I've been so good today. You'd be proud of me. I finally got round to doing my neighbour's garden and she is ever so chuffed. Loads of pretties, not a lot of dosh. I got footed it to the UEA library where I spent an hour doing some research on journeys and waded through some of the most dense writing to rival Roland Barthes and show Fredrick Jameson a thing or two. And then...and then I tried out the camera my boy lent me. And it died. Flat battery. Typical.
When I did a search on the UEA and NSAD catalogues I found quite a section on journeys and tourism and it looks really interesting. I'm not going to cover it tonight, I'm really knackered and I've got another early start in the morning. But the good news is that the literature should provide a theoretical framework by which I can hang this project, and it looks fascinating, even if the language is somewhat dense.
I'll leave you with this fabulous quote by Ellen Strain from Public Places-Private Journeys: ethnography, entertainment and the tourist gaze. "As a core component of the tourist gaze, the illusion of demediation offers the false promise of communion with authenticity and an escape from the very mediation that the semiotics of tourism unveils."
Is there a bullshitologist in the house? What exactly does that mean?
Bank Holiday Sunday
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