Anyone who has even scanned in passing posts on this site alongside those on my old music blog will know that the past few years have been marked by two key obsessions... the tide of inventive and surprising music emanating from Scotland, and a ponderous but passionate exploration of the Lower Lea Valley. Anyone who has ever met me in person will equally be either amazed or utterly bored by my ability to flit between these subjects with equal fervour. So it seems impossible - or at least absurd - that these things should ever converge in any way. That's why I ended up writing in two separate places. And I suspet that's also why not too many people read what I write in either of them.

So it was both surprising and oddly validating to find this project. Surface Tension was commissioned by the organisation Thames 21 as part of their 'Love the Lea' campaign, and aimed to create a 'sound-map' of the river and its environs. Starting in Cheshunt, soundings were taken in the vast swathe of green that envelopes the river's manifold channels and diversions as it winds from its source to the Thames. As the river heads deep into the suburbs, and ultimately into the contested zone which I've spent my time exploring, various methods of expressing its presence were tried and tested: hydrophones dangled into Bow Creek, river water used to expose photographs, tape loops marinated in the chemical-rich effluent. Diversions were followed - Pymmes Brook and the various navigation channels explored - and the life of the river recorded. From the sound of Overground trains shuddering over low viaducts to football matches on the vast expanse of Hackney Marsh, the acoustic footprint of the river and those drawn into its presence in was catalogued and preserved.

When I first read about the project I was perhaps a little sceptical. Arts funding is ever more scarce, and it's hard to see how projects like this will become part of a permanent folklore beyond a funder's annual report. But then I spotted who was involved. Rob St. John is an Edinburgh-based musician who produced one of the most atmospheric, impressive and expansive records of the last several years in 'Weald'. One of the most intriguing abilities St. John displays in his work is how he connects music with place - the list of location-specific projects he has been involved in bears further exploration for sure - from the folksong of remote islands to the sounds of narrow Lancashire passageways. The idea of this strange link between music I've loved and a place I've reluctantly been drawn to explore so comprehensively felt just a little unlikely at first. How could this all link up so neatly?

But the end product is beautiful and oddly-hypnotic. A thirty minute trip along the river, set against a soundtrack of rare beauty. Flecks of guitar twine around loops of tape. Fragments of conversation and yelled football strategies disappear behind traffic and clattering trains. Pulses of electronica shift in and out of the frame. St. John's connections with Meursault and a range of other Scottish acts are exploited too - with Pete Harvey's cello and piano work slipping in during quieter passages - the river's ebb and flow of chaos and peace, purity and pollution marked by changes in the score. Quite apart from anything else, this is a beautiful piece of music which unravels its secrets with repeated listens. By turns relaxing and oddly edgy, it mimics the feel of a walk along the lower reaches of the Lea surprisingly accurately. While the composition - along with an impressive book designed by FOUND's Tommy Perman - sits as a remarkably coherent and enduring artefact of the project, intriguingly the project website retains all of the pieces of the assemblage as they were recorded - snatches of audio, photographs, maps and snippets of disjointed text. With these it's possible to reconfigure your own journey's along or across the river, to reassemble them to reflect a different experience of the curious and varied life of this remarkable and enduring waterway.

You can purchase the CD and book or digital download at Bandcamp, and you can find out more about the project including hearing the original sound recordings via a 'sound-map' of the River Lea at the Surface Tension website.

This month has seen me out and about far more than for a very long time, and along with other happenings here, I'm feeling much happier and more positive due to my regular trips. I hadn't planned to be out today, but a check mid-week remarkably saw cheap tickets still available for Easter services. Took the opportunity to follow up on a gensheet posting about diversions via Middlewich and headed for the north west. So, after a freezing early start, settled into fully reliveried 220001 for the journey to Birmingham, noting FGW's reformed 158950 on it's first day in service at Bristol. After that, a quiet, rather sleepy journey up to New Street.

Changed at Birmingham for a Liverpool service operated by one of London Midland's Class 350. Bit of a livery cavalcade today, with a variety of versions of their green in evidence at New Street. Another quiet and quick run up to Crewe in cold but bright weather. On arrival, greeted by 67003 manoeuvring in the station. Otherwise a very quiet, very cold and windy morning. Had well over an hour to kill with very little happening except for a parade of Pendolino's, not going all the way today due to the much-publicised weekend of WCML closures. Finally the quiet was broken by 60076 appearing from Basford Hall with a ballast train. Wandered off to find my next service.

In fact, finding the 12:26 to Llandudno was far from easy. The departure boards failed to mention the train at all, and an enquiry with Virgin staff met with an equally blank response. I showed my reservation, at which the staff-member's eye's brightened: "Ah, yes - you need to catch a bus for Chester. Over there on the Horse Landing". I wandered off in despair and semi-concerned my journey had been wasted. Having checked the journey planner before leaving I noted that the service was due to leave platform 1 so I made my way over. Soon enough, a Voyager appeared from the Derby line and the screens advertised the service, although it still failed to show on the departure boards. Once onboard, noted I was the only passenger in First aside from a railwayman learning the road. After checking I knew it would take nearly an hour to Chester, the Train Manager kindly fetched tea and biscuits, and we were soon off! Took the branch at Sandbach onto what appeared to be freshly maintained track. Middlewich was, I recall, once a fairly common diversionary route - but the controversial and botched resignalling here has left it out of use for some years. Once past the Hays Chemicals plant, little to see until the salt works with it's strangely lunar landscape. A flurry of snow as we passed Middlewich loop, the site of the station and a fairly sizeable settlement. After a slow crawl onwards, we reached Northwich South Junction, with the chord leading out to the station in very poor repair. We took the curve towards Mouldsworth and were soon making somewhat faster progress towards Mickle Trafford Junction and then Chester.

Greeted by 67029 at Chester, for the first time in it's history in a photographable position as far as I'm concerned! Decent light due to a break in the clouds, so got some shots before wandering out of the station. Soon got cold and returned for coffee and a sandwich before heading for the Holyhead-Cardiff service I was planning to catch home. Very busy on arrival with passengers from the ferry, we left a few minutes down due to the unloading time. Via Wrexham and onto the Marches at Shrewsbury. A little south of here the steel-grey clouds closed in and we found ourselves heading into a blizzard. Quite stunning views of the hills capped with snow as we passed. Arrived at Newport on time, to find that once again FGW had cancelled my train onwards. Resigned myself to an hour's cold wait. Glad to have finally achieved this unusual diversionary route though.

Over the weekend I assisted a fellow #lemming to build GNOME via jhbuild. In fact, very little assistance was needed - aside from a few quirks which seem to relate to different packages being built with a variety of autotools setups, which are soon fixed.

Perhaps the most impressive bit came later, when after experiencing some strangeness, he ditched his .gconf and .gnome2 directories, switching effectively to a 'default' GNOME 2.6 installation. The defaults made sense, and were experienced as an improvement over the existing set-up.

While much bilge has been talked about the reduction in options exposed immediately to the user in GNOME 2.x, this just goes to show - sane defaults are the key. Here's to a leaner, meaner set of preferences in 2.8....

Despite being a week prior to the due date, today was my leaving meal. I was frankly pretty terrified - I just don't usually put myself in these sort of situations, and I'm only usually happy with being the centre of attention when I'm on terms which permit maximum pomposity. A pep-talk, and a walk to the venue later and I was fine. It all went very well I understand. I really can't remember a great deal beyond the first couple of hours, which is possibly a good thing. Aware that I work with a fine bunch of people (in the main), and that I will miss some of them a great deal.