What became of Charlie's singing teacher

When I was about 22 I went to live in the South of France for a year. Ostensibly this was to study, but in reality it involved a lot of beach and a lot of drinking. There I met many wonderful people, including James from Australia who is sadly no longer with us. There were others though - Anna, Lena, Michaela, Michel, Erik, Leo - most of them foreign students blessed like me with an abundance of nice weather and a dearth of anything meaningful with which to occupy our time. I lived with a guy called Charlie and a girl called Sarah, and we had a hoot. A night out in Montpellier would always commence with some mild guitar playing. This would build as the level in the bottle of red fell, until a crescendo of singing would break out. Bruce. Crowded House. INXS. Possibly my mate Bryan. Mostly falsetto. Cats in our neighbourhood were unknown. Hell, neighbours were unknown! This got Charlie in the mood for a great night out, and if we, his flatmates, somehow got through it too, then we knew the night could only get better.

This past weekend Charlie finally took the plunge and tied the knot. I had known for some time that Charlie would be one of the last, and I think so had he. Finally though he has been pinned down - by his former singing teacher. This is great news in many, many ways. For Charlie all these years later is in a band, and was until recently the singer. His former singing teacher - and now wife - occupies that slot today, and Charlie has been relegated to guitar. Suzie is a wonderful singing teacher, realism is a rare talent, and we are all eternally grateful.

Michaela, Lena & Anna, the "Arnhem Three"

Michel and Erik

Suzie on a mission, another bloody photo I suspect

The wedding was in Hampshire on Saturday, and a fabulous event. Almost the entire crowd from that wonderful year made it over, and the reunion was long and lovely. Many now married and kiddo'ed up, the years melted away, and though there was no sand and no sea, it was just like the old times. Including the music!! Much as it pains me to say it (just kidding Charlie, we love ya!) they're really pretty good these days. Old Uni buddies JT on the drums, and Ben on the bass. And now with Suzie at the helm, great stuff! That they stayed sober enough to play was impressive. That I stayed sober enough to shoot the whole night in manual mode and with manual flash, perhaps even more impressive!


 

Party Carlos himself!

JT

 

The rest of the night and next morning were a bit of a blur. I remember taking a somewhat less than stable Mrs L back to our hotel, and then hitting the post-Gig party at a different hotel in town. The following morning breakfast was a massive struggle, and so I returned to bed, later to be reminded by staff close to midday that check out had been at eleven - the very definition of Rock and Roll for somebody my age. Mrs L had to drive back to London, whereupon I went straight to bed, and if the truth be told, I still felt pretty lousy this morning.

Vagrant juvenile Little Bittern marries adult Sabine's Gull on Wanstead Flats

Catchy huh? I've been trying to think of a blog-post title that expresses sufficiently the full-on hectic pace of the extremely varied weekend that I've just had. I probably failed. A decent fall of migrants on the Flats followed by a friend's wedding, a speedy twitch to Norfolk for the Little Bittern, and then a Sabine's Gull in London so tame you would be forgiven for thinking it was someone's pet. The above was the best I could come up with, and conjures up a rather different image.

A paragraph on each then, and more photos than strictly necessary.

Wanstead Flats, Saturday morning.
More migrants than you can shake a stick at. Ten Spotted Flycatchers, three Whinchats, a couple of Tree Pipits, heaps of Blackcaps, Chiffs and Dunnocks, coupled with a decent movement of Swallows and Meadow Pipits made for a pretty exciting morning in the company of Sally, Nick and Tim. Why the Flats should be so attractive to Spotted Flycatchers I have no idea, but these splendid little birds are an annual feature at around this time of year, usually in some numbers. Yesterday there were seven in Long Wood, five together, chasing each other round and calling their heads off. To have this treat year on year is a privilege. A decent supporting cast including yet more Whinchats and the morning sped by. I love living here.

Susannah and Don get married in Eltham, Saturday afternoon.
Hurrah, she finally did it! Weddings are great, even when they coincide with pet Sabine's Gulls on London Reservoirs, and we had a brilliant afternoon in the company of lots of old school friends. Susannah and I lived on the same road in Cambridge for many years, went to the same schools, and had many of the same friends. She's far too organised to let my uselessness overcome keeping in touch, so all these years later Mrs L and I got to go to her wedding (and Don's!) and have a wonderful time. Far too much to drink of course, and some dodgy dancing, but these things are par for the course. Guys, you make a fantastic couple, many congratulations!

Twitchwell RSPB, Norfolk, Sunday morning. Early Sunday morning. Too early...
Despite the certain likelihood of too little sleep and a very large headache, I had made plans to go to Norfolk with Nick C, Stuart F and Bradders. A post-wedding 4:50am start was most definitely one of the hardest things I've done this year, but Buff-breasted Sandpiper, Citrine Wagtail,  Cattle Egret and Little Bittern all on the same stretch of coast couldn't be ignored. In the event we only got the latter two, but enjoyed great close views of a juvenile Little Bittern as it clambered about in a reed bed right in front of us. Far too many people, far too much tutting and moaning, but you expect that at Titchwell and it didn't stop us eventually getting the views we wanted. Many Thanks to Big Jake for letting me look through his scope during the panic stages, thus allowing me the luxury of strolling off for a sausage bap. Refuelled and revitalised, I strolled back and got fairly prolonged views as it caught small fish along the margins of the reedbed. Rather pathetically we couldn't think of anything else to do up there, and with virtually no other migrants on the coast, and strong winds preventing us from finding any, it was an easy decision to head home early for browny point recuperation, or in my case, a Sabine's Gull which had done the decent thing by staying overnight.

Distant and elusive Sabine's Gull on KGV Reservoir, Sunday afternoon.
I really like seeing birds really well, and Sabine's Gull is typically not a bird I see well at all. For a start, most of them are Kittiwakes, and the ones that actually are Sabine's are usually miles out whilst seawatching in a raging northerly, whilst tipping sea-water out of my scope. So when I heard that the bird on KGV generally showed to about 40cm, I just had to go, the fact that it was a London tick was entirely irrelevant. A long walk, I can't think of anywhere in London where you might need to go as far in fact, but unequivocally worthwhile. Presumably it just doesn't know what people are, and it's probably best off not knowing, but I can tell you now that I will never see a Sabine's Gull better than today. Superb.

New Delhi Wedding

My new look

I have just returned from another extravagant trip, this time to New Delhi, for a friend's wedding. Given I have not even managed to write about my March/April trip to Australia on this blog yet, bar my lay-over in Singapore, this is going to disturb the chronology. But blogs are fluid instruments, the readership is no doubt intelligent, and I will get back to the Aus birds at some point, but the wedding was too good not to get up straight away. There were of course some birds, mainly Hoopoes.... but they can wait.

So, Andy marries Disha, Disha being the New Delhi connection. I received a phone call from Andy somewhat out of the blue, in mid Feb, saying that the family had finally relented (several years of pain and difficulty) and that it was game on. In April. No time like the present I suppose, and anyway best get it sealed before anyone has a change of heart. So would I like to be put up in five star hotel in New Delhi for three days? Yes, I rather think I would, despite the certain blow to the BP stash. A cheapo flight was procured, jabs were had, a Visa was granted, most critically a field guide to the Birds of Northern India was purchased, and I was on my way.

Monday Night - Engagement Party at Claridges

The swimming pool courtyard at the hotel was transformed over the course of the day by a small army. Serving staff recieved their orders, and at about 7pm the event kicked off with a ceremony which I do not confess to understanding. But whereas here getting engaged is a pretty casual affair between the happy couple, followed by phoning the families and then organising beers with your mates, for Hindus it is a larger and more formal event, with lots of exchanging of items, laying things on each others laps, and involving the whole family on both sides and several hundred guests.



As this was a formal occasion, the venue was fully decorated, and everyone dressed up, and the colours and patterns were simply stunning. There is no nice way to say it, but weddings in this country and incredibly dull and sterile in comparison.



This was followed by a Bollywood presentation performed by Disha's sister and cousins, which was a particular highlight, especially for the bachelors in the room. And for the married men actually... Again, none of the European contingent really understood the songs, but the storyline as I saw it, presented across several numbers presumably taken from incredibly well-known films, seemed to be "boy meets girl", "girl plays hard to get", "boy tries too hard and makes a prat of himself", "another boy comes along", "original boy becomes very sad", "girl takes pity on boy", "mother forbids daughter to see either boy", "daughter becomes very sad", "slightly illicit relationship starts to develop", "boy finally accepted by family", "they all live happily after (other than second boy presumably)". Possibly I read too much into it, or at least tried to draw too many parallels with Andy's particular journey, which thinking about it makes at least some of the themes slightly unlikely to get major focus at an engagement party, but it was great fun nonetheless, and got the crowd going. A quick bite to eat around the magnificently transformed courtyard, followed by a disco where I discovered that I cannot dance to Indian songs any more than I can to European ones.









Andy's Socks. What was he thinking?

Tuesday Night - Wedding at the Taj Palace

Andy and Disha's Engagement was very brief - about 15 hours in fact. The party ended at 3am and the wedding started at 8pm on the same day. When Andy moves, he moves fast! At 7pm we assembled for some special headgear, and a pre-wedding blessing by one of the priets (although I was unfortunately in the bar admiring my new look in the mirror when that happened). We then drove in convoy to the Taj Palace hotel, only to be waylaid by a party of drummers! Actually this is no surprise - throughout Hindu weddings a number of games take place, and this is the first - the Bride's family engage a troupe of drummers to drive the Groom and his party away. they get paid twice, as custom dictates that the Groom et al then pay the drummers to leave, which we did, but not before a lot of very loud drumming and dancing in the street. Once we dispensed with the drummers, the Bride's party then "realise" that nothing will stop us, so decide instead to welcome us, which they then do, with a lot of garlands and flowers that they have lying around just in case this eventually should occur. So we passed through a tunnel of cousins and friends and emerge into the most sumptuous place I have ever been in my life. Claridges down the road had previously held this honour, but the Taj Palace is on another level entirely.





Another small ceremony took place up the front, whilst dancers and a bangra band played in one corner. Then the bride and groom posed for endless photographs, and finally we could eat - it was about 11pm by now. No drink, but there you go. The wedding proper started at midnight, outside under an Mandap a kind of awning. There were four low couches arranged in a square around. On one side were the priests, opposite sat Andy (no Disha yet), his parents on the right, and Disha's parents on the left. A very complex ceremony then took place, involving lots of food items. Again, I don't pretend to understand what was happening, but there were many spices, some fruit, other food items, some money - all used as symbols around a sacred fire in the middle, and a lot of chanting of mantras from the Vedas. At certain points in the ceremony relatives stepped forward to perform various parts. I have to say it was fascinating, but given that it started at midnight and went on until 4am, it was pretty hard to follow. That wasn't a problem - you could engage as much or as little as you like - most people were chatting or wandering around, and some were actually asleep. The wedding ceremony in the Mandap is almost a peripheral event.











Anyway, a great night, and a real eye-opener. I'll show you a few of the birds later, they were pretty good too. Especially the Hoopoes.

Other halves compare notes, and some dancing occurs

Oh dear I

I use dancing in the loosest possible sense of the the word, especially where I personally am concerned, but fortunately as the managing editor of this publication, there are no photos of me, so it didn't happen. Monkey on the other hand shed twenty years after two beers and a glass of fizz, and took the dance floor by storm. In an interesting parallel with current weather patterns, no one could have predicted the carnage that would occur, and in retrospect, we were woefully unprepared for what would happen. Gritting would not have helped - a mini-hurricane raged for the next two hours - no 80s hit was safe - and by the time it was all over several us had been sucked up in the maelstrom, whirled around, and deposited on the side of the dancefloor, exhausted. Splendid entertainment, especially for his children, for whom this may have been a bit of an eye-opener.

Fine cheesecake

Taking a step back, we were attending a wedding reception near Sheringham, and many of the East London contingent were up. Using medieval naming convention for a moment, David the Obsessed* married Suzanne the Tolerant at the weekend, thus providing us all with an excellent excuse to a) go to Norfolk, and b) have a right knees up at his expense. Winner. It was a blazing success, the newly-weds looked fantastic, and a top night was had by all.

The happy couple and providers of fine cheesecake

However, danger lingered on the horizon at all times. This was the first time that Mrs L was meeting the reprobates I go birding with, and even more potentially problematic, their significant other halves were also present, thus allowing comparisons on excessive birding to be drawn. I don't yet know whether this was used purely as an information-gathering exercise ("He never!"), a sorrowful yet accepting mutual-sympathy session, accompanied by mild head-shaking and tutting ("Yeah, 'fraid so, mine does that too, its perfectly normal, you'll get used to it..."), or whether in fact some fully-fledged anti-twitching legislation will soon be enacted in the Lethbridge household. ("Cornwall? This weekend? I take it you're joking?"). It could go either way really.

I had not met any of these long-suffering veterans of birding relationships, but knowing the guys I correctly assumed that they would all be lovely and very VERY tolerant. And alert! Dave Mo and I were chatting about cameras for birding, and he, not thinking, mentioned his future upgrade strategy within earshot of Christine. Picked him up on it straight away, very impressive. Similarly, it turned out that Monkey hadn't really mentioned Scilly '09 to someone important, but she knows now.......

Dave Mo rueing his rookie error

Jack proof-reads Howard's speech

Of course, what none of them realised was that the whole weekend was merely a ruse to do a bit of birding in Norfolk, and very nice it was too. Highlights for me were a showy Little Owl at Felbrigg Hall, some very close Treecreepers at Lynford, and no children. Yep, thats right, Mrs L & I went birding together, just the two of us. I was careful to tone it down such that it wasn't a mad dash from pager message to pager message, but rather some proper decent birding in some beautiful spots. She still got 5 ticks though (for her UK list that I keep and that she has absolutely no interest in whatsover), so she was pretty pleased as you can imagine.

Treecreeper

We took in the Great Grey Shrike at Lakenheath on the way back. Zoe (that's Mrs L) also came to realise why I am always late home from birding expeditions. I did not know this, but apparently she always adds at least an hour to whatever time I say. And that was *before* she had met the birding WAGs this weekend. My planned trip home (the details of which I shared with her as we left the coast at 3ish) encompassed Lynford Arboretum for another crack at Hawfinch, a cruise around farmland near Great Cressingham for Grey Partridge, a quick stop-off for the Great Grey Shrike, and then home for 6pm. Perfectly reasonable I thought. In the event she ruled we had no time for at least two of the three, and that I had to choose just one. Hence we only did the Shrike, and yet still arrived home at about 6pm??? How strange, something odd must have happened to the very fabric of time itself. Alternatively perhaps she was so bowled-over by the stonking close-up views of the Shrike that we spent all the time there without realising it? I have to say I don't remember her clinging on to the scope for dear life, begging for more time. My recollection is that it was more along the lines of "Right I've seen it, can we go now?"

Crippling views of a Shrike yet again

Anyway, lucky Suzanne and even luckier David are off for a weeks birding / bird photography in the Gambia, whilst the UK continues to languish in cold damp misery. Despite my meagre list, there has not really been a tick on offer since the Snowy Owl (the Emperor Penguin is still pending acceptance). Hawky has been tempted by several Green-winged Teals, but so far is resisting the urge. Roll on the Spring.

Oh dear II

H interviews unsuccessfully for Jackanory

* "Bobolink in the grass!"