The Only Gringo in the Village

Sleeping dog, Lavras, Brazil.

What ho Gringo's!

Much like Hampstead, Lavras has it's pro's and con's but political correctness is neither of them. Naturally, we Goldstein's are made of sterner stuff than to let the odd well-intended nickname offend. In fact, I'm rather enjoying being the only Gringo in the village.

The upside to such Brazilian towns, which happen to be stuck somewhere between 1972 and 1978, are obvious. Stupendous weather, a laid back atmosphere, cool looking old cars, great coffee, very quiet Sundays and not a screeching ambulance siren in sight. At least 90% of the population don't even use a mobile phone... how very lovely. Oh for the days when Hampstead had Sundays. Real, quiet Sundays with nothing but one or two coffee shops open for raisin toast and one old man walking his dog. 

Yes, on Sundays here in Lavras, jovial woofing dogs like the above pictured happily sleep the day away in the Plaça Augustus Silva without a care in the world, let alone an old man. No old men required, you might say. It's enough to make any old Hampstonian overflow with cheerfulness and contentment.

But it's not all honey and roses in small-town Brazil. Remember, there were no catalytic converters in 1978 and thus it is in Lavras [on non-Sundays] that plumes of black smoke - a lá un-serviced London Taxi - do suddenly force themselves upon unsuspecting pedestrians. Most unpleasant. Indeed, compared to this, a lung-full of the old Hampstead breathing matter seems positively Swiss mountain-ish in comparison. And although they have no screeching sirens, there's noise pollution a plenty with mega-boom-boxes blasting out God knows what at all times of day and night from a multitude of VW Beetles and rather cool looking, Starsky & Hutch-ish Chevrolets.

Meanwhile, back in Hampstead with 40 days and 40 nights of rain apparently availing themselves upon the old Stead, I'm quite happy to put up with the odd bus farting in my face and loud automobile stereos. 

Dearest Hampstonians, I shall bring the old Current Bun back to Hampers with me upon my return but, alas, can't guarantee when that will be, if at all, ever. 

Toodle pip and may the blessing of Lord Gainsborough be with you!

Emmanuel Mustafa Goldstein x

AWOL Editor in exile.

26ºC Ta very much.

Editor goes A.W.O.L.

Auto Posto São Mateus in Carrancas (pronounced Cahhunkas), Minas Gerais, Brazil's Petrol Station is up for the Blue Star Garage look-a-like Award 2012.

Dearest Hampsters!

It would appear that editor of the Hampstead Village Voice, your very own Emmanuel Mustafa Goldstein has gone absent without leave. Said editor was last spotted at this charming little petrol station in the small mountain town of Carrancas, somewhere in Brazil.

A spokesperson for the CIA who have been keeping tabs on Mr. Goldstein for alleged, un-American activities in the name of Hampstonian independence admitted, "We've lost him for now but we do know he was in the Cahhancas area last week."

Meanwhile, Hampstonia prepares for the 5th anniversary edition of the Hampstead Village Voice, some of which may have been written in the back room of the above petrol station. M16 have suggested it will be out in July and will almost certainly contain a centre-page commiseration of Tesco-Stressco's 10 years in Heath Street.

Viva La Blue Star Garage!

Juanita Rugenstein v. Frognal. 
The Contessa Juanita Rugenstein von Frognal.
pp. Emmanuel Mustafa Goldstein A.W.O.L.

Spring Edition Doing Splendidly!

Above: the poster currently adorning Hampstead's bill boards

Hello Hampsters!

Apparently edition 15 of the Hampstead Village Voice is selling like hot cakes. This may be in no small part to the horrendous name dropping going on in my absence.

Apparently, whilst I'm off sunning myself by various pools in Brazil (ed. well, naturally I've been borrowing a couple of millionaires houses, as you do), Professor P. Dant will - at his leisure - be on grotty old poster duty and dropping names like nobody's business. Good show Professor and, needless to say, we all look forward to your next enlightening piece in the Summer edition of Hampstead's only, and therefore favourite, satirical magazine.

Oh, yes, and do have a peak at all those exclusive pictures of Stevie Wonder, Thierry Henry, Peter O'Toole and Co. in the current Hampstead Village Voice. No, don't just leaf through it at the newsagent - buy the bloody thing you cheapskate!

Toodle Pip!

Emmanuel Mustafa Goldstein x x x

Editor in Ronnie Biggs' old thong.

Defending Hampstead's Trees

What a pity. See page 13 of the current Hampstead Village Voice

What would Hampstead be without its trees? They are the the thin line between unbearable urban ugliness and Hampstonian gorgeousity (ed. no such word... until now).

If I'm not mistaken, there is now only one of the originals left in the central 'island' of Church Row after another blasted lorry nudged it's neighbour over. We'll be looking at what Scamden and/or TFL could do to help preserve Church Row in the Summer edition. Until then,why don't you pop off down to your local newsagent, buy the Spring 2012 edition and read page 13?

Meanwhile, over Well Walk way, was it really necessary for Scamden to murder this lovely tree outside The Priors in East Heath Rd? See this short film sent in by Mr. David Lewis who, along with myself, has his doubts.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7SVo174LHC0&feature=colike

Viva las árboles del Hampstonia!

Toodle Pip!

Emmanuel Mustafa Goldstein x

PS. árboles = trees in Spanish

STOP PRESS: Apparently the tree became rotten as a result of previous pruning work to make it "safe".

Rickidulous

Ricky Gervais enjoying Hampstead.

Pic. courtesy of Bauer Griffin

Cycling down Perrins Lane on Bessy the Hampstead Village Voice bicycle this morning, I was greeted outside the King William IV with a big Ricky Gervais smile.

"Hi Ricky," Said I.

"Hi, how's it going?" said Ricky.

"Good. Just got the new edition [of the Hampstead Village Voice] into the shops."

"Is that the official Hampstead Village Voice bicycle, then?" he grinned.

"Yep, it's the official company vehicle, all right," I returned.

"It'll end up in a museum one day," said Ricky.

"I'm more likely to end up in a museum, first," Said I.

Well, it was the best I could come up with at short notice and my future as a Hollywood scriptwriter cum chat-show guest is far from assured, but it would certainly appear Mr. Gervais has settled more comfortably into the local Hampstead community. So I hereby promote him from Hampster to Hampsteadite, just for being nice and starting to enjoy Hampstonia.

Well done, squire.

Toodle-Pip!

Emmanuel Mustafa Goldstein x

Self elected Chairman of the People's Republic of Hampstonia.

Huggable Hampstead

Huggy and Hutch

[Antonio Fargus and

David Soul] enjoy

a night of much joy in La Gaffe

What's the point in spending £3.75 on a frothy-tripple-extra-shotty-latte-Grandé-arsebucks-decaf if you can't leaf through a vaguely interesting read whilst doing so?

Wouldn't you better better off buying the Hampstead Village Voice for £2 and drinking a single espresso for £1.90 Ed. Er...no you wouldn't. You'd still be 15p down on the deal.

And if you can't read, then why not have a leisurely butcher's at our exclusive Hampstead photos of Stevie Wonder, David Soul, Antonio Fargus, Peter O'Toole, Jurgen Klinsmann, Patrick Veieira, Thierry Henry, Robert Pires, Martin Bell and Jon Moss whilst you slurp your ristretto.

And don't you dare let those corporate robots up-sell you a "double espresso". If they do attempt such a thing, simply look them straight in the eye and, in as charming a manner as possible, ask them, "Are you trying to up-sell me a shot of caffeine, darling?" - Ed. The 'darling's optional.

Toodles-Pip!

Emmanuel Mustafa Goldstein

Editor in Caffeine

PS. You can now also purchase the Hampstead Village Voice in Budgens, Belsize Parkistan for £2 cashski. How very splendid.

Edition 15's at the printers

Them wer't days: Flask Walk 1973

It is with much joy that I announce edition 15 of the Hampstead Village Voice is winging (Ed. Don't you mean whinging?) its way to the printers and, all being well, will be with your local newsagent no later than the 1st of March 2012. Hoorah!

Once in your grubby little paws, it'll feature a punishing critique of the ruthless corporate invasion of Hampstead High Street, combined with a rather endearing trip down memory lane when Fowlers in Flask Walk (above) sold single cigarettes to children and no one seemed to mind. Ay, them wer't days!

What else? Oh yes, Professor P. Dant has a most splendid rant at those blasted 1 mile deep basements; the High Street Spy has a go at the Post Office for up-selling insurance to old ladies; the Ham&High gets a hammering (Ed. don't you mean Ham&Highering?); La Gaffe celebrates 50 years with Stevie Wonder and Huggy Bear; there's an exposé on cheap and nasty letting agencies attempting to rent out Hampstead flats in a rather unethical manner and a whole lot of other good shit.

Also, exclusive Hampstead photos of Thierry Henry, Jürgen Klinsmann, David Soul, Martin Bell, Patrick Veiera and Robert Pires. Cor blimey guvnor!

To read nearly an exact replica of this mumbo jumbo, visit www.hampsteadvillagevoice.com

Toodle Pip!

Emmanuel Mustafa Goldstein x

Editor in law suit.