Something For The Weekend

my milkshake brings all the boys to the yard...

... so does my ice-cream and funny cow print hat. Last year's Ben and Jerry's Sundae festival was fabulous - the sun was shining, the sky was blue and the nineteen little pots of FREE ice-cream bloated my belly like a big balloon, aaaaah BLISS. Alabama 3 and The Thrills played their way through some top summer tunes as friends and lovers lazed in the green green grass of Clapham Common. All was well in London.

And it's happening again!!Sunday 30th of July sees the second Ben and Jerry's festival come to town and the tickets are going like hotcakes. THEY'RE ONLY A FIVER EACH!! Snap em up here, but beware, the site is really slow and if you've got a hangover like me, the red will do your head in. Urrrrgh.

Roll on summer, wooo hoooo!!

how to avoid indecent exposure...

No sooner has Mother Nature tipped the temperature above 20 than London men are tearing off their clothing and strolling topless through the parks with gay abandon, failing to realise that they’re only on holiday in their heads.  Removing your shirt doesn’t automatically mean you’re transported to a beach setting, and no, it’s not ok. Yes, other people do mind. It’s people like this who make us want to go away, when actually, London can be pretty cool when the sun’s out.  If it’s escapism you need, don’t rush to the airport. There’s plenty of stuff here to take you away from the pot-bellied business-men bearing all, and plenty to give you a good day tripping in and not far out of your own city.

If it’s action you’re after then it’s common knowledge that theme parks are where it’s at over the summer months. Chessington World of Adventures started life as a children’s zoo, but now the rides are wilder than any animals they could have imported, although the cute and furries are still there.  Kids will love the brand new walk-through squirrel monkey enclosure and getting up close to Kumba and Kaja, the gentle gorillas.   Fresh for 2006 is Bubbleworks – a new foam-injected indoor water ride which covers you in… well, bubbles, and for the adrenaline junkies, don’t miss Dragon’s Fury and the Vampire coasters.  Totally fang-tastic.

Men bearing flesh factor = 3/10 (beware of loose monkeys with shirt button fetishes. They could whip ‘em off in a second)
Chessington World of Adventures tickets - £12 (up to £14 off)

If you think you’re not the pant-wetting kind when it comes to rollercoasters, perhaps you haven’t heard about Stealth, the new addition to Thorpe Park’s rollercoaster collection and currently the tallest and fastest in Europe. Wheeee!  0 to 80mph in just 2.3 seconds?  Even Pete Docherty would have trouble competing on the roundabouts of East London. For the still-dry-of-trouser amongst you, head for Colussus next and experience not one, but ten loop the loops before taking it easy on the swing. Kind of. Rush is the daddy of all swings, so actually, it’s best to keep away if you’re afraid of heights. With plenty for the kids and just a short train ride out of London, Thorpe Park is an essential summer escape.

Men bearing flesh factor = 4/10 (you never know whose clothes will abandon them after an extra fast ride)
Thorpe Park tickets - May Madness - up to £10.50 off

You don’t just have to go to a theme park however for a taste of some serious speed. The Orange Speedboat Experience is coming to a wave near you, right here on the Thames.  It’s true.  Granted there’s no Ibiza style yellow banana involved, but you get to wear lifejackets on a vessel with twin 225hp engines. (cool!)  Fly by the eye, take in the tower, and see the sights of your wonderful city in the care of your trusty tour-guides. Suitable for all ages.

Men bearing flesh factor = 6/10 (but it doesn’t really matter as it’s all covered up with a life-jacket)
Orange Powerboat Experience on the Thames - up to 20% off

It’s hard to imagine a world without computer animation, but it wasn’t so long ago that people actually had to draw, with their own hands, and employ talent to bring cartoon characters to life. Shock horror! Now of course, the digital wand is waved and characters like Buzz Lightyear and Woody are almost as human as us. Get back into the great indoors and get behind the scenes with Pixar: 20 Years of Animation. Be among the first in the UK to see hundreds of artworks, models and digital paintings from the Pixar studios, as well as two amazing audiovisual experiences. To infinity and beyond.

Men bearing flesh factor = 1/10 (if there’s a semi naked man, he’ll most likely be in 3D animated format)
Pixar: 20 Years of Animation exhibition tickets - the Science Museum - 2 for 1, from £7

There’s no better escape from the sun-worshipping pasty-whites than a night with a knight in a dungeon.  If swords and corsets are your cup of tea, you could do worse than dinner down at St Katherine’s docks, where you can take part in a real medieval banquet.  Led by King Henry VIII, you’ll enjoy a four course meal with unlimited wine – but guzzle too much and you’ll no doubt increase your chances of forced involvement. It’s always the way.  Still, perhaps a chorus with a Roman strongman or a trick with an Elizabethan magician is all you need to remind you how wonderful (and weird) our city is and has always been.

Men bearing flesh factor = 2/10 (they wore so many clothes back then that it took nine hours to get undressed. Still, never underestimated a determined knight on Mead)
The Medieval Banquet - free beer & wine and £5 off adult price

So, coming up trumps and least likely to put you in the path of a flesh-flasher is an afternoon at the Pixar exhibition, although upon closer inspection it seems that no trip can completely ensure a non-skin exposing experience as we face the months ahead.  Still, you can’t hide behind your sun-hat all summer for fear of indecent exposure.  Get yourself out into the city with one of our great days out. They’re still a lot kinder on the eyes than a stroll through the park in your lunch break. - Becky Wicks

Click here for more cool days out

PS:

Katie goes to Iceland...

Summer is approaching, the weather is (apparently) hotting up and the pale young things of Britain are baring their flesh to all and sundry.  Funnily enough, I recently found myself on London’s South Bank armed with a thermal coat, woollies and nerves of ice.

Before you jump to conclusions, global warming wasn’t to blame, I wasn’t caught in a freak storm and the nation’s heating systems hadn’t given up the ghost.  Nope, I was shuffling my way to wards the launch of IceSpace – the five-star attraction set on London’s South Bank.

The structure is a sight; imagine a giant plastic igloo plonked smack bang in the centre of a bustling city.   It’s huge… and it needs to be.  For two months, the mammoth construction plays host to a touring arrangement of ice sculpture, illumination, technology, music, cuisine, visual arts and performance.

Who needs Iceland when you can experience it without the frostbite and take a tube rather than a husky home?

To be honest, I wasn’t sure what to expect and my aversion to anything involving sub zero temperatures and goose pimples wasn’t a good sign.  Luckily, the gorgeous blue-eyed Adonis at the front gate instilled me with the courage to walk the pebbled path towards the white ‘unknown’.  Is that a Nordic accent I detect?  Nope… five of them!  There’s nothing like some friendly, bronzed eye-candy to warm the chilly cockles.

The entrance is like something straight out of StarTrek. Vacuumed doorways keep the temperature levels low and the excitement levels high. Arctic clothing kept out the cold and surprisingly, I didn’t notice it at all.  Warm drinks went down a treat… there’s nothing like a warm cocktail to win a city girl’s heart.

I won’t give away the icy secrets, but the sculptures were amazing.  Clever lighting, cutting edge beats, performers and giant ice games add to the magic.  Like a child in Santa’s cave I darted between snow encrusted rooms, stopped only by the regal gaze of the Snow Queen.  Now there’s a fancy dress costume I have to get my mittens on.

You won’t need to stay for long… a few drinks ordered at the ice bar can be downed at the ice tables before you get too cold.  Kids will love the skating rink and it’s a great one for those who just HAVE to experience the latest craze.  Santa would agree, IceSpace is the coolest place to be this summer.

By Katie Spain

Book your IceSpace tickets here and get a special 2 for 1 deal

a slice of something nice...

Mention a pizza place and personally, I regress to a time in Brooklyn, NY where having consumed one too many frozen margaritas my friend and I wandered into Giovelli’s for ‘a slice of cheese’ and became the unwitting victims of an impromptu flour fight. My friend woke up the next morning and put on her jacket, only to find two powdery white, man-sized handprints on her shoulders. We didn’t remember the tackle. Or indeed the scoff that ensued.  But we’ll always remember the handprints.

Pizza in England has never been the same.  You can’t wander down the street with a cheese craving and have it satisfied in quite the same way as you can in New York City. Takeaway, microwave and oven pizzas just won't suffice.  In fact, I rarely bother with them here.  I have become a pizza snob.  So it was with doubt in my mind that I wandered into Covent Garden’s answer to the deluge of pizza chain restaurants – Fire and Stone – to sample yet another slice of something different.  Surely they could never match the Big Apple special that saved me on so many occasions.

The truth is that, no, they can’t match it. No one can ever match it, but here’s a place that stands alone in the crowd and asks for no comparisons. The scene of our Christmas party offered 20 amazing, wood-fired, stone-baked pizzas, all made from fresh ingredients, and their inspirations come from all around the world. Fancy a taste of Thailand? A blast of Bombay? Perhaps even a sampling of Sydney? With toppings like caramelized onion jam, sour cream and smoked paprika you can guarantee that whatever you choose, your taste buds will wind up a world away from Covent Garden.

The place is funky too.  Great music and huge colourful leather booths mean you can bring your mates and gossip for hours, or just drink your cares away with a bottle of wine from the menu.  Hmm, but you might not want to inspect your middle half in the full length bathroom mirror after you’ve eaten.  Our Christmas blow-out was full on pizza carnage and we even got to dance downstairs – well, those of us who could still move when the feast from a thousand countries lay as crusty remains on our plates.  This is definitely a place to bear in mind for a party.

At the moment, with an exclusive offer from lastminute.com, you can book now for June and get a massive 50% off a special menu, which has to be a bargain if ever we saw one. 

If you can’t go to New York for some authentic pizza, take my advice and head to Fire and Stone for the next best thing. And there will be no impromptu flour fights, we promise. Well, not on your side of the kitchen anyway…

Book now:
Book now for June and get 50% off

DAN ON: the extreme male makeover...

Facials, manicures, foundation. This is not the language of men about town. We’re meant to be talking about Ronaldinho, rare Bulgarian beers and carburettors. But when the beard is starting to resemble something more “at home with David Attenborough” than   civilised society, it’s time for a Richard and Judy moment… the extreme makeover. For men.

Never let it be said that the male half of the Newsletter Team aren’t in touch with their feminine side. In fact for one day at least, Darren and myself decided to rub moisturiser all over our feminine sides. So having watched the girls get their hair done, get dressed up and get snapped by a professional photographer type person, the guys wanted a piece of the action.

Why? It’s because as much as we pretend to be grunting primates only capable of spilling lager over each other’s manes, most men are actually incredibly vain. Yes ladies, you tear yourself away from the mirror one morning and you’ll probably find your man preening himself peacock-style in the bathroom when he thinks you’re not looking. And yet despite our vanity there is still a stigma attached to spending any time on your appearance as a man. You get mocked if you have your hair cut and mocked if you don’t have your hair cut, so we tend to ignore the whole grooming process and give the impression that we don’t give a flying straightener what we look like as long as The Roxy will let us in on a Friday night without calling the police.

Thus, to address this burning (curling tong) issue, Darren and myself booked ourselves in for the New ID makeover photoshoot. Taking one for the team, if you will, to show that men too can take some time out to enjoy being pampered - and not look like you were kicked out of Babyshambles for resembling a tramp.

First up was the hair. Now my barnet is very important to me. It’s almost always been foppishly (messily) long and I’ve always assumed this has given off a certain air of dishevelled (disorganised) artistic genius. In fact it probably only gave off an air of rotting vegetables, but that’s enough of my personal hygiene. In an attempt to stop my hair curling as much as a David Beckham free kick, my professional hair sculptor (good with her scissors and quality banter about East End pubs), chopped away enough fur to make a tasteful rug for Ikea. Which left me looking a little like the sort of Hoxton-mulleted tool that I used to shout drunken abuse at, but who I now think are really lovely chaps.

Next up was the manicure, and once the lovely nail lady had finished picking her tongue off the floor at the disgraceful state of my nails, we got the full treatment, leaving our cuticles shinier than my old man’s head. The make-up was always going to be the clincher – the moment we crossed the line. This was definitely a step too far and yet I have to admit the facial made me feel warm and tingly, like climbing into a freshly made bed on a winter’s night. Another experience which is something of a rarity for me.

And so replete with foundation and subtle mascara – surprisingly we didn’t want to look like a pair of teenage Goths – we were taken through to have our new looks immortalised on film. Several slightly homoerotic 80s catalogue poses later and well, you can see the results for yourselves. Not exactly the male equivalents of Kate Moss but at least it was all done in the best possible taste. My Mum will probably put one up on the wall. And my new beauty regime? Well I did buy a new beard trimmer last week… - By Dan Pilkington

Get the New ID makeover photoshoot here - now 2 for 1!

PS:

how do you solve a problem like Maria?

Don't know what to do this weekend? Anticipating another two days on the sofa in front of reality television? Well why not be ON IT instead? ON THE TELLY.

Seriously,... the BBC are in search of a new actress to play the role of Maria in the new stage version of the Sound of Music. Head down to the Wembley Conference Centre and audition, but be prepared for the cameras, crowds and perhaps a dash of Graham Norton. Oh who are you kidding, you love it! Doe a deer, a female deer,...

Find out more

what NOT to do this weekend...

Spread the word. If the weather's nice this weekend, it's not an excuse to rid yourself of clothing and flaunt your pasty self all over town. To be quite honest with you, the last thing I want to see while eating my Sainsburys sushi box in St James's Park in my lunch hour is a semi-naked rotund business man who prefers to carry his shirt rather than wear it. I think we all agree that this is helping no-one and certainly doesn't help to keep the sushi down either.

PUT. IT. AWAY.

"I have a talent, a wonderful thing..."

There used to be a little man with a receding hairline and a weakness for KFC who’d stand in the corner of my local pub, press his lips to the microphone as if it were a juicy breadcrumbed thigh and effortlessly murder every Bon Jovi number in the catalogue. He was Karaoke Ken.  A lost, deluded soul who upon being told he would, actually, nev er be a rock star, took it upon himself to do the next best thing - stock up on his favourite hits and share them with the masses every Wednesday in The Bull and Cock. Occasionally he’d let the rest of us have a go, but most of the time it was just Ken. Just Ken and his karaoke, continuing to live the dream. Poor guy.

Anyway, it was with Ken in mind that I dubiously stepped into Lucky Voice last night – perhaps not all karaoke evenings had to focus on a Bon Wannabe with a bald patch. With eight other girls and a vocal warming session over a batch of 2 for 1 cocktails, I was more than ready for my singing debut. And although we were, admittedly, very merry by the time we arrived, we couldn’t help but notice the genuine charm of the doorman, the knowing smile of the receptionist who’s seen it all before and, oh, ok, the devilishly handsome bar man who gave us our first bottle of wine.

Yes. This is the classy kind of karaoke that was so lacking back in the Bull and Cock. There was no patterned carpet in sight.  No beer stained cardboard folder full of ancient songs that no one knows, and no waft of greasy chicken what-so-ever.  Lucky Voice takes Karaoke to new levels, and as we’d soon discover, new and extra high volumes. Thank god for the sound-proofed walls.

As we took our comfy leather seats in the largest of nine private rooms, the waiter brought us our wine in buckets of ice. Naturally I spilled my first glass, but it was soon topped up. All we had to do was press the little light on the wall and someone helpful would come running.  Note to self, must install one of those at home. Wine spillages are par for the course however – you can take the girls out of the pub but you can’t take the alcohol out of the girls. We were more concerned with choosing our songs however, all of which are laid out in glossy books – there’s even an ‘inspire me’ folder in case you get stuck. As if we ever got stuck. More fun is punching the numbers into the screen on the wall and skipping the ones you thought you could sing but actually can’t. (Most of them).

I forgot to mention, as always there were the few who swore they weren’t going to sing anything. “I’ll come but I’m not singing, I’ll just watch” they said. Yeah, right.

After five mojitos and a white wine injection, those bashful introverts were the ones who, three hours later, almost had a cat fight over the microphone when the Spice Girls came on.

It’s now almost 24 hours later and thanks to 170 photos and eight excruciating video clips captured on a mobile phone, we’ve been able to piece the night together. It looks (and sounds) like musical carnage but dear God, it was amazing. We’re all now complete Lucky Voice addicts, have signed ourselves up on the mailing list and have even begun to plot how we can justify a corporate membership. Team meeting in the deluxe booth over a few Madonna hits, anyone?

This is no Bull and Cock. This is pure karaoke heaven – a haven for the tone-deaf wannabe’s wandering aimlessly through Soho in need of a plan. Get yourself to Lucky Voice for a night so good you’ll probably forget it. 

Poor Ken would wet his pants if he saw this place.

Book your top tuneful night out at Lucky voice here

PS:

Get reel with Confetti...

Imagine The Office’s sense of humour on a larger scale and you’ll have some idea of what director, Debbie Isitt appears to be trying for with this British mock-u-mentary. The film focuses on three couples, each with their own issues, vying to tie the knot in the most original way.  Thus we have a pair of super-competitive tennis players, two opinionated naturists, and two musical fanatics who long for a Busby Burkeley extravaganza, all battling it out to win a dream house, courtesy of Confetti magazine.

All the greats are here - Martin Freeman (The Office), Jessica Stevenson (Spaced), Robert Webb (Peep Show) and Green Wing's Stephen Mangan among others, and let’s not forget the ludicrously camp wedding planners, Vincent Franklin and Jason Watkins.  With such a talented cast and improvised from start to finish, Confetti holds the promise of something truly great, but there still seems to be something missing. 

Instead of focusing on what should be the bonding element of competition, we seem to have a bit of an emotional mish-mash as each couple comes to blows over various rom-com clichés, ie, the jealous fiancé, the interfering mother-in-law, the father who “was never around” but decides to show up. You know the score. All of this is handled in an appealing way and you never lose your affection for the characters involved, but it does tend to leave much of the film’s comedy elements up to the wedding planners, which, after a while, gets a bit tedious. After all, we paid to see funny stuff from the people we know can do it so well, and we end up with a lot of gay gags that have been explored before.

There are however, some brilliant, comic genius moments.  Stephen Mangan’s physical outburst of jealousy towards his tennis coach, and the whimpering wedding planners that follow it more or less make the first half of the film. Martin Freeman’s best man, (Marc Wootton) and his musical attempts to sabotage the ceremony with piano led lyrics such as:

“you used to be so cool, now you can’t stop w*nking on about your sofa”

will have you sniggering into your popcorn. Mark Heap (Spaced, Green Wing) makes a welcome appearance as the discerning registrar, and hats off to Robert Webb, who spends pretty much the entire film completely starkers. The man’s got balls.

Confetti’s not as memorable as you’d like it to be.  There just aren’t enough laughs to render this a classic piece of British comedy, and it does at times seem to lose itself in its attempts to be a little too poignant for the likes of the audience this cast is likely to attract.  But with so many familiar faces and “situations we’ve all been in”, you’ll definitely spend a couple of hours with a smile on your face when you say “I do” to this one. - By Becky Wicks

PS:

Every 'BODIES' talking about...

It’s bad enough looking in the mirror when you’ve got a hangover – seeing your face all haggard and worn and tasting the aftermath of the vodka party that took place on your tongue. Imagine staring at yourself on the inside, watching the alcohol wreak havoc with your liver. Imagine surveying the smoke you inhaled as you sat in that human ashtray all night, curl around your nice pink lungs and choke them into a darker shade of grey…

Usually you’d just take the bacon butty and hide your sins behind another episode of Hollyoaks, but the truth behind your aberrant actions is on display right now over at Earls Court. ‘Bodies… The Exhibition’ is getting the whole town off the sofa to discover a truth about the human form that’s far from any textbook analyses.  This time, we’re learning from real people.  Yup, it’s true. Although they might look like giant science class models, all the bodies in this exhibition were once alive and breathing. They’ve actually been preserved with a chemical solution called polymer and all the water replaced with acetone. Now that’s hardcore. Puts David “I can live under water for a week” Blaine to shame, really.

The best thing about this exhibition is being able to see with your own eyes, what the textbooks and plastic exhibits fail to hammer home – the full on effects of our excessive lifestyles.  Obesity, cirrhosis of the liver, bone fractures and breast cancer are all issues tackled in fascinating glass cases. And the separate room displaying a series of foetal developments is definitely not for the squeamish.  Flesh, bones, organs and arteries are all on display and available for your perusal at extremely close range.

There are no velvet ropes here – probably because no one really wants to touch a pound of human flesh that looks like beef jerky.

Perhaps the most memorable part of Bodies is the pair of blackened lungs, positioned next to a pillar box in which to drop your “unwanted cigarettes”.  To the non-smokers they serve as a serious and sickening reminder of how even sharing a room with those fatal fags can take hours off our lives.  God only knows what the smokers must think.

See this before it leaves London and no doubt goes on tour to teach the rest of the world a thing or two about the way we treat the shells we’ve got to live inside forever. For a nation that spends so much time worrying about how they look on the outside, Bodies is one exhibition that really does prove it’s what’s inside that counts. - By Becky Wicks

Test your own body to the limits, in a good way:

• Indoor skydiving - special 2-for-1 - For a Limited Time only £49
• Introductory flying lessons - from only £89 
• Tank driving experience - get tanked up £159
• Zorbing - Special Offer 2 for the price 1 - £35
• Ferrari driving at Silverstone £99

PS: