces in Dalston

But yeah, living aside Street Food, Food Markets and pop-up shops, in spite of me being fully employed and spending horrendous amounts of time commuting, I managed to see probably all the bands I wanted in the best little venues of London, managed to go to crazy corners of the city: end of tube lines or brand new postcodes to discover derelict bunkers or party in potential festive venues that now have closes for stupid organisation and lack of safety.

Bands, lots of bands: Sleigh Bells, Spiritualized, The Raveonettes, Glasvegas, The Cribs, DZ Deathrays, Dark Horses, Two Wounded Birds, Mika (!!!), The Crookes, Hanni El Khatib, Jack White, Electric Guest, Crocodiles, The Pukes, The Futureheads, The Pukes, The Buzzcocks, La Femme, Dirty Beaches, Deap Vally, Django Django... Even one of the Proms at the Royal Albert Hall, with Imogen Heap included.

And I feel like awarding the venues: The Lexington for value/money and cool for having two floors (but he quiz night sucks), Roundhouse best layout, Shacklewell Arms for being awkward to get there, Birthdays for opening way before Rita's was built, Electric Ballroom for its quirkiness, Heaven for the stinkiest (piss and beer), The Union Chapel for being the most beautiful venue in London, The Old Blue Last for its convenient location and dead chip gigs, Hoxton Square Bar & Kitchen is alright, intimate, Koko never fails but is way too red, Ally Pally for being ridiculously big (and sort of tropical) and Shoreditch Park (interesting story behind it) for being a cool park to host a city festival.

And is not all about music: I have managed to interact with a lot of my favourit artists working around the city and has left me thirsty for more. The annual meeting at White Cross Street Party introduced me to Milo Tchais and Stephen Ball, Rich Mix gave me a massive showcase of Cityzenkane, Tony's gallery showed me that a bicycle rode by Christian Grillitsch can turn out into pretty interesting art pieces, and the list just goes on and on.

Aw, good times.

Happy New Year 2013.

Definitely more stories.

LPG

While Spain was still recovering from winning to Portugal in Penalties and warming up for the Gay Pride parade, Green Park was heating up with Sudanese Londoners defending their rights and their Twitter hashtag #SudanRevolts (my friend R was there to tell us all about it), half of the UK was crowding up at Heaton Park to rejoice with their teenage heroes The Stone Roses and the internet was freaking out with Instagram's first (and very long) crash, London was enjoying one of the best days in summer and probably the last. See, London can be the most terrible city is the weather is not with it, but just a couple of ray-lights absolutely changes the whole thing. I still try to convince everybody that it is really a very nice city.

Even though I treated myself with a long sleep yesterday (because you know, I was tired from coming back from Stockholm), my friend D and I decided that there was no way we were going to spend the day at home. There was sunshine in London.

We headed to the far far East, we no man has gone before. Further than Canary Wharf, further than the new climbable O2 Arena, and even further than the new, I think very exciting, Cable Car that the Emirates (and Boris?) have gifted us with. Pontoon Dock, were the not very known Thames Barrier have their permanent residence, and where new housing development is taking place but it is too far away for us to realise.

But there it was, London's Pleasure Gardens, LPG to shorten (not to be mistaken with Liquified Petroleum Gas). Location of the now derelict Millennium Mills, apparently post-industrial Britain architectural delight, and its brother, the Grade II listed grain silo simply labeled 'D', and just for that, reason good enough to visit it. Now refurbished site, buildings behind, to host again, after 200 years, day and night events for all ages and tastes for the next couple of years at least.

The celebration in this occasion was actually the Grand Opening of the site, named Paradise Gardens.

With, I think subtle, but effective publicity via Facebook and Twitter, I ended up knowing about it through other London blogs and kept it aside to follow it up carefully. I was actually able to follow the progress of the construction by photo, so became very curious about it. Also, the fact that they finally advertised it on a big banner in my neighbourhood...

But yeah, Paradise Gardens, Grand Opening. Free and celebrating from 1pm until 10pm both Saturday 30th and 1st of July. Being for free and the location was the catch, so we went.

Easily accesible by DLR, stopping at Pontoon Dock, the line towards Woolwich Arsenal, just 8 stations away from Shadwell. By the time we came out of the station, just by crossing the bridge, it was possible to get a good sight of the great location of the site surrounded by water. To welcome us all, a colourful circus-like box office and again, the sight of the magnificent derelict architecture (and of course, the SUN).

Walls of the Millenium Mill decorated by Obey. Good one!

The main square, held a great number of street lamps filled with random objects, so the first game consisted on finding the most awkward one. I found a bird's skeleton. To the left, the Oyster Bar, chairs and tables and the path to a (temporarily) inaccessible garden just in front of Silo D. To the right, what looked to my exactly like the Bucky Dome in Stockholm, but bigger and fuller, daytime swing lesson classroo and mvenue of the after party at night.

Dusty? Who cares?

Around, some tents and stalls selling a variety of things including s***y airbrush tattoos, scarves and all sorts. Apparently, hours before (we arrived around 16:30 ish), there were few cool activities, family friendly and the best, some giant salad tossing that I would really loved to have seen.

Airbrush tattoos for the most badass kids

Enough activities for kids and grown ups. I must admit we made a little race in the track. Apparently they held sillylimpics there in the morning. Missed that!

For the grown ups, the packed main stage and little tent with live reggae on the side. Good tunes, lots of trumpets ('Hypnotic Brass Ensemble'). For the kids, and not so kinds, a big wheel, flying chairs and a carousel.

These two blokes, playing along the reggae tunes. Silo phone in hand (how carries with him a Xilophone?) and some empty cans of beer for percussion.

For those fussy about their feet, this was not a place to be with heels. Must admit that the place had no tarmac, so combining that with the fact that we had pretty good weather, the chances of dust were undoubtedly big. And that's what happened really. After I came back, I read all these reviews about the event of people complaining about how dusty the site was. Londoners, let's be serious: a) it is free, b) the weather was fantastic, c) What? Do you want mud? There is nothing that cannot be sorted with a pair of sunglasses. Let's stop whining and let's enjoy. DUSTY nightmare was the one I suffered back in 2005 while trying to see Incubus live at Festimad.

Amazing site

We wanted to be the sky

Two stations away: London City Airport

Stage-wise, the Dome, some small tent playing reggae and the big main stage. Food: lots of stalls, did not try any. Drinks? Overpriced. Get the booze on the first tend to the right; on the main stage is 50p more expensive (£5).

The vibe? Really good. By 10pm, everybody gathered in front of the Silo D, where the access was controlled before, it was now opened for everybody to lay on the comfy grass. We waited for the fireworks show to started when the sun came down.

Great show.

Great day.

Best fireworks of the year, not counting the Jubilee's (sorry Guy Fawkes might)

In front of Silo D, waiting for the fireworks display to start.

As the Arctic Monkeys would say: this house is a circus

Cool Mohawk

London's new housing solutions

As I came back home, Instagram was working, the Sudanese demonstration was over, The Stone Roses were heading home and Madrid was preparing for today's final. But that's another story.