Rain, Whinge

It has suddenly leapt from slightly nippy and dry to warm and wet. For once today the opaque air was genuinely down to sea fog and not smog but even this did not cool the city down. It wasn't hot per se, but it reminded me how uncomfortable it was when I first got here...

I blackmailed Daisy into going with me to take photos of musical instruments I needed to go with an article I've written. It was something I'd been putting off and putting off but I finally got round to doing it. I've got some ok photos but I'm really not a photographer...

The British style rain and the dwindling weeks left in Qingdao have turned my attention to home- namely the election there. I feel kinda sorry for Nick Clegg. It was all so... rosy a few months ago. Party in power. Acclaim for self. AV referendum promised. Strong public support for AV. And then he went and spoiled it all by betraying the very people who put him there. What did he think would happen, when he reversed his policy on fees? That people wouldn't notice?

I rather liked the idea of AV- it offered a chance to end the presently neverending seesawing between Labour and Tory governments as each eventually causes a big enough cockup to remind the populace that they actually like the other team better.

So the Tories have bad ideas (tuition fees what a MESS that is becoming) and the Lib Dems are reluctant to complain too loudly. This is, after all, likely to be their last time in power for a while... Which leaves the Labour party. Which is utterly devoid of anyone remotely worthy to lead the United Kingdom. Where's the real Heir to Blair?

Wait, I forgot the SNP. Actually, Salmond genuinely believes in something. They value health and education.

Tempting...

I went to Book Nook which is a foreign language bookshop with a scary, hysterical American owner. I bought two Conn Iggulden books on Julius Caeser. AVOID THIS AUTHOR. Unless you like cliches, unrealisticly perfect characters and insultingly portrayed female characters that betray the author's complete misunderstanding of women's emotions and sexuality, more suited to the sticky imagination of 15 year old boys. In which case, go ahead. I have two books spare. I'll pay you to take them.