Everyone's going to be at the Carnival!' I overheard this on my way to work this morning, and by the time you read this, the riot of colour and noise that is the Notting Hill Carnival will have been and gone. I've been to the carnival before and loved it. If it's sunny, you can squint and pretend you're in Brazil. The parade is loud and proud, with sequins flying off the dancers' costumes and drumbeats that reverberate in your ears for days after. Jerk chicken is cooked in front gardens and sold per wing, sizzling tin drums full of spiced rice line the pavements, and beer cans are sold off for a quid each by enterprising Rastafarians.
Small groups gather and dance excitedly by a tinny stereo and large crowds move as one to a hypnotic rhythm booming out of a huge sound system. Old, young, black, white, policemen and civilians unite. There are, of course, always some arrests, but, on the whole, for such a large, music, drink (and whatever else) fuelled event, usually less than you might expect. Still, I'm going to push off out of it. You see, I love the carnival, but it really does happen in my back yard.
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Graham Norton's elegant East London home hits the market, and it's just as wonderful as you would expectThe four-bedroom home in Wapping should be studied for how well it uses two separate spaces to create a home of immense character and utility.
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Sign of the times: In the age of the selfie, what’s happening to the humble autograph?When Ringo Starr announced that he was no longer going to sign anything, he kickstarted a celebrity movement that coincided with the advent of the camera phone and selfie. Rob Crossan asks whether, in today’s world, the selfie holds more clout than an autograph?
