Dastardly and Muttley

I was out in Brick Lane at the weekend, a marvellous collection of neon lights which celebrate the culinary delights of the local Bangladeshi community. The restaurants stretch as far as the eye can see , and the pukka wallahs stand outside every establishment trying to entice locals and tourists alike into their curry house. It was huge fun.

As I had walked my wife round half of Shoreditch, however, she was not best pleased we had past the turnoff twice without going down it. I was fortunate, therefore, to be able to offer her a seat in a traditional East End boozer, The Spitalfields Arms. Here I was presented with my beer drinking nightmare as they had both London Pride and Doom Bar on tap. Doom won , as I can get Pride anywhere these days, and a fine drop it was particularly as it had to travel all the way from Newquay.

While drinking, we discussed the range of 'Little Asias' we now have at our disposal. The Rusholme curry mile on the outskirts of Manchester is by far the biggest collection of curry houses I have seen, and Birmingham has its own Balti Boulevard in Sparkbrook courtesy of the large Kashmiri population who live there. The Birmingham outlets are mostly BYO but I suspect the restaurants all own the offie next door to ensure maximum revenue!!

Closer to West London of course is Southall with its varied and excellent curry houses, Ritas Cafe being one of my favourites, and Ealing has a few goodies as well. I remember in my student days going into Whitechapel on a Wednesday evening and always having chicken on the bone, as it was 50p cheaper. That seems to be a option no longer offered in most places.

So, where did we end up eating? Well our first choice, the Monsoon, reminded me of Groucho Marx great expletive, 'I would never join a club which had me as a member' as the place was populated with the East End equivalent of the post rugby crowd out for a lively time. So we moved to the Chat, a bit off piste, but well regarded. Sadly as we got there the chef had a dippy fit and walked out so no chance of food there then!! Third choice was a very pleasant Southern Indian outlet where we feasted well on the usual diet of too many main courses and an over abundance of sides......but it all got dusted off.

Now, if I were to stand for, and be elected, Mayor of London, one of my pledges would be to rid London of pigeons. This is an action which I think would be a great vote winner, and its importance to Londoners was brought home to me when I awoke the next morning to find my car once again covered in the remains of the pigeon equivalent of a fruit vindaloo and special fried rice.

This gave me an idea. Curry houses were oft thought to be responsible for procuring cats and dogs off the street to embellish their dishes with. Isn't it high time that they started to turn their attention to the vast pigeon population and by so doing start to maintain their supply chain in case a new epidemic of bird flu hits the UK and wipes out our chickens. I am sure the residents of tree lined streets in Manchester, Birmingham and London would be delighted to see the little blighters exterminated in this way, and with a bit of Massala sauce you would never tell the difference.

Which got me thinking, why do you never see a baby pigeon, or Squab to give it its correct name?

Smoke gets in your eyes.

An article in the Daily Telegraph at the weekend indicated that Stuart Hall was nearly 78. He will be remembered by most people as the linchpin of the 'Its a knockout' television programme, a roll he shared with Eddie Waring . Eddie was primarily a rugby league commentator and made such phases as " he's off for an early bath" and "an op and under" into household sayings.

Stuart, however, has been something of a cult hero since the programme ended as he continues to provide summaries on Radio 5 Live for Saturday afternoon sports listeners. He has been providing commentary for almost 50 years, and will be continuing that service during the coming season. In the article it mentions that his first ever game was Sheffield Wednesday v Leicester in 1958, a match which ended 4-4, and was played almost entirely in fog. He had no idea what was happening so made everything up. It clearly served him well.

Fog has also played a part in embellishing the folk law status of the Kop terracing at Anfield, home of Liverpool FC.. A match was played there once and visibility was so bad that when Liverpool scored at the other end the Kop had to chat "Can you tell us who just scored, can you teeeelll us, who just scored?" A reply came back through the fog "Kevin Keegan, Kevin Keegan" to which the Kop replied paraphrasing the famous Scaffold hit single "Thankyou very much, thankyou very, very, very, very much".

Years before that at the time Stuart Hall was just starting out, England rugby teams used to be selected after a traditional game at Twickenham between the Probables and the Possibles. On this occasion fog again conspired to play a part to the extent that the selectors needed to run along the touchlines trying to see who was doing what, or listening out for shouts of encouragement to help them decide on their international side.

Throughout the game they heard such phrases as 'well played Johnston-Taylor', or 'good tackle Johnston-Taylor, or even ' excellent play Johnston-Taylor. Faced with such comments the selectors had no hesitation in selecting said player for the upcoming Five National Championship. It was only some years later that Johnston-Taylor was gracious enough to admit that it was indeed he who had called out praising himself throughout the match. His cunning stunt being rewarded with several subsequent caps.

Genesis 2:1-3

I notice the second test between England and India is delayed by the rain. I find it strange that a test match in England is scheduled for a Friday start anyway, although I am told it is because players need three days rest between back to back test matches. Once again it seems players needs are put before those of the paying public.

I remember the uproar which occurred when the traditional rest day, Sunday, was abolished for test matches. The players would rather play right through was the reason given, although I suspect it was something to do with the TCCB feeling they could get a bigger crowd on the Sunday than on the following day. What of course got overlooked in all this was the fact that the rest day was really for the spectators who had spend three days on the lash and welcomed a day of rest to prepare them for work on the following Monday. But hey, the players have to come first, right?

Another aspect to bear in mind is the hospitality business. The Thursday and Friday are the traditional biggies, with fewer people wanting to go on the weekend. Well that's our own time isn't it, not work time when hospitality always feels that much better. This weeks Friday start has diluted that marketing opportunity as well.

Cricket is not alone in turning a blind eye to the needs of the spectators. The 'old farts' at the RFU and elsewhere modified the Five/Six Nations format a few years ago to do three things, all for the benefit of players and television. Some games are now played on consecutive weekends so making attendance, particularly away from home, less achievable. The fortnightly schedule at least gave some weekend time at home with the family.

Next, they have introduced Sunday games, the drawback of which mirrors the cricket problems above. After attending a game, home or away, the thought of having to go to work on the Monday is a real turn off and is starting to force many long term supporters to select their fixtures more carefully.

Finally there comes the question of kick-off times, with usually only one game of the three kicking off anywhere near 3pm. Just don't bring this matter up with supporters of premier league football teams, who only get to see their team kick off at 3pm in pre-season friendlies.

Dib dib dib

The last post was my 50th, so as I reflect on a milestone reached, it is time to pay tribute to another which is headlining this week.

Today is the start of the Scout Jamboree in deepest Essex, which commemorates the centenary of the Boy Scout movement. Scouting is now a merger of traditional Boys Scout and Girl Guide packs, so the organisers of the event are hoping for an excess of 50,000 participants this week.

From an initial gathering in 1907 on Brownsea Island the event has grown and grown, and the target figure for this week could rival the record of 1929, when over 45,000 scouts assembled in Arrowe Park, near Birkenhead to celebrate the 21st anniversary. That event was nicknamed the 'Jamboree of Mud' and all the rain of recent weeks has had organisers worried that not only would the attendance record be broken, but that the levels of mud would far out do the traditional swamp which is the Glastonbury Festival. I am sure, though that a bit of mud will not dampen the enthusiasm of those attending.

Lemar and Liberty X headlined the opening concert last night, and Prince William is due to put in an appearance during the week. Peter Duncan, of Blue Peter fame, is the current chief scout and he welcomed everybody to the jamboree, a word which derives from the Swahili , Jambo, meaning 'Hello'.

Two of the S-club are helping out this week in the Splash section, when they plan to put 4,000 scouts on the water each day for four days......raft building, kayaking and sailing are some of the activities involved. The helpers were briefed earlier in the week to expect a certain number of deaths, and that the number of free condoms they give away will still not be sufficient to eradicate totally any of the unwanted pregnancies this event has traditionally produced......I wonder what badge you get for that then?

Oh, and the site of the jamboree in Arrowe Park is now a golf course and is just down the road from where we live. I have hacked round there many a time....

Bingo

The house market in W4 seems to have tailed off since the last interest rate rise, with the number of viewing reducing accordingly. Our situation continues to be hampered by neighbours putting their homes up for sale. Following our next door family moving out, we now find that number 45 has been placed on the market. Theirs is a four bed but unlike us, they have already built into the loft to accommodate the extra bedroom. The price they are asking is close to ours so I am not too worried on that score.

More interesting is that they have an agents board outside which will indicate to any prospects we get, that there is another property available close by. To counter that I have now instructed Hamptons to put their own sign up, two can play at that game.

All it needs now is for 39 to go to market, which they have indicated could be a possibility, and that will be four properties sold in a line. Our newbies at 43 will definitely know they got a bargain.

We went to see Mary Poppins at the Prince Edward theatre last night, Scarlett Strallen as Mary and Gavil Creel as Bert, were first rate. To move this house selling business along I think I need a bit of luck, maybe I should find a chimney sweep and shake his hand too......

"The batsmans Holding, the bowlers Willey"

The third Saturday in July always means a day at the Lords test match, that's cricket for anybody viewing this from abroad. Its an institution I have been a part of, for almost as long as I can remember.

I first went with my dad in 1962, to see the famous West Indies side captained by Gary Sobers, and including the mighty fast bowlers Wes Hall and Charlie Griffiths. England's Ted Dexter stood firm against them to score 86 runs and it was an innings widely regarded as worth more than the hundred which eluded him.

When the West Indies batted, Conrad Hunte, Roland Kanhai and best of all, Basil Butcher stroked the ball to all parts of the ground. I was fortunate to meet Sir Gary at a golf event in St Lucia a few years ago, and found him a pleasant, approachable and humble man. Struggling now with arthritic knees, he was still able to swing a golf club in the same relaxed manner with which he batted and bowled. He and Botham, who was also playing golf, still have it in all rounder terms for me, well ahead of Freddie Flintoff.

And in my 45 years (groan) of going to Lords, I must have seen them all. Great batsmen from all countries pitting their wits against equally great fast bowlers. Catches, sixes and subtle cricket have all been a joy to behold.

I have been privileged to watch several times from the boxes in the old grandstand and be treated to lunch and tea in relative luxury, but more generally I have been there in the company of good friends, both male and female.

This weekend my wife was there as she has been for neigh on 17 years. It was our first date then, and the first date in the diary now, ahh, and we joined with Figs and Goodwin for our traditional lunchtime going into teatime session. I met Figs about 30 years ago when we were both working in Croydon, and although he has been 'our man at Wimbledon' for a long time now, we still try to do the Lords gig as we have always done. I met Goodwin through Figs when he kindly put me and Neil Brown up in Singapore when we were doing the Far East in about 1982. That though is a story for another day.

The cricket is still the focal point , but the whole social event which surrounds it is equally important these days. Test matches are the ultimate test of skill and courage as epitomised in the past by Brian Close and David Steele, and the crowd are made up of true aficionados of the game.

While it is good that 20/20 cricket has wafted a breath of fresh air through the game, and embraced the younger generation, the fifty over side of things seems to be struggling to keep pace. The recent home Ashes series has shown how equally exciting the five day game can be and good cricket, good banter and above all good friends will keep it top of our Summer social calender for many years to come.

Three fingers please

Jacqui Smiths revelations last week that she had smoked dope at University rather overshadowed the fact that she was an avid participant in the world renowned drinking game, 'bunny rabbits'.

It is good that such a revered game should get such high profile publicity, albeit on the back of a much more dull and uninspiring one like spliff smoking.

'Bunny rabbits' was just one of a host of games embraced by the various sports and social sections of colleges all around the Country when I was a lad, so why should a cabinet minister feel ashamed or bashful about admitting they were a regular participant. The practice is also wide spread in rugby and cricket clubs and any publicity which would hasten an increase in the numbers playing should to be welcomed. One would hope the present government will not endeavour to brush such high profile exposes under the carpet, or release names of further party games they have played, on 'bad news' days.

I feel certain that John Major when in office occasionally dabbled in 'Fizz Buzz Cricket' and that senior civil servants at Defra are dab hands at 'Frogs in a Bucket' or 'Fuzzy Duck' and I understand George Bush and Tony Blair regularly played 'Commander Bilbybobs' with their Chiefs of Staff in the White House.

Everybody needs a relaxation when away from the public gaze, and what better way that a traditional British drinking game. Now whats the time....ah, is that right hand drinking or left?

Big Mac and fries please

Water, water everywhere and not a drop to drink.....well my wife is not best pleased. She has just spent 2 hours trying to get out of the Warwick Services exit as the M40 is flooded just South of her near Lemington Spa. She has already been on the road six hours.

I explained to her that they were playing cricket quite happily at Lords, but the fact seemed to totally under whelm her. I don't know, what more can a man do?

For sale, Chariot, seen better days.....

Two items took my eye this week, the Rugby Football Union 'Go Play Rugby' initiative and the fact that Wasps FC are looking to increase the capacity of the Wycombe Wanderers stadium they use for their home games. 'We need to play to bigger crowds', echoed head coach Ian McGeechan and new chief executive Tony Copsey.

The two initiatives do, however, seem to be contradictory.

I have said before to anybody who will listen that professional rugby has signalled the death knell of amateur club rugby in London, as I knew it. Even the introduction of a league system prior to that did not decimate the number of teams playing on a Saturday to the same extent.

Yes its true that mini and junior rugby participation continues to grow, but one must question whether this is breeding the players of tomorrow or the spectators?

Consider this scenario. When I played for Twickenham RFC our near neighbours and the local senior club, Harlequins, played to a few hundred spectators, more if they were playing a top Welsh club. Twickenham would field five or six teams and few people would be interested in watching the 'Quins ahead of playing for the extra 'B'.

Nowadays they play to 8-10,000 every week, and Twickenham, in common with other local clubs, are down to two, sometimes three teams. If ten percent of that crowd are potential rugby players that is the equivalent of 50 or 60 teams who have been lost to the playing side of the game. As well as 'Quins, London hosts Wasps, Saracens and London Irish, no wonder clubs across the region are finding recruitment so difficult.

Mini's day of course is Sunday, so they are free to watch their hero's and still get enjoyment out of their weekend runabout, and good luck to them.

So, Wasps, for one, wanting to match the 15,000 crowds which Leicester regularly get seems to be in direct conflict with this new RFU initiative to get more people on the park every Saturday. Surely they should be looking at different ways of tackling the problem in conjunction with the professional clubs. Why not play the games on a Sunday to allow people to turn out for their local club and still get to see a top game at the weekend? Consider doing the same for the block of England mickey mouse internationals which take place in November.

Now the professional product is so good, it appears that it may well be biting the hand that feeds it, as the gulf with junior rugby widens. This will only result in more foreign imports being attracted to the game, and the England side becoming weaker as a result. Is a half empty Twickenham the legacy of such initiatives, or worst, will more women get to go to games!!

Spiders and newts

The news that Boris Johnson has agreed to stand as prospective Conservative candidate for the position of Mayor of London will, I am sure, be greeted with mixed emotions, and these emotions will probably not be segregated by party politics, such are this man's particular characteristics.

Boris is one of the few MP's who has been asked to apologise for telling the truth, he portrays himself as a larger than life character with his frequent television appearances and he is an advocate for the use of cycles ahead of the motor , even though he loves fast cars. He could probably entertain viewers in a one man "I'm a celebrity..." or "Celebrity Big Brother", but is he the right man for the job of Mayor?

He is seen as a bumbling character, but this is an image he works hard at portraying, very few people actually dislike him, but he does have a problem with people failing to take him seriously. Like Ernest Shackleton, however, he is very good at surrounding himself with highly skilled, successful people. The Mayor of London will need such support to manage the diverse and endless tasks which the position warrants.

Then, of course, we have to ask whether 'Red' Ken is worth a third term in office. In the same way as Monty Python asked what had the Romans done for us, so Londoners could ask the same of him.

The congestion charge will probably live as his legacy, it has certainly earned a lot of money for the coffers, but has it been the success he says it is? I don't drive into London so I am not at liberty to say whether the traffic flows more freely during the day, but I see it as a bit like speed cameras. They too generate income but do they stop accidents or speeding motorists, I don't think so.

Livingstone will at last face a tough election if Boris is indeed his opponent, and Ken will be keen to win. He has his Crossrail scheme to see through, and would dearly like to be Mayor during the London 2012 Olympics albeit having to face a fourth election to achieve it. He does, however, court controversy in the same way as he indicates his opponent does. His stubbornness is illustrated by his insistence on progressing the West London tram link through Shepherds Bush and Ealing, when most of the local people are not in favour. His free travel for U18's caused a rash of streaming attacks on buses and his intransigence was evident when he failed to review and modify the scheme, and his power trip has been most evident with his insistence on taking over local planning approval from the Government, something which will allow his own personal taste for high rise and unsuitable architectural design to dominate the London development landscape for as long as he remains in power.

First of all Boris needs to be nominated as one of the Conservative candidates, then all of London get to choose whether he stands against Ken. The opportunity for tactical voting, and election fraud will reach new heights I suspect, as Labour look for ways of excluding Boris from the final election. The fact that Livingstone is already bad mouthing Boris in a sure sign of genuine concern at losing his job.

As The Times quoted "We ought to celebrate it, being the first election for decades when a maverick can't lose."

Whistle down the wind..

I am just looking to book a holiday for later in the year, and given that the Caribbean is a location we like, I thought it best to check out the hurricane season. It runs from July until November and just once in a while I would quite like hurricane Simon to put in an appearance.

No chance of that happening though, as the names are pretty much cast in stone, and a bit like the Open golf championship courses, they work on a rota system. If yer not in, yer can't win basically. Unless that is, you are a real howler like Katrina, when you might get dropped for a new bird in six years time. The 2007 names are very similar to 2001, and already Andrea and Barry have been allocated, probably to tropical storms. So, see, Allison is already history......and so is Iris, replaced by Ingrid. My sister-in-law is in the rotation as are Stanley and Scope from the S-club five.

And Chantel is the next one to arrive, blimey if she is anything like her namesake (different spelling I know!!) in Big Brother the East coast of the States is in for weeks of howling and screaming. At least Preston will get some peace.

Saturday nights alright for fighting

Well the house remains unsold, although there have been plenty of viewings over the weekend, so hopefully Monday will bring some news of offers. The new agents seem to have more about them, and the photographs show the property off in a good light.

New neighbours have moved in next door, but as yet I have not been able to say hello

The running is now up to 3K, but the weight I would like to lose is still refusing to shift, I might have to start using the stairs at work as of Monday. It looks like my London engagement might be extended although the Company has a data centre in Plymouth, so my visit there last week allowed me to visit my mum.

It also allowed me to confirm my official status as a Plymouth Argyle anorak as I stopped off on the way home to see them play a pre-season friendly at Weston-Super-Mare. 600 or so people watched so it made the home side £5,000 or so, which is a lot of money to them.

Argyle were beaten today by Torquay in another friendly, but hopefully, like me, the porkers will lose a bit of weight and be fighting fit for the start of the season.

So I am just settling down to the double bill of boxing, it will be interesting to see if the Sweatie can give Khan some sort of fight, his previous opponents are just unaware of how fast his hands are, and by the time they find out, they are usually horizontal on the canvas

Whose bed have yer boots been under.......

A friend rang the other day, 'Hello' he said.
'If my missus rings I was out with you at the weekend, we were in the Ambassador Club playing blackjack until 4am'
It got worse.....
' Your name is Steve and you work for ABN Ambro and you're trying to head hunt me.'
'OK' I said.
'Oh yes, and you're a Geordie'
All I could think to say was 'How much did I win?!!!'

Luckily I never got a call but it made me wonder about mates and favours, and just being there really. What is acceptable to ask of a mate, and what is thought to be crossing the line? The example above probably gives a clue. If you would do something for a friend, you would hope, or even expect, that friend to do the same for you, otherwise we would all end up living in a one way street.

Fear not for my safety though, my philandering days are well behind me.......

Great favours or support always stay with me. I had tremendous support when my first marriage fell apart, particularly from Stu, of cardiac climb fame. I have not needed to provide that sort of support to him or any other mates, in return, but having a house with a few spare rooms has allowed me to take in a few waifs and strays when the situation called for it. Indeed if there was a Blue Plaque on my wall for everyone who had been in residence, the house would look like a game of Connect 4!

Two in particular were nightmare tenants as they seemed to have a fear of the dark and needed company, any company, to get them through the night. They were not usually there at the same time though, that would have just been carnage!

Going back to the phone call though, it was a bit unfortunate it was on speaker phone with my missus sitting in the passenger seat, she now thinks men are far bigger rats than she always imagined.

To quote Reg Smythe; ' No man is a hero to his missus, not because the hero is no hero, but because the missus is a missus.'

Going up Camborne Hill coming down.....

This weekend was the first opportunity to sample a few local bars, in a smoke free environment, now that the smoking restrictions have come into force. nSo what changed?

Well, clearly my hair and clothes did not smell of old ashtrays when I awoke the following morning which was a bonus, but on the night, the one main difference was that 'Holty Corner' was not filled with chippies, labourers, brickies and sparks, as is usually the case on a Friday. They were still frequenting the pub, but were all sitting out in the beer garden. That at least meant people could get to the bar a bit more easily, but it also begs the question what are they going to do in November and December when the weather changes and its pouring with rain and blowing a gale.......er, hang on, its doing that now....well you know where I am coming from.

I do recall though that the last Labour manifesto when it was published indicted that bars and restaurants would be made smoke free if they served food, but that other areas would remain available to the Snoutcasts. Even thought this pledge has not been delivered, it got me thinking about the potential for the return to segregated bars.

There were certain benefits to drinking when a pub had two, three or four bars. There was the Lounge bar, or Parlour, for the gentlemen with their lady friends, the Snug for people who were trying to be discrete, the Tap Room which derived its name from the process of tapping the barrels, and serving the beer gravity fed, with no gas. It was a joy at The County Arms, a Youngs pub in Wandsworth, a stones throw from the prison, which is the last pub in which I regularly drank it served that way.



Some alternative thinkers consider the Tap Room was the area used for domino's, getting its name from the tap,tap which signalled that a player could not lay a domino in the current configuration of tiles. I am not sure about that though.

Then finally there was the Public bar for the hardened drinkers, men only and as thick with smoke as a white mans fire. These areas would surely have been dedicated to the aforementioned Snoutcasts if today's regulations had been thought through a bit more carefully.

I am not a fan of smoking, but to lose the characters who partake, will be another step down the road to oblivion for the traditional British boozer.

Mayonnaise and Beer.....

I love this parable

When things in your life seem almost too much to handle, when 24 hours in a day are not enough, remember the mayonnaise jar...and the beer.

A professor stood before his philosophy class and had some items in front of him. When the class began, wordlessly, he picked up a very large and empty mayonnaise jar and proceeded to fill it with golf balls. He then asked the students if the jar was full. They agreed that it was.

So the professor then picked up a box of pebbles and poured them into the jar. He shook the jar lightly. The pebbles rolled into the open areas between the golf balls. He then asked the students again if the jar was full. They agreed it was.

The professor next picked up a box of sand and poured it into the jar. Of course, the sand filled up everything else. He asked once more if the jar was full. The students responded with an unanimous "yes." The professor then produced two cans of beer from under the table and poured the entire contents into the jar, effectively filling the empty space between the sand. The students laughed.

"Now," said the professor, as the laughter subsided, "I want you to recognize that this jar represents your life. The golf balls are the important things--your family, your children, your health, your friends, your favorite passions--things that if everything else was lost and only they remained, your life would still be full. The pebbles are the other things that matter like your job, your house, your car. The sand is everything else--the small stuff.

If you put the sand into the jar first," he continued, "there is no room for the pebbles or the golf balls. The same goes for life. If you spend all your time and energy on the small stuff, you will never have room for the things that are important to you.

Pay attention to the things that are critical to your happiness. Play with your children. Take time to get medical checkups. Take your spouse out to dinner. Play another 18. There will always be time to clean the house, and fix the disposal. "Take care of the golf balls first, the things that really matter. Set your priorities. The rest is just sand.

"One of the students raised her hand and inquired what the beer represented. The professor smiled. "I’m glad you asked. It just goes to show you that no matter how full your life may seem, there’s always room for a couple of beers."

.....and its Friday so that sounds a good idea to me!

Its good news week.....

Well, its started in that vein. Our eldest, Tim, proposed to his lovely girlfriend , Lili, while on holiday, and she said yes....good girl.....so on Monday night we went out to Joe Allen in Covent Garden for a bit of scram. Tim thought he was about 7 the last time he went, and in those twenty years, the style, decor , burgers and the boy on the 'joanna' have not changed that much. Lili is from Brazil, so she struggled to identify too many of the people in the flyers around the wall, but she liked the place a lot.

Also on Monday the youngest, Kieran, graduated from Liverpool University with a history degree . He is hoping to stay on to do a Masters, but it all hangs in the balance at the moment as he was awarded a 'Desmond' by the narrowest of margins. Tim and Maxine share the top billing in the house, with a 2.1 each, I remain the dunce of the class having just scrapped a few 'A' levels, in the days when they were considered a good qualification to have.

I broke my leg on a motor bike during the examinations, and sat my Maths papers in hospital, with a teacher by the bed invigilating. Consequently my grades were not good enough for Uni, so I ended up at City Poly in their Sir John Cass campus. After a year or so we came to an agreement that if I left they would not kick me out.

Still, the experience of living away from home, allowed me to improve my table tennis, basketball and rugby skills, as well as play footie for Balham Celtic on a Saturday afternoon. Parties were pretty plentiful, and being thrust into bedsits and student flats was a bit of an eye opener, so, social skills 1, Academia 0 I think.

I wonder what Nick Harrison and Rob Stokes are doing now?

I have taken the decision to change estate agents as I seem to have exhausted the network of my current incumbent, and the new people have viewings already set up for this afternoon, so that might even contribute to the good news.

An increase in the base rate tomorrow might not though.

Maxine will be in London on Fiiday to celebrate her birthday and when she's here its always good news. The week concludes with my oldest god- daughters 18th birthday bash in Guildford.

Into the Valley of Death

There once was a very famous man

On his famous horse he'd ride through the land

The people used to see him everywhere

When he died, they put a statue in the square

So say the opening lyrics of the Bonzo Dog Doo Dah Band in their song, The Equestrian Statue.

It came to mind yesterday as I strolled from Victoria to Charing Cross, via Parliament Square and Whitehall. This area of London is to equestrian statues what the Coolmore stud is to horse racing. Amongst the people I passed were Charles I, George IV, Richard the Lionheart and George, Duke of Clarence.

Now there is thought to be a protocol about equestrian statues relating to the number of hooves that touch the floor. If the statue has two touching then the rider was killed in action, if they have three touching then they died subsequently of injuries received in battle. if all four feet are on the ground they died of non-battle related causes.

The statue of Earl Haig in Whitehall does contradict this theory . His equestrian statue has one hoof off the ground, although there is no evidence to suggest he suffered injuries in the various campaigns he was involved in, except PTSD, something unheard of in his time.

Backing the theory ,however, are the Civil War monument in Gettysburg and at Waterloo in Belgium where the statues have consistency with the theory.

And did you know that Parliament Square in 1926 was made into the first ever roundabout, I didn't?

Dublingrad

My wife and I have just returned from a long weekend in Dublin, courtesy of Irish Ferries. A couple of nights b & b in the four star Burlington Hotel, and the crossing were covered, so we just had to feed and water ourselves....neither are too much of a problem in that fair City.

We visited Wicklow, Arklow and the Wicklow mountains on Saturday, and generally chilled the rest of the time.

I need to give the City a 'heads up' though, and how much I hate that expression. The joy of visiting the City is as much about the people as it is the surroundings, particularly the serving staff who take a real pride in being Irish and doing their job well. Imagine my disappointment then that many of the bars we visited had non-Irish staff behind the bar.

Now I have never had a problem with the Aussie and Kiwi population of London who traditionally came over, worked their passage in bars and restaurants and funded the next part of their round the world trip accordingly. They were kind of British, so had an understanding of the culture of the British pub, could give the banter as much as take it, and generally speaking laughed and joked their way through their shifts, keeping the regulars happy.

The problem Dublin has is that the immigrant staff they are employing have limited English, and much less Irish, don't really understand what the Craic is all about, or the special relationship they should have with their punters. If it becomes endemic, the atmosphere of the traditional bars will be lost and the bar tender profession, so revered in the Country, will become a thing of the past.

So rant over.....and that said, we did find some cracking bars full of the Craic and people prepared to chew the fat. Kehoe's remains a favourite, as does O'Donohues in Baggot Street. Over the road is Doheny & Nesbitt which we must add to our rugby pub circuit, and O'Briens in Leeson Street was a local lively bar.

We had a very pleaseant evening in Bijou, a restaurant in Rathgar, but kitty's next to O'Donohues promised much but came up a bit short.

Three hurling contests at Croke Park made for a lively city, not withstanding the usual 'hens'.

Roll on the Six Nations!!!