London by Lockdown

English, Social, 1 season, 21 episodes, 7 hours, 10 minutes

London by Lockdown

English, Social, 1 season, 21 episodes, 7 hours, 10 minutes

About

A travel podcast about falling in love with a new city in strange times. (There's so much more to London than the well-trodden paths.)

Leaving London

In this episode, hear about why we left, how we left, our last two London adventures, and the toll London took on Craig’s mental health. If you go to England, you bound to turn mad — Olive Senior ‘I’m quite alright with that’ (Not Quite Right For Us)   My images of London are illusions. My two years in London was a mess from go to whoa. I understand that moving to the UK a month before the outbreak of a global pandemic and the subsequent isolating lockdowns wasn’t in my control, but the fallout from all of that took its toll. Even with London by Lockdown in my corner — which was designed to connect me with the people and places around me — at times I floundered. I started doubting myself, my art, my sense of self. I love living in cities. I was excited to move there, but, as a migrant, I couldn’t get a lock on London. The place is never still. London’s a shyster, never commits to one thing or another, a chameleon wearing a wolf’s skin and dressed in sheep’s clothing. A nervous energy infuses it, always fidgeting, twitching, tapping a finger, jumping between random topics, foot tapping, leg shaking up and down under the table. London sits at the base of a bowl in a sedimentary basin, where over the years all the rivers have been turned into sewers and all the forests cut down. When you’re looking up from the bottom of this hole, it’s hard to see beyond the rim. And yet, those rivers, they haven’t been completely silenced, because parts of London are sinking. Just down from us, walking along Deptford’s streets, near the Thames, the streets inundate and flood with only the lightest of rain. When homes are literally just staying above the water, it’s hard to do more than survive. The difficulty in navigating London (and English culture more broadly) is that there’s a tilt to its familiarity; it was just askew enough to make everything well-known both awkward and confusing without my being able to put my finger on anything specific. Shona and I knew we were moving to live in the belly of the Colonial Beast before we even left Australia, but I didn’t realise how ingrained colonial ways of thinking are and how celebrated colonialism is — without too much self-reflection. That might seem harsh, and I understand that post-Covid London was never going to be like the pre-Covid city, but the official city that elevates only certain artefacts of culture, art, knowledge or history — that city persists through time and thrives on the facade that someone somewhere in London is having a blast, while the rest of us, who are just getting by, are somehow missing out. London’s lie is the opposite of terra nullius: the legal concept used by Colonial powers to steal ‘empty territories’ that were in fact not empty. I was caught in-between cultures and times. London’s illusion is that there’s something more than there is. London took my mental health and spat it out onto the ground where it was left to decompose. If this sounds like I left London hating the place, that’s not true and it wouldn’t be fair to tar all of London with the same brush. My feelings are complicated and my experiences are complex. I don’t hate it, but I don’t love the place either, and, to be honest, I’m not indifferent — there is something about London that sends some people mad, I’m sure of it. Some days I wish we were still there and that I could have made a go of it. Sometimes I check out the socials and when I see photos of the streets I used to call home I yearn to be back there. Then on other days I remember the Covid shitshow or how London made me feel empty and lesser, and I’m so glad I’m on the other

7/7/2022 • 57 minutes, 23 seconds

Bonus Episode: More From the Migration Museum

Hear about Shona’s da’s story; learn about the highland clearances, the 10-pound poms, and how people fashion intimate connections and meaning in countries far from their place of birth; and travel through 400 years of UK Departures and Arrivals. (Two years ago today, the UK locked down.)     Dear Migration Museum, Hope you’re well. Just a note to let you know that I loved volunteering with you and it was really important to me. I know it might sound a little strange, saying that, given I wasn’t there too long, but you’re just such a brilliant place. (I know I don’t have to tell you that.) When I first visited you as a punter, it hadn’t struck me before that I was a migrant. I’d grown up with so much UK media (mostly BBC productions on the ABC), and even now, the UK is presented as ‘the same’ as Australia; that we both understand each other’s cultures perfectly. Again, I don’t have to tell you this, but that’s not true. The difficulty in navigating London is that it’s all so similar, but there’s a tilt that makes everything awkward, more confusing and difficult, and it’s just askew enough to discombobulate me without my being able to put my finger on anything specific. Shona and I both knew going in we were travelling to the belly of the Colonial Beast, but I didn’t realise how ingrained that thinking is; how colonialism is celebrated in so many contexts without any reflection; and how the idea of ‘born-to-rule’ permeates. (But of course, you give us the other perspectives and stories.) When I first approached you about volunteering I was suffering anxiety. I’d never had this before, and was having anxiety attacks — I didn’t know what was going on. I ended up working with a counsellor. Covid in London broke me. At the time the MM was perfect. So open and generous and caring. Could you please let everyone I worked with know I really valued meeting them and enjoyed my time there. One regret is that I didn’t get to be part of the MM for longer and get to know each of you better. Take care and stay safe.   Links London’s Migration Museum, LewishamRachelle RomeoWe Are Lewisham (Borough of Culture, 2022) Music & SFX Opening & Closing Credits by Unregistered Master BuilderSFX and extra music from Epidemic SoundTouching Moments by Ketsa (Free Music Archive) Mental Health Resources How to Access Mental Health Services (NHS site)Mental Health AustraliaOnly Human Radio Show<a href="https://pinkthe

3/24/2022 • 12 minutes, 52 seconds

NOT the British Museum

A fete in a cemetery, a tiny underground mail train, and a museum in a shopping centre. Come and celebrate everything that’s NOT the British Museum. ************************** Nunhead Cemetery Open Day Bug hunts, whittling workshops, crypt tours, a petting zoo, ice cream — a ‘typical’ open day. It’s spring and there’s still a chill to the air, but after months of lockdown we’re enjoying being outside. Before arriving if you’d asked me who’d be at the open day I’d have said three history buffs and a dog — but the place is bustling with hundreds of people: market stalls, a community choir, a ‘murder of goths’ (about 30, I’d say). The cemetery is being re-wilded, and as the forest reclaims the place, the wildlife has returned — mostly birds and squirrels, but on one walk we took here in the depths of the winter lockdown, on an overcast day with snow all around, we saw foxes darting between the gravestones and trees. Today, though, there are too many people for foxes. We finish at a pop-up cafe near the Scottish Martyrs monument, with tea and scones and jam. My nan used to make scones like that. The five Martyrs campaigned for parliamentary reform, and for their troubles were transported to Australia in 1794. Mail Rail (Postal Museum) Tunnels running east–west under London carrying narrow gauge driverless trains and delivering millions of letters a day. What more could you want? Royal Mail began as the personal mail service of one of the English kings. Some time later, if you could afford it, you could send letters where the recipient paid for them on arrival. When the Penny Black stamp was invented, the first adhesive stamp, postage was democratised and became accessible to anyone. By the 1920s millions of letters were being delivered to Londoners every day. The mail rail opened in 1927 to counter London’s congested streets and the ensuing delays. In the 1930s the GPO established a film unit. ‘Night Mail’ is its most famous production (Written by W.H. Auden). On our visit to the Museum we watched the surrealist jaunt ‘Love on the Wing’ (1939) by Norman McLaren. In theory it was an ad for the postal service, but the images plugged straight into my brain and I have no idea what it was about. London’s Migration Museum (MM) Popping into Sainsbury’s to grab some toilet paper? Why not stop at the Migration Museum? It’s Saturday morning and we bus it to Lewisham shopping centre. We sit up front of the top level of the double decker bus (for only two pounds you get a comprehensive view of the city, and every trip is like a mini tour). Founded about 20 years ago, and without a permanent home at the time, the MM was initially a series of collaborative exhibitions and events travelling all over the UK, including London, Oxford, Leicester and Edinburgh. From 2017 to 2019, it was based in Lambeth, then it moved to Lewisham. The bus delivers us to Hight Street’s bustle: market stalls selling fresh fish, fruit and vegetables, clothes, fabrics, and street food from Africa, Asia and the Caribbean. Nearby are Polish and Italian delis, Turkish and South Indian restaurants, and my favourite fish and chip shop in London: ‘Something Fishy’. The décor is straight out of the 1970s, and alongside an array of different fish (and chips) they serve pie and mash, and jellied eel. Before we head into the centre, Lewisham’s hustle calms me, makes me feel at ease with London on those days I feel anxious. It’s a human scale that feels about right; the perfect place for the Migration Museum. <h4

2/20/2022 • 25 minutes, 56 seconds

NQRFU — Travel

The idea of travel brings with it the promise of exotic places filled with interesting people, and images of glittering beaches and crystal clear water, or adventure, relaxation, or even a family holiday. But that’s for those who are able to come and go as they please: one person’s exploration is another’s exploitation. For many, ‘travel’ has been ‘not quite right’ for centuries, bringing conquest and oppression, inequality and ecological disaster, prejudice, and at times walls to keep out ‘the other’. Celebrating ten years of Speaking Volumes, this anthology is a warning shot, an affirmation, an education ... These forty writers — new and established — speak volumes, invoking their experiences of outsiderness and their defiance against it. In forty short stories, poems and essays — by turns wry, gentle, furious, humorous, passionate, analytical and elliptical — these forty writers, new and established, speak volumes, invoking their experiences of outsiderness and their defiance against it. In this episode we’ll hear … ‘i am no less’ by Michelle Cahill; ‘We Wait’ by Rafeef Ziadah; and Prologue from ‘Abolition’ by Gabriel Gbadamosi (voiced by actors Joe Hughes, Danny Nutt, Owen Oakeshott & Rex Obano). Our guide is actor and author Pauline Melville. InformationMusic composed by Dominique Le GendreNarration by Lucy HannahExtra music & SFX by Epidemic SoundAvailable at all good bookshops, or you can order from Flipped Eye PublishingProduced in collaboration with Speaking Volumes.

10/11/2021 • 24 minutes, 12 seconds

NQRFU — Love

Love touches us all at some point — from dependable familial bonds to the warm comfort of childhood pets, from the heady perfume of romance to the cherished appreciation of community, culture, country. The physical and emotional connections transcend barriers, cross generations and borders. And yet, love can sometimes be ‘not quite right’, taking where it should be giving, causing destruction — even as we still love. Celebrating ten years of Speaking Volumes, this anthology is a warning shot, an affirmation, an education ... These forty writers — new and established — speak volumes, invoking their experiences of outsiderness and their defiance against it. In this episode we’ll hear ‘The Pilgrimage’ by Amina Atiq; ’Knot’ by Leonie Ross; and ’The Apocrypha of O’ by Gaele Sobott. Our guide is poet, novelist and musician Dr Anthony Joseph. Available at all good bookshops, or you can order from Flipped Eye Publishing. Speaking Volumes live literature organisation.

6/30/2021 • 21 minutes, 42 seconds

The Scoop

A series of hard-hitting tidbits about London life, including an insight into the cultural icon that is Henry Hoover. ************************** The pandemic isn’t linear or coherent. I started writing an article about my claustrophobic thoughts about an unknown lockdown. A city that once paid no attention is now all ears, in the wake of sirens marking time — as the only time stamp they move through the streets faster than anything else. The sirens cut loud, continue for longer, can be heard from farther away. Consequences: Listening to the wind I dream all sorts. I dream long and strange and weird. We still can’t see the horizon. Confusion; contradictions; dithering. Any article about the pandemic is merely a jumbled mess, because as much as we fumble for stories — my bread and butter and the things we all turn to to make sense of the world — none exist. About this time every day the family next door comes into their backyard into the sun for about 15 minutes. The kids’ shouts are pure joy and happiness. London: Pandemic Epicentre. TouchDown Feb 23, LockDown March 24. The London I stepped into is an episode of ‘Black Mirror’. Let’s hope we get through this in better shape than Charlie Brooker’s protagonists. A friend’s dog that has never barked at planes before, when they were a constant overhead, now barks at each and every isolated and intermittent plane that flies over. In April 2020 I read a piece about goats coming into the Welsh town Llandudno. The author writes: ‘The world’s metropolises ... are now silent save for the strange duet of birdsong and sirens.’ I love that sentence and wish I’d written it. I wish that sentence had never been written. Some birds of prey flush out other birds by mimicking the emergency call of the birds they’re hunting: The hunted birds flee the safety of the tree into the air where the hunter dives in. The sirens of London float above all else; like foreigners from our pasts, swathing through the city. Last month was an eternity. Meme: A woman from the 1950s holding a cell phone. In a speech bubble: ‘It’s Kurt Cobain calling, he says we’re stupid and contagious.’ I imagine the virus is knife-edged and stone-sharpened, smooth and without mitigation. That’s not true. I once conceived the virus as a 1980s boy band version of Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom, but that’s not true either. If, when we get out of this — and I have to believe we’ll get out of this — we find we’re worse off than any one of Charlie Brooker’s protagonists, then we’re in so much trouble. The politicians say, “We’re in this together”, but only when it suits. Anxious: I avoid people, fearful; when all I want to do is smile and chat and make friends. Henry Hoover The Henry Hoover Rap by Zound Asleep ProductionsHappy Alley by Kevin MacLeod (Filmmusic.io Standard License); kevin@incompetech.com Henry I Love You by Mack Whitwood Henry the Hoover by The Horne Section Henry Hoover as a flame thrower Mental Health ResourcesHow to Access Mental Health Services (NHS site)Mental Health Australia <a href=

4/23/2021 • 15 minutes, 55 seconds

Drawing a Better Map

As a community and a nation we can’t know where we are, where we’re going, or where we could be if our map is faulty, incomplete or badly drawn. We also miss out on great stories. In this episode authors Jacqueline Roy, SI Martin and Nicola Williams expertly guide us through Britain’s past and present. So come celebrate the UK’s diverse and brilliant Black British voices with us. ************************** To truly trace the contours of this place, in all its complexity and beauty, we need to build a better map, and to do that we need to hear all voices, stories and experiences — from across the cities and beyond. This cultural journey, an international, inter-generational and centuries-long history of people criss-crossing the Atlantic, has led to the rise of what is now celebrated as Black Britain. The readings and interviews with Jackie, Steve and Nicola give us precious insights into the lives of people from African and Caribbean heritages. As our guides help us explore the preoccupations, voices and stories of this island nation, we learn about the part literature has played in forging that national identity, and how levelling the field in publishing can enrich our understanding of everything from Georgian London to legal thrillers. “Good books withstand the test of time, even if they are of their time.”— Bernardine Evaristo (author of Booker winning novel “Girl, Woman, Other”). Viewed as part of a continuum, this body of work provides a more accurate and detailed account of what it means to be British. From books published in the 1930s, when most of the Caribbean was considered British; to the music of 2-Tone, where black and white musicians blended blue beat and ska from the 1960s with reggae, soul and punk from the 1970s; to the 1990s, when black authors born in the UK were being published. National identity is constructed as much through the past as it is by the present. “Black Britain: Writing Back” is a new series curated by Bernardine Evaristo with her publisher, Hamish Hamilton, at Penguin Random House. Their ambition is to correct historic bias in British publishing and bring a wealth of lost writing back into circulation. This project looks back to the past in order to resurrect texts that will help reconfigure black British literary history. Featured "Black Britain: Writing Back" authors The Fat Lady Sings Incomparable WorldWithout PrejudiceMinty AlleyBernard and the Cloth MonkeyThe Dancing Face If Lockdown is Getting You Down How to Access Mental Health Services (NHS site) Mental Health AustraliaOnly Human Radio ShowPink Therapy Thanks Speaking VolumesLucy HannahBocas Lit Fest Websi

3/7/2021 • 34 minutes, 25 seconds

The Day Our Lives Changed Forever

This episode looks at Aboriginal resistance and activism in London and England — as told by First Nations people. As non-Indigenous people born on the Australian continent, Craig acknowledges he was born on Ngunnawal Country, and Shona acknowledges she was born on the land of the Kulin Nation. ************************** Every January Australia finds itself running headlong down a steep hill towards the 26th. We’re in shorts and a t-shirt, and like all kids, the scrapes and scratches on our arms and legs map our summer adventures: fishing, swimming, biking, climbing, skateboarding, bushwalking, surfing, camping. BBQs and dive bombs, mozzies and cicadas, sunscreen and ‘six and out’. Part way down the hill, about the 10th, when the annual ‘lamb ad’ hits our TVs, our legs begin to speed up of their own accord. Soon after, our head wobbles. We’re unsteady. By the 20th we’re careening, our arms and legs flail, and we can’t stop. Teetering, we trip over our own feet and we face plant the dirt, landing in a heap on January 26. Reflecting on its antiquated and jingoistic origins, Australia Day’s nervous posturing diminishes us all — not least because it’s a form of rigid militarised nationalism (that includes Anzac Day) politicised by prime ministers Bob Hawke and Paul Keating; ramped up by John Howard; and continued by the rest. No national day can represent everyone, because nations aren’t static. Personally, ‘national days’ shouldn’t exist, but since they’re A Thing, Australia needs modern symbols that embrace its ever-changing history — from invasion, occupation, colonialism and war, to multiculturalism, migration, treaty and sovereignty (and beyond). A Black GST could do it. Constituted at ‘Camp Sovereignty’ (Kings Domain, Melbourne, 2006) during Commonwealth Games (‘StolenWealth Games’) protests, the Black GST draws on centuries of resistance. Only by resolving the legal issues of Genocide, Sovereignty and Treaty can the holistic wellbeing of Indigenous peoples be secured. Only after Genocide is stopped, Sovereignty recognised and Treaties made, can Indigenous and non-Indigenous people come together and put Australia’s ‘unfinished business’ to bed. A Day of Mourning would acknowledge the misery imposed on First Nations peoples by the white invaders. Sovereignty Day would recognise that all Aboriginal nations are sovereign and united in the ongoing fight for their rights. Invasion Day would mark the date of British occupation, the start of the frontier wars, and the resistance that continues today. Survival Day would celebrate that First Nations peoples and cultures have survived despite colonisation. Until Australia acknowledges all of these truths, we’re nowhere. Featured Grandmothers Against Removals Go Fund Me page Rodney’s Twitter: @rodkelly77 Soul-ja SistasLara’s You Tube page Caramel Latte“Fernando’s Ghost” documentaryThe Lone Protestor (book) by Fiona PaisleyBurnum Burnum Declaration (doc)You can find that beautiful song on the Sovereign Union page Check out <a

1/24/2021 • 44 minutes, 17 seconds

Bonus Episode: Xmas In Merimbula

It’s almost the end of 2020. As a special gift for getting through a hard year, in this bonus episode we share one of our all time favourite pieces of radio, and a holiday classic: ‘Xmas in Merimbula’ by Kayla (then aged 8). ************************** Some 30 years ago, aged 17, I first heard The Pogues’ ‘Fairytale of New York’ and fell in love with the city, the band and the song — and all the complexities and contradictions within. Unlike so many other Xmas songs, there’s nothing sentimental here: “It was Christmas eve, babe; in the drunk tank. An old man said to me, ‘Won’t see another one’. And then he sang a song: ‘The Rare Old Mountain Dew’. I turned my face away and dreamed about you.” It’s not a song of solace, but a cautionary tale. There but for the grace… As the years have passed, ‘Fairytale…’ has migrated in from the margins. Nowadays it’s played in supermarkets, and since 2005 it returns annually to the top 20 charts — MacColl’s beautiful voice (she grew up in Croydon, South London, not far from here) perfectly counters McGowan’s character’s dirty murky syntax. And when listeners turn from McGowan’s scowl to MacColl’s songfulness for comfort, they fall victim to a beautifully rendered ambush: “They’ve got cars big as bars, they’ve got rivers of gold, but the wind goes right through you it’s no place for the old.” Who are these people? I get preoccupied with a song’s words. In retrospect, I always have. I listen to songs as a writer, zeroing in on utterances, while Shona draws meaning from the music, listening as a musician. She plays guitar, ukulele, piano, and sings. I get tangled in a song’s prose, piecing together characters’ inner lives until they forge a path beyond the song, until I don’t know who any of us will be when we reach the other side. For me, music serves as punctuation. I don’t really care about Xmas itself, but I’ll take any excuse to see friends and family Listening to ‘Fairytale…’ is my only Xmas ritual, one I’ve not missed in three decades, so taking those five minutes out will be the only usual thing about this year. A small piece of normal in the dumpster fire of 2020. Being so far from home and with so few options to return, it’s the video calls and photos bringing us ‘everyday’ updates that keeps us going. I began the year locked down in bushfires and ended up locked down in a plague. We hope you and your family can in some small way salvage a little cheer from 2020. Information about non-Xmas festivals during this timeAll Saints Day (1 Nov)Diwali (mid-Oct—mid-Nov)Hanukkah (late-Nov—early-Jan)World AIDS Day (1 Dec)International Day of Disabled Persons (3 Dec)Bodhi Day (8 Dec) — BuddhistDay of EnlightenmentHuman Rights Day (10 Dec) Kwanzaa (26 Dec–1 Jan): Facebook @KwanzaanetworkukŌmisoka (31 Dec) — traditional Japanese celebrationSoyal (21 Dec) – ceremony of the Zuni & Hopi peoplesPancha Ganapati (21–25 Dec) — Hindu festival honoring Ganesha Hogmanay (31 Dec) — Scottish New Year’s Eve.Tu BiShvat

12/24/2020 • 14 minutes, 39 seconds

Poly Styrene: (in)disposable punk

When a 1979 BBC documentary titled "Who is Poly Styrene?" introduces us to the punk singer’s work, we become utterly fascinated. With help from Poly’s daughter Celeste Bell, musician Rhoda Dakar and archival audio from Poly herself, this episode explores why her work looks, feels and sounds so relevant today. I know your antiseptic, your deodorant smells nice I’d like to get to know you, you’re deep frozen like the ice He’s a germ free adolescent, cleanliness is her obsession Cleans her teeth ten times a day Scrub away, scrub away, scrub away the S.R. Way — X-Ray Spex “Germ Free Adolescents”, 1978 Marianne Elliott, better known as Poly Styrene, formed the punk band X-Ray Spex as a twenty-year-old in 1977. (Polystyrene is an inexpensive, clear, hard and brittle synthetic aromatic hydrocarbon polymer that can be solid or foamed.) With songs like “Germ-Free Adolescents”, “Plastic Bag” and “Oh Bondage, Up Yours!” the music of X-Ray Spex brings together the many worlds of Marianne Elliott and Poly Styrene: the woman and the artist; the mother and the daughter; the punk and the hippie — all united by a willingness to laugh at and expose the limitations of the throwaway culture of the time (and of today). Arena’s gritty 1979 documentary flies to us straight out of the past, clear as day and with prophetic lucidity. Directed by Ted Clisby, it is gritty (there’s no better description), but it’s also personal and warm, with its aesthetic beautifully anchored in a storytelling past that also endures. Just like Poly Styrene’s lyrics, and precisely because it is a type of storytelling we don’t use so much anymore, the documentary and the music are out of time, and somewhat comfortingly both feel fresh, even if the sound and the colours are a bit muted after the passing of forty years and the digital changes to design and recording in that time. As an exhibit of deliberate and ‘slow storytelling’, this documentary is a rare portrait of a strong and loud woman singing her way through a world, an industry and an era dominated by white men. Poly Styrene’s images, lyrics, art, clothes and music reflect as much on life during the synthetic Seventies as they do on the post-pandemic world ahead. Hear and read more of my work at http://www.craiggarrett.online/ ThanksOpening & Closing Credits Unregistered Master BuilderCeleste BellRhoda Dakar (Pork Pie and Mash Up) If Lockdown is Getting You DownHow to Access Mental Health Services (NHS site)Mental Health AustraliaOnly Human Radio ShowPink Therapy Websites & ArticlesX-Ray SpexStand up and SpitDecolonise FestThe London Sound SurveyCities and Memory Global SoundDiwali Your Local Arena Partners & CollaboratorsManchester Literature FestivalIlkley Literature FestivalGeorge Padmore Institute<a

11/23/2020 • 25 minutes, 42 seconds

What About Work?

In this episode we talk about what it's like to be in work, to be out of work, and what it’s like looking for work in a pandemic. ************************** I’m a workaholic. In 2015 I forgot how to swallow. Every time I ate, it felt like a bit of food lodged in my throat. It was intermittent at first; then it would happen a couple if times during a meal; then it was every time I swallowed, and no matter how much water I drank or how many times I cleared my throat, it felt like the food would get stuck. It didn’t matter how much I chewed, either. It felt like everything was squeezing shut. I started cooking soft foods, taking tiny mouthfuls, chewing a lot, and drinking water to push it down. I was scared I’d never eat properly again. At the time I was working at the University of Queensland, and had three freelance gigs. I was also writing a grief memoir (about my mother’s death from cancer in 2013) for a Masterclass Program. I was working (paid & unpaid) seven days. I knew this was unsustainable, but I’d juggled creative and paid work before. And Shona and I devised an exit plan, and so many other writers and artists do this. But the words I was putting down in my memoir were heavy. (I didn’t know how heavy.) I was diagnosed with a hole in my heart and hypertension. In the middle of all this, two people I knew passed away, four days apart. I remember the inflection in ------’s voice on the phone when she told me ------- was gone. We’d been housemates for some years. Now, that’s a lifetime ago. Surrounded by death, we flew to Melbourne to say goodbye. The sadness and hurt triggered grief, anxiety and guilt about mum. Back at home I continued working myself into the ground. It hit me a couple of months later, on a trip to Canberra for the Masterclass. When I ate I thought I was choking. I didn’t know what was happening, so I flew home early. I was exhausted. I didn’t eat solid food for weeks. I lost 10kg. My short-term memory dissolved, I couldn’t sleep, my digestion stalled, I was edgy, I thought I was going to die from cancer. I took leave from work, and only just finished my freelance gigs. As for the memoir, I submitted the 10,000 words, but I shouldn’t have. At times I’d finish a paragraph and just start sobbing. To get through, I went to counselling. To stay healthy I run 40km a week. To stay sane I work Monday–Friday, 9-5. Sometimes food feels like it’s not going down properly, but I’m usually tired or stressed. My memory came back, my sleep is ok, but I have to be careful with what I eat. And of course, in lockdown, there’s the temptation to work more and the guilt of not working, so I really have to stick to my 9-5 regime. ThanksOpening & Closing Credits by Unregistered Master Builder Background music, ‘Touching Moments’ by Ketsa (Free Music Archive) Background music, Markus J Buehler Viral Counterpoint of the Coronavirus Spike Protein (2019-nCoV)BBC SFX ArchiveJustin Mullins SFXLondon Soundsurvey (sound & audio maps)Carolyn Pelling for her brilliant poem Mental Health ResourcesHow to Access Mental Health Services (NHS site)M

11/10/2020 • 18 minutes, 22 seconds

Bonus Episode: Canberra By Covid

What’s it like to be twelve and in lockdown In this short bonus episode our niece Kayla has recorded her reflections on the ways Covid-19 has impacted on her and her friends. ************************** We love everything about our nieces and nephew: their creativity, their questions, the songs they sing, the art they make... Every time we video call Tom and Sadie, Tom needs proof that if it’s day there, then it’s night here, and visa versa. Sadie has impeccable comedic timing for someone so young (she really does). And Kayla, who’s almost a teenager, loves, among other things, reading, writing and drawing. The artwork for this episode is hers. She’s a winter baby, and I met her a few hours after she was born — wrapped in a blanket and beanie. It’s hard to reconcile today’s independent 12-year-old with the tiny human who could hardly open her eyes back in 2008. I was on my way to live in Timor-Leste with Shona (she’d already left Australia to take up her new job) and didn’t know when I’d be back, so it was important to be there for those first hours, days and weeks of Kayla’s life. I’m not sure if humans do the same thing as some birds, but there’s an imprinting thing that happens where the babies imprint on a ‘suitable moving stimulus’ (ideally a parent bird). On the off chance humans do that as well, I wanted to be there. So, whether she likes it or not, Kayla’s stuck with me. Tom’s a runner and a climber, and Sadie’s into anything and everything her older brother is — she does not like to be left out, and fair call, too. The youngest is always pushing to be included. In saying that, they look after each other. We miss them all. Even in Australia, where we lived, Meanjin (Brisbane), is a long way from Tom and Sadie in Naarm (Melbourne), and from Kayla in Canberra, so we don’t always see them as much as we’d like. Being so far from home at the moment with so few options to return in the near future, it’s the video calls and photos bringing us regular updates on loose teeth, artworks, science experiments, cricket, ‘Bluey’, skiing, books, cubby houses, backgammon, trampoline-ing, lego, grazed knees, star wars, afl, and butterfly wings that keeps us going. ThanksOpening & Closing Credits by Unregistered Master Builder Background music, ‘Touching Moments’ by Ketsa (Free Music Archive) Background music, Markus J Buehler Viral Counterpoint of the Coronavirus Spike Protein (2019-nCoV) If Lockdown’s Getting You DownHow to Access Mental Health Services (NHS site)Mental Health AustraliaOnly Human Radio ShowPink Therapy ContactFacebook: @CraigsAudioWorks  Twitter & Instagram: @LDNbylockdown Available linktr.ee/LondonbyLockdown

9/21/2020 • 4 minutes, 4 seconds

Lost Rivers and Hidden Stories

This episode uncovers lost rivers, a smelly ogre and a magical reawakening. ************************** Once upon a time there was a river... I love rivers. The Birrarung (Yarra) in Naarm (Melbourne); the Murrumbidgee skirting Canberra; how the Maiwar (Brisbane River) psychologically and spiritually dominates the city of Meanjin (Brisbane) like no other river I’ve encountered; the powerful convergence of the Derbarl Yerrigan (Swan) and Djarlgarra (Canning) rivers in Mooro, Goomap (Perth); the contradiction that is the Thames (I’ve still not spent any time with it); and the lost River Peck, a tributary that gives its name to Peckham, a neighbourhood to the south west of Telegraph Hill (which sits at the northern tip of what was once the Great North Wood). Once upon a time there was a river... The story of Australia, the driest inhabited continent, begins and ends with water. The original colony site, Kudgee (Botany Bay), didn’t have fresh water, so another site “with a run of water through a very thick wood” was found at Warrane (Sydney Cove). This was the “Tank Stream” (named after tanks cut into the sides of the bedrock to capture and store water). As the colony’s main water source, it was so fouled by the colonsiers that they soon had to cart water in from a nearby wetland. When that ran dry, they ventured further west on the promise of a “Rio Grande” or “Mississippi”, and on the back of the myth of an illusive inland sea (a tale for another time). Today the Tank Stream is lost under the streets of Cadi, Djubuguli (Sydney). I heard this growing up, but didn’t know England had a rap sheet as long as your leg. After ruining London’s streams, brooks and creeks they travelled to the other side of the globe only to repeat their mistakes. Once upon a time there was a river... The River Peck is mostly underground now; one of dozens of tributaries whose waters were redirected into the shit-carrying sewers. Here and there, though, before it hits the pipes, The Peck pops up to remind us: the brook in Peckham/Rye Common; a shallow depression running alongside East Dulwich Road; a bubbling spring in a basement, which is then pumped back into the river system; or a stream through the cellar of a pub. Where Shona grew up on the outskirts of Naarm the local oval was originally a small overflow wetland for Brushy Creek, before the creek was diverted and sent underground. Now it runs under the oval, which explains why the grass remains lush, even in the heat of summer, and why, on any given evening, birds flock there to feed. Once upon a time there was a river... Our rivers are never completely lost. Music & SFXOpening & Closing Credits by Unregistered Master BuilderBackground music, ‘Touching Moments’ by Ketsa (Free Music Archive)Background music, Markus J Buehler Viral Counterpoint of the Coronavirus Spike Protein (2019-nCoV)BBC SFX Archive If Lockdown’s Getting You DownHow to Access Mental Health Services (NHS site)Mental Health AustraliaOnly Human Radio ShowPink Therapy Websites & ArticlesLondon’s Lost Rivers by Paul TallingLondon is a Fo

8/28/2020 • 18 minutes, 29 seconds

Lockdown to Lockdown

From my home to yours. In this episode author, travel podcaster and poet Maame Blue drops by to chat about London, Naarm (Melbourne), travel and... oh yeah, her debut novel "Bad Love" (Jacaranda Books). "I’m not a romantic. I don’t know how to tell those kinds of stories, the ones filled with magic and laughter and a purple hue. Romance has never connected with me in that way. But love — hard, bad, rough love — well, I could speak on that all day." — Maame Blue "Bad Love", 2020 From the start, nothing about Maame Blue’s first novel "Bad Love" is what it seems. Even Dapo Adeola’s cover design hints at an underlying chaos that’s at odds with the cover’s gentle beauty. "Bad Love" is a detailed search for belonging; a love letter to a London that’s far from perfect; and an exploration of faded and unconscious decisions, half-thoughts and shard-words — all those things never said. It follows Ekuah, a young Ghanian-Londoner in her 20s as she navigates and dissects all of love’s permutations: hard, bad, rough, straight, queer — and everything in between. Lyrical where it needs to be, playful when it wants to be, and truth telling when it has to be, "Bad Love" is a complete rendering. I found myself fretting, cheering, and caring about every character: Dee and Jay, Ekuah’s loves; Amelia, Vio; Ekuah’s parents. There is heartbreak here, it’s not all hugs and puppies, but the power of this novel comes from Maame’s agile writing consistently defying expectation. So the power isn’t immediately obvious. Drawn from personal notes on relationships, experienced and observed, Maame’s quality as a storyteller lies in her caring and tender descriptions of every aspect of so-called everyday life. There’s something extraordinary in all our everydays, isn’t there? In this way "Bad Love" is not about, as the potentially misleading title suggests, a particular type of Love, a specific Relationship, or even one explicit incident of "Bad Love" — as I said at the start, nothing about the novel is what it seems. Without giving away any spoilers, "Bad Love" is a celebration of all the constituent talus and scree (both the good and the bad) that make up love; and it’s about how love’s riffles and glides (again, both good and bad) make their way inside us over the years, and, if we’re open to it, teach us how to love deeply. Information & ContactsMaame BlueJacaranda BooksHeadscarves and Carry-OnsDapo Adeola (illustrator & designer) Jacaranda Books August 3 Instagram Live Event: #twentyin2020 ThanksOpening & Closing Credits by Unregistered Master Builder Background music, ‘Touching Moments’ by Ketsa (Free Music Archive) Background music, Markus J Buehler Viral Counterpoint of the Coronavirus Spike Protein (2019-nCoV) If Lockdown is Getting You DownHow to Access Mental Health Services (NHS site)Mental Health AustraliaOnly Human Radio ShowPink Therapy <stro

7/31/2020 • 32 minutes, 44 seconds

It's My Birthday

How much Iso birthday fun can two people have? ************************** I arrived four weeks early: induced, tiny, underfed. My ‘origin story’, according to my parents: when the doctors heard my heartbeat weakening, they induced; once born, they used tissue-sized nappies. Details are thin on the ground, but I’m the eldest, so I imagine my parents were really stressed and probably didn’t have all the information themselves. From what I can gather, the placenta wasn’t working so well (when this happens growth slows to maintain essential organs: brain, heart, kidneys). The placenta transfers nutrients and oxygen from mum to bub. Our friend Sally, a midwife, explained it to me this way: ‘Placenta is like an oxygen tank, and if it stops working it’s very hard to survive.’ If doctors see a placenta malfunctioning it’s often better to deal with the challenges of prematurity (immature organs that might not work perfectly) than a fully defective placenta. Sally again: ‘You’d rather be in a leaky boat than underwater with a faulty tank’. Having said that, being premature, even today, holds risks, but here I am 47 years on. And since I’ve been old enough to wag school I’ve taken my birthday off. I try to enjoy exactly where I am, but that’s not always easy. We lost mum the year I turned 40. My family crammed into a hospital room with crappy blue curtains and catchpenny furniture, and sat around my tiny disappearing mum. What I remember, though, is when she ate half a piece of my birthday cake, the only solid food she’d eaten in weeks, and smiled. She did that for us. I found it difficult to find light in my birthday afterwards, although recently Shona and I created a tradition of going to Minjerribah (Stradbroke Island) each year. So maybe losing and then finding that light on that beautiful island helped us to reconfigure 2020’s birthday — not that any of us have a choice. It wasn’t without its problems, but we had a good day. We all know the pandemic sucks, and I’m sure you have similar touch-and-go birth stories, but if you add up our childhood accidents, the stupid chances we take in our teens and 20s, and the random-ness that can strike any time, stopping one day a year to look about, even now — maybe especially now — feels right.   ThanksOpening & Closing Credits by Unregistered Master Builder Background music, ‘Touching Moments’ by Ketsa (Free Music Archive) Background music, Markus J Buehler Viral Counterpoint of the Coronavirus Spike Protein (2019-nCoV) InformationThe History of Mary PrinceThe Interesting Life of Olaudah Equiano and Olaudah EquianoNarrative of the Enslavement of Ottobah Cugoano If Lockdown is Getting You DownHow to Access Mental Health Services (NHS site)Mental Health AustraliaPink TherapyOnly Human Radio Show Websites & ArticlesResurrection Myths by Marcus Westbury<a href

7/15/2020 • 11 minutes, 47 seconds

How to Make a Friend in Lockdown

In this episode we see if Craig can make a new friend during lockdown. ************************** Between mid 1990 and early 1991 I had a recurring dream (Grades 11 & 12 at Lake Ginninderra College). I’m sitting in the shallows of a lake... I’m unnerved because a near drowning a few years earlier means I don’t swim. Thunder, lighting and wind convulse the water into a wave that propels me from the land. I’m lucid, but can’t control the dream. In a second, day is now night, I’m at the opposite shore at a bonfire party of friends (current, future, past, lost). I’m greeted heartily as I make my way to warm near the fire. I know them all, but recognise none. A friend hands me a glass. I scan the crowd over his shoulder. ‘We lost her at the beginning.’ ‘Where have you all come from?’ I ask, but wake before he answers. In the first month of 1991 a friend tragically drowns while swimming in Lake Ginninderra. I’ve not dreamt that dream since. My 2020 dream occurs the week I’m flying to London, and is set at Lake Ginninderra College. I’m speaking to a friend, known but unrecognised, when one of his mates steals my wallet. Despite knowing the culprit, I pretend to canvass the whole school. My friend’s in a gang, so when I get to their hangout, everyone, except my friend, crowds me until I leave. I repeat the process — dreams within dreams? — until, in time, I find my friend alone. We search the place and discover every artefact that’s ever been stolen at the school, collated and stored. I wake before I find my wallet. Within a month of arriving in London the world is locked down. I’ve not had any ‘covid dreams’ since. These two premonitory dreams — thirty years apart — are indelible. I have counter-intuitive relief. Sure we have no idea about the virus’ long-term implications, health or otherwise, but the world’s frame has never really made sense to me, so now that the system’s fragilities are so obviously laid bare, we see what we’re up against, and we know how to win: radical empathy, compassion, connection and friendship. ThanksOpening & Closing Credits by Unregistered Master Builder Background music, ‘Touching Moments’ by Ketsa (Free Music Archive) Background music, Markus J Buehler Viral Counterpoint of the Coronavirus Spike Protein (2019-nCoV)BBC SFX ArchiveJustin Mullins Information & contacts for the people and organisations featured in this episodeSpeaking VolumesJay BernardLondon Renters UnionMutual Aid LondonRadical Empathy PodcastHill Talk Facebook: @hilltalkshowWaltham StoriesMaame Blue Writes and Headscaves and Carry-ons available on Spotify Websites & ArticlesI Dream of CovidWired

6/15/2020 • 12 minutes, 6 seconds

Covid Dreams

In this episode we turn our attention to those everyday sounds we often overlook: the creaks, the squeaks, the buzzes and the pops that we build our daily soundtracks around without necessarily noticing. ************************** Whenever travelling in a new place it’s easy for our attention to be hijacked by the grandiose: the British Museum, Tower of London, Big Ben, Buckingham Palace, Tower Bridge. End to end, our flat is a modest 32 footsteps. At first, when we paused to listen closer, all we heard were random, almost opaque, individual noises, but as we refocussed our attention — maybe as we plodded into lockdown, maybe as we fell into restlessness and insomnia, maybe as the world we knew ground to a stop — patterns of composition, harmony and story took shape. And it was the familiarity of these stories that comforted me, despite having never listened to them before. I found a grounded counterpoint in an emerging world that isn’t mine (or yours, for that matter — it is too much to say here it’s now the virus’s). For me, lockdown is like sleepwalking though a restless Dream-Wake hybrid world punctuated by fatigue, insomnia and curious dreams that, dull at their edges and obtuse and fractured, create No Time. And I’m not alone, lockdown has spawned a world-wide epidemic of weird, mysterious and self-contradictory dreams. In this soundscape, we explore, and in part decipher, the mental and physical landscapes of London during lockdown. Through the intricacies and half-spaces of a recurring dream about leaving a house — any house, my house, your house — we attempt to uncover the overlooked stories of our homes. Thanks Opening & Closing Credits by Unregistered Master Builder Background music, Markus J Buehler Viral Counterpoint of the Coronavirus Spike Protein (2019-nCoV)Justin Mullins for SFXBBC SFX ArchivesLondon Improvisers Orchestra (LIO Bandcamp page) Facebook:@londonimprovisersorchestraSound Design at Greenwich blog Facebook:@SoundGreenwich ArticlesCoronavirus has created an epidemic of weird dreamsWhy is Ryanair taking to the skies when there’s nowhere to fly?Transition Events (excerpt from my novel set in a hybrid Sleep–Wake world where nothing is as it seems) Contact Facebook: @CraigsAudioWorks  Twitter & Instagram: @LDNbylockdownAvailable linktr.ee/LondonbyLockdown

5/27/2020 • 11 minutes, 39 seconds

Exploring New Cross (+ bonus song)

In this episode we learn about the place we now call home. “In the beginning there was a river. The river became a road and the road branched out to the whole world. And because the road was once a river it was always hungry.” So eloquent is the opening to Ben Okri’s The Famished Road (one of my all-time favourite novels), that those three sentences, drifting as they do between histories and worlds, truths and fictions, contain all the confusion, lyricism and complexity of a full-blown biblia sacra. The simple enormity of it: how one thing is in fact many. My sister gave me a copy for my 21st and it’s travelled with me across the globe, a beautiful old dog-eared and fox-blotched thing. In it Okri asks whose stories should we believe: those told by people with self-proclaimed authority, or those we tell each other? Our local histories birth and sustain our homes, the places we live: material, self evident and layered; our daily battles prove we’re not as fragile as maybe we imagine — despite logical misgivings and insecurities about the world outside; and our shared stories branch out to the whole world, continuing further than one individual, beyond each of us, not limited to one time or place. Join us as we walk the streets of our Borough, learning about its fearless history (the ‘Battle of Lewisham’, the tragic New Cross Road Fire and how the New Cross Library was saved) and discover the day-to-day actions of the people keeping us safe, connected and sane during lockdown (mutual aid groups, Telegraph Hill Radio, the Doorstep Disco). We acknowledge everyone who keeps the stories of SE14 alive. Thanks to Jay, Vedina & Unregistered Master Builder for letting us use their audio Jay Bernard: www.jaybernard.co.uk Jay’s work can also be found at Speaking Volumes. Vedina Rose: www.vedinarosemusic.com Opening & Closing Credits by Unregistered Master Builder Background music, ‘Touching Moments’ by Ketsa (Free Music Archive) Background music, Markus J Buehler Viral Counterpoint of the Coronavirus Spike Protein (2019-nCoV) Not in the mood for anything too heavy? Here are some cool London links we’ve come across Bookcase Credibility: Twitter @BCredibility and Instagram #bookcaseTelegraph Hill Radio (enjoy the ‘doorstep disco’)Waltham Stories PodcastBlack History MonthLondon Community Video ArchiveGreat women you should know about  Contact Facebook: @CraigsAudioWorks  Twitter & Instagram: @LDNbylockdownAvailable linktr.ee/LondonbyLockdown

5/15/2020 • 17 minutes, 32 seconds

Food Glorious Food

In this episode your intrepid lockdown travellers tackle the big food questions. ************************** What are Romanesco broccoli and celeriac and what do you do with them? What’s the great “jollof rice controversy”? How hot is too hot for a vindaloo? Shouldn’t we all eat cheese scones every day? Are vegetarian Scotch eggs worth it? ThanksOpening & Closing Credits by Unregistered Master Builder Touching Moments by Ketsa (Free Music Archive) Markus J Buehler Viral Counterpoint of the Coronavirus Spike Protein (2019-nCoV)BBC SFX Archive Information & WebsitesUK Landworkers Alliance. For the ‘World Famous London by Lockdown Cook Off’ RecipesVegetarian VindalooCheese Scones Jollof Rice (it’s so good we included two links): here and hereVegetarian Scotch Eggs ContactFacebook: @CraigsAudioWorks  Twitter & Instagram: @LDNbylockdown Available linktr.ee/LondonbyLockdown

5/8/2020 • 10 minutes

House Hunting in a Pandemic

In this episode we reflect on a confusing couple of weeks and try to make sense of events that almost don't make any sense at all. ************************** During February and March we were house hunting. My memories of those confused weeks are thin — I’d just arrived from the other side of the world, and as much as I search for a linear and coherent story, none exists. I remember having to shake off claustrophobic thoughts before going into potential homes for house interviews; the intricate combinations of smell and light and sound; and the time before physical distancing. Our precautions came with caveats and weight: we didn’t shake hands, we used hand sanitiser, we Zoomed if we could. I flinched at every cough. As potential housemates, we discussed move-in dates, rent and bills, all without hashing out what ‘our house’ might look like if we, strangers, were plunged into indefinite 24/7 lockdown, except that’s one thing we needed to discuss. We all spoke as if coronavirus was happening to characters in other people’s dreams. But Shona and I had a hard move-out date, the lockdown’s bottlenecks had created myriad uncertainties, and the weeks were slipping away, so we increased our budget; began looking further afield, despite loving Leytonstone; and, somewhat reluctantly, decided no housemates. We also sent a ‘hail Mary’ email to Shona’s colleagues (when all bets are off …). A friend of a friend had a flat in south London. Four days later, moving day, March 24, Day 1 of lockdown: the removalists arrived three hours late, then we took an uneasy Tube trip across town to a part of London we’d never visited, holding an unsigned contract with landlords we’d never met, to move into a flat we’d never seen. Thanks Opening & Closing Credits by Unregistered Master Builder Touching Moments by Ketsa (Free Music Archive) Markus J Buehler Viral Counterpoint of the Coronavirus Spike Protein (2019-nCoV) If Lockdown is Getting You Down How to Access Mental Health Services (NHS site) Mental Health AustraliaOnly Human Radio ShowPink Therapy ContactFacebook: @CraigsAudioWorks  Twitter & Instagram: @LDNbylockdown Available linktr.ee/LondonbyLockdown

5/1/2020 • 9 minutes, 30 seconds

Welcome to Lockdown

In this series we discover what it takes to fall in love with a new city during a pandemic. ************************** When London shut down on March 24, 2020, I’d been here four weeks and my partner Shona, eight months. Our staggered arrivals were so she could take a job with a global human rights organisation and I could finish my work back in Australia. I arrived with a few contacts, a resume and a visa, so when London shut down my job prospects fell off a cliff. (Shona’s still working.) In 2008 I also swapped a stable job for the unknown, when we relocated to Timor-Leste so Shona could work with a local human rights organisation. Our three years there showed us what a post-Coronavirus London may look like: overwhelmed medical system; sporadically empty shelves; and the existential threat of illness (dengue, chikungunya, malaria, tuberculosis, hepatitis — not to mention unnamed ‘bugs’ that inflict combinations of diarrhoea, fever, nausea, vomiting, headache and fatigue). Fever was optional, but diarrhoea was a given. In the first week of shutdown we filled water bottles; re-stocked our first aid kit; bought dry goods that didn’t need refrigeration; and re-organised our fresh food options (the UK’s food systems are acutely fragile — see Episode 3). We also moved house — see Episode 2. We’re thankful we’re together (had my visa taken another week, we’d be on opposite sides of the world right now). ‘London by Lockdown…’ is about falling in love with a new city in strange times, remaining curious and open, enjoying everyday discoveries and making it work. Thanks Opening & Closing Credits by Unregistered Master Builder Touching Moments by Ketsa (Free Music Archive) Markus J Buehler Viral Counterpoint of the Coronavirus Spike Protein (2019-nCoV) If Lockdown is Getting You Down How to Access Mental Health Services (NHS site) Mental Health AustraliaOnly Human Radio ShowPink Therapy ContactFacebook: @CraigsAudioWorks  Twitter & Instagram: @LDNbylockdown Available linktr.ee/LondonbyLockdown

3/24/2020 • 7 minutes, 11 seconds