With all the antics of the KingofDumbfuckistan in Washington DC, supported by his MentalAgility’sGoneAway(MAGA) movement, my regular visits to NOLA simply had to stop. So, it was to my great delight on a current trip to (proper) York that I find NOLA has come to me…
With an upstairs restaurant and occasional downstairs jazz venue, the New Orleans essence is there to be fully experienced.
On the menu, right out of Louisiana, we have Jambalaya, Gumbo, CajunMonkfish, and CreoleDirtyRice…
Creole BriocheBreadPudding can only be accompanied by the classic Sazerac cocktail…
And yes, a few jazz classics sublimely finish off the perfect vibe…
Until we speak again, the only let down comes when you leave the venue, luxuriating in the many wonderful New Orleans memories… to step into a cold damp January UK night.
100 years on from the Weimar Republic, Berlin has much to remember. From Weimar to Third Reich to a dividedcity to the FalloftheWall. Has any other city witnessed, experienced, suffered, and emerged from so much in such a relatively short time?
One woman immortalises the changes in a statue that is calling out for peace before the Brandenburg Gate.
The most significant remembrance surrounds the plight of Jews, in Berlin and across Europe. The Jewish Museum in the West Kreuzberg district is a Daniel Libeskind design, most disorientating in architecture, as its floors and walls disobey the builders spirit level. But its content is a creatively laid out history of Jewish faith, culture, and history.
For a particularly deep chill, spend a minute or two in the dark and claustrophobic Holocaust Tower…
However, for heightened emotion the MemorialtotheMurderedJewsofEurope provides a space for reflection and imagination. The undulating topography accommodates a dense array of grey concrete pillars of differing heights…
Walk deep into the sculpture and be immersed in your own thoughts. Then visit the enclosed museum beneath the sculture for heartbreaking personal accounts of the effect of the Third Reich across Europe.
On the site of the former GestapoHeadquarters now stands an open air monument to the history of division in the city, running alongside a remaining fragment of the infamous BerlinWall. Known as the Topography of Terror, it depicts the major changes of the last 100 years, and horrific consequences of those changes.
The division of the city is particularly well represented in the Friedrichshain district of old EastBerlin. Here is the longest fragment of the former wall. At 1 mile in length it’s considered to be the world’s largest open air gallery. East Side Gallery is a feast of modern art. What better way to democratise a former harsh symbol of division…
Until we speak again, Berliners have shown a remarkable capacity to remember its tragic recent history with vibrancy and humour. 100 years on from the ugly emergence of the Nazi Party in Germany, is the rest of the world once again failing to learn the lessons of history?
With the ChiefNarcissist of Dumbfuckistan in Washington buddying up to PsychopathOne in the Kremlin, and the rise of populism in every western nation, we need the current day messages from Berlin more than ever before.
So, my lovely reader, you now know Berlin has a penchant for the ChristmasMarket… orWeihnachten Markt, as the locals say. Is that all you think I spent my precious time doing? Drinking Glugwein (inc. a Weiss beer version), eating Bratwurst and that lovely smokedsalmon?
So, the sound of Berlin has always had that underground bohemian vibe (or perhaps that’s just me). Think the Sally Bowles character in Cabaret (or perhaps that’s just me). The challenge… should I accept it (or perhaps that’s… forget that bit)… is to see if the modern Berlin lives up to its historic reputation.
First stop… A-Trane. Well, I’ve only just arrived a few hours ago. How’s a guy supposed to hit the ‘bohemia’ ground running (or, perhaps that’s just me)?
Perhaps not underground, exactly. But, the overground version provided a great intro to the local jazz scene with Andreas Schmidt and friends doing a regular Monday night slot. Something of the avant garde style to welcome me to the sound of Berlin.
Getting genuinely down underground you need to shift along the alphabet a space. B-Flat, is a club in the HackescherMarkt area. An unassuming entrance and staircase leads you into more traditional jazz territory… subterranean (or perhaps that’s just me).
Nothing traditional about KRiSPER, an electric jazz ensemble. Playing just their own compositions, with superb musicianship. There was a definite wowfactor to the atmospheric style of their music (or perhaps that’s just me).
Then, keeping that overground-underground feel… TheHatClub feels like it belongs in that Cabaret-era of 1930’s kind of thing, competing with the sound of trains overhead (or perhaps that’s just me)…
It’s a nightly jamsession in one of those rare places that permits smoking throughout 😷 Initially very lounge sounding (or perhaps that’s just me). But as the VieuxCarre cocktails slipped down the sound distinctly blocked out the rumbling of trains overhead (or… well, no not that… it does occupy a railway arch… ah, you didn’t see that one coming).
Until we speak again, falling off the chair, after too many local beers and fabcocktails, is permitted (or perhaps that’s just me!!!!!!).
With America’s decision to inflict a further four years of the narcissistic pathological liar on the rest of the world, there seems little reason to afford them the previous levels of attention. Even some of their historic cultural characteristics no longer provide a reason to spend a dime in their direction.
About 100 years ago, the speakeasy was America’s quintessential creation for getting around prohibition. For the last 10 years Cardiff has its own version (without the prohibition) with its own discreet method of entry…
Yes, I’m missing my regular visits to New Orleans. But, the first ever cocktail, Sazerac, created in NOLA, is ably recreated here on my own doorstep…
The Dead Canary (What We Do In The Shallows) also has a uniquely Welsh twist, with a creative drinks menu that includes stories of Welsh coastal history attached to each unique cocktail…
And some quite uniquely presented concoctions. Who needs a glass when you can drink your rum-basedcocktail out of a skull? This one named WalterandtheWreckers…
Until we speak again, the speakeasy is alive and well, and discreetly open in a quiet back alleyway in Cardiff city centre…
Yes, I know, that’s a crazy statement in so many ways. I was a townplanner many years ago, so please… hear me out. There are rare moments in life when the planningsystem fails to completely fuck everything up.
Don’t get me wrong, it’s not with the intention of doing something good… that hardly aligns with the built-in values system. No, accidents do happen, and sometimes with wonderful consequences.
Take the Salutation pub in tbe university area of Manchester, for example. I was there when it stood alone in acres of cleared derelict land back in the 1970’s. Now, surrounded by modernism on all sides, it’s survival is all the more heroic. Particularly, as it’s largely a student-run enterprize these days…
Then, there’s the issue of what to do with old underground Victorianpublictoilets. In most cases, at ground level, they are rusting gates and railings secured by a sturdy lock and chain. Left as eyesores to blight the urban landscape, while desperate passers-by go in search of somewhere for a leak.
But, on Great Bridgewater Street in the centre of Manchester something altogether different is happening. For nearly 30 years, TheTemple (ofConvenience) has been welcoming thirsty punters… and not just for the relief of a good slash!
Until we speak again, don’t just knock the townplanners, raise a glass or two to celebrate their occasional mishaps!
It seems my current focus on liquidity knows no end. For those of you wondering if Manchester has anything non-pub related… well, these are my 50thanniversaryrecollections, so you’ll just have to go and see for yourself?
Some assets hold more liquidity than others. It appears memory is one. So, it’s 50 years since I got a train from Cardiff to Manchester to do the student thing.
A time for nostalgia, I thought. Retrace some of the steps that memory serves me… though it also seems ‘progress’ may have erased a few.
Did I really drink my way through 4 years of studies? Is that what many students really do? Relying on muscle memory alone seems to be pointing that way.
Hydes, Holts, Robinsons, et al, occupy much of my mental bandwidth. They refresh the mind to cope with sad reflections on hostelries since closed down.
Manchester is a wonderful city in so many different ways. But there’s little that’s drawing my attention, on this particular journey into nostalgia, that doesn’t have liquidity at its heart.
Until we speak again, it appears my two favourites back in the day… the Jolly Angler in Ancoats and the WhiteSwan in Fallowfield… both succumbed. I guess liquidity didn’t come to their rescue in the final reckoning.
Unwittingly, 2025 is turning into the ‘without‘ tour. Previously, on Junos View, Dundee was explored without the famous cake. Now, that unpronounceable place (to foreigners and indigenous idiot’s) – Wuss-ter, has been discovered without any of the Lea & Perrins strange brown thing (sauce).
So, here’s the thing…
Once upon a time, across the border, there’s this old thing… called Ingerlund. And, it’s full of these really old things… called cities, and towns, and things. Some are older than others, but Worcester is definitely an older thing.
If you’re coming here, it’s probably going to be a history thing… particularly if you’re into Tudor things.
Or, maybe, it’s a religious thing… with a particularly impressive one of those cathedral things.
Then again, perhaps it’s an imbibing thing… with a good few of those old pub-like things.
But, it’s definitely an eating thing. Though, in my case, the pieandapint thing was fully booked up… so it had to be an Anatolian thing…
Then again, for me it’s that strange notion of being the largest place in the UK by population I haven’t visited, thing… until now. After all, that’s what Dundee was prior to Worcester.
Until we speak again, it used to be a thing… now it’s done! As for you, it depends on your thing…
Is Cardiff more than the sum of its parts? That’s a more difficult equation than you might think. After all, it has at least six quarters for starters! As I gaze over the dock feeder canals surrounding Chez Juno, I’m thinking of adding a ‘Duck & Swan Quarter‘ into the mix (?).
Looking at any city these days, it’s increasingly difficult to determine the DNA when so many multinationals populate identikit shopping malls. But, here in the ‘Diff, we at least still have ‘TheArcades‘. Yes, other cities have an arcade or two, but here, the city centre has somehow retained six of its originals within Cardiff Council‘s thirst for demolishing sections of its history.
I would write my own personal tribute, but I can’t top that of Joao Morais…
With full acknowledgement to the original source, I replicate an ‘OdeToTheCityOfArcades‘ for those of you with failing eyesight:
Now if you truly had to choose
what Cardiff things would you enthuse?
A Central Market hot Welsh cake?
A pedalo round Roath Park lake?
The revelry of rugby days?
Pontcanna, Splott, The Bay, Cathays?
Consider, though, you may have missed
our FINE ARCADES from off your list.
They’re beautiful, you must concur,
ideal to any choice flaneur,
and full of any experts who
delight in sharing what they do.
You want a vape, a tailored shirt,
a pair of shoes, a vintage skirt?
A hair cut, board game, something sweet?
A gin, tattoo, or bite to eat?
These grand Arcades, each one unique,
are more than merely worth a pique.
They even offer – though mundane
a place to shelter from the rain.
It’s sometimes easy to ignore
the wealth of riches at your door.
If any place of many trades
deserves cascades of accolades,
it’s Cardiff’s great, first-rate arcades!
Until we speak again, thanks Joao, you put beautifully into words one of the many things about Lovin‘ the ‘Diff!
For more information on these fabulous arcades you can visit: thecityofarcades.com
Shipbuilding, whaling, jute, journalism, bridges, creative design, and dolphins… what’s not to like about the fabulous city of Dundee.
Well, the whales bit is a stretch these days! But, according to the informative Verdant Works Museum based in an old jute mill, it’s whale oil that led Dundee to be the centre of the world for the jute industry (until India eventually took over).
At the time, Dundee was known as ‘She Town‘ because the women made up the majority of the paid workforce… poorly paid by men, of course. But apparently, they held their own in Victorian drunkenness and misdemeanour statistics.
Then there is journalism… a tradition commemorated in the central square by – of all characters – DesperateDan & Minnie the Minx…
Most recently, the creative design reinvention has been recognised in the iconic V&A Museum (the first outside of London). An essential element of the building is apparently based on the cliffs of the Scottish coastline…
Then there are those all-important bridges across the River Tay. The sweep of the Tay Railway Bridge has been an emblem of the city back to Victorian times. With the Tay Road Bridge or more recent addition…
Until we speak again, Scotland’s forgotten gem on the east coast has long been on my list. The wait has been well worth it. Even the locals came out to provide a welcome…
City centres invariably have to cater for the masses. If it’s gems you’re looking for, then head to where the discerning people go… the leafy suburbs.
Even though I’ve known it in my head, it’s taken quite some time for me to venture into the quiet Victorian terraced streets of Pontcanna in my home city of Cardiff. Home to at least three of the city’s finest dining establishments.
If it’s useful boxes, you need to be ticking, then ThomasbyTom Simmons will probably fill your page. A restaurant developed by a proud Welshman, tick. Quiet and leafy surroundings, tick.
A menu focused on quality rather than quality (with a tilt towards excellent Welsh produce), tick.
Tasty beeftartar starter with flavoursome bread and olives, tick.
Sumptuous BeefFillet and a delicate LambChop, tick.
A Spanishwine from the Ribera del Duero estates to simply die for, tick.
Finished off with a smooth Penderyn Welsh Whisky, tick.
Until we speak again, don’t tell the masses, but Pontcanna has more than this hiddentreaure to be luring discerning folk into the quiet backstreets.
JUNO's VIEW 