8pm, 6 & 8 Manor Road, N16 5SA London
7pm at Royal George Charing Cross, 133 Charing Cross Road, WC2H 0EA
Pleased to be reading alongside Ric Dove, Ella Chappell and Daniel Carpenter.
A free night of music, comedy, poetry and dance, featuring:
Carol Prior (compere), Chris Fraser, Carmina Masoliver, Miranda Gavin, Las Pasionarias, JC McFee, Mellow Baku, Alice Denny.
We will be raising money for The Penny Beale Memorial Fund, which has been created to preserve and protect the physical and mental health of persons who are or have been victims of domestic violence and to advance the education of the public, including local authorities and voluntary bodies, by the provision of information, advice and training programmes into the causes, remedies and prevention of domestic violence. Charity No. 1110528.
After my first fringe run, it’s hard to know what I’m feeling, but, I’m so glad that I’ve done it. I viewed it as a learning experience, and wanted to sell some of the 100 books that were delivered to my hostel. I could just about fit the 50 books that were left in my suitcase, so I feel like I did what I set out to achieve. In celebration, I also got my first two tattoos: a heart on my wrist, because that’s where I wear it, and leopard print on my shoulder, to symbolise She Grrrowls.
In terms of learning, I think I could have flyered better in terms of exit-flyering more rigorously. I did well with the Wee Blue Book, but the people taking them weren’t necessarily my audience, and I feel like people who would have liked it weren’t always reached. I tried to pace myself, but as a lone wolf, I saw more shows than people, and could have put myself out there more in terms of meeting other poets etc. Tim Wells bumped into me flyering and stressed the importance of networking, but it isn’t my best skill. For this, I was grateful for people like John Osborne who invited me to hang out at the Book Festival, which I didn’t know much about. Sadly, coming down with a cold meant I had to propose getting well again, but towards the end of the month I was also able to hang out with Tyrone Lewis and Jake Wild Hall from Boomerang Club, and met a few people through them. It was actually BC, along with Joel Auterson who inspired me to take She Grrrowls to the fringe having seen they did it the previous year.
The Fringe is so expensive to attend, even with a free venue, and so I wasn’t expecting to make a profit, or break even, but just hoped to have some money to help me get by. It had put me out of pocket for many months when working in Spain, and it was thanks to a week of teaching work in Wimbledon that I even had money to buy food. I have no savings. The only thing to alleviate the stress what when I secured a couple more weeks of work for September, and started to do interview for tutoring jobs from my hostel kitchen. I was paying over £800 for a mixed 6-bed dorm, and although this resulted in many sleepless nights due to snoring guests, the location was perfect, and it was pretty clean with a well-equipped kitchen. Doing a solo show I think I’d need something better, but I managed to survive it.
Initially, I was nervous about flyering, and not too excited to have to host the show. I found I surprised myself in both these areas. Flyering was okay when I could be myself, and there were hundreds of others doing the same. Hosting each night felt like I was training a set of muscles. However, there were a few times sexism reared its head. Once a man spoke to me about my event then asked to shake my hand. Except he brought it to his frog-like lips and kissed it. I felt violated. Then there was a time when a guy walked past, whipped a flyer out my hand only to throw it to the gutter – normally, not much to think of, except it seemed a deliberate reaction to the word “feminism” emboldened on the flyer. Just after this a group of guys I recognised (possibly fellow poets) approached me. At first they seemed friendly, but what they said to me was strange, hostile and intimidating. I doubted they would behave the way they did to a man, so regarded it as an act of sexism. And it wasn’t just me: Fay Roberts wrote an account for this problem here.
I did a few feature sets at nights such as Raise the Bar: Poetry Versus and That’s What She Said. Another thing I would have done would be more features and open mics, but this required more planning than I had realised, and I wasn’t quite sure where to look. I did suffer from “fringe flu” at one point, which was when the wonderful Jane Bradley, host of TWSS, gave me a lovely bag of goodies like grapes and tea and lozenges. When I wasn’t flyering, seeing shows, or doing shows, I was writing reviews for The Norwich Radical (one, two, and three), and applying for tutoring jobs for when I returned to London. This means I’m going to soon become self-employed when I start taking on tutoring clients.
I saw so many incredible shows that it would be impossible to list them all, but I will try now, and did try to tweet about them all during the fringe (categories may cross over).
KMT by Athena Kugblenu
Elsa by Isobel Rogers
What Women Want by Amy Annette
Sticky Digits by Pamela DeMenthe
The Lol Word
Adele is Younger Than Us
Hurricane Katie by Katie Pritchard
How to be Good at Everything by Next Best Thing
The Conscious Uncoupling by Rosie Wilby
All KIDing Aside by Christel Bartelse
Molesting the Corpse of Traditional Masculinity Since 1987 by Henry Ginsberg
London Hughes: Superstar
Shit! I’m in Love with You Again by Rachelle Elie
Above the Mealy-Mouthed Sea by Jemima Foxtrot
Circled in the Radio Times by John Osborne
Frankie Vah by Luke Wright
Anxiety and Animal GIFs by Hannah Chutzpah
My Cloth-Eared Heart by Melanie Branton
That’s What She Said
Porky the Poet
Fifty Grades of Shame by Sophia Blackwell
An Evening with an Immigrant by Inua Ellams
No Rest for the Lizard by Gecko
A Matter of Race
Struggle With Purpose by Patrick Shand
This Really is Too Much
Happy Hour by Jack Rooke
Show Me The Money by Paula Varjack
Quarter-Life Crisis by Yolanda Mercy
Good Girl by Naomi Sheldon
The Vagina Dialogues
Syd & Sylvia by Claudia Jefferies
At the end of the run I had a couple of nights still, catching the rest of the shows I could, and trying to do some non-fringe stuff. Having had a picnic for dinner on Calton Hill the night before, I treated myself to a lovely meal at MUMS after climbing Arthur’s Seat on my final day, and had my first try of haggis with a Full Scottish Breakfast the next morning (I spread it on toast and finished it, but I’m more of a hash brown girl). After cooking for myself everyday, aside from exactly two portions of chips and gravy, for the whole month, it was a worthy reward. I’d also been veggie the whole time, so meat was quite a treat.
Now it’s onto the next chapter – the book launch at The Five Bells in New Cross on Wednesday 20th September!
So, it seems fitting that this is only my ninth post about my time in Spain. As a person who likes round numbers, it leaves a door open for future opportunity to return. For this last post, I have complied a list of things I’ll miss about Spain, as well as those things I’ve been missing from the UK. I came to the country not even a beginner in Spanish, and have since done an online test (from a language school in beloved Battersea, of all places) and the test placed me as a Pre-Intermediate 3 (A2.3 on the CEFR). I have been in Spanish lessons all June, and spent last Saturday reading a story book at the pool, plus the doorman to my building just said I have improved (though he seems to say that a lot!) I’ve been to Granada, and will be finishing my trip in the beautiful Cadiz, where I’ve never been before.
So, here we go with Spain vs. UK.
So, it’s always around 10 degrees warmer here in Andalusia. That said, it is very hard to keep to a good temperature because it is so expensive. In winter, my apartment just has a choice between air conditioning and an electric radiator. In summer, it’s windows or air con. Bills have been expensive as it is, so it doesn’t feel like much of a choice. The fact there isn’t central heating makes as much sense to me as the UK not having air con (so, equally silly). The summer sun is more reliable here, but I’ll be back to the UK’s unpredictability soon enough.
Whilst away I’ve missed roast dinners, and despite getting my fill over Christmas, I’m salivating now just writing the word gravy (which, by the way is really hard to describe in Spanish – un tipo de salsa?). My favourite Spanish dishes can be had in the UK, and with that in mind, what I appreciate in the UK is the variety of cuisine, and it has made me want to try food from even more nationalities. Even with the summer heat now, the lack of gardens also means a lack of BBQs, which I’ll also look forward to sinking my teeth into on my return. What I will miss most is the availability of churros con chocolate, which are a dessert option in some restaurants, but here are a staple of any good cafe. As well as that, I love that sandwiches are generally plain (no mayo), and on massive delicious bread. Like this tortilla one.
Anyone who knows me will know my chocolate and milk habit, which I have as an evening treat – a reward for my hard work. Milk in Spain is not the same, and generally tastes sweeter. I did manage to find a decent skimmed milk, and have recently been popping a mug in the freezer so it is extra chilled. On the other hand, I have no idea how I am going to fill the void of both still lemon juice, and tinto de verano or vargas. Yes, I can get lemon juice in the UK, but it comes in relatively expensive cartons, and not the nice big bottles you have here, and you can get a bottle of vargas for under a euro. It is so fruity and has low-alcohol content, so it is delicious.
There is an Irish pub in Córdoba, but just isn’t the same. A good pub maintains what is meant by its full name: public house. They are cosy, family-friendly, and serve proper pub food (see: gravy). British children often grow up going to pubs, usually with a playground to accommodate them and I have many fond memories of The Leather Bottle, playing wit friends and eating salt-and-vinegar McCoys with a blackcurrant cordial. I’ve now changed that order to a pint, but what I will take back with me is the smaller measures in Spain. Obviously, they’re more liberal with the spirits (best gin con limón ever), but I love being able to get just a caña or maceta. I feel like I might start getting half pints when back in the UK. Another plus here is that you can get cheap tapas whilst drinking, and sometimes it’s even free.
I feel a great connection with Spanish music, and have also enjoyed some of the flamenco fusion nights, which are filled with people of all ages, often dancing traditionally. The festivals in May will definitely be calling me back. This kind of culture just can’t be found in the UK if we think about what is traditionally British in terms of dancing… Morris dancing? I’m sorry, but no thank you. In my opinion, nothing quite matches the dancing here, and I would love to learn the sevillianas so I can feel more of a part of it. Despite this, I know I can learn this dance back in London, because again, the UK trumps every time when it comes to variety. I am spoilt for choice having had the fortune to grow up, and still currently be able to live there on my return.
As much as I miss my family, having lived with my parents for the past five years, living on my own in Spain has been a dream come true. I paid about half my salary to live alone, but I relished this space, not to mention my independence. I’ve been eating less meat (mostly only when I go out), whilst meat or fish is a staple with every meal with my dad’s cooking. For the time I was living and working in London post-university, I started not to take lunch breaks, yet now having the long ‘siesta’ afternoon breaks (I don’t siesta), I have appreciated the importance of a proper break away from work at lunch, cooking my main meal during this time. Of course, this is made easier by living less than five minutes walk away from work. That glory is what I am most going to miss. Still, working in the day time is preferable, but it’s likely that any TEFL work I do back in London will be evening work too. That said, I find this kind of pattern means I see work as part of my day, rather than something to get over and done with.
I’ve made friends here, and I hope to come to visit them next year. That said, a year just isn’t long enough, especially with the transient nature of this work, and if I had better Spanish I would have liked to make more Spanish friends (a lot of the locals who engage with English teachers tend to be men…) I just wish I had come sooner, but like there aren’t enough hours in the day, sometimes it feels like there aren’t enough years in the lifetime. In some ways, I have found it difficult to be away from friends and family, and this was more so when hearing of the news of terror attacks, the Grenfell Tower fire, another fire in Bethnal Green where I used to work, and more personal matters, such as my Great Uncle passing away just last week. I was lucky in that I had friends and family visit, but I am so looking forward to seeing all my friends in the UK again, friends I’ve known from age four, from secondary school, from university, from poetry.
This brings me to one of the things that makes me feel most at home in the UK: our lovely poetry communities. I have already signed up to take part in the Poetry Cafe fundraiser. I’m also going to be at Edinburgh Fringe festival with She Grrrowls (Black Market Room 1, 7:20-8:20 pm). I am feeling anxious, but also excited. So many of my friends have achieved such amazing things in the time that I’ve been gone, and I just can’t wait to see them doing these things (and join in a bit too, hopefully). There’s so much that I want to do, including continuing learning Spanish, and although I obviously won’t be able to do this in the same way without physically being in Spain, to have only been to one poetry event, this is possibly the number one thing that I missed in the time that I have been gone, because I was almost starved of it.
So, I leave here in July, relating to this quote from Suzannah Weiss: Few are familiar with the concept of going somewhere, loving it, and, nevertheless, leaving.
Fellow member of Kid Glove, Maeve Scullion, has been organising a charity fundraising event for Child.org whereby poets write and perform poems for 10 hours straight. Wanting to take part, but being in Spain, I decided to participate online.
I rarely share my poetry online, and although I have been wanting to record more poems, sharing first draft poems, fresh off the page is something else! I managed to complete the challenge, and I really enjoyed doing it… I had to teach from 5-9pm afterwards, including a group of 9-10 year-olds, so I am exhausted!