Well since our return from Glasto, it seems like 90% of the conversations I have had with people have been about THAT weekend. I'd forgotten how many people from Bristol go to the festival, those that didn't make it tended to watch lots of it on TV, so everyone has been comparing notes, on what they saw or did. It sounds like everyone who went had a great time.

We had an interesting night out on Friday. A number of artists have been commissioned to create artworks relating to the dock area of central Bristol, included in this group are our friends Anna Oliver and John Pym. This Friday marked the launch of the project, so I meet Orynthia straight from work and we set off to catch some of the work. Anna's work was the first thing that we saw, over recent months Anna has been asking people to send in their stories and memories of the docks (you can see these at her website, see link on right of page), she has taken over a derelict corner of the docks and decorated it with these stories. Some funny and poignant stuff here and anyone who has lived in Bristol for any length of time will find something that triggers a memory. Yesterday we took a look at John's installation, once again he plays with daylight and space in a slightly unsettling way. Worth taking at look at if you can. It's located opposite the main fire station in Bristol and it was good to see the fireman checking it out and encouraging their mates to take a look.

Later in the evening, we ventured up to a pub call The Greyhound In Clifton. Over the past couple of weeks, our friend rob has started playing old Ska, R & B and rock and roll records in the backroom of the pub. Rob had assured us that hardly anyone turns up, so we ventured in expect to find a handful of people. We were somewhat confused to walk in to a small room which featured about 15 very drunken blokes, who were in the later stages of a "stag" night. What joy! We managed to find ourselves a table in the corner which was farthest away from them (only about 10 feet), whilst Orynthia was waiting to be served, one of the happy gang who had been sitting on the Pool table behind Rob, leant forward and just kept going. Landing head first with good old thump! His mates gathered round and managed to get him back on the Pool table whereupon he decided to throw his cigarette away, unfortunately he decided to throw it into Robs record box! Things started to get a bit heated (in more ways than one!) and for a while I thought that we were heading into a classic bar room brawl, with us lot hiding in the corner. Luckily some of the stag party managed to combine with the landlord and calm things down, before the group were ushered away into the night. Not quite the quiet end to the evening that we had planned.