To write or to type?

I wrote a letter this morning. It's been a while. In my late teens I was notorious for writing notes and scribble to various friends (some utterly cringeworthy and have in recent years been destroyed by the recipients; for this I am glad). My oldest friend and I have exchanged letters since we were about five, and continue to do so as it seems to be the only way we are ever able to stay connected, regardless of having each other's phone numbers. I won't go into detail as to the subject of this morning's letter, but instead take a minute to appreciate the act.

In the process of contemplating this, I came across a website called Letters of Note, a beautiful archive full of correspondance, some even dating back to hundreds of years ago. Not only are there the expected letters of love and loss, telegrams and faxes are also thrown into the mix, but for now I might ignore these (as sympathetic as I am towards Pearl Harbour and the Titanic, the telegrams announcing the commencement of each disaster are not the inspiration of this post).

I am interested in the hand-written exchanges, once personal and now displayed all over the web, between intimate lovers and friends. Nosey eh? The first I came across on this website still remains my favourite, even after much browsing. It takes a while to read, but the account of Aldous Huxley's death, written by his wife Laura to his older brother Julian, is an incredible insight into the end of a life.

Just take a second to consider if this will ever be the case for the email. Do you think there will ever be an 'Emails of Note' website, dedicated to the conversings via the world wide web? Doesn't really have the same charm about it does it?

A letter just seems so much more intimate; the combustable, tanglible and delicate packaging of these words remind you of it's mortality. When you delete an email from your inbox, it is fed into a 'deleted items' folder. The delete button is only the first step towards destroying those words, and you have to consciously go into a 'deleted items' folder and eradicate them all for eternity. If a piece of paper were to be destroyed, it would not be possible to pick up the ashes and read them again.

Emails seem so more off-the-cuff. Genuine thought and consideration goes into a letter, with time taken to ensure it is legible and clear. Often littered with edits and scribbles, a letter portrays the writer's thought process in it's creation. I don't know if anyone can really say they have put their heart and soul into an email as much as they might do a hand-written exchange.

I guess it also links to our awareness of the internet and it's public nature. Whilst our email inbox is protected via our password, it still doesn't seem to entirely belong to us, and I always get the feeling that anyone could stumble upon my online correspondance.

Having said that, it's easier to hack into a bed-side table to find a letter than a computer to read an email.

The future of our social lives

I recently found this amusing poster somewhere in the depths of cyberspace and it got me thinking...

Is this a vision of our future?

Whilst sitting in the pub a few weeks back with two of my friends, a waiter commented on the fact we were all sat there on our phones and not talking to each other. One of my friends thinks that this is what future generations will consist of, groups of people sat together in a seemingly social gathering, and yet all communicating with various other people via mobile phones.

When you put it like that, it seems like such a strange thing to do. Why go and meet up with your friends and then decide to talk to some other people that are not present instead? Is there some kind of allure that goes with the idea of having so little time that your social occasions must overlap and you need at least two or three on the go at any one time?

And yet, I find myself texting people just for a chat even when I'm with a group of friends. Not because I find the current company dull, but it just seems like people crop up in my mind that I haven't spoken to for a while and a 'no time like the present' approach is the way I take it.

I think my favourite point that this poster effectively protests against is illustrated but the section 'At no time is it permissable to sit idle and observe the poetry of life or look into the eyes of another person'. We are so much attached to the world that our mobile phones create, switching between texts, Facebook apps, messenger apps and the latest funny photo a friend has sent, completely oblivious to our surroundings.

And so much can pass us by! I have to say, one charm of travelling is that I don't tend to have my phone with me a lot, for fear of rinsing my bank account. This allowed me to take in the world around me, soaking up views and sights whilst sitting on the bus or sat in the window of a coffee shop.

I often find the same thing goes for cameras. When you find yourself in a new place, of course you will want to snap away and make sure you capture the moment to look back on. However, it can often be very easy to see something you want to remember, quickly take a shot and then abandon the sight altogether. I sometimes find myself hardly taking the image in with my own eyes.

And so, with that, I challenge you all to let go of these handheld devices and take a moment to enjoy the company that surrounds you at present, or bask in the scenery with the built in camera you have been blessed with, your eyes.

(Could go one of two ways. You leave you phone alone and then come back to it and have a million messages and missed calls; winner. Or, none at all, which can be ever so slightly devestating. I'll leave you to decide whether you want to take the risk.)

At the end of the rainbow there are E numbers...

Once voted the best website of 2006 (fact I found on her 'about' section, I'll have to trust that it's accurate) I feel ashamed to have only just discovered not martha.

Heaped with arty archives, anything to keep restless hands at bay to create anything they desire.

The first page I came across was this sugary delight; Leprechaun Trap Cake.

It doesnt even look like cake; more like a weird centrepiece in some Alice in Wonderland wedding. Go onto the not martha page for an explaination of what a 'leprechaun trap' actually is, I shall not pinch material so shamelessly.

Watch this space for my own attempt of baking this cake... I'll try to keep it away from any children in fear of overloading them with sugar.

Interesting research or a waste of time?

For any of lovers of the weird and wonderful world we live in, have a peep at this video. It's from a show called 'Ants: Nature's Secret Power' and illuminates us as to what exactly does go on under our feet in the in a ant colony.

Relative to their size, these ants have created miles and miles of twists and turns, tunnels and chambers. To exposed this intricate city, the scientists had to pour ten tonnes of concrete down into the earth for four days, and then wait over a month before they could start digging the soil away around it. It completely blows my mind how something we would consider so insignificant as an ant, could form an army to create such a thing.

Now, as well as being interesting in itself, the comments that went along with this video on the website I found it discuss the bigger picture to this project. It seems this has triggered debates concerning the existence of God vs. mother nature, evolution and creationism, unnecessary cruelty or research in the name of science.

A few of the comments did in fact point out the ant hill was abandoned before it was pumped full of concrete. I'm sure they wouldn't mercilessly flood them out!

And what do you think? A waste of time? An incredible discovery? Proof of a designer or just a statement of evolution?

A Good Cause

Those of you with generous hearts should be aware that my darling brother and another close friend of mine are running the London Marathon in aid of Baby Lifeline on April 17th.

The charity is more or less self-explanatory in it's name - a much needed life line for babies and mothers.

To donate, go to either (or preferably both...) of these pages below:

http://www.justgiving.com/mike-nesbitt
http://www.justgiving.com/jameshiggins

Next time you travelling a long distance with a SatNav, sit there and see how long it takes you to drive 26.2 miles. Then, think of these poor fellows running it all.

After that, imagine the physical and emotional pain relieved by the work that Baby Lifeline does; pain much more than myself, James, or Mikey could ever comprehend.

On that note, give 'em some dosh! Call it your good deed for the day.

Mapping out the future

For all those fellow travellers out there stuck at home, if you don't have maps in your life already, get some. I find them the most therapeutic way to look forward to all those places I have yet to discover.

If you're looking for a beautiful map to be proud of for you home, I fully recommend The Future Mapping Company. Sleek, shiny, clear and huge, the map below adorns my wall. It has taken me a number of years to pluck up the courage to mark out the places I had been, for fear of piercing it's stunning exterior. However, with the help of some skinny map pins I came across, it has now been littered (show off) with my visited locations. I stare up at it before I go to bed, so I'm fully focused. Whilst I'm proud of all the places I've been, looking up at this reminds me of all the places I am yet to go.

I also have a little map pinned up on my desk at work, just for those moments where I think my work will never end.

I'm not gunna lie to you, Wales is crackin'

A few weekends ago on a Friday afternoon, I made the long journey to a little town called Porthcawl, just outside Cardiff. I've been to Wales a handful of times in my life, including an sixth form outdoor weekend that I loathed to attend at the time, and now wish I had been more enthusiastic about it all; oh how I've changed.

Wales has since become my happy place; visiting my friends there has always brought me peace, no matter what's going back home. This weekend was no exception. Not the kind of people to party away their bank accounts, having just married last year and looking to build a life independently, Katie and Rhod (guess who's Welsh...) had created a  perfect getaway space for me to escape to from time to time.

I have known Katie since I was seven, terrifyingly enough. So myself and Judy, another friend from school, tootled down the M5 for some good wholesome fun. On our first day, we took a breathtaking walk along the Southerndown for a long awaited chat. We were incredibly lucky with the weather; it felt like a beautiful spring day. This clearly meant the next stop was to dip our feet in the close by sea. (I think it's some kind of law that you need to get your toes wet if you're from the Midlands and find yourself near the sea.)

Next, a spot of high tea at Ogmore Tea Rooms, which is essentially someone's house with a converted front room. It was particularly busy when we arrived, so we were instructed to sit at the kitchen table. A little strange, but very accomodating and fantastic value. I had a sneaky view into the kitchen to watch a busy chef prepare some delicious home-cooked food; everything you could want from a tea room was present. Two crumpets, a piece of lemon drizzle cake and a whole pot of earl grey tea later, I was in a contented haze.

To top off our day, Katie had no choice but to take us to Barry Island and I found myself on an unofficial guided tour of the set of Gavin & Stacey. For those of you not familiar with it, it is British culture through and through; a must watch. For those of you who are,  I purchased a tea towel from Nessa's arcade emblazoned with 'I'm not gunna lie to you, Barry Island's crackin'', and was obliged to proclaim 'Oh!' in the very spot Ruth Jones did. Needless to say, Katie was fairly ashamed of me.

On the Sunday, Katie and Rhod attend their church in Porthcawl, Grace Commuinity. As many of my friends know, my religious beliefs are ambiguous. However, I thought if I'm happy to attend a temple on top of a hill in India, I should have no qualms with going to church in Wales. I wanted to experience something so close to the hearts of Katie and Rhod, a good enough reason to go I think. And, it was a much more enjoyable than the hangover I usually feel on a Sunday morning.

I used to attend church back home, so I knew what to expect, and I have to say it was a nice experience. It is a relatively new church without a building of their own; they use a sixth form centre at the local school. Even though I have no personal ties with Christinity, it was interesting to see how this small community of people are full of hope to build and expand, and I even felt a shiver of excitement for them as it clearly bought so much joy to their lives.

On a side note, I found this interesting article this morning about incense in churches (of course not used in the Church of England, more of a Catholic ritual). Maybe I'll start attanding more for incense's psychadelic influences...

Breathing in the fresh air of Wales, regardless of attending church, invigorates me. The connection I have with this part of Britain will always keep it as a place of refuge and to discover the great outdoors. I will always thank my friend Katie for moving there.