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Bug Eyed In Melbourne

So, could you fall in love with a city where this ugly looking crustacean is the local and very seriously expensive, speciality? It's called a Moreton Bay Bug. Although it doest actually taste a lot better than that other Melbourne speciality - flies...


Morton Bay Bug


You've all seen those comic Aussie hats with corks dangling from strings. Believe me they are no joke - they are essential survival. My hike along the stunningly beautiful Sorrento peninsula, en route checking out the tunnels and gun emplacements containing the cannon which fired the first Australian shot of World War Two, at a German warship, (it missed), was marred by swarms of flies - and I mean SWARMS - whole mouthfuls of them, buzzing around my face. By the time I got back I didn't need lunch, I'd had my protein fix from swallowing several dozen of the things. Melbourne does flies, big time. But fortunately it does a lot other things as well, in particular some of the best food on the planet, fine architecture, incredibly friendly people - and it has a real positive energy vibe about it.


The darker side of Melbourne


Interestingly Melbourne has a surprisingly violent underbelly - and has been plagued for years with gang warfare - serious, grown-up gangs, with over thirty brutal gunshot murders in the past few years. Maybe that saying "the light can only shine in darkness" is true, and for a city to be truly "alive" it needs to have a dark side to it. That is what makes my home city, Brighton, so vibrant - its long history of being a haunt of criminals.

I was in Melbourne on a combination of research for my next Roy Grace novel, and book promotion, on the second leg of what has become known as the PJ World Tour! The first leg was in Thailand, where in Koh Samui I experienced my first ever New Year's Day full-body hangover. The result of joining in a mad Swedish tradition of "jumping into the New Year." Literally leaping off chairs, at midnight, into the New Year. Not wise when you are seriously drunk.... Nearly a month on I still have the bruises.... But back to Melbourne, and two strange but very happy coincidences:

I needed to visit the homicide division of the Melbourne police, but on the day I arrived in the city my contact who was to arrange everything, totally let me down. Then out of the blue I got an email from a fan, called Janet Vickers. Would I let her know if I was ever coming to Melbourne as she would love to come to a signing. When I emailed her back that I was actually in Melbourne (!) and if she would like to drop off the book at the hotel, I would happily sign it, she replied that she lived out of the city but her husband was a cop, and he would bring it to me. I emailed her back asking if he would speak to me. An hour later the phone rang, and Detective Senior Sergeant George Vickers was on the phone, kindly offering any help I wanted.


Melbourne CIU Officers


Next morning the absolutely charming George (second from left) picked me up with his colleague Troy Burg (third from left - can you believe this serious looking homicide detective plays the banjo at weddings as his relaxation???) and took me to the HQ of the Victoria Police CIU (the Criminal Intelligence Unit - their equivalent to our CID) where I met their team. Then they asked me what I needed to know for my book. I told them that as result of the drought (which has plagued Melbourne for six years) a river level drops and exposes the roof of a sunken car, in the boot of which is a corpse - which turns out to have a UK connection, and Roy Grace sends two officers over to investigate. Detective Senior Inspector Lucio Rovis, (on right) the head of the department, looked at me in amazement, and told me what I had described had just happened, a mere week before!!!!

George and his team were brilliantly helpful, taking me to the river where the car had been found, spending hours talking me through all the procedures my UK detectives would go through out there, then taking me to the forensic labs (where I saw this burnt-out wreck, in the boot of which a suspected local gang member had been found, shot dead, a week earlier) and then to the mortuary, where I met my hot date, Wilma. (she used to be called Wilfred, until a visiting forensic anthropologist corrected them... but hey, love is blind as they say...) It is a bizarre thing I've noticed in Australia - you don't see any old people. I really mean it, you just don't see any. Almost everyone is under 30. I don't know what they do with old folk - maybe everyone over forty gets culled and ends up like Wilma... or perhaps they just have great plastic surgeons. I feel like an ancient relic there!


PJ's hot date with Wilma in the morgue


So did I like Melbourne? I fell in love with it, totally. It has instantly become one of my favourite cities in the world - I liked even more than Sydney. It is not breathtakingly beautiful like some cities, but it is very easy on the eye, very humanly proportioned with lots of water and parks and a fine mix of old and new buildings. And it has so many great restaurants I don't know where to begin with recommendations. But Longrain for amazingly good fusion food, Waterfront for seafood, Loquat (in Sorrento), upstairs at the Portsea Hotel, and Taxi are all, as the Michelin Guide would put it, "worthy of a detour". So is the Little Creature beer from the Perth brewery - by far my favourite beer in the world now. Hunt down the bars that serve it. If you can't find that, Boags is very good, too.

But of course you are in Oz, so you could go trade down, go native and be a real Bogan: All you need do is put on your best Dame Edna accent, hire a muscle-engined ute (pick-up truck), load it up with slabs of VB (Victoria Bitter) pick up a Sheila or two, fire up the barbie then settle back and spoil yerself. Just don't forget your corked hat - or you'll be dinner....

Singapore Slingshot

Reluctantly leaving New Zealand (blog on which to follow) where I've been treated wonderfully, and the amazing Pennys's bookstore who put on the best window display for my books I've ever seen - spot all the artefacts from Dead Simple - the shovel, the whisky bottle, the walkie talkie, etc... and the CDs from Looking Good Dead!



I'm starting the Singapore leg of my world book tour on Tuesday, and on Wednesday, Jan 24th I will be doing signings at the following times: Do come along and say hello if you are in the area.

January 24th, Singapore
2pm - 3pm
Borders

4.30pm - 5pm
Times The Bookshop, Plaza Singapura

5pm - 6pm
Times The Bookshop, Marina Square

New Zealand Coming Up

Currently in Australia on a tour to promote Looking Good Dead, with New Zealand next up. (You can see my full public appearance schedule here if you're interested).

There was a nice clipping in the New Zealand press which explains my upcoming appearance in Hamilton (you can read it here), and Linda at Penny's Bookstore has also put together a spectacular promotional poster!!!

Peter James in New Zealand


If you are in Hamilton, please do come along and say hello - it would be great to meet you!

Making Elmore Leonard Disappear!

So I'm just back from a glorious week in the ski resort of Courmayeur, high in the Italian Alps, where I was President of the film jury at the Courmayeur In Noir film and book festival. Sounds grand, "President", but actually (as the pic shows) the reason I got voted President is because I was the only juror who didn't have a beard...

5 Just Men
5 Just Men (and translator)


The others were film director Mike Hodges (one of my all-time heroes, more of whom in a moment), Italian rock and re-mixer superstar Boosta (and a really, really nice guy) and film directing brothers Marco and Antonio Maretti (also wonderful people).

The week was a total blast - we were put up in a glorious hotel, all expenses paid, and had to watch 2 movies a day, eat three stunning meals a day and drink all the fine quality wines we could force down our gullets. This was work??? As they say - a tough job, but someone had to do it... The only really hard part was staying awake during some of the films - because of our alcohol intake (!) not because they were boring - apart from the awful Spanish film, Salvador, which really was the pits, along with the mind-bogglingly dull Polish film, Palimpsest, which prompted Mike Hodges to whisper into my ear, half way through, "I can understand why so many Poles become plumbers." (whatever happened to all those wonderful Polish film makers of a decade or two back????)

Word of warning to the team behind Salvador: If you want to get a film jury on your side, please obey the following basic rules of common sense and courtesy :

- It is really not smart to start your film at 11 o'clock at night having advertised it to start at 10pm. It is even less smart to have the film's director, who has the personality of discarded orange peel, talk for the best part of that hour in Spanish, detailing what we are going to see in every frame of the film and giving the entire story and ending away - or rather, would have done if Mike Hodges and I could have understood, but he only bothered having an Italian translator, even though he must have known that two of the five jurors sitting in front of him spoke neither language.

- It is even less smart to have a film start at 11 o'clock at night that is going to run for 138 minutes entirely in Spanish, with only Italian subtitles, when two of the five people going to vote for it speak neither language.

- If you are going to make a film, for God's sake make something original. This turgid political thriller has been made a thousand times before, and better every time. Even when viewed in other languages I don't speak.

For me the undoubted movie highlights of the week were a wonderful, dark and edgy Icelandic film called Children, directed by Ragnar Bragason - this was a stunner, with some truly memorable performances, and won the Jury Prize (although not according to the Festival's website, which has done some post-event tinkering with our verdicts - and we wonder why.... ) a beautiful film about a young pianist, La Tourneuse De Pages, and Nick Cassavetes' Alpha Dog, to which we awarded the prize of Best Film - a very powerful and convincing film based on a true story of an abduction that goes wrong and turns to murder.

We also saw Last King Of Scotland which I was ambivalent about. Forest Whitaker's performance is awesome, but the film irritated me because it bore very scant relationship to the facts as I know them about Idi Amin and his entourage. I so hate films, like Braveheart, that purport to be historically accurate and which aren't. They distort history and that is a very dangerous thing to do.

One absolutely highlight for me was the totally outrageous French comedy film, OSS 117, a wonderfully cast spoof on Bond and very, very funny, and totally politically incorrect - for which I loved it all the more. In fact it is so politically incorrect, with the hero, Jean Dujardin - who has to be destined for superstardom. He has the suave looks of a young Sean Connery, the bumbling insensitivity of Peter Seller as Clouseau and the guileless innocence of Chevy Chase. I nearly fell out of my (very uncomfortable) seat with laughter when this incompetent secret agent, in a Muslim country for the first time in his life, furious at being woken at dawn by the muezzin, climbs up a minaret and silences him! Tickets to the world premiere in Baghdad anyone?????

But my biggest highlights were meeting not one but two of my heroes. The first was Mike Hodges, who directed the original Get Carter, a landmark film that in my view changed the face of the modern cinematic thriller - and more recently he directed Clive Owen in the wonderful Croupier. And the second was Elmore Leonard. The man!!

PJ and Mike Hodges
PJ and Mike Hodges


The three of us had dinner together, accompanied also by the very amiable Adrian Wootton who runs Film London. Elmore was on sparkling form. Undoubtedly the biggest selling crime writer on the planet, and an extraordinary guy to boot - 81 years old and sharp as a tack, and he still smokes, 15 a day, needing them to write, he told me, puffing away with me on a Virginia Slim menthol light after we sneaked out of the restaurant together for a quick smoke with, like two schoolkids behind the bike sheds...

I told him that whilst I loved Get Shorty, when I recently re-read it I couldn't get John Travolta out of my mind as Chili Pepper. Elmore nodded sagely then confessed, 'You know, I have another problem with John Travolta. I can never think of anything to say to him!"

Afterwards was when the wheels fell off. An elderly friend of mine who was a former Pan Am pilot (he started off flying Pan Am out of Berlin in the years after WW2 when the Germans were not allowed their own airline) once told me his theory that the people who are most likely to screw up are usually those at the top of their professions. He went on to warn me that if I ever found myself on a plane that was to be flown by the senior captain of the airline, to get off at once. More often than not it is the senior officers who cause the crashes - from complacency. This was true of the world's worst air disaster ever, he told me, when in 1977 in Tenerife a KLM 747 collided with a Pan Am 747 on the runway, killing 583 people. It was entirely the fault of the Pan Am pilot, one of their most experienced officers, who had become impatient after waiting several hours for fog to lift. He had radioed the tower asking if it was now OK to go and the tower replied no. But there was radio interference and, despite the co-pilot arguing for caution, he misheard it as a "yes" and proceeded, taxiing into the path of a KLM plane that was taking off.

Complacency is also true in the medical profession. I knew a senior orthopaedic surgeon in the UK who once amputated the wrong leg of a man - again from complacency. So was it any surprise that Mike Hodges, my great director hero, a true giant and veteran of his profession, should be incapable of performing the simple task of taking a photograph????

All he had to do was take a photograph of me and Elmore Leonard. Could he do it? Could he hell!!!!


PJ and Elmore by Mike Hodges


As the photograph shows, the one Mike took of me and Elmore simply showed me and Mike Hodges's finger!!! It took a man who knows how to organize things, Adrian Wootton, to eventually master my new phone camera (crap quality, but handy...) and get the job done. And poor Elmore, stood with the patience of a saint, posing with me for a good fifteen minutes!

PJ and Elmore by Andrew Wootton
PJ and Elmore by Andrew Wootton

Blind Date

I was put up as a dinner date by the German crime-writing website Krimi Couch - they held a national competition centred around the promotion of the hardback launch of Looking Good Dead (Stirb Schon) in Germany this autumn, and the luck (or unlucky, depending how you look at it...) winner got to have a dinner-date with me. (Second prize was dinner with me twice, third prize, dinner with me three times...)

So, a few weeks ago I was told a winner had been declared, a restaurant in Munich had been booked, so would I kindly shave, put on my favourite cologne (currently Comme des Garcons, since this blog is meant to be informative!!), some smart clothes, get on a plan and haul ass to Munich's Literaturhouse Restaurant for an 8pm rendezvous with She- Who- Wanted- To- Meet- Me - who turned out to be She- Who- Wanted- To- Meet- Me rather a lot as she was going to drive 200 miles for this dinner!

Oh dear, I thought, on hearing this news. Images of Fatal Attraction sprang instantly to mind. A German bunny-boiler, driving two hundred miles with a dagger beside her and its glint in her eyes... And then, as if it could not get any worse, it suddenly got a whole lot worse...

Three urgent messages beeped at me as I stepped off the plane in Munch. The first was from my German editor, the amazing Andrea Diederichs of Scherz, asking me to call her urgently. The second message was asking me to call her even more urgently. The third sounded virtually like an all-ports alert emergency. I called her. There was a big problem, Andrea told me. Apparently the woman had a very jealous husband, who had decided to book a separate table in the same restaurant so that he could keep an eye on us. Oh, and by the way, Andrea informed me, he is a 300 pound gorilla of a truck driver.

So, great, well then the evening was shaping up nicely, I thought. If she didn't get me with the knife, he would rip my head off with his bare hands. I decided to go easy on the Comme des Garcons, to make it easier for the tracker dogs to find my buried remains... Then my ever vigilant editor rang with another suggestion. Perhaps I should take an escort along?

Good plan, I thought. Except that the only SAS squaddie I know was currently busy in Iraq. So I decided on a rather hastily devised Plan B. I would take a male friend with me, Hans Jurgen Stockerl (the Greatest Living German Actor) with whom I do all my readings on tour in Germany and he would join the husband and broker the peace! Then before reaching the restaurant we decided on Plan C. We would all sit together. When I saw the husband, with whom I could instantly see I would come a very bad second in any fight, I realized that this had definitely been a Very Good Decision!!!

In the event we did all sit together and we had a delightful evening. Far from being a bolshy man, Stephan Koenig, a tanker driver, turned out as so very Germans do, to be quite delightful. He spoke fluent English and, as also is the case so often in Germany, he was way better read than many British university graduates. Anja too was equally charming - and not even the gleam of a dagger within sight...

Three might be a crowd - but hey, as they say, there's safety in numbers!


Stephan, Anja and Peter

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