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The haymee.com blog continues here.

Why? blogger.com gives me more flexibility, makes posting much easier, and allows me to post by e-mail. It will make interacting easier - in other words, readers, please leave comments! The only change you will notice is that all postings will be dated with their post date and time - nothing will be retrospectively dated.
Sat 11 August 2007
New broom
To Salisbury, to Roxana's, with toolkit and scruffs, to tear her bedroom to pieces, and reposition everything, assemble new bed, take down old shelves, put up new ones, fill holes, clean, and do magical things to her PC (Steve's department).

Then, after dinner, with Duncan, to a nearby pub, and back for wine and cheese.
Sun 05 August 2007
Oh, you meant the cars
Am I surprised to have a headache this morning?

Ian, sleepless after the last night-shift of the week, made sandwiches and we got away only an hour late. Walk to Cambridge station, train to Whittlesford, then a pleasant - if hot - walk to Duxford, to the Imperial War Museum, which now runs the World War II airfield. It was 'Spitfire Day', and we were promised - according to the brochure - to "get up close" to Spitfires on the ground and "watch these wonderful aeroplanes in flight" at the place which is "home to more airworthy Spitfires than anywhere else in the world." In other words, we were expecting a veritable cornucopia of Spits.

So we were a little disappointed to discover just two planes parked on the airfield, behind a rope, plus one fibregalass mock-up, and one more in the huge - and admittedly impressive - giant hangar housing many of the RAF's past warbirds. Another one flew in later, there were two un-announced take-offs, and two actual aerial displays. By the time of the second display we were walking back to the station, a little weary after a day of traipsing, and enjoyed the slightly more authentic view of the beautiful plane and the sound of the throaty Merlin wheeling over the Cambridgeshire fields.

We did take full advantage while we were there of looking around Airspace, the giant hangar, walking through the Concorde prototype, and marvelling at a Lancaster, Harrier, Jaguar, Vulcan, and many, many other past British aircraft; and then round the American equivalent - which to my mind was better because you could get close enough to touch the B-52 , the Liberator, the B-17, and you could peer through the front windscreen of the strangely futuristic, slightly scary, round-nosed B-29. Both collections were like an Airfix-obsessed kid's bedroom writ very, very large.

We enjoyed sandwiches and beer in the shade, and later had an ice cream from a proper ice cream van! It was also really nice to spend the day with my bruv.

There was a huge display of Triumph Spitfires outside as well, so we figured maybe that was what they meant.
inside 'Airspace' at Duxford

two Spitfires parked at Duxford

a Spitfire flying over Duxford

Triumph Spitfires at Duxford
Sat 04 August 2007
When is outside not outside?
Steve isn't really interested in Spitfires, so today I left him on his own at home and headed for Cambridge. Dave was in, and then Ian turned up, and we crossed Midsummer Common to the Fort St George, where Mike was already getting himself outside a suitably cold pint. Ciders and lager (yes, I know...) were drunk, and good conversation was had, only marginally spoiled by having to get up and walk to the other side of a glass panel to have a cigarette. I mean, we were already outside in the garden, but somehow the five foot panels combined with the sunshade apparently constitued being 'inside'. By the way, did you hear about the council who took the glass out of all their bus shelters, so they weren't 'enclosed spaces', but then got so many complaints about the weather roaring in that they had to reinstate them, complete with statuary 'no smoking' signage? It's all such nonsense.

Shortly after we got back Mike put the finishing touches to a delicious dinner: taglietelle to start, then a slow-cooked stew, washed down with good red wine. Hmmm... cider, lager, and red wine...
Wed 01 August 2007
Cross your legs
It's rare that I agree with anything Clarkson says, but since I was awoken in my hotel this morning by noisy people pulling their little trolleys of golf bats along a path outside my window, I admit he may have something.

On holiday recently I read Jonathan Glancey's Spitfire: The Biography, which was fascinating and told me all sorts of things I hadn't realised, such as the fact that what is now the Jaguar (car) factory at Castle Bromwich assembled Spitfires during the war. I sometimes pass near it (it's just off the M6), as I did today to go to a nearby B&Q, and suddenly the wonderfully energetic sculpture in the middle of the roundabout outside made sense. I had thought it was just a celebration of Midlands manufacturing and metal-working, but in fact the three planes apparently soaring into the sky leaving trails behind them are, of course I can see know, Spitfires. I went and took a couple of pictures (not easy because the area is most definitely not designed for pedestrinas) and also found out the roundabout is called Spitfire Island, so that confirms it!

Leaving Castle Bromwich and wanting to head towards Mancheter initially, I did my absolute best to avoid getting on the M6 Toll. I can claim the charge back, but I wasn't in a pressing hurry, so there was no need to use the toll road. I had the sat-nav routing me to a point well north of the Birmingham conurbation 'avoiding motorways', and all was going well along the A5 and A38 until I saw a sign at a roundabout indicating 'M6 North'. So I thought I may as well take that - after all it wasn't the M6 Toll, and even if there was a bit of traffic, by this time I'd be clear of the main congestion, and it would probably be quicker. So off I went, diverting from the sat-nav route. And found myself, after some driving, at another roundabout which now indicated '(M6 North)' in brackets, and a sliproad onto the M6 Toll. I could have turned around and retraced my steps, but possibly the shock and upset took over. I mean, I ended up joining the bloody road one junction before the toll booths, so paid £4 for a few short - and completely avoidable - miles on the toll road. Gutted.

In Manchester called in briefly for a cup of coffee with a friend resting from work for a couple of days following 'the snip' - if you know what I mean. Cor... it's a painful thing to even think about, never mind go through! An eye-watering description of procedures didn't help. Yowsa.
Castle Bromwich Jaguar factory and Spitfire Island

sculpture on Spitfire Island
Thu 19 July 2007
Smokin'
So the Home Secretary, and another senior minister in the Home Office, have admitted to smoking dope* while at university. And the great and the good and the mighty are shouting about how terrible this is. I say: three cheers to them for admitting it, in a real world where we can't possibly expect a cabinet of saints.

Travelling down the M6 this afternoon I was shadowing for a period of time an 07 reg Ford Focus estate, very similar to the one I'll be getting soon. It was a 'Titanium' whereas mine will be a 'Ghia', although the differences are only, I believe, my cruise control against his sports seats and 'privacy glass'. But it was actually the exact same colour, which I haven't really had a chance to observe properly yet - I had to choose it from the brochure, not the best way of making the decision. But it did look really good on the Focus. Despite the fact that, as I've said before, it is a box on wheels, perhaps it doesn't look too bad, and I'll probably enjoy driving it. After all, Ford, while generally dull, are never a bad drive.

And I'm looking forward to being able to listen to my MP3s and podcasts from my iRiver via a dedicated connection to the stereo, rather than as at present through a noisy and unreliable cassette adaptor.

The psychology of motorway services credit card girls. I haven't fully worked out yet exactly who they try and waylay, but I have noticed that they don't try and accost me if I'm wearing my filthy work jeans, tatty trainers and dirty t-shirt, but sometimes they do when, as today, I'm wearing smarter attire. But I do know the best way to politely avoid them: just smile broadly but don't say a word in reply. Today's conversation opener, as I walked out with a cup of Coffee Nation coffee and a bottle of Evian, was, "You can't drink and drive sir. Why don't you come and talk to me for a few minutes while you drink that?", which was eight out of ten for originality and wit.

*Let us not forget the leader of Her Majesty's Loyal Opposition who has done nothing to refute the rumours about his own alleged University 'experiences'.
an Ocean Blue Ford Focus Titanium estate
Tue 17 July 2007
How Special Branch?
Today's news is that anti-terrorist police in London have been given special access to congestion charge cameras so they can track people across the capital. Am I the only one who is shocked to discover they haven't already been doing this as a matter of course?

I'm definitely noticing more Focus estates, now I know I'm going to get one; I'm seeing them everywhere. I have to say it is a purely functional box on wheels; it has no sense of style about it whatsoever, and it is certainly not the car I would have chosen. I do like the look of the new Golf estate, or would much have preferred, based on a balance of past experience, an Astra estate; but both are ruled out.

Weather events seem to be becoming more extraordinary and noteworthy. Today driving down from the West Midlands into Worcestershire and Gloucestershire through relatively flat countryside with a big sky, you could see weather fronts, and practically see the clouds bubbling without the need for speeded up film. Different shades of greys and whites - a painter's dream. I wish I could paint, I wish I had the time and the talent to paint - a good artist could absolutely capture this, the extraordinary mixture of the blackest black and the bluest blue and the whitest white all in the same frame, as it were. The weather is changing and becoming more of a dominant force, and we're not yet catching up with its potential to affect us. It's outside of our experience, and I predict much worse to come.

Whilst briefly stopping at our Head Office, I learned that my company is apparently considering - and this is just a rumour at the moment - banning any member of staff from revealing on a blog or social networking site, who they work for. My two bosses (I have a slightly complicated line management structure) revealed this to me in anticipation of my reaction. Which was, as expected, a mixture of complete bemusement and amusement. They told me not to worry about it, because they were as annoyed by the very thought of it, not to mention its total unworkability, as I was. They have no desire to police people's private lives, and so long as they don't bring the company into disrepute (already, we thought, part of our Terms and Conditions) can just be left to do what they please in their own time.

So here I am proud to say that I work for WH Smith. So, do your worst! Incidentally, two things: firstly this is not the first mention of the fact on this site; and secondly, I have a rule about haymee.com - I never remove anything I have written, providing it's not illegal. I never go back and amend any entry in light of subsequent events. So nothing you ever read here, apart from an occasional typo I have noticed, has ever been retrospectively changed, nor will it ever be. I will never remove anything because it embarrasses someone, or because they don't agree with it, unless I am legally forced to by a court order.

If it does become a rule, it'll be unenforceable. And of course I won't bring my company into disrepute anyway. In general, and notwithstanding the occasional bit of silliness - like this for example - I enjoy working for WH Smith, and I really love the job I do. That should more than outweigh anything I might say of a slightly negative nature, such as the recent car policy fiasco. And do you know what, I wouldn't even be bringing this to anyone's attention if my employers hadn't raised the issue in the first place!
Mon 16 July 2007
Golf v. Focus
New car ordered today, and despite various misgivings, on paper it looks generally better than what I'm driving now. It's got higher torque (important for me), an even smaller turning circle (and the Golf's is pretty good already), alloys and front fog lights, and I'm getting Xenon headlights as an optional extra. It's also generally more powerful and faster, but with lower emissions (how?)

  2003 model VW Golf estate 2006 model Ford Focus estate
Trim SE Ghia
Engine 1.9 TDI 1.8 TDCi
Engine capacity 1896 cc 1753 cc
Power 74 kw at 4000 rpm 85 kw at 3700 rpm
Max torque 240 Nm at 1800 rpm 280 Nm at 1900 rpm
0-62 mph 12.7 seconds 10.9 seconds
Max speed 117 mph 119 mph
Fuel tank capacity 55 litres 52.7 litres
Combined cycle fuel consumption 52.3 mpg 53.3 mpg
CO2 146 g/km 139 g/km
Turning circle 10.9 metres 10.4 metres
Luggage capacity ('boot') 460 litres 482 litres
Luggage capacity (with rear seats down) 1470 litres 1525 litres
Front / rear fog lights no / yes yes / yes
Heated front windscreen no yes
Cruise control yes yes
Air conditioning yes yes
Lumbar support yes (optional extra) yes (standard)
Heated door mirrors yes yes (integrated indicators)
Alloy wheels no yes
Length 4397 mm 4472 mm
Width (inc mirrors) 2003 mm 1991 mm
Height 1473 mm 1501 mm
Sun 15 July 2007
Invasion of the killer ants
Well, maybe a slight exaggeration. Walking into Croydon this afternoon to do some shopping we were shocked by the swarms of - both crawling and flying - ants. They were everywhere, from the bottom of our hill right into the centre, and bothering everyone. While we were in town it absolutely tipped down, kind of like someone emptying buckets of water from the sky, for ten or fifteen minutes, drenching to the skin anyone unlucky enough not to be taking shelter, as we were. But it seemed to literally dampen down the ant plague.
Sat 14 July 2007
Anarchy in the UK
My birthday present to Steve was tickets to see 'Boeing Boeing' tonight. Despite a stellar cast, and some rave reviews, we were both somewhat disappointed. Adrian Dunbar was like an over-the-top am dram actor; Rhea Perlman was mis-cast, effectively just playing Carla; Neil Stuke's performance was too subtle for anyone unfamiliar with 'Game On', though he certainly got the biggest laughs; Amy Nuttall was fine though bland; Elena Roger's accent was as impenetrable as it had been when we watched her in 'Evita'; and only Doon Mackichan struck the right note of farcical surrealism which anyone who has seen here in 'Smack The Pony' and 'Green Wing' will know. Having said all that, most of the audience seemed to thoroughly enjoy the whole thing, so it must just have been us. I'm sure we would have found it funnier the first time around, in the seventies, in a more innocent age.

Afterwards, standing outside a nearby pub to smoke (fortunately it was a gorgeous evening) we watched car after taxi after mini-van turn through the No Entry signs opposite to escape the gridlock the 'legitimate' way.
Adrian Dunbar

Rhea Perlman

Neil Stuke

Amy Nuttall

Elena Roger

Doon Mackichan
links: panda | boeing boeing   
Fri 13 July 2007
Lucky for some
Let me tell you a story about contact lenses. Some time ago I had my eyes tested, and had new glasses, but it was much later that I went back to Vision Express to ask if I was suitable for daily disposable contact lenses. My prescription is quite strong, and only recently has technology allowed the manufacture of my strength (plus I have astigmatism). Anyway, the long and the short of it was that I passed on Vision Express's offer to supply me with lenses on a Direct Debit basis, because I felt they were misleading me, and weren't flexible enough for what I wanted.

So I have been looking elsewhere, and had decided to buy some online, in fact from Sainsbury's. So I made certain, and double-checked, that I had the all the right figures in all the right places on the screen, I put my credit card details in, pressed 'proceed'... and then was told I had to send, fax or e-mail my prescription to them before they could send me my lenses. I didn't actually have a copy of my prescription, but I did have an order form from Vision Express with my prescription clearly shown on it, so I scanned it and sent it off, only to have Sainsbury's phone me up later to tell me they now needed my authorisation to contact Vision Express to obtain my prescription.

Well, now they have that information, but it seems cannot guarantee I'm going to get my lenses before we go on holiday. If I'd gone with Vision Express, I'd have had them ages ago. Ho hum.

Left home today, and whilst sitting in solid traffic on the M25 somewhere near Chertsey I had a sudden stomach-knot-tying thought: had I closed the kitchen window? I went over and over the sequence of events as I left the flat, but I just couldn't be sure. So I had to go back, which made me very, very late for where I was going. Fortunately the person I was going to see, and my boss, were very understanding.

Which may have explained how I was able to resist saying something about the completely ridiculous BMW 4x4 monstrosity which the chap turned up in. What may have thrown me was the paradox of him being such a nice guy, yet driving such a hateful vehicle. I don't know. When he drove off in it later, it seriously sounded like a lorry. How can people justify these things?
an unnecessary BMW X5
Thu 12 July 2007
Rats
How to separate someone you like from their actions which you don't? If Chris Langham is found guilty, how does someone who admires his talent deal with his excellent 'body of work', such as 'People Like Us' and 'In The Thick Of It'?

In the post today, news that Volkswagen are going to bring out a new Golf estate in August. As it happens this time around, thanks to my company's latest car policy, I have very little choice about what I can get anyway, but at least I did have the consolation that VW seemed to have stopped making the Golf estate.
Chris Langham in 'The Thick Of It'

the new VW Golf Estate
Wed 11 July 2007
Freedom and Democracy
Google Earth is apparently censoring certain sensitive areas in the US, fuzzing them out. But with the news that a new class of Chinese submarine has been picked up by Google Earth on the North Korean border, this just serves to highlight the power of the Google brand. It's OK, though, for such a groovy, hip company to collaborate with the Chinese authorities to effectively censor that country's internet; are Google getting too powerful?

The main road out of Croydon to the south, the A23, is always congested (despite the new Coulsden bypass, very poorly planned), so for some time now I've been using a short cut which gets me to the motorway on a series of urban then country back roads. This route, though, is getting more and more congested itself, I think for two reasons: firstly, many other people are doing a similar thing to me, especially these days with sat nav able to find ways round obstructions; secondly, though, the roads are falling apart. For example, there's a bridge over a railway on the route I take, but apparently this has become too weak and unsafe to support two lanes of traffic, so now we alternate at the command of a traffic light. So now I'm having to look for a back route around the back route.
Tue 10 July 2007
A very very very big house
With the motorway congested this afternoon (more than usual, that is) I took a detour along the country lanes of a particularly moneyed part of South Buckinghamshire, catching occasional glimpses of houses flashing past through high hedges. These, though, were the sort of houses with detached garages, the sort of houses you can't see from the road, the sort of houses with gatehouses. I imagine these houses cost several millions each. The village had a cricket match taking place on the green late on a Tuesday afternoon, and a sign "SLOW: Ducks In Road". I'm not trying to sound jealous or envious, and remember I used to live in a small village, not as rich as this one (though I'm sure property prices have gone skywards since I left about nine years ago), and they have their advantages and disadvantages. And I do appreciate the countryside more because of it, the work and pursuits of those who live there. For example the idea that huntin', shootin' and fishin' are elite pursuits is simply untrue, and a great many people depend on them for their living; they are expected to be unpaid custodians of the countryside so that townies can go and enjoy it for a day. Sorry, got a bit off the point there; these were just disgustingly wealthy people's houses.

The car (now at 155,000 miles) has turned into one continuous creak: the suspension, despite its recent repair, is shot; the air-con when repaired last time lasted a day before it stopped working again; one of the headlights is out, but I've not made time to get it sorted. Besides which I'm almost at the point now of having given up on this car, knowing it's going soon and a new one will be coming. I seem to care about it less and less. I mean I like it still, or rather I remember liking it... there are certainly things about it I'll miss. Actually I'm not so much looking forward to getting rid of it as I am looking forward to getting the new one.

Our little trip to Paris at the end of summer has been booked. It'll be Geoff's first visit there, and I'm hoping he likes the place as much as Roxana, Steve and I do.

Some really positive news: there are some companies able to produce great, non-discriminatory advertising, and awards have been announced. Check the link.
my Golf
links: award winners    
Sun 08 July 2007
Nine podiums
Lewis 'only' managed third at Silverstone today, but that's nine top-three positions (including two wins), and seventy points, in nine races in his first year in Formula 1. And he's only twenty-two. Not bad, I'd say.

They announced these so-called 'new seven wonders' of the world today, based on an (unrepresentative) internet vote. Many of the choices I agree with, such as China's Great Wall, and the Colosseum in Rome. But how can the 1931 statue of Christ the Redeemer towering over Rio be classed a 'wonder', when Stonehenge and the Acropolis are left off? I mean if the Brazilian concrete statue fell down, they could make another one, not something you could say about those piles of stones in Wiltshire and Athens.

It's been a weekend of website maintenance. Click on pics, go on...
Stonehenge

Parthenon, Acropolis
links: new 7 wonders    
Sat 07 July 2007
Live Earth: neutral
Watched a bit of it, and thought it rather uninspired, plus the TV production was awful, and the midday on-stage swearing was clearly a bit problematic for the Beeb. Anyway, I wanted to use that headline, OK?

With Steve away overnight, I had pizza and beer. Fab, although I'd rather have had Steve here and something sensible to eat!
pizza and beer
Sat 30 June 2007
ELAS yrelleweJ ooZ
We left at some silly hour of the morning and Steve drove (I slept) down to Salisbury, where we'd promised Roxana we'd help her move some furniture, although when we got there we had to go out and buy the belated birthday present she chose: a new Dyson. No luck at Comet (closest), but Currys obliged.

While Roxana went to work, and Steve and Geoff went into town, I did a bit of furniture removal and hoovering (Dysoning?) and so on (so much easier without other people around), and everyone seemed pleased with the result... which was nice.. After the Doctor Who series finale had been watched we disappeared to the Haunch, for those last few puffs before the bastard ban at 6am tomorrow.

One of what I presumed to be Geoff's work t-shirts, advertising a sale, was hanging upside down in the bathroom, and every time I went to the loo I marvelled at it. I know I'm odd, but that's what makes me me.

1 day to go.
the last cigarettes in an ashtray in The Haunch of Venison, Saturday 30th June 2007
Thu 28 June 2007
Basil-esque
This morning I was 'served' breakfast in my hotel by a woman who may have watched too many Fawlty Towers episodes in the belief they were training videos; or she may just have been rude and ignorant. I like to give the benefit of the doubt where possible.

I arrived at the entrance to the breakfast room, but there were no staff. Having waited a minute or so, I went in, found a table (not hard: there was only one other guest in there) and helped myself to some juice and cereal. Eventually this lady appeared, saw me, and I immediately knew that she was annoyed that a guest had dared walk in without her invitation, without being ticked off on her sheet, without waiting to be shown to the table of her choice.

Even before she had reached me she asked me, very brusquely, "What room number?", and when I replied "Fourteen" she turned immediately and started to walk away, towards her tick-sheet on the desk by the door. So I called after her, "May I have some coffee please, and some brown toast?" She shouted back, "Yes."

After some time she reappeared and put a pot of coffee on my table without a word, and walked on to start clearing another table. A minute or so later as she walked past with a tray of dirty plates, I politely asked, "Is my toast on its way?" She glared at me and said in a particularly sarcastic tone, "Yes, it's two minutes in the toaster." I was momentarily stunned, but as she walked away I called after her, "I only asked," at which she seemed to relent a little, turned and said, "Yes, I'll bring it out in a moment," which she did - although it was mixed brown and white, and already cold.

Because she just happened to still be in the restaurant when the next guests arrived, she made a great play of being fawningly polite to them, showing them to a table ("This one will be better for you, it's a little larger") and asking them if they'd like coffee and toast. All for my benefit, I'm sure.

"They're not getting enough information; and they're not getting enough protection." Fading up Radio 4 and quickly fading it down. Ah yes, You And Yours again, just like on the 14th June last year.

When do babies stop looking at your hand when you point, and start to look at where you're pointing? Animals never learn this, but children do. Do chimps and gorillas, ever? Just one of those questions that pop into my head from time to time.

Is it my imagination or are Foreign Secretaries getting younger these days?

I'm rather glad to be away tonight, as I see from looking at the telly-box that Piers "Morgan" Moron seems to have escaped and is in Croydon.

3 days to go.
Wed 27 June 2007
Interregnum
Driving out of Croydon this afternoon I passed a chalkboard by the side of the road with the intriguing message: "Warning - purple distraction ahead". And indeed just around the next bend was a purple field, and a trestle table set up in the entrance: "Fresh cut lavender available here". They were right, it was distracting.

Did you know that for around half an hour today we had no Prime Minister?

Cherie called out, as the Blairs left Downing Street for the last time, "We won't miss you" but I can't help thinking that rather than addressing the assembled reporters and TV crews, perhaps she was actually talking through them to the rest of us... but would they dare report that?

4 days to go.
lavender
Sun 24 June 2007
Living in the past
Before breakfast I went and put some more money in the meter, and afterwards we checked out and took the car up the long, steep hill towards Combe Down. Some time ago when we first discussed this trip, I'd suggested we both got to Bath by train, and we could walk up to school. I mean, I used to run up this hill most mornings in the Upper Sixth (during my 'fit' phase), I've cycled up it many times, and walked up it countless times. But sense prevailed and I brought the car.

First we turned left, past the school and along the route of many a cross-country, past Longwood where I played rugby in the 'scraps' (the leftovers from the first and second teams) and towards the University. Then we turned and drove in the other direction, forgetting quite how far we used to walk to the newsagent - where I remembered I once had a subscription to the Eagle comic. Anyway, after that we were still way too early for Mass, so we drove back down to Widcombe, the village at the bottom of the hill, and parked and had a coffee in a rather charming little organic/fair trade café called Kindling.

We drove back up Ralph Allen Drive again, this time turning through 'those' gates and into Prior Park. We parked outside the Mansion, and encountered a teacher from those twenty-two years ago, Mr (Gerald) Davies, and his wife, and we walked to the Chapel with them. Mr Davies had been a housemaster, although not ours, and Head of Rugby. He was greyer, and seemed somehow smaller, but - to me at least - instantly recognisable.

I don't 'do' Mass these days, and my reasons for wanting to attend this weekend were purely nostalgic, so I was disappointed when the Headmaster made an announcement (at the wrong time and length, in my opinion, but that's by the by) at the beginning to say that most of the pupils were away on CCF or D of E activities. The choir was very good though, and the sound of that organ in that space was as awesome as ever. Mass was given for the late John Aloysius Ward, Archbishop of Cardiff, an old boy, although - unsurprisingly - no mention was made of the stain on his reputation caused by his ill-advised and controversial redeployment and non-reporting of a paedophile priest.

Afterwards we took pictures in the Chapel, then walked to the Mansion where coffee was served. There, too, we met the only other person we knew, Sister McPeake, the Matron in our time. Both the Davieses and Sister recognised me although struggled to remember the name, but both looked vacantly at Vic even when he had told them who he was, which led him to conclude, and confirm, that his time at PPC had mostly passed below the radar.

Walking out onto the Mansion steps, and taking in the valley and the view of Bath beyond, brought a lump to my throat. I marvelled at that vista, in autumn as the woods were golden-orange, in the snow, in the fog, in the rain, indeed in every conceivable type of weather, for six of the most formative years of my life, and I hadn't seen it for around twenty, so it was bound to be emotional. I took a couple of pictures, but concluded that I had taken much better ones a long time ago, so what was the point? With the Mansion Hall filling up with old chaps we made our escape, and drove out to the George in Norton St Philip, a very fine and very ancient coaching inn, with countless little bars, which Ian introduced me to many years ago, and ate a good lunch.

The school has at some point since we left carved a new driveway from what we referred to as the middle drive up through what had been the all-weather hockey pitch to the playing fields. The 'slaughterhouse' (an old and somewhat dangerous ruin, out-of-bounds but nevertheless played in) has been repaired, there are extensions on most of the classroom buildings, the shooting range has vanished and been replaced by... another block of some sort, but most of the place was fairly recognisable, I'm glad to say. Proportions are important, and Prior, centred as it is on three glorious stone buildings at the top of an artificially-landscaped valley, has to keep its sense of proportion in the modern age, and I believe it still does.

It had been raining to a greater or lesser degree all day, and it became quite clear when we had driven up to the pitches that the cricket wasn't going to be on. We sat in the car by the pavilion for a few minutes, debating whether or not to get out, but there were no new faces since Mass, and so we concluded that we'd come and done what we'd set out to do, we'd dwelt enough in the past, and it was time to go. We did agree though that if there was a Class of '85 reunion, we'd go.

So I took Vic back to Cheltenham, had a coffee with him there, and came home.

7 days to go.
Our Lady of the Snows chapel, Prior Park College
links: kindling coffee | john aloysius ward | george inn    
Sat 23 June 2007
Bitching in Bath
Matt arrived this morning to spend the weekend with Steve, while I finished packing and turning my car back into a car (it spends most of the time pretending to be a van). As soon as I was ready I set off to Cheltenham, where I picked up Vic, and after a bit of booze shopping in Morrisons we set off down the A46 to Bath. The one-way systems confused the sat-nav, but eventually we found somewhere to park near the hotel. We should have realised that paying the meter more would carry the time available over to the Sunday morning, but we didn't, so I have to put a new ticket on the car at 0830 tomorrow, which is a bother.

The hotel is very central, and very nice, although as soon as we'd checked in we left it and set off, initially to look for a shop selling cigarettes (I'd left mine in the car), and then a pub. Vic, who not only went to school here as I did, but later lived in Bath for a time, kept complaining that they'd moved things, although I just think his sense of direction is shot! We had a pint in the Salamander(?), where he showed me on the back of his digital camera the pictures from his and his girlfriend's recent cycling holiday in and around Barcelona. Then before it got too late, we found a very nice Chinese restaurant, called I think simply 'Peking', after which we wandered some more.

It felt great being back in Bath after all those years, and noticing things once so familiar, but since then almost entirely forgotten. We ended up in a very laid-back establishment which Vic once frequented, called The Bell, and had several pints, and put parts of the world to rights. I thought I'd probably had enough, so we set off again. By now the city had started to get busier with the late-night Saturday crowd of bizarre youngsters, and we were tempted - well, to be frank, Vic, who was wearing a leather jacket, was tempted - by the pavement tables outside what turned out to be, ironically*, an Alsatian bar. I was only in a t-shirt, so our (expensive) beers there were, for me, a little chilly. But what a great time we had, sitting on George Street, watching the drunk and under-dressed youths making idiots of themselves. We had fun commenting on who and what we saw; discussed the state of Britain today; wondered whatever possessed some of them to think that wearing that was a good idea; and Vic admitted that he had been asked before, "how come you're such a bitch and you're not gay?" Once it got too cold, and the bar wanted to close anyway, we headed back to the hotel and broke open a couple of the bottles we'd brought from Cheltenham, and talked into the early hours.

*When we were at school Vic's parents lived in Alsace, and one summer holiday I spent a couple of weeks there with him and his family.

8 days to go.
links: bath abbey hotel   
Fri 15 June 2007
Christmas all wrapped up
Holiday booked today: a week in Puerto de Sóller, soon. We don't normally do beach/pool holidays, but this resort (where I went with my parents when I was ickle) is not, despite being in Mallorca, typical. And boy do we need the escape. Can't wait.

Word has arrived today that I may, finally, be allowed to order my new company car. Looks like it has to be a Ford Focus, but I guess that won't be too bad.

Into london this afternoon to meet Steve, have a quick drink with him and Matt, and then we're both off to the London Studios to watch a recording of the final (bizarrely Christmas-themed) episode of the new series of QI. Very interesting and entertaining. On the panel tonight... Jo Brand, Bill Bailey, Sean Lock and, of course, Alan Davies. I just love - always have - hanging around television studios. We sort of crashed the rap party afterwards. Actually we were officially guests of the production, through one of Steve's engineers who works for the production company. Bumping into Mr Fry (literally in the case of Steve) and the others is a bit odd, but we feel suitable privileged.

Afterwards to Thai Silk for a reassuringly expensive meal.

16 days to go.
Ford Focus Ghia estate

Jo Brand, Alan Davies, Bill Bailey, Sean Lock and Stephen Fry

view from London Studios
links: puerto de sóller | qi   
Thu 14 June 2007
In the news today
The Vatican has told members of its bizarre cult... sorry, that's Catholics to you and me... to stop forthwith any support for Amnesty International. What!? NO! Why? Because AI has dared to suggest that some poor African woman who has been gang-raped by renegade soldiers might want to have an abortion - or rather should herself have the choice - they are beyond the pale and all the amazing work they do in the cause of human rights must lose Catholic support. Holy Mary Mother of God, what is going on? It's almost as bad as the fact that they - the Vatican that is - will still not countenance the use of condoms to stop the spread of AIDS.

And what about the woman who bit off that chap's testicle? Ow........

Made some bread today for the first time in ages - but I may have put a bit too much yeast in. What do you think? It kind of exploded inside the breadmaker, and I had to slap it down, you know, knock the wind out of it a bit, show it who's boss.

17 days to go.
haymee's loaf
links: amnesty international   
Wed 13 June 2007
Register here
The driver of a silver Range Rover is going to get a speeding ticket in the post, providing his vehicle is displaying the correct registration plate. He was driving through the roadworks on the M25 at 70-80mph in the 50mph average speed check section. He deserves the ticket because he can't read the big red, white and black "50mph" speed limit signs, combined with the large and frequent "Average speed check" signs, combined with the yellow vulture cameras, but I want him get the ticket because he arrogantly drove six inches from my back bumper until I moved to another lane, then immediately jumped on his accelerator and zoomed past me at up to 80mph. I want him to be done because he's an arrogant tosser, but he deserves to because he's stupid.

I've been thinking. You know those stupid, illegal and sometimes downright illegible number plates you sometimes see? Usually on ridiculous customised cars, or Range Rovers (again) with blacked-out windows (also illegal). They are owned by people who, when at school, did their ties up in a stupid way, or wore black trainers instead of black shoes because they thought they could get away with it, they could buck the system, be individual. But a uniform is a uniform and society needs to conform to its uniform codes, whether that's school uniform, army uniform, some sort of workplace uniform or a car number plate uniform.

Having said all that, I have nothing against 'personal plates' in the sense of people legally transferring historical number plates. The history of British number plates is fascinating, and I have included a link to an article which goes some way to exploring it, although sadly it doesn't touch on the Northern Ireland or Isle of Man systems. When I lived up in Buckinghamshire a chap in the next village had 'R1' on a succession of expensive cars, including (if I recall) an Aston Martin, a Jaguar and - in the days when I still liked them - a Range Rover. Chris Evans famously had CHR1S, Paul "not a lot" Daniels had MAG1C, and the Spanish Ambassador had, and may still have for all I know, SPA1N. I myself once saw DAN15H, and one day, when I'm very, very rich, I shall buy HAM15H. As an aside... possibly the cleverest number plate for the owner of a photographic mini-lab (and possibly also only comprehensible to someone in that trade)... C41NEG - another one I've seen in real life. Actually, E6POS would be a good one too.

18 days to go.
SPECS average speed cameras
links: history of british number plates   
Thu 07 June 2007
Capital
Contact lens appointment followed by trip into London to a trade exhibition.

Afterwards with the unusual situation of time on my hands for the rest of the day, I took the tube to Charing Cross, and spent a couple of hours in the National Portrait Gallery, mainly looking at twentieth century stuff. Nick Danziger's black-and-white behind-the-scenes photographs of Tony Blair at Downing Street and Camp David in the build-up to the invasion of Iraq were pretty spectacular, although hard to find.

I wandered from Trafalgar Square down Whitehall to Parliament Square, then into St James's Park where I sat and watched the world go past, and read a little. Then asked a policeman at the back of Horse Guards why exactly there were so many of his ilk about, putting up barriers, running around with sniffer dogs, installing CCTV and generally being A Bit Menacing (something to do with a rehearsal for some martial music event at the weekend). I then made my way under Admiralty Arch (Horse Guards was closed) back to a tourist-infested Trafalgar Square, where I found a corner to sit and read until Steve turned up.

We went for a drink at a pub he knows in Leicester Square, then found an Asian restaurant nearby, and had a very pleasant meal before coming home. It's nice to spend the day in London once in a while.

24 days to go.
Lord Nelson on his column
links: national portrait gallery | the delhi brasserie   
Wed 06 June 2007
Beware the borrowed neutral, apparently
Erm... The first couple of modules passed in a bit of a haze this morning. If you understand anything at all about root mean squares, please tell me.

25 days to go.
Tue 05 June 2007
I equals V over R
I did brave a shortcut this morning, and it worked out ok.

The course I'm on is to teach me some electrical basics. But I've had to dredge my memory for school algebra, of which rather a lot is required. The tutors are good, and there's a coffee break so an escape out into the sunshine every couple of hours, which is helpful. We were given homework, which I started at the end of the classes but got very stuck, so the plan is to finish that back at my hotel.

I've made friends with another pair of delegates down from Bradford. They've kindly invited me out for a meal with them this evening, so that'll be nice.

I had a drink - well ok, a couple of drinks - with one of the guys, Stephen, back at the hotel, and then we were joined by Immy. They had picked up a flyer the night before for an Asian restaurant nearby, so we went there. I have to say that I rather enjoyed my meal, but they didn't. I suppose that they have been spoiled by the quality of Asian food in Bradford. Anyway, after that we went across the road to a sports bar (not really my thing, but apparently there was a motorcycle in the window...) and had several more drinks. Immy doesn't drink actually, so he was on Cokes. We covered politics, the monarchy, and religion fairly comprehensively, and I'm sure we would have got on to sex or the environment had we not noticed that it was already after midnight. We had another, final, drink back at the hotel.

I'm afraid the homework didn't get finished.

26 days to go.
links: electrical basics   
Mon 04 June 2007
Venetian
I'm in Birmingham tonight ready for the start of a two-day course tomorrow. Having checked in to the hotel, I decide to go for a wander to look for the venue so that in my bleariness tomorrow I stand a chance of finding it. The map shows it as essentially round a largish block, which indeed it is. But on my way round I notice that there are probably ways across the centre of the block - short cuts in other words. So I head back to the hotel along the maze of canal towpaths and across the bridges, and end up taking a pretty indirect route probably twice as long as the roads around. So I know what I'll do in the morning...

27 days to go.
Birmingham canals
Sun 03 June 2007
80th part 2
An unsurprising hangover awaited me this morning. Duncan and Steve and I followed Roxana to her church at Bulford, so that I could plug in and test the new CD player we obtained for her, and for Duncan to get to see where she works. And then we went and bought an indoor digital ariel from Comet back in Salisbury.

We went round to Mum and Dads to install the ariel, but found it made no difference to the reception, so we took it back to Comet. Steve shopped in Waitrose and we drove home.

28 days to go.
Sat 02 June 2007
80th part 1
This morning we set off for Salisbury with the Special Present, and delivered it to Mum and Dad. There was only really time for them to unwrap it and go "cor!" a bit before we had to all go round the corner to Milford Hall, and a luncheon for about twenty people, preceded by and followed by drinks in the sunshine. It was Mum's eightieth at the end of April, and it will be Dad's at the end of June, so we decided to celebrate sometime in the middle.

Then I popped back to Kings Road to set up the present. It took a bit of setting up, because it's a brand new widescreen LCD TV with built in digital Freeview. And unfortunately it doesn't seem to want to pick up ITV1 or Channel 4, so we are going to buy another ariel tomorrow.

Some of my siblings, and Steve, had set off for the Haunch straight from the meal, and as soon as I could I joined them. It was so wonderful to see (a rather hairy) Duncan again, and he and Ian and I decided to go for a wander to Harnham after the others had headed home. We got to the Close and marvelled at the Cathedral, and Ian took some photographs, but headed to one of Duncan's favourite haunts instead of to Harnham. And we were so busy setting the world to rights that it was very late indeed by the time we got back to Roxana's. The household was asleep, but the cheese was still spread out on the table, so we tucked in as quietly as we could. Duncan decided it was too late to return to his so we all crashed out around the place.

29 days to go.
Fri 01 June 2007
I sympathise with His Royal Highness
A few years ago there was a story that Prince Charles had a flunky to squeeze the royal toothpaste onto the royal toothbrush. Today, for the second time in a row, with the tube almost run out, I have tried to squeeze with one hand while holding the brush with the other, which resulted, again for the second day in a row, in the toothpaste going down the plughole. So maybe HRH had a point.

30 days to go.
toothpaste
Thu 31 May 2007
On the road again
I thought today I'd share with you some of the daily trials and tribulations of my life on the road.

On the way out of Croydon I pass yet another building site where a perfectly fine Victorian detached house has been demolished, and the ground is being levelled, almost certainly to make way for a block of flats, or 'select apartments' as I'm sure they will be marketed.

At the garage where I stop to fill up, a pair of sales reps sit in their car at the pump, having filled up and paid, finishing off their pasties and chatting merrily away, completely ignoring the queue of other drivers behind them waiting to use the pump. I would call them selfish, but that would imply a wilful action, whereas these guys were just plainly ignorant, like so many others today, with no knowledge of, or engagement with, the world around them, either at the micro scale (such as at the petrol pump) or the macro (in terms of politics or the environment, for example); so much of this world is so self-centred.

An impatient driver is behind me at the lights. There are two lanes, and as the lights change the other lane starts off a little quicker, so he changes into that lane. Then the car in front of him indicates to turn right, and traffic slows, so he zips back into my lane, although now he's a couple of cars back. Just as the car in the other lane completes its right turn, and traffic starts moving faster, the car in front of me indicates left and slows, and I watch as the impatient driver switches lanes yet again at exactly the same time as the guy in front of me turns off and our lane surges ahead. The plonker should have stayed behind me, because he's now ten or so cars behind in the other lane.

At precisely 17:51:47, on a bleak stretch of the the M6 just north of Sandbach Services, my car goes through 150,000 miles. That's what the counted-down miles have been all about, by the way.

Much later on my return homeward, on a completely clear night, as I approach the A14 turn off the A1(M) southbound, I pass a foreign car with its rear and front foglights on full. Then I discover four lanes are coned down to one, with traffic queuing back over half a mile to get past the constriction. Then I travel for a good three miles past the coned-off lanes, containing not a single workman or service vehicle.

I stop on the M11 at the Welcome Break Birchanger Services*, and I'm just recording a moan into my tape recorder about the state of the toilets, and the disgusting mess the Coffee Nation coffee machines are in, when yesterday's point is perfectly made as I arrive at a direction sign so complex and confusing I have to stop to read through it to discover which is the exit.

I'm on the M25 in Essex when I drive past an old, "Taxi"-era, New York yellow cab with the black and white stripes on. As I approached it (it was driving pretty slowly) it was one of those, "Is it? No it can't be. Yes it is!" moments.

Then as soon as I'm over the QEII bridge, all southbound M25 traffic is diverted off into a complete mess, and I'm stuck for over half an hour. Bear in mind that this is around 1am. Three lanes of motorway traffic are squeezed up a slip road to a roundabout with traffic lights favouring the traffic on the roundabout... except there isn't any. At the top of the slip road traffic has to get into one of three narrow lanes depending on its destination, indicated only by a single temporary sign right at the junction. So petrol tankers, trucks and cars are all trying to criss-cross each other to get to the right place. There's a palpable feeling of anger hanging in the air. Oh, and no workmen anywhere nearby, of course.

These are just some of the 'adventures' which are my daily life on the highways and byways of the United Kingdom.

*I stopped to get something to eat, and a coffee. I bought a Ginsters pasty, and then when I got home I compared the nutritional information against the frozen ready meal I would have eaten if I hadn't got so hungry on the motorway:
  227g pasty 400g sweet & sour chicken & rice
Energy 580 kCal 341 kCal
Protein 14 g 25.1 g
Carbohydrates 49 g 58.4 g
__(of which sugars) 3 g 17.6 g
Fat 35.1 g 0.8 g
__(of which saturated) 17.1 g 0.4 g
Fibre 4.3 g 4.3 g
Sodium 1.15 g 0.49 g
150,000 miles

a yellow cab

a pasty
links: 150,000 miles   
Wed 30 May 2007
Just keep quiet
Today's moan is about the bloody road signs within Welcome Break service areas. I'll describe them: a large white board, with the various destinations within the complex listed in dark type on the left, e.g. 'cars', 'exit', 'fuel' and so on; then on the right, in line with each of those, is a light green arrow, some pointing up for straight on, some left, some right. The problems are firstly the amount of white space between the word in the list on the left, and the corresponding arrow on the right. And secondly, the size and shape of the arrows, which are essentially square and very hard to quickly work out which way they are pointing (which is rather the purpose of an arrow). I'm sure on paper the sign looked great to its designer; but out in the real world, as you are driving round an unfamiliar site, avoiding other cars, potholes, peering round carelessly parked lorries, in the dark and the rain, the signs put up to help you find what you want should be absolutely clear and unambiguous. Welcome Break's are not. Today at one such service area, trying to get to the garage, I ended up having to drive across a pavement and up a lane the wrong way, or I would have been deposited back on the motorway without fuel.

Am I the only one who thinks there's just a bit too much openness and debate in the area of security matters? I've mentioned before what I think about the deployment of Prince Harry to Iraq, or rather the way in which it was publicised. Now I'd like to say the same thing about this business of college lecturers being asked to 'spy' on their students. Of course they are not; as with all responsible citizens, they are being gently asked to do what we should all be doing anyway, to keep an eye out for suspicious, extreme or dangerous behaviour, if you like an extension of the 'look out for abandoned bags on the Tube' notion. But if the whole thing had been handled sensitively and discreetly (a key concept that - discretion), and not blasted out publicly, there wouldn't be a fuss, and there wouldn't have been a vote from the union not to comply with this order, as they see it, from the government. If security measures are carried out quietly, in the background, without fuss or publicity, they will be far more effective, and we will all be far safer.

208 to go.
Tue 29 May 2007
Brrrr
It seems to be getting cooler again - needed the heating on in the car today. Bit of a washout of a weekend, wasn't it?

593 to go.
Sat 26 May 2007
Oh what a circus, oh what a show
We walked into Croydon just after lunchtime, passing - as you do - the unconscious drunk sprawled on the floor next to his tin-toting mates on a bench, and into a certain air of menace, and a darkening sky. We were looking for the Special Present for Mum and Dad's joint birthday celebration next weekend. We got it by the way - all will be revealed in time...

While in town we popped in to the Clocktower and watched a fascinating little show called - rather confusingly - the 'Sharmanka Travelling Circus'. Not a circus at all, but a collection of bizarre electro-mechanical sculptures which Mr W Heath Robinson would have been proud to have constructed. Around twenty of us, of all ages, slowly walked around the room as each of about a dozen increasingly complex collections of old scrap, Meccano, sewing machines, carvings and bells - lots of bells - sprang to life under subtle but illuminating (please excuse the pun) lighting. Very hard to describe, but please catch the show if comes to where you are.

This evening Steve declared tonight's episode of Doctor Who the best yet; and I voted to keep Ben in Any Dream Will Do - despite feeling manipulated.

Then I put The Rolling Stones' Paint It Black on the stereo, followed by The Doors' The End. Try that after a couple of very, very dry Martinis...
The Doctor
links: sharmanka travelling circus   
Fri 25 May 2007
926 to go
926 to go.
Thu 24 May 2007
Fore!
When I got back to my hotel room late last night I discovered that I had forgotten to bring the power supply to my laptop. The battery was nearly flat anyway, so having got back home very late tonight I have been working frantically to send some last minute e-mails and other stuff to my boss who goes on holiday tomorrow, all of which I had meant to work on while staying away.

The other day m'colleague showed me that on our new(ish) work mobile phones, there is a rather good golf game. I had no idea. Way, way back, sometime around 1986 or '87, my boss at the time, Graham, was one of the first people I knew with a PC. In the days before the internet, you dialled up to things called 'bulletin boards', sort of like forums. And you played games, the best one of which was a golf game, and which amazed me at the time. And I think the one on the mobile is - while very similar - better than the one on that original PC was. That's progress, I guess.

Stopping, very late, at a motorway service station on the way home, I bought a cup of my favourite coffee from the Coffee Nation machine, and then searched the shop in vain for my craving of the hour, continental chocolate biscuits, such as Choco Leibniz, or even some continental chocolate like Ritter Sport. But to no avail: they seem to have stopped stocking them. Shame on them! So I ended up with a bar of dark chocolate, which was more than I wanted; having eaten a few squares, it's now sitting in my glove-box shouting, "Eat me!"

1339 to go.
Bahlsen Choco Leibniz

Ritter Sport
links: coffee nation   
Wed 23 May 2007
Roses no more
Ha ha! Steve called me today to tell me that the little girl from another flat in the block is outside pulling all the petals off the roses I photographed yesterday. Good job I recorded them then!

One hundred things to do before you die number ninety-four: order and pay for a new Ferrari Scaglietti, and then fly to Maranello and pick it up from the factory and drive it home; alternatively, order a Porsche 911, fly to Stuttgart and drive it home.
Ferrari 612 Scaglietti

Porsche 911 Turbo
Tue 22 May 2007
Hot
Wow, it's warm today, and just outside the window where I'm typing are growing two beautiful red roses.

Had another e-mail today from Vic about our imminent weekend back at Prior. Unsure whether to drive down, thus providing weekend transport up the (steep) hill from Bath to school on the Sunday, and for a Sunday pub lunch; or if I might be better off letting the train take the strain, which is considerably cheaper, and will allow me to mellow out on the Sunday - possibly the best way to enjoy the cricket. Decision to be made.
roses in the garden
Sat 19 May 2007
"Burn with me"
Popped into town today to pick up the replacement for the pair of jeans I bought from Next a couple of weeks ago, and which started to fall to pieces as soon as I wore them...

And this afternoon I'm feeling pretty chilled, drinking a martini and listening to gaydarradio.

Any Dream Will Do has now reached such a high standard. I'm really trying each week to vote on merit only, and so this week it was for Lee, who made my spine tingle with his version of Paint It Black. And I was sorry to see Daniel go. I predict Ben or Lee will win, and in fact I hope it's Ben.

Hey wasn't Doctor Who edge of the seat stuff tonight?

Parky was very camp tonight: George Michael (for whom I have a great deal of admiration, but god doesn't he bang on about himself?), the superlative Stephen Fry, and the outrageous Joan Rivers, who astonishes me with her continued ability to speak, considering how taught the skin on her face is now.
Parkinson, Fry, Michael, Rivers
links: gaydarradio   
Fri 18 May 2007
The Chain*
Driving down the M3 this afternoon I passed two enormous Team McLaren lorries, probably taking Fernando's and Lewis's cars to Monaco from the team's base in Woking.

And later I was chatting to a chap who has a brand new red Golf GTi. I was remembering when I had my GTi, way back... ooh can't remember exactly, but end of eighties/beginning of nineties. Wow, what a car! Like sh*t off a shiny shovel, as I used to boast at the time. I had such fun in that car. You just had to gently press down on the accelerator, and there was a roar... and she just took off. By all accounts, the '07 GTi has those same qualities in abundance. Mine - which was an original 1.6 litre on an old 'V' reg - took Ian and me to Berlin, Leipzig, Colditz and Dresden in 1990, as well as providing fun on the way to work for several years. I drive a Golf today, but oh boy it ain't the same at all.

*Fleetwood Mac's 1976 song from the album "Rumours", part of which which was used by the BBC to introduce their Grand Prix coverage for many years. Seems appropriate to today's subjects.
2007 Golf GTi

Hamish's Golf GTi in 1990
links: mclaren | the chain   
Thu 17 May 2007
Round and round
Tonight I found myself driving through Milton Keynes. Now, this was the place I learned to drive. And it is full of roundabouts, so I'm pretty much OK when it comes to driving around them. So why oh why do so many of them seem to have sprouted traffic lights? MK prided itself on having just eight - count 'em baby - eight sets of traffic lights in the entire city. And none of them were on roundabouts, which by their very design do not need traffic lights to maintain traffic flow. So I am mystified.

Here's an exercise: if you google for images of roundabouts (which I initially did to find the image for today's entry), you will discover that the Americans have themselves only just discovered... roundabouts. It's totally bizarre, like something out of the nineteen-sixties in Britain. Instructions and detailed diagrams to help our poor Atlantic cousins to negotiate this strange new urban obstacle.

And not a set of traffic lights in sight.
Milton Keynes
links: roundabout images   
Wed 16 May 2007
A hapless prince
Poor Prince Harry. He joins the Army, goes through the hell of training, passes out to huge applause, is assured he can go on post with the men he is leading, then has the rug pulled from under him at the last minute, and has to face the fact that his status has got in the way of his job.

But the Army should have seen this coming. What on earth were they doing in the first place releasing details of when and where he might be deployed? The man is in Her Majesty's Armed Forces, and his operational details should - as with all individual serving servicemen and -women - be kept strictly private. Then no-one need have known where he was going and what he was doing, and he couldn't have been specially targeted. I just don't understand it.

What with that nonsense over the Navy personnel being allowed to sell their stories recently, the services really need to get to grips with how the media work in Britain in the twenty-first century. It's not an edifying subject, admittedly, but the lack of understanding of it seems to be causing some embarrassment. And worse than egg on face and wounded pride could come of it.
Prince Harry
Mon 14 May 2007
Some time later
I took a day off work today and caught the train into London where I met Steve out of work (this time without surprising him). The two of us, and Matt, went for a couple of drinks in Leicester Square, then had a meal in Chinatown, before going in to watch '28 Weeks Later'.

My opinion: almost as good as '28 Days Later', with some good effects, but this time around I really didn't care very much about the characters. I cared about the story, I believed what was happening, but I just couldn't empathise; or I found myself with conflicting feelings for them. There was also a little bit too much current-state-of-the-world subtext for my liking.

But if you enjoyed the first film, you should see this one.
a scene from '28 Weeks Later'
links: 28 weeks later   
Sun 13 May 2007
Please don't shout
My head hurt this morning - can't think why. I mean, I only drank vodka last night; in a Martini and then one or two, or three, or four, vodka & Cokes, as the Eurovision car crash developed in slow motion in front of us.

The consensus, the morning after the event, is that Scooch were crap. So why didn't all those newspapers say that ahead of time? It's easy to be wise in hindsight. I knew we'd do poorly before the thing began, what with our unpopularity in the rest of Europe, and the bloc-voting nonsense that goes on now. Scooch were ok, I think, and the song was exactly right for Eurovision: camp, kitsch, funny, pop-y, piss-taking. All right, the choreography could have been more polished, but nineteen points wasn't a fair reflection of its merits. The old jury system (before phone votes) would have rewarded it properly.

Have you been watching Victoria Wood's series, 'Victoria's Empire'? She has a way of getting a complex subject over very slickly. And as we were watching a recording of the second episode this morning, and she was explaining the story of how slaves were transported from Ghana, in west Africa, to the Jamaica sugar plantations, I began to realise that as twenty-first century Europeans, whilst we cannot feel guilt for the behaviour of our British ancestors, we do have a responsibility to learn about what happened, and to try and understand how we have arrived at this point in history from that point in history; how the luxuries and standard of living we take for granted today is as an indirect result of that awful period in our past. History is a phenomenally important subject, and a more than passing interest in it is fantastically important in the making of a rounded, grown-up character.

I told you to watch Lewis Hamilton, didn't I? Now he's leading the Formula One world championships.
Sat 12 April 2007
Thanks very much Tony
It's all your fault we came second to last. Our song wasn't that bad, was it? No, of course it wasn't, but the war did it for us, so the only countries to vote for the UK were Ireland, and Malta, to whom we gave the George Cross during WW2, so I suppose it's a fair exchange. Well then, it's Dublin or Valetta for our summer holidays this year. The Serbian Lesbians who won were OK I guess, although Steve and I voted for Spain (the fit lads in tight t-shirts may have swayed us); the Ukrainian Bacofoil Boys were a deserving second. Thank you Terry for your fab commentary, as ever, and thanks to Finnish Television for a great production.

Earlier today...

We went into town so I could take back to Next the jeans I bought last weekend. They didn't have my size in stock, so I've had to order them, which is a pain.

Even earlier today...

I made a few updates (stylistic and factual) to the Wikipedia entry for my alma mater. Vic - who you'll recall I met up with again last 12th January - has suggested we go back to Prior for the Old Boys' cricket match in June, and coincidentally the latest Gossip Bowl turned up in the post this morning, so the old place has been on my mind.

Whilst idly surfing, I looked up the detail of the exemptions to the smoking ban, which you'll realise is only fifty days away now. Contrary to popular belief, and to my surprise, I discovered that workmen and servants in your own home (we have lots of those... yeah right!) aren't covered, and there will, or may, still be such a thing as hotel smoking bedrooms; and there can still be smoking rooms on offshore oil rigs, as well as prisons, care homes, and, for the really persistent smokers among us, hospices. But my company car is technically covered by the ban. Bugger.
Serbia's Marija Serifovic

Spain's D'Nash

Ukraine's Verka Serduchka
links: prior park   
Thu 10 May 2007
Scanning
After a day in the office I travelled last night to Salisbury. A couple of pints in the Haunch with Roxana was followed by pizza and baked beans (yes I know, a student dinner, but it was just what the doctor ordered).

So today I went round to Mum and Dad's, to continue the scanning of old family photographs. I don't know how, but they've discovered what seemed like hundreds more since last time, so I spent around eight hours scanning and making notes, and this time not just Dad's side, but Mum's as well. Her uncle Doug, who emigrated to Rhodesia, was a good looking lad - and remained a bachelor...

I'll have to go back down again, though, to finish the pile, another day.
my lovely Mum, circa 1944

me, just 12 months old!
Sun 06 May 2007
Moving in
Odd and occasional noises from upstairs lead us to think someone has moved in. But it cannot - cannot - be worse than the last lot.

And M. Sarkozy is moving into the Elysée Palace, so prepare for a nasty right-winger; there'll be trouble, mark my words.

More cocktails tonight. Martinis, mainly.
links: martini   
Sat 05 May 2007
In the pink
Well, I made a decision about the hair. It had to be my decision in the end. Some people like it short, some people like it long, but I've got to live with it. Anyway, it'll grow back...

Which Joseph do you want to win? I keep voting for Keith. He has an amazing voice, yes he is very cute, but the more I watch him the more I'm starting to believe he could be a West End star.

Tonight we had Pink W***ers. These are cocktails, invented by Matt, and are truly delicious. So-named, of course, because they're pink, and they get you w***ered...
the lovely Keith

before the haircut

after the haircut

a pink w***er
links: joseph   
Fri 04 May 2007
Funny little car
How would you feel if your boss said to you, "Your brand new company car is outside. Go and have a look." And that's what you found? But maybe I wouldn't have any sympathy, because you're an estate agent.

And talking about cars... blacked-out pimp-mobile windows look silly enough on a Volvo anyway, but when that Volvo is towing a horsebox and that horsebox has a sign on the back that says 'Caution: Horses' and someone has crossed out the word 'horses' and written in 'donkey', it just looks ridiculous. As seen today on the motorway.

I've invented a new game to play in the car on long boring journeys at night. it's called 'KYAF' and you play it with a tube or bag of Opal Fruits - sorry Starburst. Unwrap one in the dark and pop it in your mouth and try and guess the colour, then when you think you've got it, check against the wrapper. What does KYAF mean...? Know Your Artificial Flavours. Oh and if you want to challenge me, I warn you I'm quite good.
funny little car
Thu 03 May 2007
No crossing
Driving slowly down the M11 this afternoon, in no particular hurry, it occurred to me that it might be a good idea to call in at Duxford to pick up the tickets for the Spitfire Day in August Ian and I are going to. But, helpful though he was, the chap at the counter could only offer to call the ticket line number for me - which obviously I can do from home - rather than sell me the tickets himself. Odd.

Slightly later, avoiding foul-ups further down the M11, I explored the back lanes of Cambridge and Essex as I travelled south, and came across a beautiful village, complete with cricket green and several pubs; somewhere to spend a lazy summer Sunday afternoon. I won't say exactly where it is in case everyone descends - well now I'm bigging-up my readership stats! - but anyway it isn't too far from Cambridge, so I will suggest it to relevant people.

Avoiding another traffic problem after crossing the QEII bridge over the Thames at Dartford, I took a direct route through the Kent conurbations, and suddenly found myself at a manual level crossing with the gates closed. I happened to be on the phone so happily waited for a couple of minutes anyway; but once I'd finished the call I was anxious to get across the line. But despite a notice on the gate informing that the crossing was 'open' daily from 0615 until 2230, there was no sign of anyone who might be likely to open the crossing anytime soon. So after a couple of minutes I got out of the car and approached what I thought was the ticket kiosk of the open station. I found myself speaking to some sort of railway official, despite the fact that he was wearing a sleeveless t-shirt and jeans (he was also very, very good-looking, but that is neither here nor there). I asked him when the crossing was due to open. He laughed and said, "You're having a laugh ain't-yer? At this time of day?" He gestured into the room he'd come out of. "All those red lights would 'ave to go out, then I'd 'ave to call Ashford for permission. Probably about seven pm." I looked surprised. "You'll 'ave to go around the by-pass," he suggested. "It's not far. Some sat-navs seem to direct people down this way." "Mine included. But anyway, the sign on the gate says the crossing's open all day," I ventured, waving vaguely at the gate. But he'd disappeared. So I got back in the car, performed an inelegant three-point turn, and headed off in search of the by-pass.
links: spitfire day   
Wed 02 May 2007
Double take
Listening to the daily vnunet.com podcast this evening, it struck me as rather amusing to hear a German discussing something called the Microsoft One Care System - just try saying that in a German accident, and you'll realise why I had to rewind and listen a couple of times before realising this wasn't actually some kind of wind-up.
links: vnunet.com   
Sat 28 April 2007
Stayed home
Didn't go to Salisbury today. I got up very late due to a late return from work in the early hours, which didn't help, and then I didn't feel very well. Steve, though, went as planned to Matt's for the weekend. I had a relaxing day.
Tue 24 April 2007
All change
Went for a run this morning, for the first time in a while; I was going every other day, but that seems to have slipped... I was showing improving times each run, but I knew I wasn't going to be able to keep up that up - I was just knackering myself without any real benefit. So I decided that a longer, slower run might be more beneficial, so that's what I did today. In fact it was more of a jog, spending more time actually running over the same distance ought to burn more fat, I figure. Mind you, my calves are really hurting this evening, and my left knee was a bit painful when I was actually running so I need to be cautious I think. But no pain no gain they say.

(In theory at least) on alternate days I'm running, and doing sets of pushups and crunches (3x15 sets of each); as of today I can't do another pushup, and with the crunches I'm really pulling myself up just by my abdominals, so I'm doing it right, I think. But what's interesting, and funny really, is that although I can feel my abs in the form of a 6-pack, they're underneath the fat which is still stubbornly clinging to my tummy. My weight is pretty consistent now, after the exercising and sensible eating, yo-yoing around a fixed point of around 11st/154lbs/70kg. What I really want is a rowing machine, which very successfully mixes a cardio with a workout of all the major muscle groups; but I have nowhere to put one, and they don't collapse easily. When we've got a house...

My smoking is down to a maximum of five a day (except very occasionally), often in fact just three or four, about which I am really pleased. And with the eating, exercise and smoking, I'm beginning to see the same benefits as the last time I did this (about five years ago, when I even joined a gym) in that picking things up, carrying heavy things, an even some of the work I do which often involves twisting in awkward spaces, is all much easier, and if I need to run, or climb stairs, I can really notice that my general level of fitness is higher. My alertness levels are better, and I'm sleeping better too.

I'm sorry, again, for slow blog updates. Determined to record some podcasts soon. Watch this space.
Sun 22 April 2007
Bom Chicka Wah Wah
We were late to Cambridge yesterday, in part because I didn't get home from work until dawn. We went straight to Ian's, then walked together to Chris and Jane's, where Bev, getting himself ready, sprayed so much Lynx that our eyes watered. Walking from there altogether to the Clarendon Arms, trying to keep upwind of him, was entertaining. A St George's day meal had been arranged, and Barry (from the Clarrie) had kept the menu under wraps, perhaps not a wise decision. We started with soup, which was followed by a small portion of delicious fish and chips. Most people assumed this was simply a sensibly-sized main course, perhaps to be followed by a traditional English pudding. But no... after the fish, came enormous platters of roast beef, yorkshires, roast potatoes and veg. And there was cheese to follow. You cannot pace yourself if you don't know what's coming, and Barry seemed unjustifiably upset when food was - inevitably - left. And poor Jane couldn't eat two of the courses. I think - I hope - lessons were learned. Afterwards some of the extended party went back to Chris and Jane's for the traditional silliness of trying things from unmarked bottles. I've been there and done that, and it doesn't have quite the appeal it once did.

On Sunday we variously assembled again at a pub on the river, and had a quiet drink and a little to eat. Jane very bravely made it down, a little later than the rest of us. Perhaps due to her enforced starvation the night before - or perhaps I am just being over-charitable - she was rather ill this morning, as the drink had disagreed with her, or rather with the toast she ate first thing.
Thu 19 April 2007
Two-and-a-half million quid
Cutting across country today on an old route I used to use many years ago I found myself passing close to the village of Cheddington in Buckinghamshire, and remembered that up on the railway embankment (which is close to the road at that point) is where the Great Train Robbery happened in 1963, when the gang manually changed the signal and stopped a mail train, clubbed the driver over the head (the only actual violence done) and got away with £2.3 million in used bank notes. One of the gang was 'Buster' Edwards, played by Phil Collins in the film, and another was of course Ronnie Biggs who later fled to Brazil after escaping from Wandsworth. I have a vague memory from the time the film came out (1988 I believe) of a record playing on the radio, with a cockney-style voice-over by Laurence Olivier, but I can't find any trace on the interweb.
links: great train robbery   
Wed 18 April 2007
VW by MS?
The multi-function display in my Golf stopped working today. The only way I found to get it back on was to stop the car, switch the engine off, take the key out of the ignition, then put the key back in and start the engine again. Hmmm, now if only Microsoft made Volkswagens...
Tue 17 April 2007
Vicarious celebrity sighting
Not me, but Steve has just seen Matt Damon in Waterloo Station. That's all the excuse I need to stick a couple of gratuitous pictures of him here!

Last evening Croydon came to a standstill as a crane on a building site nearby looked likely to drop its load after a chain broke. Didn't affect me, but it did thousands of others, including Steve trying to get home from work.
Matt Damon

Matt Damon
links: crane emergency   
Sun 15 April 2007
Why don't I ever learn?
On another gorgeous summer's day (in April? What's going on?) into town, and a futile trip to seek to get my watch battery changed in H Samuel, where I was completely blanked by four members of staff who seem to have been very highly trained in Advanced Customer Avoidance. So instead I went where I should have gone first-off, to the little man in Allders' Mall, who performed the required task efficiently and politely.

I really, really cannot make my mind up whether to keep this long hair. Several people have told me they approve of it, and have suggested they much prefer it to my more usual skinhead look. Others have just expressed shock and surprise that I've grown it. I'm finding it difficult to manage (it's very fine, and left to itself sticks out at odd angles on a whim), and can only control it with larger and larger quantities of gel. However, I do quite like the fact that it's almost growing inside my shirt collar. Perhaps I should get the sides shaved very short, the fringe eliminated, the top thinned drastically, but the neck length maintained? How would that look?

I told you to watch Lewis Hamilton, didn't I? Third, second, second, in his first three Grand Prix. Impressive.
Sat 14 April 2007
Feels like summer
A very pleasant afternoon spent in Bishop's Stortford (familiar as the one-time, or rather two-times, home of Woody and Steve) with Matt and Rhona, sundry parents, step-parents and children, in a sunny garden.
Wed 11 April 2007
We'll fight them on the beaches
I notice on the M25 today that we seem to have been invaded by the Dutch Army. Convoys of green trucks. Possibly the first time since William of Orange in 1688? I think it's OK as they seem to exclusively drive Land Rovers and Bedford 4-tonners.
Tue 10 April 2007
Nice view
As I was on my way to work elsewhere in Wiltshire it made sense to call in to see Mum in hospital this afternoon. I have to say that it is slightly shocking to see one's parent in hospital - the first time I have experienced this. How is she? Weak, but perky. She has a great view from the window by her bed across fields, and even of the Cathedral spire, from what I think of as Odstock (now I believe termed Salisbury District Hospital), where I myself was born. Roxana took me, and Dad, and we met Alison there. After an hour or so, you sort of run out of things to say. And anyway I had to go to work. But I am reassured she is being looked after.
Mon 09 April 2007
Get well soon
Yesterday's plans went a little awry after Steve bent down to pick something off the floor, and his back went into spasm. The rest of the day was spent in hobbling, trying to get comfortable, and periods of agony. He didn't sleep much last night. Our plan today was to go to the Secret Nuclear Bunker in Essex, but that will have to wait for another occasion.

Then in the evening we had a phone call from Salisbury - Mum rushed into hospital after severe asthma attack. Roxana phoned this morning. She had followed the ambulance, and been with Mum through the admission and so on. It had taken quite a while to stabilise her apparently. I'm going to see her in hospital tomorrow, and I'll report back here tomorrow evening.
Sun 08 April 2007
5:32 ... 5:26 ... 5:14
I've started running again, every other day. Just round the block on a short circuit to start with. But my times are improving, which is encouraging.

Happy Easter! We had a quiet Friday in, yesterday we spent in town (getting frustrated in shops, as usual), today we're going to sort of get into spring cleaning mode, and tomorrow... well tomorrow's a Secret.
Thu 05 April 2007
Buff bois
Second sign of spring (see 8th March entry below). OK, not in a Transit, but two very fit lads, late teens or early twenties, walking down a residential street in Croydon, topless. Possibly even straight. It's going to be a long, hot summer.
Thu 29 March 2007
I like driving in my car (it's not quite a Jaguar)
For the second time in a week I drove over four hundred miles yesterday. I've driven over three hundred miles on two other days as well.
Wed 28 March 2007
Bollocks shit bugger
It's OK, I heard all three words on BBC R4 in the 6.30 comedy slot this evening.
Tue 27 March 2007
And in the red corner
For the second time in two days I've passed a road sign consisting of an exclamation mark with the words 'red squirrels' below it - yesterday as I came off the ferry on the Isle of Wight, and today in Cumbria. These are about the last outposts though, I believe.
Wed 21 March 2007
HRH
Do you, like me, find it brings you up short if you hear an American voice on radio or TV using words like petrol, bonnet, nappy, or autumn (to think of a few examples)? I think it's quite patronising because it sort of assumes we're too stooopid over here to understand if instead they say gas, hood, diaper and fall.

Tonight once again the moon is amazing - more than a sliver now (perhaps a quarter?) but I can still see the rest of it so clearly. There is a very bright planet next to it; not Mars I think because it's not red enough, and not Venus either, because isn't that known as the morning star and evening star (although there is still light in the sky)? Is it Jupiter? Or Saturn? It's so bright, as bright as the moon itself. When we move to a house away from London I'm getting a telescope and a big book on astronomy. Oh, and I saw two shooting stars tonight as well.

As I had an amount of time to kill on a longish drive tonight, I took a diversion passing through Gayhurst, the edge of Tyringham, and on into Newport Pagnell. The fish and chip shop seemed to have the same bloke running it - after how many years? And I was interested to see if Aston Martin still had a presence there despite its move to Gaydon a while ago. The buildings are indeed still there, although the insignia seems downgraded. Perhaps just servicing now? Back in 1985 or '86, not long after I'd started working in the photographic trade, I took a day off to stand and watch Prince Charles come to tour the factory, and snatched a few shots. He drove himself, and his car was serviced and parked back outside ready for him. Apparently he was presented with a working miniature Aston Martin for Prince William, who would have been three or four then.
Prince Charles visits Aston Martin in 1985. Picture by haymee

Prince Charles's Aston Martin Vantage at Newport Pagnell in 1985. Picture by haymee
Tue 20 March 2007
Earthlight
Tonight, just a tiny sliver of moon at the bottom, but you could so clearly see the rest of the disc - is this light from earth, reflected, like in the eclipse recently?
Mon 19 March 2007
Vroom
I've got another van at the moment in place of my car, which is in the garage yet again, sorting out ominous warning light, shaky steering, uneven braking, and borderline illegal tyres. This van's nice, though! It's one of those Vauxhall/Renault/Nissan clones (I think this ones a Vauxhall), and it drives very well, and doesn't smell at all. And you don't get out of it dirtier than when you got in. Drove all the way to York and back in it on Friday.
Vauxhall Vivaro
Sun 18 March 2007
Ill
Oh great, on top of feeling ill, having a headache, sneezing, stiff neck, cold sore and mouth ulcer, I've now got a nose bleed as well.
Sat 17 March 2007
Steamer
Unwell today, so let Steve off on his own to Bluewater, with a mission: buy a new steamer from John Lewis. Over the last... not very long... we have got through a succession of wonderful but cheap and very poorly-made Tefal steamers, which break. Well the badly-designed plastic separators break, and replacement parts cost more than a brand new steamer. So with some wedding vouchers, and a good deal anyway, we are now the proud owners of a rather fine Prestige Cook 'n' Steam.

I stayed home, drank lots of nourishing beer, and watched the rugby.
Thu 15 March 2007
Blinding show
Today is the tenth anniversary of the day I first met Steve. As he likes to relate, I popped round for a ... cup of coffee ... and kind of stayed. Actually, it's a touching tale of love at first site, and a strange mixture of exhilaration and anguish (at the time, I hasten to add). But that's a story for another day.

So I decided that I'd like to surprise Steve. With the help of his best mate and colleague Matt (thank you, Matt), I engineered for him to be at his office at 4.30 in the afternoon. Now Steve believed I was in Cardiff, so you may imagine his face when Matt got him downstairs for a cigarette, and he walked outside to find me on the pavement. With (almost impossible to obtain) tickets to watch Daniel Radcliffe and Richard Griffiths in Equus.

We wandered to Chinatown and had a meal, then on to Shaftesbury Avenue, to the Gielgud Theatre. What a powerful play, and fantastic performances by the whole cast (with the disappointing exception of Jenny Agutter). Quite an experience, and that young Harry Potter has quite a future ahead of him - if he wants it - on the stage. He had presence, a real sense of inhabiting the role of the anguished teenager accused of gouging the eyes out of six horses he is caring for; and Richard Griffiths is masterful as the analyst who seeks to understand why - an actor who is able to deliver sometimes complex lines and sentiments as if he has just thought of them.
Daniel Radcliffe in Equus (publicity still)
links: equus   
Wed 14 March 2007
Knocking it down
An odd experience this morning: turning up at my head office at half eight, finding myself one of loads of people all heading for the entrance together. I just don't do that! I can tell you it felt very odd being one of so many sheep. I know lots of people do this every day, but it was completely alien for me.

A particularly boring tri-monthly* meeting was my reason for being there, but parts of it were enlivened by being able to watch through a gap in the blinds the ongoing demolition of an office building opposite. It's been there all the time I've been working for this company, so it seems a bit weird seeing it being knocked down by giant diggers.

*This is one of those words with contradictory definitions: once every three months (which is what I mean here), or three times a month.
Mon 12 March 2007
Parlez-vous espanol?
Sometimes one hears something which just completely takes one by surprise. Apparently, the teaching of modern languages is to become compulsory in primary schools. What?!? You mean it isn't already? WTF is going on? No wonder Brits abroad are a laughing stock - people who think that SPEAKING-SLOWLY-AND-LOUDLY-IN-ENGLISH will get Johnny Foreigner to understand.

Some good news: Aston Martin has been sold by Ford, and so is back in essentially British hands once more. I have happy memories of watching brand new Astons, wearing only primer, being road-tested - as each one was - on the roads around Newport Pagnell.
DB5 at Newport Pagnell
links: aston martin   
Sun 11 March 2007
Two to watch
A couple of names to look out for in the future, because they are going to be big: David Strettle playing for England (rugby, of course), and Lewis Hamilton, just starting his Formula One career with McLaren.

Tried to help Clive start his car today, but couldn't.
David Strettle

Lewis Hamilton
Sat 10 March 2007
Regrets? I've had a few
Back in the autumn of 1987, in fact on the day of the huge storms, I went down to London for an interview at the BBC, for a position as a Trainee Local Radio Reporter. The train was a couple of hours late into London due to trees across the track and power lines down and that sort of thing. This was in the days before mobile phones for the masses, so I called them from Euston, and I remember that they were very grateful that I was there at all, and told me to get in a cab they would pay for and get straight to Langham Place. I think I was one of only a handful of candidates who got there that day. Sadly I didn't get the job, despite my heroic journey, despite the tape recording of the interview with Peter Veitch (sometime member of The Penguin Café Orchestra who lived near me at the time) which I had conducted as part of the application process, and despite the Burberry raincoat I had bought specially for the interview (imagining perhaps that image was more important, and just looking like a reporter would be half the battle). The point of this story? There is a Radio 4 presenter called Paddy O'Connell, who hosts Broadcasting House on Sunday mornings. According to something I've just read in the Radio Times, he is my age and started at the BBC as a local radio trainee in 1989. Perhaps if I'd put more effort into my application and less into my image, maybe I too might be broadcasting to the nation on a Sunday morning... Oh, and he's gay too.

Clive came down and we popped the bubbly and celebrated the peace and quiet from the flat upstairs.
Paddy O'Connell
links: paddy o'connell   
Thu 08 March 2007
Not cuckoos any more
First sign of spring? I'd say it's the day the air-conditioning is first needed in the car, plus the first sightings of topless blokes in Transit vans. So on that basis we're half-way to spring as of today.

Doesn't Huish Episcopi sound exotic? Actually it's the name of a village in Somerset through which I passed today.



Wed 07 March 2007
Free at last
An e-mail from the agent for the flat upstairs: "Tenant out and locks changed". We're going to pop the cork on the bubbly on Saturday.



Sun 04 March 2007
Happy fiftieth
Roxana's 'children's' party in a village hall near Salisbury was... different. We had Pin The Tail On The Donkey, Pass The Parcel, Musical Chairs, as well as tea with peanut butter sandwiches and jelly and ice cream. A good time was had by all, and it was great to get together with Ian, Alison and Richard, Vanessa with her girls and Matthew and Michelle with Oliver, as well as the many friends of Roxana.

Later we returned to Roxana's for the 'grown-up' party where alcohol was allowed. Not to mention smelly cheese brought by Ian. Probably too much to drink. Highlights were the trips outside to watch the moon turn red. You can understand how ancient peoples might have got truly scared whenever the moon became eclipsed - not understanding the physics of it as we do.

There's a sort of aftermath feeling about today. Steve's not at all well - although I'm not convinced that's the booze.
image

image
Sat 03 March 2007
Cash for honours
Are you as intrigued as I am to know what the story is behind the injunction which the Attorney General last night obtained against the BBC broadcasting a story in the so-called 'cash for honours' affair? From readings on various blogs on the web (I have linked to the best source), it would appear that BBC News had got hold of an incriminating e-mail sent by or to Lord Levy, and as the police are about to arrest and charge him, they didn't want the story out there yet. But that's just a rumour, of course...

We're off shortly to Salisbury, to Roxana's children's party-themed birthday party. I will report back tomorrow (with photos I hope).
links: what is behind the injunction   
Fri 02 March 2007
Psst. Need a van?
Got an enormous Transit van for a few day, if you need anything shifting...
:-)

Actually, it stinks, and it's filthy - I mean really, horribly, filthy - in the cab. And the side door doesn't close properly. And the interior lights don't work. And the windscreen doesn't let the sat nav signals through properly. And did I mention it stinks and it's filthy? But it does have a flashing orange light on the roof, so that's ok.
Thu 01 March 2007
It stinks
Oops. Drove over a speed hump (in the dark, with no warnings it was there, and no markings on it) a bit too fast, and I've cracked the sump on my car. Huge puddle of oil. Had to wait for over an hour for the recovery truck, and my ride home from Oxfordshire. The cab really smelled bad, though. The driver was a real non-talkative type, so I dozed as best I could, woken occasionally by his inane and Pinter-pause-filled phone conversations with his wife, his son and someone from another Oxfordshire recovery firm.
Sat 24 February 2007
Almost - almost - wish I was Irish
To be Irish and in Croke Park today. The pubs of Dublin are going to do good business tonight! The better side won, even if they demonstrated some thugishness in the first half. Despite O'Gara's fantastic kicking, my man of the match was England's Strettle - what an athlete - fit, fast, incisive; needs a few more matches at the top level, but he's an absolutely instinctive player. But, to be honest, every single one of the Irish tries was a joy to watch, and thoroughly deserved. The match was at the same time both depressing and exhilarating - the score the former, the playing the latter.

The worries about the symbolism of England - and their National Anthem - playing at the stadium that has witnessed such historic scenes in the early years of the last century, were laid to rest by the extreme politeness of the Irish crowd.
links: strettle profiled | a history of croke park   
Fri 23 February 2007
They're dissing my favourite film
I don't as a rule put links to YouTube videos in my blog. You can all find your own. But just sometimes...
links: how gay is top gun?   
Thu 22 February 2007
Young again
How come I have so many zits on my shoulders? It's like being sixteen again. I wash properly, every day. I wear a clean t-shirt, every day. It can't be all those Snickers bars I eat... can it?

Are you watching Skins? I know I've raved about it before (4th Feb below), but it is a very good drama, funny in all the right places but with that ability to just get you *right there* when you least expect it.

If you remember back on Boxing Day we briefly had an electricity supply crisis. All resolved today with a new 'service head' fitted, with 100 amp fuse. So now we're rocking!
Tue 20 February 2007
Peace in our time
I passed yesterday (and will again today) within five or six miles of some old friends of mine, who live in a fairly remote part of the UK. But I can't look them up, and stop in for a coffee and a catch up. Partly because I don't know their number (although that would be easily remedied, because I know people who will have their number), but because I feel somewhat snubbed, as they didn't even reply to the wedding invitation we sent them last year. A real shame.

Another real shame is that I had to work last Sunday, and it looks as though I may have to work this coming Saturday too.

Stopped at some services on the M6, negotiated the ubiquitous credit card woman with the clipboard (stepped neatly behind her as she caught someone else on the way to the loo, just pushed passed her with a firm "no thank you" on the way back), was delighted by the shop's special offer on flapjacks, but then spoiled it all by getting ripped off by a man in the car park who approached with a neat pile of what he described as 'rag mags' with 'lots of jokes' in. I'm a sucker for a rag mag, and didn't look too closely, unfortunately, but handed over my £2 assuming it was going to the students' favoured charity. Actually the publication was just a load of re-hashed internet jokes we've all heard, with a disclaimer inside saying that none of the money was going to charity, and that the selling of (I think it said) pamphlets was exempt from any local selling licence regulations - covering themselves there, weren't they? Oh well, you live and learn. I'll put a few on here in a bit - you'll find them under stuff | jokes.

Two pieces of fantastic news arrived today, by way of compensation: firstly our charming upstairs neighbours have apparently lost their court case, and will be evicted soon, so we shall have peace at last (there's some Champagne chilling in the fridge already, and we would dearly love to be at home the day the bailiffs come); and Roxana has helped Duncan to help himself back on his feet again, and that has made me just so happy I can't tell you.
Sat 17 February 2007
Winner!
This morning, by post, my prize for winning yet another online competition on Rainbow Network. I won two prizes from them in 2001. Today it was a book called 'Nul Points', about the heroic failures in the Eurovision Song Contest.

Also in the post today the new dashboard holder for my iPAQ, so I can use it as a sat nav device. At the moment I'm still using the old iPAQ for sat nav, and the new one for everything else. Sadly I will have to continue doing this for a while, as the new holder doesn't fit.

This evening we went to Peter and Chris's, and chatted and relaxed and had a very nice meal.
links: rainbow network   
Sun 11 February 2007
Warning: it's starting...
The US appears to be accusing Iran of all sorts. Remember how the conflict with Iraq started? Look familiar? If this goes down the same route, it will be a total disaster for all of us. Be alert.

Surreal moment of the week: listening to a Lukas Hopwood mix on the stereo whilst looking at silent TV pictures of Morris dancers (think it was Songs Of Praise).
links: lukas hopwood   
Sat 10 February 2007
A relaxed Saturday
A delicious dinner, followed by watching the Lemony Snicket film - what a great story.
Wed 07 February 2007
A thoroughly good day
You know manned space flight has become routine when a female astronaut is arrested for attempted murder of a colleague, over the affections of a shuttle pilot.

Received a parking ticket recently while working. The 'no waiting' sign was invisible from where I parked, twisted as it was through ninety degrees on its pole. I took mobile phone photos, and have written a letter appealing. Most annoying is that the wardens - no doubt bonused on tickets issued - are employed by a contractor rather than the council in question.

Visited Videoforum today at Earls Court, and came away energised to do more filming and editing.

I walked from Westminster to the South Bank and took a few afternoon photos.

Met Steve at his office, and we went to a nearby pub and had a drink with some of his colleagues; then we went on to the Baltic Restaurant and enjoyed a very nice - and all too rare - meal out. No Polish Zywiec, but a passable alternative was a Polish pilsner called Lech. Steve had venison, while I went for the goulash, buckwheat and red cabbage. Mind you, not a goulash your typical middle-European peasant would recognise, having a great deal of lean, succulent pieces of meat. For dessert Steve chose a vodka ice cream, and I was tempted by the chocolate mousse with raspberries, which could have done with being about half the size! We were lucky enough to get in just before the rush and therefore got a table immediately, but within half an hour the place was full and buzzing very nicely. We had expected long delays, but I have to say the service was prompt and very attentive - the waiting staff certainly earn their crust, and I sincerely hope they share the "12.5% optional service charge" which is automatically added to the bill (a pet hate of mine, I have to say). Next time I will try some of the exotic range of flavoured and unflavoured vodkas they serve.
St Stephen's tower

Red Nose pod on the London Eye
links: videoforum | baltic restaurant   
Tue 06 February 2007
Irresponsible advertising
The refusal so far of the Yanks to release the cockpit video to the inquest is just so much nonsense, with the thing pretty firmly in the public domain, courtesy of the Sun.

What is with these biscuit and potato/chips adverts at the moment? McVitie's Digestives and Hobnobs are, apparently, a "whole lot of wholemeal" and "loads of oats" respectively. And potatoes go through a seemless transition from wholesomely earth-covered to chips. Connecting high-sugar and -fat foods only with basic, indisputably-good-for-you raw ingredients is insidious and cynical. What about the butter that binds the wholemeal or oats together? What about the fat which chips are fried in?

Have you heard this new album from Mika? Echoes of Freddie Mercury, the Scissor Sisters, the Communards, cheesy pop, and just a little something exotic. Love it.
links: the cockpit video   
Sun 04 February 2007
St Vincent and St Vincent
More noise today. Fortunately we had arranged to meet Frank for a coffee in town. He's back for a few days, and he told us a funny story.

It could only happen to Paul and Frank. They both work on cruise ships - same line, different ships. They thought they had somehow arranged to be in the same port at the same time and could meet. But, whilst they were in fact both in St Vincent... one was in the Caribbean and the other in Cape Verde, off the west coast of Africa. Ah, the pitfalls of globe-trotting.

While in town we went and bought a new mouse mat. "Ideal For Optical" it shouted on the packaging. It wasn't. So now it's back in the packaging with the receipt tucked in it, waiting to be taken back. Aargh!

This evening I watched the first two episodes of the new Channel 4 series 'Skins'. One has to keep up with what the young folks are watching these days. Funny, clever, and with the likes of Neil Morrissey, Arabella Weir and Harry Enfield in supporting roles, pretty respectable too.
links: skins   
Sat 03 February 2007
Heeeeeeeere's Jonny!
Wow! OK that try shouldn't have been allowed, but anyway - he's back!

Much noise again from upstairs, getting us down. Still, not long to go now... as we keep telling ourselves.
Tue 30 January 2007
Something about Bradley
I woke up this morning, in a four-poster bed, to the distant sound of a plane performing aerobatics somewhere over the vast golf course and gently rolling Yorkshire countryside beyond. Sometimes my life seems just perfect - usually before some disaster befalls me (I'm not that naïve).

In fact the hotel I am staying in is altogether rather wonderful, sympathetically extended and modernised. And as a special bonus, the breakfast waiter could have given a young Brad Pitt a run for his money any day - no exaggeration.

Arriving back home quite late this evening, I noticed either a daffodil or a crocus in the garden. What?!
Sun 27 January 2007
Organised/disorganised
Back from weekend in Cambridge. The last two years Burns' Nights have failed, for different reasons. However this year all was organised by Dave and Chris: a rather splendid meal in the Clarendon Arms last night (haggis neeps and tatties) with the 'Address to a Haggis' performed in unison - and much whisky all round.

Today's rendez-vous at The Plough at Coton had not in fact been properly booked, the place was packed, and with no plan B we were all a bit dischuffed. But after a bit of a wait we ended up having a really good time and a delicious meal. Stevie's most enormous piece of battered haddock and Steve's lamb shank were both excellent; Ian and I both had pizzas which were very good, and I had a most delicate strawberry brulée (see the pic).

The general consensus seems to be that my hair is better longer.

Earlier in the day I took this photo of a car I found when I came out of the supermarket in Cambridge. It's a Riley Vincent, apparently.
a Riley Vincent

strawberry brulée
links: the plough   
Thu 18 January 2007
Please proceed to Gate 35
Long weekend to Berlin with Steve and Ian begins today. Please go to the travel section to read the journal.
Sat 13 January 2007
A noisy afternoon in a corridor
The unacceptably loud music started in the flat above ours at 1.25pm.

We put up with it for around half-an-hour before deciding to take action. After I had buzzed the entry-phone buzzer, the occupant of the flat simply left the handset off the hook, which served to stop all use of the system by other residents, and left the music now blaring out of the entry-phone grill. We tried ringing on his doorbell, but he wouldn't answer. We called the agent, and when she spoke to him, he told us, via her, to "piss off". He also, apparently, claimed to only play loud music once a week. Obviously the fact that Steve had a similar incident last Wednesday shows this to be a lie.

I spoke twice to the Croydon Police control room. The first time I was told that the police had no powers to tell anyone to turn their music down, and I was given a number for Croydon Council Environmental Health. This turned out to be constantly engaged. I found another number for Environmental Health, but I was told they didn't have an officer on duty until 8pm; however, I made a report, and was told to call back after 8pm (another four hours away) if the noise was continuing.

The second time I phoned the police control room, I was told that there were 32 incidents which the police had to work through, and that no-one was available for our problem. I had a bit of a rant, telling the (mildly sympathetic) control room lady that I thought it was pretty disgusting that effectively nothing could be done about an unacceptable situation like this.

I then talked to some of our neighbours in the block, who were all to a greater or lesser extent also suffering from the noise, which by this time was turned up so loud that it was distorted. A total of six of us approached his door, and rang the bell, and knocked very loudly. The music was so loud that it was vibrating the windows in the corridor. We stayed outside the flat for some considerable time, ringing the bell, sometimes for extended periods, and shouting through the letter box at intervals. There was absolutely no response from inside. The 'music' (mostly rap) continued.

We considered several options, including seeing if we could cut off the electricity supply to his flat, or even to the whole block, but this wasn't possible.

Eventually we collectively made the decision to call the police again using 999, which one of our neighbours did from her flat, on the basis that the occupant upstairs was uncontactable, and could for all we knew be unconscious or otherwise seriously ill. Strangely just as the police car turned up, the music volume reduced dramatically. Two police officers knocked on, and shouted through, the door of the flat, and had to do so for some time before it was finally answered. They went inside, and we could hear loud argument, with the officers attempting to pacify the man. We heard snatches, including him suggesting that no-one had tried to contact him, and that if they had he would, of course, have turned his music down. But he also said that we had kicked at his door (which we hadn't). The police, we could hear, maintained that we were simply concerned neighbours, worried that as he wouldn't answer he might be injured. We also heard the word "prejudiced" mentioned by the man.

Shortly after the police had gone in, two paramedics turned up with an ambulance, and they waited outside the flat with us in the corridor. After a time the door was opened by one of the police officers, and we were asked to stand away from the stairs. The officers led the occupant of the flat downstairs, hand-cuffed and shirtless, and apparently put him in the back of the ambulance. By this time a number of other police officers had arrived downstairs in a police van. Result!

After a short time all three vehicles left, and all became peaceful here for the rest of the day.

I detest bullying in all its forms, and this was exactly that. It was beginning to cause both Steve and I some mental distress, but we were so pleased with the way all our neighbours rallied round to help, and in the end, I suppose, we won.
Fri 12 January 2007
Is Vic there?
It's 11.20am, and I'm pacing the pavement outside the Queens Hotel, Cheltenham, chain-smoking, nervous, and wondering what on earth had made me think it was a good idea to agree to meet a friend from school I hadn't see in over twenty-one years. I don't even know what he's going to look like after this much time. How will I recognise him? Since I've no idea which direction he's going to come from, I keep peering at approaching strangers, trying to make out enough detail, until inevitably as they get closer they turn out to be the wrong age, the wrong height, even the wrong sex.

Then he turns up, waving and smiling broadly, hard enough to recognise under a woolen hat, but in truth not looking so very different after all. This is Vic, who I first met at prep school in 1978, and went through a further six years of schooling with, but then said goodbye to one summer afternoon in 1985, and haven't seen since. His opening remark is: "This is what passes for smart, I don't really do smart, I think they despair of me at the office." He's very friendly, his character hasn't changed a whole amount, and on the way to the restaurant, and as we sit eating, we just talk about loads of stuff, reminiscing; he mentions a few names that I've not even thought about since I left school; we talk about what I'm doing now, and what he's doing now, and how neither of us has nor wants a huge amount of responsibility in our jobs. I'm delighted that he's content with his life, and I hugely respect that he has such an involving hobby (he teaches martial arts). He also helps me clarify my thoughts on where I'm living at the moment when he comments, "I don't know how you can live in London", which allows me to explain exactly what I don't like about it, and why I look forward to moving away.

We are the only customers in the restaurant throughout the meal. I don't finish my Thai green curry because we are talking so much. I also completely forget to take a photo of Vic, so we will have to make do with this one (right, above) from a 1983 school photograph. I'm afraid in comparison (right, below) I come off considerably worse.

All too soon it's time to part, though we agree to meet again before too long. I hope we can arrange to, because this was fun. This year I'd like to meet up with more old friends, and see how they're doing.
Vic, 1982

Hamish, 1982
links: spice lodge | prior park college   
Wed 10 January 2007
Hello? Is anyone there?
The day after tomorrow I'm going to meet an old school friend. I haven't seen him since - I'm fairly sure I'm right about this - the day of Live Aid in 1985, which was the day we both left the Upper Sixth at Prior Park College. I'm a bit nervous, actually. We've e-mailed a bit over the last year or so, and even attempted to meet once or twice, but it hasn't been practical. However, Friday's the day. Lunch in Cheltenham. I'll let you know how it goes.

News this morning of a shafting. By my company, of me and some four or five hundred of my longer-serving colleagues. Apparently our final-salary pension scheme is to close. I'm not happy, and I have an Important Meeting tomorrow with by boss's boss. Again, I'll let you know.

And, in an exquisite piece of timing, today was also set as the day when our company finally rids itself of the hated Orange mobile phone service, and swaps over to BT Mobile. Of course, it's all gone pants, and I can't receive calls at the moment; I can only speak to my far-flung colleagues by text message. No doubt it will all get resolved, but mighty annoying in the meantime.

More trouble with t'neighbours upstairs. I'm not at home, but Steve arrived this evening to music at full volume. Needless to say they wouldn't answer the door, but after he had leaned on the buzzer for several minutes, it all went quiet. We have reason to believe they are going to be moving out soon, and we cannot wait. There's a bottle of bubbly chilling for the day the removal van comes.

And finally... why is it that all the sachets of brown sugar have gone hard? I mean every single one. Everywhere. Not the white; just the brown. Odd.
hard brown sugar
Sun 07 January 2007
Ripped to shreds
After food shopping in Sainsbury's this afternoon we decided to go and look at kitchens in B&Q. Most disappointing. Not much on display, and what there was didn't really inspire us. We need to get someone in, so that's the task for the next couple of weeks. We have a few names given to us of fitters who might be able to project-manage, and we have some fairly clear ideas of what we want, so we must just get on and get it sorted. The queues to get into, and then out of, the B&Q car park were awful.

I seem to be farting a lot at the moment, but I don't know why, exactly.

Somewhat later I find myself standing in the kitchen literally tearing a - cold - roast chicken to pieces with my bare hands. Bought originally for Boxing Day but unused in the post-Christmas Day over-indulgence, it had been expertly cooked earlier this evening by Steve, with roast potatos, carrots, mash and brocolli, as our evening meal. But with loads left over, I decided to get down and dirty with the old bird, and get as much meat off to freeze as I could. I did quite well, I think.
ripping chicken up
Sat 06 January 2007
Twelve drummers drumming
Epiphany today, or the twelfth day of Christmas, so the tree came down. And I discovered a block of butter in the fridge, bought I think to make mince pies. Anyway, it's been a long time since we had butter to spread on toast, so I looked out an old butter dish knocking around at the back of a cupboard, and the low fat olive spread has been temporarily cast aside in favour of the real thing. Jolly nice it is too.

Reading a Christmas present - 'On Royalty' by Paxo - at the moment. Entertaining, well-researched, thoughtful, splendidly written and very accesible. Reccommended.

23 spam guestbook entries deleted this evening. Will have to keep a constant eye on the thing, and may have to institute moderation, which will be annoying. Have you posted an entry yet?
Thu 04 January 2007
Shame
The hotel where my eldest sister had her wedding reception, and I was a bee-stung page-boy, is now a Holiday Inn. Yuck.
Wed 03 January 2007
Car woes 2
More messing about today. Car went in for 130K service, and its first MOT - and failed. And didn't come back, either. So that really threw things out, especially since the fleet 'support' company didn't even tell me until it was too late to arrange a hire vehicle for the evening's work, which had to be postponed at the last minute. Grrr.
Tue 02 January 2007
Car woes 1
Started today - first day back after hols - working at home, but then went out to car to drive to work. Car wouldn't start. Had to call breakdown service. Thoroughly messed my timings up, and those of a colleague I couldn't visit on the way because I was now late, so he had to drive out to meet me.
Mon 01 January 2007
Happy New Year 2007
This is more about last night's party.

We were invited as guests of Roxana's friend Sharon, and felt honoured as the party was really just for village residents. Fancy dress was optional (musicals), so Roxana went and found some (genuine) 70s gear from the back of her wardrobe, and we pretended she was 'someone from Godspell'. Scared the children, I think. The hall was small, friendly, but very noisy, at least initially. Some of the grown-ups spent some of the time before getting drunk on distractedly looking out for the kids, but the evidence that that had gone by-the-by came later when a hideously drunk 16-year-old appeared somewhat later. Geoff, Grace and Ro-Anne (sorry if that isn't the right spelling) made merry, and pretended they didn't want to be photographed. Very fetching pink marigold, Geoff - was that the best you could do? Steve was driving, so he had to make do with Coke, while Roxana and I shared a bottle of red wine.

Hopeless midnight countdown, and party poppers a-plenty.

We'd anticipated rain, but instead got lots of freezing cold. No smoking in the hall, so trips outside to smoke, and my jacket round my sis's shoulders meant I got extra cold. Trouble getting Geoff to leave at the end, but we all got into the car just as it started to rain. Back home to one of those bizarre late-night-sit-around-the-table-all-slightly-piddled conversations. Fun though, all told.

Later, much later, we all get up and have our last cooked breakfast. The unusual has become commonplace, and will be missed. All round to Mum and Dad's to say Happy New Year and then eventually we got away. Back home, back to laundry, back to reality.
Steve and Roxana

Geoff, Grace and Ro