Thursday 5th April 07

Letter from the Editor.

Ladies and Gentlefolk, it would appear that the summer is

nearly upon us. I’ve had a t-shirt on all week, the sunroof has

been down and I’ve been frolicking around like a nun who has

just been given her first taste of ice cream.

Offices nationwide are discussing whether or not their bosses

will get them the air conditioning they deserve. (I’ll let you in on

a little secret, if your office environment is above 24°C it is legal

cause for you to finish work for the day).

Anyway before I get waylaid, over excited and ahead of myself

there have been more pressing matters this week. I was

shocked at the standard of the national press’s April Fools, Tony

Blair at the Old Vic, F1 Racing Trolleys, and most depressingly

was the BBC’s Scratch n Sniff webpage. I spent Sunday morn-

ing telling all and sundry that there were only 1000 of the new

£20 note and if you had one it was worth £1000, so don’t go

throwing it away now (this may actually be true!)

Now I know what you are all thinking…It’s Easter, good ol’ Eas-

ter weekend. It’s also Passover for me, so no bread this week

sonny, it also means that if you see Amy Winehouse suckling

down a pint at the Boat Race you can go and give her some

serious guilt! I’ve already notified my Italian Catholic friend of

the wheat problem, she’s having me, a vegetarian, a lactose

intolerant Yank and a carnivore round for lunch on Sunday. I

wish her the best of luck!

Inside this week we have all the best places to spend your

FOUR days so listen up and bear this in mind;

Whoever you are and wherever you are make sure that 72% of

the Easter Weekend is spent with a glass of wine/Pimms/beer in

your hand, 9% of it with a paint brush/drill/hammer in your hand

and the other 19% with an ice cream/baby/bucket and spade in

your spare hand.

Enjoy it for me people!

-Ed.

Contents

My big IsShoe

You are just a Number

London for Free

7 Stops

Today’s Special

Cultural Comment

Listen Up

Northern on the Northern Line

Nico

Last week I fell down a flight of stairs at work. To make matters worse it was the day of a big event I’d been planning for months, and of all the many disasters from my nightmares getting my heel caught in the stylishly oversized turn-up at the bottom of my new high-waisted trousers was not one of them! I was discovered by David from IT in a tangled web of waist-high grey and chin-high black, shoeless on the grubby floor. To make matters worse the gorgeous French porter then appeared – all concern and high cheek bones – and fetched a first aider. Within 3 minutes I had 3 men closely inspecting my pale, stubbly leg for any sign of swelling. The pain of this experience has only been superseded by the pain of the inconvenience of the injury. In the days that followed my right ankle swelled to the size

of my rather chunky calf. I was barely able to walk let alone drive or go to the gym (forcing me to switch to my emergency diet usually reserved for pre-holidays and special events), but worst of all I have been unable to utilise the vast majority of my menagerie of footwear. In fact, for the past week I have been forced to live in my trainers! Now, I am no trainer tyrant and indeed own a number of different brands and styles, however there is only so far a trainer can go. Trainers are obviously very happy in the gym; they are also the perfect accompaniment to a hangover on a Saturday morning or maybe a trip to the cinema, but under no circumstances will my trainers ever accompany me to a restaurant or a night on the town. This is simply out of the question! For me trainers are the unsuitable boyfriend or fat friend of footwear; they are

fine in casual situations, but you would not want to be seen fraternising with them in finer company. Needless to say this week has been very hard for me. With such restrictions on footwear (not to mention the fact that I have also been sporting a rather unattractive knee high tubular support bandage) styling has been a nightmare, and I hit an all time low on Wednesday when in desperation I almost considered a long skirt/trainer combo. Thankfully once I made it through this dark period I was back to my usual self and able to adopt a far more philosophical outlook, and started to contemplate the significance of footwear. My dad used to know a man who swore you could tell everything about a person simply by looking at their footwear, and after much complex research I am beginning to think

he may be right. The Northern line is the perfect place for a spot of shoe snooping, and that is what I’ve done. I have noticed that people’s shoes are often quite different from the rest of their image, and I think I know why: Although many people feel constrained in their choice of clothes, hair styles and make up by their parents, partners, jobs and society in general, there isn’t this same sense of restriction when it comes to shoes, which means that it is through footwear that people are often most expressive and experimental. You should look for yourself; next time you’re on the train take a few minutes to look at your fellow passenger’s footwear; then look up and view the rest of them. In fact, more importantly, try it next time you’re on a first date, and ask yourself, ‘could I grow to love those shoes?!’

editor@theothersidemag.

my big isShoe

…in their BIG Black Book! And your number is likely to be something along the lines of 010101110001010101 ad infinituum. I got one too, we all do and they’re all relentlessly binary. Logged, locked and eminently locatable! They been working on the B B B for decades now, offering us air miles every time we offer up our loyalty cards and the like, taking from us miles and miles of data to ensure our continuing fealty. It’s continualy being updated, and we’re signed, sealed and delivered into the monster equation of global stability. Anyone not with me should get the Beeb’s doco “The Trap: Where did our freedom go?” Like Jim White says; ‘most of the time you think you’re playing, most times it’s you that’s being played… by them Buzzards’. (Buzzards: closely related to Squirrels!) Thing is, we’re culpable. Our insatiable appetite for fear and shame, our avoidance of responsibility and a willingness to hand over the reins has played right into the hands of them Buzzards and their need for control. In recompense they palm us off with feeble baubles in a vast array of colours, the sum total of their munificence and we keep coming back for more. What’s more this is not a reward it’s to assuage our

editor@theothersidemag.

YOU ARE JUST A NUMBERBY CARDROWSKI

guilt and grief over a life lived less than beautifully, behind a desk at the Great Bird’s beck and call, gathering evidence for the insatiable data base, at a screen designing a new cover. Whatever, it’s a mere addendum to the B B B. And if all that sounds too terrifyingly Orwellian in it’s vision, if we agree that The Buzzards do indeed seem to have all the avenues blocked off, corralling us into clinical malls where they own all the shops and restaurants, factory outlets, gyms and feel-bad advert space, fear not, because there is a glitch in their Plan. The Great Editors of the B B B have amassed their pages without accounting for Humanity in ALL its wonder. They would reduce you and I to fearful grunts of an entirely selfish bent, lacking thoughts of altruism, any hope for communality or aspiration for creativity beyond changing the programme on the TV, the colour of the car, the shape of that which takes the edge of our discomfort. They would have us be the Norton character in ‘Fight Club’ hating his job and spending his cash online at Ikea, too fearful to step outside his limp, green, boxy flat. Even the Pitt character, with his feeble nihilism and dead end ‘FEELING’, can probably be assimilated into the matrix of 0s and 1s. Not to mention

the losers, Loaf and B-Carter. So, how about this, a spaniard in the works, a splash of Sonrise Yeller in their black and white, off/on world? A little hard fought and well thought generosity. A little loving the alien, helping the Granny, or sharing the spoils and enjoying the craick. Buy something unadvertised. Send half your clothes to Africa. Invite to tea the person that most scares the shit outta you. Find a member of the great unwashed and wash his/her feet. Invest your cash in a guaranteed return; People. You with me? What if the numbers started misbehaving? Behaving as nature intended rather than the performing seals we have become? A performing seal driven by fear is never more than a slave, no matter that it enjoys as much fish as it can eat. It is time to overturn the long held dictum “You can stand for freedom and you will probably lose. You can vote for slavery and you will definitely win.” What will you lose? Your chains, my friend. And voting for slavery what would you win? More fish and a pension. Until age renders you unable to perform the tricks you’ve learnt so painstakingly, after some bulging buzzard has bowdlerized your rainy day stash! Some obviously clever, but ultimately idiotic, Gazillionaire once said, in response to the truth

that ‘You can’t take it with ya when you go’, that in that case he wasn’t “going”! He probably left a vast array of 1’s and 0’s in some bank’s B B B, earning uncollectible interest for years and years. It was thirty years ago this summer that we had the last summer of love. About time for another? Better conceived, more rigourously practised, more generously enjoyed and bearing in mind the horrorific end of the last one at Altamont on that cold, malevolent, December night. Of course it probably won’t be happening this year at all, but if we jump on a wagon that in all probability has been rolling awhile (if it ever stopped) then maybe in a coupla years we might have another shot at consigning the B B B to a library where future generations can study it and laugh at our presumptuousness in traipsing the Globe to deliver ‘freedom’ to people who were quite happy to make their own chairs and tables. God forbid, but they might even be happily eating whilst sitting on the floor, discarding bones and ephemera on the willing earth. For as Clint so dryly observed “Buzzards gotta eat, same as worms” Much more satisfying to have the Buzzards eating our leftovers than feeding off our fear.

editor@theothersidemag.

YOU ARE JUST A NUMBERBY CARDROWSKI

LONDON FOR FREE by samuel dafoe

Private views are the new after work drink, they are taking place all over London on a daily basis, literally from Shoreditch to Chelsea and then up to Camberwell via East Finchley. Best of all the chances are you don’t really need an invitation, because the people on the door are so goddam scared of asking who you are, just in case you have £50,000 in your back pocket ready to drunkenly throw at the new artist on the block. Point proven, Thursday last week. It was one of those busy arty evenings in town and also one of those evenings where the rich kids come out to play, namely at Sotheby’s. I was invited along as an outsider to view the proceedings, prior to taking in the Andreas Gursky private view just off Piccadilly. You walk into the Auction House, greeted by a man in a top hat and a lady with a clipboard. The girl I was with explained that myself and a friend were “with her.” In we walk, greeted firstly by cloakroom staff, then once bags and jackets are down handed a glass of bottomless Pink Champagne (A little like the magic coke glasses they have at Nando’s or Pizza Hut). The idea is then to stand around and look vaguely interested in something, There was art by Warhol, Lichtenstein, Miro and the like, the stuff that is easily accessible for the young socialites. With our glasses topped up we were greeted by food, foie gras burgers, quail’s eggs with crispy bacon and strangely salted doughnuts, supposedly enticing more drink to flow and more money to be splashed. We decided to leave and head 5 minutes down the road to the Andreas Gursky opening. This time there wasn’t even a doorperson. In we strode to be greeted by the hustle and bustle of freewheeling art students and a glass of Moet. Two glasses later and the overcrowded Gallery was less appealing than the money soaked Sotheby’s. So…back we headed, this time when asked at the door for our names, my response was something in the region of “We were here, but we left to see the Gursky” to which “Oh, I am sorry, have you signed up to the young collectors club?” was the response. Evidently neither I nor my companion had and we duly did, with a special interest in antique guns. We are now on the

young socialite list, invitations to all the champagne receptions will be flooding in and Thursday nights will be well and truly sussed for the next few years. I insist that next time you want to do something on the cheap in London, find yourself a private view. Walk in looking high brow or artsy and help yourself to some of London’s free champagne and foie gras!

‘pop’

FL

editor@theothersidemag.co.uk

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MAKE DOHERTY HISTORY #005

We cannot be bothered to make Doherty history anymore since he has become just a speck of dust in our lives. Leave him alone and if you see him, say hello

from us. Sorry Pete

NEXT TIMEExclusive New Young Pony Club content

A recipe for literally the best pudding ever!Everybody has a twist on Bread and Butter pudding. Here is mine!

You’ll needSome BriocheSome Chocolate CroissantsSome Kahlua (the more the merrier as they say)Some Eggs (3 eggs plus 2 extra yolks)Some Double Cream (500mls)Some Sugar (350g)

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This might be possible. We are not sure. Please try it.If it is possible send your solutions in and we will rewardyou accordingly. Kind Regards, Ed.

- Butter your dish, it should have high sides about 2/3 inches and preheat the oven to 180°C- Mix up your eggs, cream, sugar and kahlua to make a custard mix.- Next tear the brioche and croissants apart and squash them in to your baking dish- Pour over the custard mix and squash down even more.- Sprinkle the top with brown sugar- Place in the oven for about 30 mins. The sugar should have caramelised.- Serve immediately and watch as the custard oozes out all over the plate! YUM!

EastFinchley

Highgate

Archway

Hampstead

Euston Angel

Kings Cross Old Street

BrentCross

GoldersGreen

BelsizePark

TufnellPark

ChalkFarm

KentishTown

CamdenTown

MorningtonCrescent

WarrenStreet

GoodgeStreet

Moorgate

Bank

TottenhamCourt Road

Leicester Square

Charing Cross

Embankment

Waterloo

London Bridge

Borough

Elephant Kennington

Oval

Stockwell

ClaphamNorth

ClaphamCommon

The best things going on in and around the Northern line both sides of the River

The Boat Race

Ghost Train

The Insomniacs BallMaximo Park

The Phoenix

The Geordie boys are in Archwayof all places performing songsfrom their new album ‘Our Earthly Pleasures’Promises to be quite an intimate eventso get there early to avoiddisappointment. THURSDAY 5th!

Pure Groove Records, 679 Holloway Rd, Archway

Entrance: FREE

Loadsa bands for a crazy Sunday includingIlla Man + Freedom Of Expression +

Queens English + Blabbermouth + Idioverse + 2nd Class Citizen +

Reptiles + Bombay Monkey + .Subsource + Kids In Tracksuits +

Infinite Livez + Mazdafari

rivington st.

Whether you can’t sleep orwon’t sleep the Insomniacsball is the perfect start to your Easter Weekend. Brakesand Shakes are the highlightBands.

SeOne7.30 - 6.30£21.50

After your busy Easter weekend some winding downwill be much needed. Where better to do this in therecently refurbished Phoenix Cinema just by East Finchley Station.Showing in the next few weeksare ‘Days of Glory’ and‘The Lives of Others’£4 on a Monday

There are boats and it’s a racebetween two of England’s most dubiousUniversities. Oxford and Cambridge. Go along to the river, have a Pimms, have a picnic, have a croissant, have a baby, have a lime, if you are having a lime you should probably have a corona.I think you get the picture. Just make sure you look as the boats go past you!Change at Embankment for Putney Bridge

Ok, so it’s on the EastLondon line but this isa pretty cool outing.The Brunel Museum is running tours through theThames Tunnel accompaniedby Ghost Stories.Sunday 8 April£2Tube RotherhitheChange at Waterloo onto theJubilee Line then hop onto the East London Line.

CARGO

Sunday 8April

If you would like to advertise something in 7 stops then please contact us at editor@theothersidemag.co.uk

£1@1pm, £2@2pm, £3@3pm and so on

1pm-1am

All Star LanesBowling at it’s absolutefinest. 50’s style dinerand cocktails complimentthe jive-tastic music andfast action bowling lanes.You’ll be glad to know that the scoring is automatic sothere is no fiddling aboutwith adding up. Make sureyou book!Bloomsbury Place

7 Stops

EastFinchley

Highgate

Archway

Hampstead

Euston Angel

Kings Cross Old Street

BrentCross

GoldersGreen

BelsizePark

TufnellPark

ChalkFarm

KentishTown

CamdenTown

MorningtonCrescent

WarrenStreet

GoodgeStreet

Moorgate

Bank

TottenhamCourt Road

Leicester Square

Charing Cross

Embankment

Waterloo

London Bridge

Borough

Elephant Kennington

Oval

Stockwell

ClaphamNorth

ClaphamCommon

The best things going on in and around the Northern line both sides of the River

The Boat Race

Ghost Train

The Insomniacs BallMaximo Park

The Phoenix

The Geordie boys are in Archwayof all places performing songsfrom their new album ‘Our Earthly Pleasures’Promises to be quite an intimate eventso get there early to avoiddisappointment.

Pure Groove Records, 679 Holloway Rd, Archway

Entrance: FREE

Loadsa bands for a crazy Sunday includingIlla Man + Freedom Of Expression +

Queens English + Blabbermouth + Idioverse + 2nd Class Citizen +

Reptiles + Bombay Monkey + .Subsource + Kids In Tracksuits +

Infinite Livez + Mazdafari

rivington st.

Whether you can’t sleep orwon’t sleep the Insomniacsball is the perfect start to your Easter Weekend. Brakesand Shakes are the highlightBands.

SeOne7.30 - 6.30£21.50

After your busy Easter weekend some winding downwill be much needed. Where better to do this in therecently refurbished Phoenix Cinema just by East Finchley Station.Showing in the next few weeksare ‘Days of Glory’ and‘The Lives of Others’£4 on a Monday

There are boats and it’s a racebetween two of England’s most dubiousUniversities. Oxford and Cambridge. Go along to the river, have a Pimms, have a picnic, have a croissant, have a baby, have a lime, if you are having a lime you should probably have a corona.I think you get the picture. Just make sure you look as the boats go past you!Change at Embankment for Putney Bridge

Ok, so it’s on the EastLondon line but this isa pretty cool outing.The Brunel Museum is running tours through theThames Tunnel accompaniedby Ghost Stories.Sunday 8 April£2Tube RotherhitheChange at Waterloo onto theJubilee Line then hop onto the East London Line.

CARGO

Sunday 8April

If you would like to advertise something in 7 stops then please contact us at editor@theothersidemag.co.uk

£1@1pm, £2@2pm, £3@3pm and so on

1pm-1am

All Star LanesBowling at it’s absolutefinest. 50’s style dinerand cocktails complimentthe jive-tastic music andfast action bowling lanes.You’ll be glad to know that the scoring is automatic sothere is no fiddling aboutwith adding up. Make sureyou book!Bloomsbury Place

editor@theothersidemag.co.uk

rs

Today’s Special

With the Easter Weekend fast approaching we thought it would be a good time to offer up some tip-top advice. We have sent out largely illiterate scouts, with the fastest hands to find you the most swashbuckling four day weekend that London and the Northern Line has to offer you.

Morning...and to you kind sir...erm...Get an early start and head for the new Gorilla Kingdom at London Zoo. With an indoor gym, a moated Island and heated rocks some might say the monkey’s have got it better than we do! Take a packed lunch and go and eat with the penguins.

Afternoon...you are quite polite...make your way back down to Camden’s Stables and get your hands messy painting pottery at Painted Earth. If the kids have still got anything left in them then a trip over the road to Marine Ices for some serious knickerbocker glory action is needed.

It has to be said that waking up to Saturday Kitchen is probably the best way to start your day. Not only can you talk the talk about what’s fresh but you can show off your wine purchasing skills too (save these for Monday). Anyway onto better things, 1245 find a pub/bar/mates house and watch the Chelski V Spurs game, no predictions from this writer. Afterwards take a hop, skip and a jump on to the old Line and make your way into town for some frolicking amongst men, think about being cultural, imagine the face of old Aunt Mavis on Easter Sunday when you tell her about your day out....So, it’s one of three places for you;

1) Surreilism in the V & A, it’s the way forward and oh so easy to blab on about how everything just represents the flaccid penis!2) There are a bunch of Monet paintings at the Royal Academy, your auntie will especially like this3) Andreas Gursky at the end of Grafton Street. Massive photographs that may or may not have been manipulated. Discuss.

Come the evening the fishy half of the old favourite Lee and Herring makes his way to the Arts theatre in WC2, nearest tube is Leicester Square and tickets are £12.50

a fun packed FRIDAY for the whole family

a sizzling SATURDAY for the boys

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editor@theothersidemag.co.uk

March 2007

March 2007 March 2007

March 2007

Our editor and northerner tried this. They thought it was delectable! Our ‘lactard’ designer hopes innocent will make some soya options so she can also enjoy a breakfast thickie.

Did you see Louis Theroux on Sunday night, talking to the most hated family in America? I’d be interested to hear their views on Easter Sunday! Anyway my view is spend it with friends, eat, drink, relax a bit, you have Monday off so there is no worry about going to work the next day. If you are going somewhere for lunch, creme eggs and hot cross buns go down pretty well.If you’re not out to Lunch take a trip to Old Street and make your way down to Cargo for 12 hours of Bank Holiday mayhem starting at 1pm. They have the best of the Capital’s newest acts. Tickets are £1 @ 1pm, £2 @ 2 and so on until 8 where the buck stops at £8.

It’s that day of the year where Hombase/B&Q/Texas (doesn’t that still exist) fill up to hellish capacity. We’ve all been there, paint/shelves/laminate flooring. Don’t worry about it darlin’ Normally by Tuesday the builders are in and £500 saved is turned into £1000 spent!Get out of there, take your wife/girlfriend/mistriss/boyfriend/husband/toyboy on a romantic day out. Escape the capital if you will but I recommend this: a long long long walk. Start at Greenwich and make your way along the Thames path to the London Eye. Take in The Cutty Sark, Nelson’s Dock, Canary Wharf, Tower Bridge, Southwark Cathedral and numerous other London Landmarks. Make sure you take provisions, a Twix is imperative, but for the more audacious a loving picnic featuring the best of the things you saw on Saturday Kitchen would be ideal.

slow/speedy SUNDAY at mums/grans/catholic mates

made it to MONDAY. DIY anyone?

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Cultural Comment

So the Other Side Magazine had the pleasure of sending one of its finest reporters along to the South by South West Festival in Texas. How? I hear you cry. Well he was actually already going it just seemed like an idea for him to write a review. Unfortunately he rather overstepped the mark on his ‘Word Count’ quota so we have kindly edited it down for him. Much of the article will be seen as a or x. Was a band good? Yessir, therefore a a is required. Read on reader. SXSW Day 1 – 1:16am Central time. It’s been a long day. The plane left Gatwick at 10:25am and I didn’t get to the hotel until 1am the next day. But three bands, about five dinners and six Tecates (a beer for you uneducated folk) and a splash of Vodka-Cranberry later, it’s time for bed! After the check-in and wading through the madness of getting my

badge I ended up seeing The Automatic -a, Fionn O’Lochlainn -a It’s now 2:32am (my day started at 25 hours ago)SXSW Day 2 – Saw Amy Winehouse #1, Saw Bloc Party - half aSXSW Day 3 – Friday started out with a great breakfast at the world-class Las Manitas. After lunch I went to the Island Records party. The line up for the party was Amy Winehouse, Scott Matthews, The Rumble Strips, Mika and the Fratellis. Winehouse (that is sighting #2) was true to form, not as good as the last time I saw her in Cannes, but not bad for a gig at 3:30 on a Friday afternoon a. The Rumble Strips a, Mika was terrible x, way too over-hyped. The Fratellis on the other hand were fantastic a one of the best gigs that I saw during the whole festival. About two hours, plenty of Sol and a quick listen at The Watson Twins

gig, it was dinner at the Moonshine Grill. Before too long we found ourselves in the back of one of Austin’s many pedi-cabs. We ended up at La Zona Rosa. By the time we got there it was packed and Amy Winehouse (spotting #3) was on stage, the second time I had seen her that day and she was in much better form. A few more pints and some Vodka Tonics and we were off to see Antibalas at Antone’s. Antibalas a.Back in the pedi-cab, we then cruised over to Subb’s to see The Good, The Bad and The Queen. Less than impressive, between Paul’s posing and Damon’s lurching about I’m not too sure about the set up. It was also a bit grim at 1 in the morning to be listening to something so down-beat. Unfortunately this is where the story ends. Matt lost his press pass to the festival and was unable to get into anymore of the shows. Unlucky for him but lucky for you reader as there will be no more tormenting of what you missed out on. Meanwhile back in London can I get a show of hands who got Glastonbury tickets. The once freewheeling hippie-fest has turned pretty sour. How’s it working? I mean if you want to go with a bunch of mates what happens if you get a ticket and buddy A, B and C don’t? How many people are going to be walking around the festival this year friendless and generally worked up at Mr Eavis and the Mean Mean Fiddler Security group and when I say mean I mean mean!

j

editor@theothersidemag.co.uk

I’ve always wanted to be a super-fit, super-human athlete but although I’m naturally quite active, I lack one major thing. Discipline. I opened a Sunday paper shortly after Christmas and the ideal solution was laid out before me. British Military Fitness (BMF) was the subject of an article on alternatives to the gym, which I find soul-destroyingly dull. I went along to a free introductory session and this is what happened. Fifty people gather in a car park on Hampstead

Heath on a dark and chilly January night. I’m freezing and a little nervous, my hands ready to drop off. We get split into three groups and I opt for the middle group, don a red bib and a scary man with arms bigger than my torso puts us into two ranks. We run to a tree and back. All good. A competitive streak bolts through me and on the next run to the tree I do everything I can to come first. Ten sprints later I am drenched in sweat, I’m over dressed wearing just a t-shirt and shorts

in January. I don’t know if I can carry on at this pace. The scary man barks orders. We touch the ground, we hop, we do 10 push ups and get right back up to sprint. There’s still no way I’m coming second but at this point I really want my mum. I get round the tree and back to the instructor and hooray! I’m first. My joy is tempered because I am now promoted to the advanced group. I have been pushed to my absolute limit and only ten minutes of this hour long session have passed. No mercy though. The advanced instructor runs off into the dark woods with a bike light strapped to his back and we, the eight poor souls who’ve made it into this group, run after him. Fifty minutes later we do a warm down, stretch and pat each other on the back. I feel so good that I am convinced that I am quite literally invincible. All the pain and suffering

slide into the past and I run

home with an immovable grin on my face. Every muscle in my body is perversely ecstatic at having been pushed so hard but it seems like I personally had made no effort. All the real work was taken care of by the instructor. If not for him I would certainly have given up after ten minutes and gone home, eaten a chocolate bar and watched telly. Instead, I’ve signed up to do BMF three times a week and I feel a massive difference in my fitness and after the first session I decided to run the London marathon, the training for which seems almost easy in comparison. I would recommend BMF to anyone who wants to get fit, although some friends who’ve tried it thought it was humiliating and tortuous, I can’t wait for the next session.

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Coming out of Elephant and Castle at any time of day is not pleasant but in the evening you do have the advantage of not being blinded by the pink shopping centre. However being from North of the river and usually keeping to the ‘safe’ territories of Upper Street, Shoreditch and Chalk Farm we always seem to convince ourselves that there is an other added risk involved. Gun’s, Gangs, and things that go bump in the night were top of my list of things to look out for, but it wasn’t to be and we followed the crowds off the tube and round the back to Corsica Studios where Real Gold were hosting the International Amalgamation Of Champions. Greeted at the door by three rather jovial bouncers, anything to declare they asked…nope, they couldn’t search us due to licensing which

was all the more reason for being frustrated at not taking our own booze. They did however request we handed in any felt tips; being a keen colourer in, I passed over my pink and orange highlighter pens

making sure I picked them up on the way out. What malice I could have done with them apart from highlighting the drinks

prices at the bar confused me slightly. The bar was cheap and cheerful too, Budvar bottles for £2 and varied shots for the same price was refreshing. In the main room, Dev from now deceased

band Test Icicles was on stage debuting his new funny hip-hop project before being invited into an MC battle which he

was certainly winning, until he was jeered off the stage for appearing to be racist. People were literally shaking their fists at him. The swift turn over of bands, dj’s and MC’s meant the evening ran rather smoothly. The music was good and the place was bustling from the moment we walked in, live music came in the form of DMX Krew with DJ sets from Pranchall and Ronojoy Dam amongst others. The night moved quickly and by 4am we had to work out a way back to West Hampstead from the Elephant. Two Buses and a cab later and we’d made it, leaving one friend sitting on a speaker in the venue waiting for the first tube.

All in all a great night out. Look out for more from Real Gold in the future.

Benjamin Cole

LISTEN UP

The International Amalgamation Of Champions Corsica Studios Friday March 30th 2007

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Northern at San Carlo

editor@theothersidemag.co.uk

Northern on the Northern Line by Peter Quinn

I don’t go out to eat a lot, my bank manager won’t allow it. He wants me tied up in the basement, feeding only on the rainwater that drips from the ceiling, and rats that creep round my feet. But as a newbie in London, keen to seek my fortune and fate, I called out for some direction, and received it via the holy medium of a Fifi-P, advising in an email that I should go out and feed myself. The place would be San Carlo, a newly refurbished restaurant in Highgate. I had been told to expect an ‘uber-chic’ reception, so I took along my company credit card instead of my own!Some dude on the phone told me that booking was not necessary on a Friday night, good job as my bit of fluff (great expression isn’t it?!) is late for everything.I had dressed as smartly as a slob like me can dress. When I was greeted at the reception area and asked for my coat I wished I’d worn more than just a toga, some antlers, a spiderman mask and flip-flops. O well! ‘Have you booked, sir?’ ‘No way, chief!’ ‘Then I’ll have to speak to the manager!’

A promising start! The manager came over and saw us to a table, charming and smart. ‘Would you like some wine?’ I was tempted to order one of each (red, white, pink) then I remembered I was in a swanky place, where they probably have further options within said categories, and ordering one of each could end in a pile of sick and a stronger beating from my bank Führer. We (meaning she) chose a white – not my favourite, but hey-ho, it wasn’t bad. A selection of polite waiters and waitresses offered us water and fresh bread (olive or cranberry

– both excellent!) and left us feeling very well pampered. We then had time to note the other clientele. Generally well presented and grey-haired, though it was a Friday night, and most young-uns would be on the end of a cheap vodka bottle in preparation for a night of annihilation in some sweat shop. Families would also fit in nicely here. The lucky strumpet I’d chosen to take out that evening (both blind and deaf, may I add!) was, and still is, a vegetarian. Outside, we had been promised that a person of the vegetable persuasion would be heavily catered for. As it turned out, provided they liked pasta, all would be fine. I ordered a lamb shank with white wine gravy and garlic and chorizo mash. Mmmm!!! And it really was! Meat done to perfection, falling off the bone. Just the right amount of everything. Nice presentation. The pasta dish that ‘she-who-must-be-obeyed’ ordered was likewise very tasty, and more than she could eat. Both dishes were presented quickly and politely. We decided that dessert would make us explode, and as

the establishment had left such a pleasant impression on us, it might be deemed a little out of taste if we were to splatter our guts and entrails over the walls and all, just because we wanted something sweet to taste.Reluctantly, I agreed to allow the manager the sadistic pleasure of presenting me with the bill. I held my breath, gritted my teeth and peeked……. To my surprise, there was nothing to worry about. I even thought something may have been left off the bill, but no-sirree-bob - all present and correct, and by no means fatal! I’d like to thank Fifi-P for enlightening me to the San Carlo restaurant. Thanks Fifi-P. San Carlo fed me good food, at a good price, in nice surroundings, with pleasant and attendant staff, and left me feeling…..nice and happy! And they all lived happily ever after! If you have anywhere you’d like to send me, email your suggestions to n o r t h e r n @theothersidemag.co.uk and I may just pop up there!

Bribery always welcome!

I wished I’d worn more than just a toga, some antlers, a spiderman mask and flip-flops.

2 Highgate High Street, Highgate London N6 5JL T:0208 340 5823

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