As part of our initiative to spend a long weekend away somewhere in the UK each month, SWMBO and I have just spent some time in North Devon. I have to come clean and admit it was tied in with me having the opportunity to play the Saunton golf club, a course considered to be one of the top links in the Country.
The only reason it is not on the Open Championship rota would be the inaccessibility of the course and the lack of hotel accommodation. The course is just on the edge of Exmoor, in the prime surfing area which encompasses Saunton Sands, Croyde and Woolacombe. i won't go into the merits of each bay in terms of long board or short, but the locals are pretty passionate about which is best.
So, having found a location for the golf it was necessary to find somewhere to stay, and I decided Ilfracombe would hit the spot. 'Oh dear', said my mate Ray, an expert on the coast-line of Devon and Cornwall having yomped most of the footpath in his time. 'It's like a time warp, a screen set from the TV series life on Mars'.
Well no problem, I thought, I can cope with that, and it will give us a bit of us time.
We first went to Clovelly, a heritage site and almost a living museum village. we walked down to the harbour on the narrow cobbled stone walkways, and looked back at the distance we had travelled, and the drop we had negotiated. Fortified with a pasty and a cup of tea we set off back up again. It was at this point that I recalled getting back up by Land Rover the last time I was there. I must have been about 10, and my Dad could not face the climb and so we all returned to the top by car. Sadly that service does not operate off season, so a walk back it was.
We took in the history of the place, the fact that until recently all deliveries were done using donkey powered sledges, and that it was the favoured place of Charles Kingsley who spent his childhood in Clovelly before moving on. he always maintained a cottage and returned most Summers to write. He was part of the Ruskin, Dickens, Tennyson crowd and his best known novels are Hereward the Wake and Westward Ho!.
Westward Ho is not far from Clovelly and also has a well thought of links course, considered one of the oldest in England.
Now back to Ilfracombe, where we arrived to find a very pleasant room waiting for us, with one of these open plan bathrooms as part of the accommodation. I find this sort of design quite strange. Anyway, the proprietors were very pleasant and had not long purchased the place, moving down from Birmingham in the process.
We quickly changed and went out to the restaurant SWMBO had booked as a birthday treat. And indeed treat it was. We had the place to ourselves, our own private chef and waiter, and failed to realise it was a sign of things to come.
On Sunday, we got up and found to our horror that Ilfracombe was closed.......nowhere to have a decent Sunday lunch, nowhere to eat in the evening, the tunnels beaches which are one of Ilfracombe's main tourist features were also closed, so we were stuffed. We ended up in the local 7/11 getting a feast of stuff to take back to the room, popped on a film and slobbed out there!
As a tribute the the open plan accommodation, we did take ourselves to a village in Exmoor called Simonsbath and in due course I will add a photoshop picture to this article as a record of events.
We have now done Christchurch in Dorset, Edinburgh and Clovelly in our weekend schedule, April we look forward to going to Cambridge, we are hopeful of a few more things to do there!!
Friday, 30 March 2012
Tuesday, 27 March 2012
Lights are on, but nobody is home
I am told that giving a eulogy with a friend or loved one lying in the casket next to you, is a very hard thing to do. It is particularly tough when the person involved has been cut down in the prime of their life.
I experienced the closest thing to it at the weekend when I visited my mate Dave in Queen Mary's hospital in Roehampton. Dave, also known as 'Cellnet' Dave or Dodgy, has been diagnosed with early onset dementia and last year was sectioned. he remains in a secure unit at the hospital while they try to find a suitable care home for him. The implications are that he will remain institutionalised for the rest of his life, eight to ten years in a living casket if you will.
Dave was a bit of a lad as we spent our 30 and 40 somethings together alot of the time. A founder member of the Tuesday club, he was regularly looking for a deal, or chasing a party. We played rugby together, and embraced the social side of the game, all around the World. His times in Cannes at the telecommunications gala's and his reputation, unfair though it was, as a short arms, deep pockets merchant were legendary and it was this latter trait which indicated to me that things were not all good in his world.
During my infrequent visits to London it became evident that people were bad mouthing Dave in a way that was not good. He was becoming nomadic and hermit like, and his behaviour in company was getting him into trouble. It is sad that only when his wife sought help to get him into a medical facility that could give him some help that the true nature of his change became evident.
When SWMBO and I visited him it was like walking into a scene from One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest. Initially he would not see us, but we stuck it out and some time later the nurse returned with him. He spent twenty minutes or so in the room with us, but it was obvious that he was really somewhere else. his recall of irrelevant facts was accurate, and his awareness of time and local events associated with it meant he left when the evening meal trolley was due. His wife has since indicated that he was aware who we were, which was a comfort.
I suspect he has days when the lights are off and nobody is home, or they are on and somebody is home. This weekend it was a combination of both. I hope I catch him in a better place next time.
I experienced the closest thing to it at the weekend when I visited my mate Dave in Queen Mary's hospital in Roehampton. Dave, also known as 'Cellnet' Dave or Dodgy, has been diagnosed with early onset dementia and last year was sectioned. he remains in a secure unit at the hospital while they try to find a suitable care home for him. The implications are that he will remain institutionalised for the rest of his life, eight to ten years in a living casket if you will.
Dave was a bit of a lad as we spent our 30 and 40 somethings together alot of the time. A founder member of the Tuesday club, he was regularly looking for a deal, or chasing a party. We played rugby together, and embraced the social side of the game, all around the World. His times in Cannes at the telecommunications gala's and his reputation, unfair though it was, as a short arms, deep pockets merchant were legendary and it was this latter trait which indicated to me that things were not all good in his world.
During my infrequent visits to London it became evident that people were bad mouthing Dave in a way that was not good. He was becoming nomadic and hermit like, and his behaviour in company was getting him into trouble. It is sad that only when his wife sought help to get him into a medical facility that could give him some help that the true nature of his change became evident.
When SWMBO and I visited him it was like walking into a scene from One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest. Initially he would not see us, but we stuck it out and some time later the nurse returned with him. He spent twenty minutes or so in the room with us, but it was obvious that he was really somewhere else. his recall of irrelevant facts was accurate, and his awareness of time and local events associated with it meant he left when the evening meal trolley was due. His wife has since indicated that he was aware who we were, which was a comfort.
I suspect he has days when the lights are off and nobody is home, or they are on and somebody is home. This weekend it was a combination of both. I hope I catch him in a better place next time.
Monday, 26 March 2012
Sofia so good....
Chiswicks best kept secret, our youngest grandaughter, Sofia, is now at the crawling stage, so we took a trip over to the flat on Friday to see her in motion.
She seems happy with herself and ambles around in a very contented way smiling at anybody whose eye she can catch. She is about eight months old now and I suspect she will soon be climbing the furniture to strengthen her legs prior to taking those first unstable steps.
At that stage, all the artifacts at floor level and probably up to about three feet of the ground will need to be moved out of reach as the wrecking ball into which babies transform, will be more than able to search and destroy.
It will be interesting what her first words will be. With a Bulgarian mother and grandmother in residence it may be something Eastern European which will probably sound like mamma or pappa any which way and no doubt she will be multi-lingual like her parents are.
It is strange that number one son has found his home in Chiswick at a time when I have vacated, but at least we know our way round when we visit.
Sofia was baptised in the local Russian Orthodox church whose vibrant powder blue spire can be viewed from the M4. The inside of the church did not have the same finish although the standard icons did cover the back wall of the church.
The dunking took place downstairs in a giant plunge bath and I am not surprised Sofia came out screaming her head off, the water was icy cold.
We hope she will soon be able to visit Scouseland and meet the human dynamo who is Ava. Give them both eighteen years (max) and they will be taking the pubs and clubs of England by storm....lock up your son's time!
She seems happy with herself and ambles around in a very contented way smiling at anybody whose eye she can catch. She is about eight months old now and I suspect she will soon be climbing the furniture to strengthen her legs prior to taking those first unstable steps.
At that stage, all the artifacts at floor level and probably up to about three feet of the ground will need to be moved out of reach as the wrecking ball into which babies transform, will be more than able to search and destroy.
It will be interesting what her first words will be. With a Bulgarian mother and grandmother in residence it may be something Eastern European which will probably sound like mamma or pappa any which way and no doubt she will be multi-lingual like her parents are.
It is strange that number one son has found his home in Chiswick at a time when I have vacated, but at least we know our way round when we visit.
Sofia was baptised in the local Russian Orthodox church whose vibrant powder blue spire can be viewed from the M4. The inside of the church did not have the same finish although the standard icons did cover the back wall of the church.
The dunking took place downstairs in a giant plunge bath and I am not surprised Sofia came out screaming her head off, the water was icy cold.
We hope she will soon be able to visit Scouseland and meet the human dynamo who is Ava. Give them both eighteen years (max) and they will be taking the pubs and clubs of England by storm....lock up your son's time!
Monday, 19 March 2012
CPR - know how to do it.
I am indebted to the Reverend Brian D'Arcy for the inspiration, and plagiarism, of today's blog. Brian presents 'food for thought' on a regular basis on BBC Radio 2, and I feel today's message needs a wider audience. ( As if my blog gets more hits that Radio 2 gets listeners, but you know what I mean!)
While my mate's and I were cheering England to victory this weekend at Twickenham, tragic events were unfolding at White Hart Lane, less than ten miles away. There, a young footballer collapsed, and in a moment the immortal words of Liverpool manager Bill Shankley were turned on their face.
Shankley famously stated: Some people believe football is a matter of life and death, I am very disappointed with that attitude. I can assure you it is much, much more important than that
Saturdays incident clearly indicated that life and death take precedence over all, yes, even football . A family sit at the bedside of Fabrice Muamba praying for the full recovery of their son, father, fiancee and friend. Sadly our recent family experience does not bode well for him. Brain damage sets in very quickly, with CPR needed within the first few minutes of a cardiac arrest. If, as reported, his heart did not start pumping again until he reached hospital, then his family may find they are faced with the worst decision anybody can ever face, as brain activity examinations will prove to be more vital than those on his heart.
These decisions were not necessary in the case of Liam Kelly and his family. Liam played in the Scottish League Cup final at the same time as the drama unfolded in London. After helping his side Kilmarnock to one of their greatest ever victories, he was informed his father, Jack, had suffered a heart attack at the end of the match, and died shortly afterwards.
Tragedy engulfs the World at every turn in these turbulent times. In these two incidents, however, the poignancy of Vinny Jones and his 'Staying Alive' advert becomes all the more relevant.
While my mate's and I were cheering England to victory this weekend at Twickenham, tragic events were unfolding at White Hart Lane, less than ten miles away. There, a young footballer collapsed, and in a moment the immortal words of Liverpool manager Bill Shankley were turned on their face.
Shankley famously stated: Some people believe football is a matter of life and death, I am very disappointed with that attitude. I can assure you it is much, much more important than that
Saturdays incident clearly indicated that life and death take precedence over all, yes, even football . A family sit at the bedside of Fabrice Muamba praying for the full recovery of their son, father, fiancee and friend. Sadly our recent family experience does not bode well for him. Brain damage sets in very quickly, with CPR needed within the first few minutes of a cardiac arrest. If, as reported, his heart did not start pumping again until he reached hospital, then his family may find they are faced with the worst decision anybody can ever face, as brain activity examinations will prove to be more vital than those on his heart.
These decisions were not necessary in the case of Liam Kelly and his family. Liam played in the Scottish League Cup final at the same time as the drama unfolded in London. After helping his side Kilmarnock to one of their greatest ever victories, he was informed his father, Jack, had suffered a heart attack at the end of the match, and died shortly afterwards.
Tragedy engulfs the World at every turn in these turbulent times. In these two incidents, however, the poignancy of Vinny Jones and his 'Staying Alive' advert becomes all the more relevant.
Saturday, 18 February 2012
Gee up Neddy
If Carlsberg ran auctions on e-bay then I would have probably purchased the best item I ever could.
I have a vivid childhood memory of playing Totoploy at my friends house when I was about 9 or 10. Totopoly was made by Waddingtons, and was the companion game for their greatest hit, Monopoly. For those of you not familiar with Totopoly, its a horse racing board game. There are two tracks, on each side of the board. You play the training track first to gain credits and chance cards to help you during the race, which takes place on the other side of the board.
There are twelve horses, all names after previous winners of the Lincolnshire handicap, and they are colour coded to represent the four training stables.
Now I remember these horses to be die cast lead horses with four legs, a tail and a jockey, proper three dimensional playing pieces.
When I purchased a set a few years ago, the horses had morphed into one dimensional plastic, supported on a plastic base. I was devastated, and set about trying to obtain an original set on e-bay.
Now this search has taught me many things; firstly the set I was searching for is a 1939/40 first edition set, and the only one which had horses as described, secondly it is as rare as hens teeth, as the set I have purchased is the first I have found in the three years I have been monitoring e-bay, and lastly, there is a social history lesson interwoven with the horse manufacturing process.
The set I have was manufactured for maybe a year tops. At the outbreak of World War II, while production continued, metal was at a premium. The horses were, therefore, made out of pressed cardboard and came with small wooden blocks in which to support them on the track.
This was the style of horse which was used into the 1950's. Suddenly metal horses returned to the stables so to speak, they remained the one dimensional style of the cardboard, albeit with integrated metal support bases. Then in the 1970's came the horrific plastic versions which I had purchased previously.
So I now own a very sought after game which I have covetted for years, but , sadly, I am too scared to play with it, and have nothing with the same sentimental attraction to search for e-bay at the moment. Oh well, it will have to be back to spare parts for the Dyson!!
I have a vivid childhood memory of playing Totoploy at my friends house when I was about 9 or 10. Totopoly was made by Waddingtons, and was the companion game for their greatest hit, Monopoly. For those of you not familiar with Totopoly, its a horse racing board game. There are two tracks, on each side of the board. You play the training track first to gain credits and chance cards to help you during the race, which takes place on the other side of the board.
There are twelve horses, all names after previous winners of the Lincolnshire handicap, and they are colour coded to represent the four training stables.
Now I remember these horses to be die cast lead horses with four legs, a tail and a jockey, proper three dimensional playing pieces.
When I purchased a set a few years ago, the horses had morphed into one dimensional plastic, supported on a plastic base. I was devastated, and set about trying to obtain an original set on e-bay.
Now this search has taught me many things; firstly the set I was searching for is a 1939/40 first edition set, and the only one which had horses as described, secondly it is as rare as hens teeth, as the set I have purchased is the first I have found in the three years I have been monitoring e-bay, and lastly, there is a social history lesson interwoven with the horse manufacturing process.
The set I have was manufactured for maybe a year tops. At the outbreak of World War II, while production continued, metal was at a premium. The horses were, therefore, made out of pressed cardboard and came with small wooden blocks in which to support them on the track.
This was the style of horse which was used into the 1950's. Suddenly metal horses returned to the stables so to speak, they remained the one dimensional style of the cardboard, albeit with integrated metal support bases. Then in the 1970's came the horrific plastic versions which I had purchased previously.
So I now own a very sought after game which I have covetted for years, but , sadly, I am too scared to play with it, and have nothing with the same sentimental attraction to search for e-bay at the moment. Oh well, it will have to be back to spare parts for the Dyson!!
Tuesday, 14 February 2012
Arrivederci Roma
We were in Rome at the weekend for the Italy v England rugby game. The previous weekend had seen Rome carpeted in snow for the first time for about 25 years, so we were not surprised when the skies went dark on the Friday night, and about three inches of the stuff deposited itself on us.
We were in the rooftop bar of the hotel at the time, so the sights were very spectacular. Our need to eat got the better of us though, and as there were no taxi hires available we cancelled our first choice venue and walked, or more likely slide, down the hill to a nearby pizzeria.
We had a tolerable meal, however the highlight was watching the Roman equivalent of a grit waggon in operation. Coming slowly up the hill was a builders truck of the type you would expect your jobbing roofer to have. Open at the back it housed several bags of grit and two men with garden trowels. These two individuals then sprayed the salt onto the road before a bulldozer followed along behind and picked it all up again!! Priceless.
The game this year was played at the stadium built for the 1960 Olympic Games, and a very fine stadium it is too. There was no under soil heating though so the game went ahead on a partially snow covered surface, and suffered a bit for that, but a win is a win and England move on to face Wales in a potential grand slam decider.
The stadium was my sixth Olympic stadium, although I have no particular wish to tick the rest off.
So all in all Rome was extremely cold and extremely expensive. Most meals worked out at about £50 per head and our top bar bill was £157.00 for 12 drinks. The Euro zone needs to get itself under control before I think about going there again.
Still at least we got a match in, pity the poor Irish supporters in Paris who had to travel from the centre to Stade France only to be told the game was off, so having to travel back into town only to find somebody had nicked their seats, they have to do it all over again on 4th March, c'est la vie.
Interestingly the reason it was built without under soil heating is because it was build on a rubbish tip and there are, therefore, pockets of potentially explosive methane still underneath which the heating pipes could ignite.
We were in the rooftop bar of the hotel at the time, so the sights were very spectacular. Our need to eat got the better of us though, and as there were no taxi hires available we cancelled our first choice venue and walked, or more likely slide, down the hill to a nearby pizzeria.
We had a tolerable meal, however the highlight was watching the Roman equivalent of a grit waggon in operation. Coming slowly up the hill was a builders truck of the type you would expect your jobbing roofer to have. Open at the back it housed several bags of grit and two men with garden trowels. These two individuals then sprayed the salt onto the road before a bulldozer followed along behind and picked it all up again!! Priceless.
The game this year was played at the stadium built for the 1960 Olympic Games, and a very fine stadium it is too. There was no under soil heating though so the game went ahead on a partially snow covered surface, and suffered a bit for that, but a win is a win and England move on to face Wales in a potential grand slam decider.
The stadium was my sixth Olympic stadium, although I have no particular wish to tick the rest off.
So all in all Rome was extremely cold and extremely expensive. Most meals worked out at about £50 per head and our top bar bill was £157.00 for 12 drinks. The Euro zone needs to get itself under control before I think about going there again.
Still at least we got a match in, pity the poor Irish supporters in Paris who had to travel from the centre to Stade France only to be told the game was off, so having to travel back into town only to find somebody had nicked their seats, they have to do it all over again on 4th March, c'est la vie.
Interestingly the reason it was built without under soil heating is because it was build on a rubbish tip and there are, therefore, pockets of potentially explosive methane still underneath which the heating pipes could ignite.
Thursday, 26 January 2012
Kung Fu Panda
The panda's were not the only reason we were in Edinburgh, but it would have been churlish to miss the opportunity to go and see them. It has been about 17 years since panda's were last in a British zoo, although they were a major attraction at London Zoo in the seventies. Chi Chi and An An were a star attaction although their discussions about Uganda came to nothing which was a disappointment for the zoo. Chi Chi is now stuffed and displayed in the national History Museum in London.
Anyway, back to Edinburgh and Tian Tian and Yang Guang. The zoo sell tickets to see the panda's in 15 minute slots throughout the day. It's included in the zoo entry fee which is a reasonable way to go about it. Unfortunately Yang Guang, the male, has got colic at the moment so he is resting up and is out of sight in his panda den.
If that's the case, Edinburgh zoo will not know whats happened to them as visitor numbers will go through the roof. So if you find yourself in Edinburgh do go and see them, but do bear in mind there is not a lot else to see in the zoo, although the penguins are always good value.
Anyway, back to Edinburgh and Tian Tian and Yang Guang. The zoo sell tickets to see the panda's in 15 minute slots throughout the day. It's included in the zoo entry fee which is a reasonable way to go about it. Unfortunately Yang Guang, the male, has got colic at the moment so he is resting up and is out of sight in his panda den.
Tian Tian, however, was happy as Larry as she chewed away on her bamboo and allowed us to snap away to her hearts content. Tian Tian has already given birth to twin panda's in a previous life, and Yang Guang himself has fathered a child panda, so the staff at Edinburgh are confident that they will be presented with a baby sometime during the ten years they are in residence.
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