It's a Saturday afternoon and I really shouldn't be on the computer but I'm eating a peach and drinking sweet tea so you don't have to worry about me too much.
Here goes . . .
ta-daa.
Taking a cruise with the curators at Fleet Street.
The boat is named Stewart Lee after our favourite miserable comedian.
The fore deck.
And I built a coracle, as a tribute to the Hackney regatta. No one in Germany could really guess it was a boat so I put a sail on it. Rosalie named her Emily Speed after a friend.
I like your insides Emily Speed.
There's plenty of coitus on the boat, courtesy of Schweiker's papier mache figures.
Rescue flare courtesy of the unhinged man in the barmy apartment.
A shark.
And last but by no means least our figure head which was made by a boy of around ten. It has a Gilbert face from one of my favourite Gilbert and George pictures, and amazingly tactile breasts that he created by putting plastic bags in the feet of a pair of tights.
Well there you go, a very successful holiday I think. I'm headed home tomorrow to a Britain smarting from those 'orrible rioting dicks. I hope it hasn't changed too much.
I've really liked Germany and Hamburg, I don't know what I've learnt - probably something though.
See you in Blighty.
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