Retirement Rocks

Dog Days In Florida

2012-01-26T19:47:00.003Z

As the temp hits 85F/29.4c outside and a rather too warm 82F/28c inside, it's time to close the doors and windows and turn on the air conditioning.

Apart from not being able to see the laptop screen for sweat in my eyes, the other sign that it's too warm in here is to look at Pixie, our small long haired dachshund. She just flops down on the carpet wherever her little legs have taken her.

She has several bed options and when the mornings were chillier a few weeks ago, she loved to leave her living room bed and stroll out to the lanai and lie in a sunbeam. She'd even move as the sunbeam crossed the floor as the morning passed into the afternoon.

A dog's life ? You betcha.

But as well as protecting us from rogue sunbeams, she also "protects" us from the approach of strangers. And friends. And the Fedex driver. And other dogs. And cats, rabbits, birds and gators. Basically she'll bark at the approach of anything with a pulse. Us included.

Of course once a human actually comes right up the drive to the screen door, she'll stand threateningly on the other side until they speak to her and then she'll roll over on her back and all four stumpy legs will quiver with excitement at the idea of her tummy being rubbed.

Experts in canine evolution are as yet uncertain if this survival policy is any use whatsoever but as long haired dachshunds are not an endangered species, I have to think it's a pretty damn clever policy.

I suspect possums learned it from dachshunds and then took it one stage further.

But like most teenagers, Pixie has to earn her keep around the house so as well as fending off over friendly gators and directionally challenged snakes, she does her chores. One of these chores is to vacuum the kitchen floor and this she does with enthusiasm after the preparation of every meal.

Be it fixing basic cereal or using a multitude of ingredients to prepare a mouthwatering evening meal, once we've left the kitchen for the dining table, Pixie moves in to sweep up. Actually she likes to move in BEFORE we leave but tends to get shouted at and runs the risk of being stepped on. It's often a risk she feels is worth taking !

In the kitchen, she comes into her own. Nature may have given her short legs and an undersized body but these are perfect physical attributes for getting her snout into every corner of the kitchen floor. Speaking of snouts, her's would put an anteater to shame.

It's like the attachment on a vacuum cleaner and she uses it just as effectively.

The downside to this behaviour is that she often picks up items that are both unwanted and inedible as her hovering isn't confined to the kitchen floor. The lanai itself is fair game as is the laundry room, bathrooms and bedrooms. Ironically she's worked out that 'goodies' are seldom if ever to be found around the carpeted edges of the living room so we just have to vacuum in here ourselves ! Pah !!

Given this ability to get into every corner of the house, we're used to seeing Pixie wandering around with all sorts of things 'stuck' onto the end of her nose. These are usually small bits of tissue, paper or fluff and it's only after this sight has given us a good laugh that we restore her dignity by removing them for her.

A few minutes ago the heat got to her and I heard a little sighhhhh as she plopped on the carpet near my chair. This is the sight that greeted me.........

Who's a good little hovering up girl, then ??!!!

Watch The Birdie

2012-01-25T16:02:00.005Z

I've noticed a bit of "doom and gloom" creeping into my posts of late and I'm not 'aving it.

No, no, no.

I'm in sunny Florida in January and most days it's over 80F outside. Those facts alone should banish all thoughts of gloom.

But then I am in Buttonwood Bay so maybe a bit of doom is warranted !

Anyway, I went for my walk yesterday and after a little rest at the Cafe by the Lake where I may or may not have refuelled myself with a burger deluxe ( the deluxe meaning it came with lettuce, tomato and onion....oh wait, sorry.....with lettuce, tom-aye-to and onion ), I moved on to the edge of the lake and sat on a swing seat contemplating life and its great mysteries.

As usual I had my trusty compact camera with me and after a while, the local wildlife worked out I posed no threat and closed in to pose themselves !

I quite like this shot of the bird with the very photogenic pier in the background or the pier with the very photogenic bird in the foreground. Whatever. As it was almost a silhouette, I was tempted to 'make' it a black and white shot but decided there was just enough colour to leave it alone.

After sorting out world hunger and poverty and solving the Eurozone crisis by deciding Greece needed to be nuked asap, I got up and walked along the channel that leads off the lake and where all the boats are docked. This is also where most of "our" regular wildlife can be found as many of the residents simply fish from the back of their boats without either ever needing to expend energy by actually going out onto the lake.

All these birds have names but I have enough problems remembering human names without getting into bird ones !

Here is a close up of Fred. Not likely his real name. It's probably Mitt. Or Newt. Not Bubba though.

That'd be silly.

Fred was in the water at the edge of the channel, patiently waiting for a caught fish to be tossed his way. We engaged in a bit of basic line dancing for a while; I'd slowly approach him and he'd slowly wade away. I'd retreat and he'd return to his starting point.

That pretty much sums up line dancing for me although I fear I've made it far more exciting than it really is.

Before we were asked to get a room, I stopped the dance and settled where I was to take this close up.

The background is a bit distracting but as he was down the bank below the level of my feet, the water was the only background available !

The problem with carrying a camera on my park walks is that although I see loads of photo worthy views, I know I've taken them all before. Oh I might be a few inches away from where I was on a previous occasion but really, how many photos of the place do I need ?

Maybe I should go up the road to Disney World, Universal or Sea World and vary my photos a bit.

For now though, you'll have to settle for an unknown bird, a pier and......Fred.

A Death "In The Family"

2012-01-25T00:00:00.002Z

In the past, I've jokingly called Florida God's Waiting Room and as such, Buttonwood Bay would be positioned very near the door. Given that there are about 1800 seniors in here, the sad fact is that hardly a week goes by without one of that number exiting that door.

The internal roads don't have a bike lane....they have an ambulance lane !

Lets put it this way: when you are told that so and so has gone North for good, it doesn't necessarily mean they've left the park and returned to Michigan or Canada !

Sometimes it does though and so sometimes that news can be ambiguous.

Great is the pull of grandkids and great grandkids upon the emotions of this community. Many residents do leave as they miss their families so much and that is very understandable despite the use of email, Skype and cell phones to keep in touch. None of those can make up for missing out on precious moments with little Mitt, Bubba or Newt !

I know of some friends here who are leaving as soon as their houses sell as they just miss their grandkids so much and more to the point, vice versa.

Of course human nature being what it is, we all expect them to be back down again once those same grandkids have driven them to distraction. The idea of seniors being with kids is often a lot different from them actually BEING with kids. After a few years of being here playing cards, baking cakes and taking gentle strolls alongside the lake, it's a bit of a shock to have screaming grandkids in your face day in, day out.

So anyway, those people ARE leaving the park to go North and are doing so under their own steam, so to speak.

But I currently know of a couple of residents who are really making the journey North for the last time. One will be in an urn and I'm not sure about the other one yet.

When someone you know suddenly drops dead, it tends to put many things into perspective. It's certainly a much bigger incentive to go on that diet or step up the exercise than having a big crystal ball drop in Times Square. I've never been one for making New Year Resolutions as it's always been someone or something that has caused me to 'do something different' in my life. Certainly not a calendar date.

And I have a few extra issues to worry about if it happened to me here. I'm a stranger in a strange land, remember. What to do with my body ? Who to inform and how ? Have I insurance cover to pay for everything on this side of the pond ? What are my wishes ?

Actually that last one is easy. I don't want to die. Ever. Ok ?

And despite having hospitals and medical centres up the ying yang here in Sebring, it seems that anyone with a condition other than a cough gets airlifted to Tampa at a cost of $10k. Far be it for me to suggest that this is down to the US medical system but I find it hard to understand that a town with a population of over 10,000 (which increases dramatically in winter when we "snowbirds" arrive), 28% of whom are 65 and over, hasn't got the medical facilities to deal with the after effects of something as common as a heart attack !!

But wait. We have a helicopter service that will whisk such patients to Tampa....for $10k thank you very much.

So what can we learn from all these barely related and mostly depressing facts ?

1) If you feel a heart attack coming on in Sebring, drive like crazy to Tampa.

2) Make sure someone knows what to do with your body if you don't make it.

3) Never use the expression "they've gone North for good" in this park.

4) Grandkids and Skype were made for each other.

5) Mitt, Bubba and Newt are just silly names.

Right, I'm off out for a Bigmac, large fries and coke. But with the Sebring chopper probably hovering over McDonald's, I'll order a diet coke and no pickle on the burger.

And hold the urn !

When Two Worlds Collide.

2012-01-20T16:24:00.003Z

If you read my previous post, you'll know I've just started reading "The Hobbit."

But from the opening line, I've had a very peculiar in-head sensation which just won't go away.

I'm calling it Postgate-itis because the effect is as though I'm reading the book as if it was being spoken by Oliver Postgate ! Very bizarre but stick with me on this..........

Oliver Postgate was a British writer, animator and puppeteer (1925-2008) who created and narrated some of the best children's stories ever to grace UK tv screens when I was growing up.

Ivor The Engine, Bagpuss, Clangers and Pogles' Wood were all his creations and Bagpuss was voted the most popular children's television programme of all time.

He also created and narrated my particular favourite, Noggin The Nog, and this is what is coming into my head when I read The Hobbit.

Postgate's voice mesmerised me as a child. He was to narration what J.K. Rowling has been to wizards. He brought the stories to life for me and back in the day, his little cut out characters that jerked their way across beautifully drawn backgrounds laid the foundations for animations to come, including South Park.

I shouldn't mention South Park in the same breath as the creations of Oliver Postgate as by and large, his stories were as gentle as South Park's are aggressive.

Despite being set in a Viking type era complete with dragons, flying machines and talking birds, Noggin was a good natured King of the Northmen and the stories always had happy endings. As a child I remember the 'baddies' had large pointy noses and chins so that there was no doubt that they WERE baddies. Even today I never trust people with large pointy noses and chins.

Maybe this is why I have issues with Bruce Forsyth and to a lesser extent, Jay Leno !

Mind you, it helped when these 'baddies' had names like Nogbad the Bad.

Well I never said it was subtle and we children of the 50's needed all the help we could get.

There aren't many tv shows from the 50's that would enthral children these days but I think that Postgate's stories and the animated shows were so timeless that they would still be popular today. Sadly kids are now being fed a diet of fast action shows with such tight edits that a 2 second burst is deemed too long. In fact all tv is like that now. Watch any commercial or action show and if a scene lasts more than a couple of seconds, they assume the audience will switch over.

Previews of upcoming movies are the worst for this. They cram in all the nonsense about what critics are saying about the movie and how they are already calling it 'the best movie of the year.'

Not much of an accolade when we're in the 3rd week of January !

Meanwhile, we're being assaulted by one second bursts of the best action clips, so fast in fact that they are borderline subliminal. And finally we get to when the movie is due to be released but those words are lost to the human ear as they are spoken by the same guy who tells us in 5 seconds about the possible side effects of every medicinal product advertised on tv.

"Possible side effects include......blah......blah......blah......death.......blah......blah....blah."

So I think modern kids should be introduced to Noggin The Nog and the other creations of the brilliant Oliver Postgate. They'd be transported to magical lands full of colourful characters and best of all, given the time to let their own imaginations fill in any gaps.

A child's imagination is a wondrous place which can only be improved with characters like Noggin, Bagpuss, Ivor and even a few Clangers.

Trust me. The memories of them will last a lifetime.

So have a watch and more importantly, a listen to this video clip from a later episode when they were produced in glorious colour. Then think of hearing that voice as you read The Hobbit.

Bilbo Baggins.....meet Oliver Postgate.

The Story So Far.............

2012-01-19T21:50:00.004Z

I'm a modern kinda guy. Love new tech stuff and all that. Can't afford most of it, but love it all the same.

When ebooks came along, I embraced the idea. I could download and read books on my laptop.

Awesome.

Of course despite being pretty portable, it's not easy to curl up in bed with a laptop and mine got particularly cumbersome when its battery pack died and it became a mains powered device only ! Beds and cables do not mix well.

Then I got a smartphone and the Kindle app and suddenly I was in heaven. Well ok in bed actually where I do most of my reading but now with a much smaller hot throbbing device with me.

(You people make me sick !)

Anyway, as I'm tight and wanted only free books, I was mostly restricted to the classics. This turned out to be a good thing as I discovered I'd not actually read most of the classics I thought I had read. Seems I'd watched the movies but not read the books ! For shame.

And so, over the years, I've worked my way through Treasure Island, A Tale of Two Cities, Dracula, Great Expectations and so on. Brill......and there are plenty left to get through.

Now reading a book on a smartphone is all well and good but the screen is a tad on the small side. If I could afford a tablet, that would be better but of course they are bigger than books so why bother ? Well you get a bucket load of books on one tablet so that would be reason enough.

But I haven't got a tablet so the point is a moot one.

I love that word.

Moot.

Mooty.

Mootiest.

Mootfull.

Moving on.

So last night I finished another classic on my smartphone and really didn't fancy starting another. I fancied a book. A proper paper book. I went looking on the shelves. Bookshelves.

I came upon a paperback version of The Hobbit and despite the cover being curled and the pages being more yellow than white, I took it to bed with me like a treasured friend.

Whoa. Dammit, that didn't come out right. Oh well.......

So after taking my pills (the only tablets I can afford) and lying on the bed so the ceiling fan could cool me down, I started reading this 1974 printing of The Hobbit.

Chapter 1

"In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit."

I was hooked immediately but I have to admit, the image of Bilbo Baggins going into his des res hill house at the start of Lord of the Rings popped into my head. A bit different from a simple hole in the ground which is what I'd have been imagining if I'd never seen the movie.

So already the movie of the NEXT book was forming images in my mind and on it went. As the book in my hand described the layout of this 'hole' with all its twists and turns and furnished rooms, I was so there. So there in the movie version of the 'hole' that is. A very Hollywood hobbit 'hole'. Lovely wood everywhere, fitted kitchen, luxury fixtures and fittings - so much so that if you'd stopped off at the concession area for popcorn and a drink and arrived in the theatre after Bilbo had entered his 'hole', you'd have thought he was in a modern apartment in Manhattan !

This brings up the whole can of worms that is.....movie first or book first ?

The only time this applied to me was with The Sum Of All Fears by Tom Clancy. I'd bought the book at an airport store for reading on a long flight and then saw the movie on tv some years later. That was enough to tell me never to do that again. Bits cut out, bits added, characters removed and new ones inserted.

No, for me its either/or.......but not both.

Hmmm if this blog post had a point, I seem to have forgotten it. Lost the plot, you might say.

Oh yes, paper books versus electronic books.

Well unlike with books versus movies based on those books, I'm coming down on the side of.......both.

Both have their place and obviously if you want to have reading material for a 6 month holiday you'll want an ebook device or risk a hernia and excess baggage charges with all those books.

But now and then there is nothing like reading the real thing. The smell alone is worth it. I'm not sure what Bilbo's 'hole' smells like (dammit again) but reading about it has come to life already in this well thumbed 1974 edition of the story. Slighty musty with a faint aroma of sweaty feet.

Well I did say I was lying on top of the bed so those were probably mine.

Now would that have happened with an iPad ? I think not.

My Dad - The Centenarian

2012-01-16T22:54:00.005Z

My dad was born on January 16th, 1912 which makes today his 100th birthday.

Happy birthday dad.....wherever you may be !

I say that because he died in 1986, when he was 74 and I was 34.

Some of those ages and years surprised me when I thought about them today. See, I never thought of my dad as old. He never looked it. I realise that these days, 74 isn't THAT old but he had a youthful face. He was also very active. Not in a keep fit, sporty way as he had no time for such things.

Dad worked just about every waking hour. He had his regular job with a painting/decorating company and then did private jobs in the evenings to bring in the money needed to get two sons through boarding school. My mum did about 3 low paid jobs as well AND we took in the occasional lodger.

With all that going on, how come we weren't rolling in disposable income ??!! But we weren't.

Dad was a great painter and decorator but he barely charged more than he'd paid for the materials. This made him very popular but never made him much money. That was just how he was.

We barely got by with both my parents working their socks off from dawn till dusk. This upbringing, although we boys never really knew how many sacrifices were being made for us at the time, forged my attitude to money in that I've never bought what I couldn't pay for up front; I've never been in debt and I've always been a saver.

Dad was a kind, gentle man who never raised his voice and if we did something wrong, he showed his displeasure by telling us he had obviously failed as a parent. Man was that a powerful guilt giver. To this day I still remember how terrible I felt about misbehaving in church after getting one of those speeches from him. To think I'd let down this wonderful man was almost more than I could stand and led me to berate myself for my actions more than any punishment could do. When it came from my mother too, oh my God. Both barrels at once ? I felt so low I was under the belly of a worm that was under the belly of another worm.

I donno if dad had a happy life. It was certainly a hard life but we had lots of fun too. He loved my mum more than life itself and vice versa. How she lived on for another 16 years without him was anyone's guess. Within the family, most money was on weeks, not years.

That's not to say she ever forgot him, not for one second. She wanted to be with him but wasn't going to help the process along in any way. She was too much of a catholic for that. But as she approached 80 and her health had failed so much that she had to go into a home, she wasn't going to hang about any longer. Not wanting to be a burden on anyone, it was no surprise then, that within a few weeks of entering the home, she slipped away to be with dad.

Dad didn't want much out of life. He was a simple man who lived without luxuries and never sought them. He didn't leave a rich legacy of sage quotes but rather, left his life itself as a testimony to the man he was. He also left me with indelible memories of a man at peace with himself and with a firm belief in his faith. He loved his God, his wife and his family above all else.

And his God, his wife and his family were all the better for that love and that life.

I just wish I'd told him that more often.

Happy birthday dad.

From One Island National To Another...........

2012-01-12T15:33:00.003Z

Despite it being 'owned' by France, I've suddenly become very fond of a small island in the Indian Ocean called Reunion. It's had several names over the centuries, as often happens with small islands in the Indian Ocean but for now, it's called Reunion.

Yesterday, someone from that small island (in the Indian Ocean) put in a Google search for a description of tangelos and up popped my blog post from this time last year. He (or she) got a very informative post about tangelos and I got my 142nd visitor from a different country.

The island is only 39 miles long x 28 miles wide but has a population of over 800,000. Its closest neighbours are Mauritius, 120 miles to the NE and the much larger Madagascar 450 miles to the west. Of course we all know that Madagascar is full of funny animated animals, many not exactly indigenous to the island including a lion, a giraffe, a hippo and a zebra. Sightings of several penguins have been reported but conservationists remain sceptical.

So anyway, thank you, Reunion Islander. How are things in the Indian Ocean ? Damp ?

On that topic, Reunion does hold a world record though. Two in fact.

Between 15th and 16th March 1952, the town of Cilaos 'received' 73.62in of rainfall, the greatest 24hr precipitation total ever recorded on earth. And the island also holds the record for the 72hr total in March 2007.

I guess what we must take from these facts is......never EVER visit Reunion in March !!

Oh and for all those interested, clearly I cheated death again last night. And I woke with my spleen intact. Win, win.

To Sleep, Perchance To Dream ?

2012-01-11T13:53:00.003Z

Well I woke up this morning...........

(Sing the rest of the various songs that start with those words if you like but I'm just stating a fact.)

I woke up this morning.

Always a good thing to do if you want to get the day off to a good start and I try to do it as often as possible. NOT waking up prays on my mind a lot.

For as long as I can remember, which admittedly isn't long these days, I've had a fear of going to sleep and not waking up. Dying in my sleep in other words. I don't mess about with being in a coma or even worse, being alive but totally paralysed so no one knows I'm alive.

No, I just worry about dying. Always have. For as long as I can remember, remember !

This may be the reason for the 'night terrors' I experience from time to time. Thankfully rarely.

I'll wake up suddenly and jump out of bed to somehow prove I'm not really dead (yet) and then stand at the side of my bed feeling rather foolish and wondering what other people do at 3am.

I'm embarrassed enough when this happens in my own bedroom but when I'm elsewhere, the relief of discovering I'm not dead is compounded by the guilt of waking up the rest of the house with my shouting.

Oh I forgot that bit. I invariably shout out something as I exit the bed. Usually something vaguely related to not being ready to be dead....yet. I call it Thanatophobia Tourettis.

And before you try and Google that, I've just mixed Tourettes with the fear of death phobia.

So I lie in bed of a night, as we say in Yorkshire, and while most of me wants to fall asleep, part of me doesn't.....as it may lead to death.

Now most people, if given the choice, would be more than happy to "slip the surly bonds of earth" by dying in their sleep when their time is up. Ironically I'd be one of them.

So why the hell do I fear dying in my sleep ??!! Irrational ? Just a tad.

I partly blame tv. I've tearfully watched all those bedside deaths where friends and relatives come out of the woodwork to say what a great chap you are and how you'll be sorely missed. If I died in my sleep, I'd be robbed of those touching scenes !

It's no wonder I stay up so late every night.....well after midnight on most occasions. Logic tells me I could just as easily peg it in my chair whilst watching Two & A Half Men and if so, no autopsy would be needed. But I think statistics show that bed is the place to be if you wanna permanently avoid those 2.5 reruns.

"Died peacefully in his sleep" seems to be the popular way to go and I really need to embrace this concept and stop worrying about it. And my spleen.

My spleen ? Yes, indeedily.

I think a lot about my spleen too.

Again it's tv to blame. I've seen too many shows and movies when, after an accident, the victim recovers only to be told "we had to remove your spleen." It's a particularly popular result when a child is involved. "Jenny is fine, Mrs Papadopoulos, but we had to remove her spleen." This is usually followed by a flood of tears from the aforementioned Mrs Papadopoulos who is relieved that her precious Jenny is alive but slightly concerned that she may never again play the violin because of her missing spleen.

Greek tv can be so dramatic !

So what's a spleen then and why do we seem to cope pretty much ok without it ? And more relevant, why does it seem so easy to damage it in an accident ?

Everything from spilling coffee on yourself to surviving a plane crash seems to carry the risk of having your spleen removed. I think there is a Far East market for spleen soup or something. Maybe ground up spleen is an aphrodisiac. Certainly surgeons seem to whip them out without so much as a by your leave. Maybe it's useful as a teaching aid !

"You need to hone your surgical skills, Patterson. Here, take this patient in cubical 10. Ingrowing toenail. Off you go and whip out his spleen."

Never your appendix though. Oh no, that useless organ is damage proof. It'll survive any accident totally unharmed. You could lay it out on the kitchen table and whack it repeatedly with a meat tenderiser and that damn organ would carry on doing......well whatever it does.

" Jenny is fine, Mrs Papadopoulos, but we had to remove her appendix. "

" You did WHAT ? OMG my poor little girl. Why didn't you just let her die ? "

Of course the spleen performs a valuable role within the body. It's just that with all the current medical knowledge at our disposal, no one quite knows what that role is. Something about red blood cells and the immune system but clearly nothing vital. We can live without it and this is just as well, given its propensity for keeling over at the slightest mention of 'accidental damage.'

Ok and you wonder why I don't sleep easily every night ! Jeez it's a wonder I can sleep at all. Forget the problems with the Eurozone and who will win Celebrity Big Brother, I have much bigger worries on my mind every night.

Will I wake up in the morning and if I do, will I still have a viable spleen ?

Great. Now I have an image of someone discovering my cold, dead body in the morning with a dirty great gash in my left side.........and an Asian looking guy in scrubs high tailing it down the street with my spleen in a Ziplock bag.

I don't think Lunesta is going to cut it tonight.

When Are Two Wheels Better Than Four ? NEVER !

2012-01-07T20:53:00.010Z

Yesterday, for the want of anything better to do, I decided to bike into town.

Now I like biking as it gets me around the park quicker than walking AND I get exercise. I love the feel of the wind through my hair and........

Ok I'll stop right there before I lose credibility altogether !

But I do like biking.

So as it was a little bit chilly, I donned my hooded fleece, slipped on my ENGLAND baseball cap to protect my bald pate from the sun and made sure the batteries were fully charged on my portable gramophone, or mp3 as you young 'uns would call it.

Within seconds, I was out of the park and on the backroad. As in, collapsed in a heap as I'd paused at the stop sign and fallen over ! Only kidding. I was out on Skipper Road with a 2 mile stretch ahead of me as straight as if the Romans had built it.

Flat too, but then all roads are flat here. That's why I like biking.

At the end of Skipper Road I crossed over onto Sparta Road which would take me all the way to US-27 and Sebring. I'd decided to set off at a leisurely pace and then, once warmed up, increase it to...a leisurely pace. If it's one thing I've learned about biking as I've gotten older, it's to pace myself. Start slowly and keep it that way. My days of explosive bursts of acceleration are long gone and anyway, they only tended to happen after cresting a steep hill and freewheeling down the other side.

When I was in my 30's, I once got to 38mph on a downhill near Otley. I also got a free facelift, several bugs in my teeth and shattered nerves when I realised that putting on the brakes at that speed would probably set fire to the rubber, rendering them useless. My whole life flashed before me, as did 3 astonished pedestrians, several birds devouring some road kill and the "No Trespassing" sign I totally ignored as I shot like a WMD into a field handily placed at the bottom of the hill.

Speaking of road kill, I was no sooner tootling along Sparta Road, when I came upon 5 or 6 vultures tucking into some recently deceased critter that I didn't feel the need to examine too closely. Not that there was much left TO examine but judging by the amount of blood splatter on the road (thank you CSI), it had been a critter of serious proportions.

One vulture was standing off to one side so rather than disgust you with a photo of his mates literally tearing into their lunch, I'd give you a photo of him. In case you are eating. Ever thoughtful, eh ?

Feel free to gasp at its awesomeness. Marvel at its majesty. Recoil at its ugliness !

Due in no small measure to stopping to witness this a la carte feeding frenzy, it took me 45 minutes to get to the end of Sparta Road and the junction with US-27, a distance of just over 6 miles. And I felt as fresh as a daisy.

Feeling that way, I should've turned around and rode back, but did I ?

I hate hind sight.

I peddled about for a while, riding into motel car parks trying to get views around the lake that I'd never seen from the car. Most properties around the lake are private houses but occasionally there are hotels, motels and businesses which didn't seem to mind an old Brit on a bike wanting to go to the edge of their land to get photogenic views across the water.

Not that I ever stopped to ask.

There was a beach ! Who knew !?

By now I was hungry and not having taken any water with me, very thirsty. But I was in Sebring. The metropolis. Bursting with restaurants, cafes, bars and fast food joints. Ok you try going into any of those with a bike and you'll see my dilemma. I realised that with everyone driving here, my bike was very unlikely to be stolen if left outside but with no security chain and being 6 miles from home with no phone, I wasn't about to put that theory to the test. It would be a long, long walk.

Fast food ? Surely that would be my best choice. In and out quickly and perhaps able to keep an eye on the bike whilst ordering and receiving my food ?

So I set off northwards on the excellent bike path that "runs" around the lake. The buildings on the far side were casting lovely reflections on the water but were too far away to be of much interest, photographically. Then I came upon a couple fishing from their speedboat and with them in the foreground, the background took care of itself.

On the other side of US-27 stood the imposing Spanish style Harder Hall hotel and I'd always wanted a photo of it across yet another stretch of water called Little Lake Jackson. To do this I had to cross 8 lanes and a wide median and not being near to any traffic lights, it took me sometime to achieve this.

I went into a dentist's office and asked if I could go to the side of the building to photograph the hotel and was granted permission. This view is what patients would see whilst in "the chair" and it sure beats anything I'm likely to see from my dentist's chair in suburban Leeds !

The very pink 134 room hotel was built in the mid 20's during the boom years in Sebring but since 1982, it has been lying vacant after a series of owners either went bankrupt or simply ran out of funds for its restoration. Despite being close to being demolished a few times, it was added to the National Register of Historic Places and was finally purchased by the city - who also don't know what to do with it !

I had to cross US-27 again to get back onto the bike path and then I continued northwards to find somewhere to eat/drink. I did realise these were miles I would have to endure on the way back but at the time, the daisy freshness was still upon me.

I stopped off at a Panera Bread outlet as I knew it had wifi and I could share my adventures with the Facebook world ! I posted this photo.

Onwards and northwards I finally called it a day at a Dairy Queen. I really needed something refreshing and yet light as the last thing I needed on the return trip was my stomach trying to digest a burger, fries and drink with my little legs pumping up and down at the same time. Not a good combination. I knew from previous visits to this DQ that I'd never see my parked bike from inside so I needed inspiration.

Knowing my bike would never trigger the "Welcome to Dairy Queen....may I take your order" weighbridge, I waited until a car was going through the drive thru and I followed it to the pay and delivery window. As the girl leaned out to give them their food, I asked if she could take my order ? She laughed and said of course so I ordered a cherry blizzard and as she passed it to me, her smile give my now aching legs the impetus to get me around the corner where I almost collapsed onto an outdoor chair.

The blizzard was like nectar to my parched throat and I rested there for some time, eating it slowly and savouring every spoonfull - although the view wasn't the most memorable.

Now despite what THEY tell you, it's not always a good thing to get back in the saddle. My butt was sore, my thighs were sore, my stomach was very cold and the last of the daisy freshness was but a distant memory. A bit like Buttonwood Bay, a good 10 miles southwards.

You'll not be surprised to learn that I took NO photographs on the ride back. If the camera had been mounted on the handlebars and looking back at me, I could've been the poster child for the Spanish Inquisition. I had to stop 4 times to rest and anyone seeing me getting slowly and painfully off the bike would've dialled 911 and asked for an ambulance with a hoist !

I'd set off at 11:10am and got back to the park at 3:30pm. The vast majority of that time my ass had been sitting, bouncing and generally rubbing the sides of a piece of torturous pseudo leather designed, I am convinced, by the Marquis de Sade. I'd ridden 21.63 miles and felt every .3 of it.

The good news was that from the waist up, I felt great.

Sadly, from the waist down, I couldn't feel much at all. My legs were on fire and my butt cheeks were probably as pink as Harder Hall !

But 24 hrs later and I'm happy to report that I rode around the park again this afternoon. Ok so it was more .63 than 21.63 but I was back 'in' the saddle and feeling good.

Now then, where's this Orlando place I hear so much about and do they have parking for bikes ?!

Getting Into The Grove !

2012-01-05T15:30:00.009Z

No that's not a typo in the header.........today's post is about me being in the 'grove' and not in the 'groove' but more of that later.

First up....SQUIRREL !!

Last Monday when it was still warm here, I was on Sebring's Harder Hall course playing my regular game of military golf (left, right, left, right up the sides of the fairways) and this time I'd remembered to take my camera with me. On previous visits, we'd been approached by squirrels (SQUIRREL !!) wanting some of our cheese nibbles so in return, I wanted a photo of them.

I'm no expert of course but I'm led to believe they were monkey squirrels, or eastern fox squirrels, or cat squirrels or even stump eared squirrels. In any case, here is a shot of the only one that stayed still long enough to BE photographed. Frisky little critters.

But back to the park and sticking with the wildlife theme, I braved the arctic temps and went for a walk yesterday afternoon. Along the canal path, the 'usual suspects' were out in the sunshine trying to stay warm but as I've posted many photos of them before, I'll just upload this one.........

Walking on around the edge of the lake, I came to the grove, a lovely tree shaded grassy area used for large outdoor gatherings. It's also next to the cafe, the horseshoe pits, the shuffle board and bocce ball courts and now, the newly constructed pickleball court.

Pickleball ? Oh just Google it !

Yesterday afternoon the grove was empty and with most of the wooden picnic tables stacked over on one side, it was much more open than usual and so the low sun cast particularly long shadows across the grass.

I wanted to take some photos towards the sun and despite the camera having a 'backlighting' option, I found it better not to use it. For one thing, it would pop up the flash, assuming I wanted to take a photo of someone or something in the foreground. This can be very useful if you want to photograph someone with a sunrise/sunset behind them as the camera basically takes two exposures so you end up with the sunset AND the person both exposed correctly. Otherwise the person would be a silhouette.

Another benefit of using a different camera setting yesterday was that I achieved much deeper and, I think, more appealing shades of blue from both the lake and the sky. Certainly more dramatic.

When not looking into the sun, the blues reverted to normal but there were still pleasing views to capture. I love the long straggly 'stuff' that hangs down from many of the trees and almost touches the water. I also tried to capture the peace and tranquility of the area as it really is a lovely spot to sit and ponder life's deep mysteries, even on a relatively cold day like yesterday.

Like why do Jonathan Ross and Conan O'Brian have tv shows ?

There was a sun lit pine cone on one of the few picnic tables set up near the cafe and as it contrasted well with the greens and blues around it, I felt it needed to be immortalised.

By now it was close to 5pm and even in the sun, it was getting a bit nippy. Being a tough Brit, I was out in a polo shirt and shorts but as you can see from this trio of walkers, few others shared my dress code.

It would be another hour before sunset but I couldn't hang around. Let's face it, it happens every day ! As you can imagine, and as you've maybe seen from previous posts over the years, the grove becomes a magical place at sunset. It might also be magical at sunrise but I don't 'do' those. A sunset over water is always photogenic and as long as some lone bagpiper doesn't turn up, I love watching sunsets through the grove and across the lake.

Yes getting into the groove in the grove is one of the many aspects of this park that brings me back every winter.

Btw, thank you to the Anguilla islander who became a blog visitor from 'my' 141st country. Readers from new countries, states, principalities and so on are being added VERY slowly now but all are welcome. I'm still hoping to add The Vatican but so far His Holiness has spectacularly failed to answer my emails.

Maybe I should try Skype.

Park Life In These Here United States.

2012-01-04T13:47:00.004Z

With only 7 blog posts in December, some people tell me I should post more often. I'm sure some also think I should post less often but I guess they know what to do !

My problem has been that I've never been sure WHY I blog. It was never intended to be a sort of daily diary as my life just isn't that interesting. When I go on trips to jolly johnny foreigner lands, it's quite a time consuming task to pick, edit and upload the photos and write text around them and so I lose a bit of interest after the first few days. You may have noticed a few European trip blogs have yet to be completed. Believe it or not, even no-trip posts can take me a while.

But I do have time I guess. And maybe I don't need to think that every post has to be a potential Pulitzer prize winner ! As if !!

So in an effort to get myself into a more regular post mood, I'll give this "what's going on in my life" angle a try and see where it goes. It may not always be pretty, but what the hell. If or when I reach zero viewers, I'll know it's failed.

If only the scriptwriters on Two & A Half Men could take such a hint !

So, a quick summary for new readers; I'm a 59 yr old Brit from Leeds, England. From 1989-2000, I took every work holiday I could touring the US and in that time, I visited every state except Alaska. Since I retired in 2001, at 49, I've been coming every winter to stay with my friends Debby and Dennis. They lived in Michigan but moved down here to Florida a few years ago and I've 'moved' with them ! We live here in a 'retirement community' park called Buttonwood Bay, a mile or so south of the town of Sebring in mid Florida and 90 miles south of Orlando.

The park is split between a 'manufactured homes' side with about 433 houses like we live in and an RV side which has a mix of about 536 'park model' trailer type homes and empty lots for any visitors who want to come with their motorhomes, trailers and 5th wheels for a day, a week or all winter. So when fully occupied, the park can have around 970 homes of one sort or another and assuming 2 people per unit on average, we can have a population of close to 2,000.

I've uploaded many photos from around the park on previous posts but here is a current one of the front of the house here.

Debby works in the sales office as there are always houses up for sale given the average age of the residents ! Dennis works on the maintenance team within the park and so most days, after they've gone off to work on their golf carts, I'm home alone with Pixie, their cute little 13 year old long haired dachshund.

All caught up now ? Good.

As I mentioned in the previous post, we're in a cold snap here in normally hot and sunny Buttonwood Bay (just south of Sebring and 90 miles south of Orlando) but it was only last night/this morning when it was supposed to get to the sub 32F level. Residents covered what trees, bushes and plants as they could as even a few hours of frost can kill them. Dennis harvested as many of the lemons as he could but left the oranges to their own devices. The potted herbs were brought inside.

All over the park, owners were doing the same and by nightfall, it looked like Christo had been at work !

This morning, my temp station showed the lowest temp had been 36.5F but as the outdoor 'probe' is close to the house, that may not have been the true low. Anyway that should be it as the forecast for the next 10 days shows temps climbing back to seasonal norms.

Due to the cold, there isn't as much outdoor activity around the place. A few well wrapped hardy souls will always walk in the early hours and I've seen two cyclists peddle by. But the park has gone into a sort of self imposed hibernation mode with the 2 swimming pools and the cafe being closed. A good time to catch up on emails, blog posts and quilt making !

Last night we watched the 2nd in the UK's Channel 4 series called Living With The Amish in which 6 English teens (3 boys, 3 girls) from different backgrounds come over to spend 5 weeks with a series of Amish families to learn their ways and participate in their lives. I'm fascinated by the Amish and have been ever since I saw Witness, the movie starring Harrison Ford. I even visited Lancaster County in PA when I was touring The States in the 90's and yes, I took a photo of the Intercourse town sign. You just HAVE to !

Our friends next door here come from that area and Carl is a Mennonite. His wife Jackie loaned me a book called The Riddle Of Amish Culture which is a bit of a heavy academic tome but is still full of interesting and informative facts.

I'd love to have seen the previous Ch4 series where some Amish teens went to the UK. In this follow up series, I was a bit worried that the selected UK teens would've shown the worst side of the UK.....being that they're all from the London area ! One girl had never had to lift a finger around the house so would find the Amish work ethic a shock. Another was a youthful feminist who certainly wasn't going to easily accept the woman's domestic role in Amish culture. The last was a worldly, party type who would probably find Amish life dull and repetitive.

It was a similar story with the 3 boys. Lazy, spoilt or unemployed.

So far the series has been a happy revelation as all 6 of them are embracing the Amish culture of early rising, hard work, simple pleasures and above all, community conformity. Gone are the electronic devices, differing clothes, makeup and jewelry and in has come a feeling of unity, teamwork and basic family values. I doubt any of the teens will rush home and want to set up an Amish community in London but hopefully they'll have learned a few simple lessons about an alternative lifestyle and take parts on board in their own lives.

Wow that was a bit of a plug for a tv series ! I hope someone at Channel 4 reads this and realises I'd appreciate a check in the post.

And here endeth today's diary entry ! Given that my 'skills' revolve around getting up late, sitting on my butt and surfing the internet, I think it's fair to say that I'm unlikely to be embracing the Amish culture anytime soon. I would've loved to have come from THAT town though so that when asked where I was born, I could repeat the name and then wait for the inevitable follow up question....

"No, I asked WHERE you were born, not.........."

The Four Seasons - Or 2012 So Far !

2012-01-03T17:27:00.005Z

Blimey it's only January 3rd and it seems like 2012 has been here for ages. I'm sure it's all due to the weather. Again.

On Sunday we did a bit of Spring Cleaning around the house. Cupboards were emptied, contents rearranged and then all put back again. The tv and furniture in the lanai were moved around to make viewing more practical and the new but temporary dining room table was set up and used at supper for the first time.

Yesterdsy, Monday, I was out playing golf in my usual polo shirt and shorts. Wait. I do wash them now and then. I was just giving some idea of the weather/temps here. Gloriously warm and sunny as befits the start of a new year in mid Florida.

So it was bye bye to Spring and hello to Summer.

Here is a bit of a dull photo I took just after 1pm on the approach to the dreaded 17th at Harder Hall. I'd already taken 2 decent shots to get to this point and the idea was to then lay up in front of the (unseen in this view) water hazard guarding the green. That idea went out the window at about the same time as my ball plopped gracefully into the hazard ! Score = 8.

Oh well, we had fun.

Later on yesterday evening I was watching Christmas ads on telle and with the temps dropping faster than the stock market, I again became confused about what time of year it was. I felt a bit less confused when the Christmas ads were down to us watching an old NCIS show from early December ! DVR's will be the death of me.

But today, 24 hrs after sweating on that golf course, I'm on my chair, huddled beneath a snuggle blankie and watching the occasional brave park resident walking by wearing more layers of clothing than Lawrence Oates when he left his tent. People are driving their cars to get their mail from their postboxes ! Palm trees have icicles on their fronds. An anhinga opened its wings 4 hrs ago and still can't get them closed ! This morning Debby sold 2 houses and an igloo.

It's cold, people. Cold. Stupid global warming.

Bye bye Summer and hello to Winter.

So I've "experienced" Spring, Summer and Winter this year already and if a palm tree could shed its fronds, then probably a bit of Fall too. It's no wonder the wildlife doesn't know what's going on. I'm sure I saw some Canadian geese going both ways yesterday !

Away from the weather, I've also been bravely suffering personal pain all year. I've got a hordeolum. Actually I've got two hordeolums. Or maybe one is a chalazia ! The hordeolum, or stye, was on the edge of the lower "eyelid" and the chalazia, or chalazia, is still on the inside of the same "eyelid". The one on the edge came and went within 24 hrs so I've been left with the nasty little hard chalazia on the inside which is really very painful indeed but as with man flu, I'm making light of it and suffering mostly in silence. I said mostly.

I'm sure they affected my golf game yesterday but probably not as much as my crap driving, crap chipping and oh yes, crap putting. It reminded me of the Q&A Luke Donald (I think) had on Twitter recently when someone asked him the easiest way to lower his usual score of around 100. Don't play the last 3 holes was his witty response.

I should've heeded that advice yesterday.

Finally back to the weather. The forecast is for a low of 27F/-2.7c at around 6am tomorrow morning before a gradual warm up to a much more seasonal 78F/26c by the weekend.

I may just stay in bed till then.

But before doing that, I'm off out the back to pluck a few oranges for a fresh drink.
By this time tomorrow, those remaining will be like cannon balls.

2011 - A Year In Review....Kinda.

2011-12-29T15:35:00.003Z

I'm going for the sympathy 'votes' today but doubt I'll get any.

Here in (normally) hot and sunny Buttonwood Bay in Florida, USA, we're experiencing a bit of a cold snap thanks to those naughty northern states (and Canada) sending their chilly winds our way. It dropped to 45F overnight and right now at 11am, it's a bone numbing 55F.

Yes, yes I can imagine the outrage from those of you who would LOVE to have 55F as a high but come on, this is NOT what I signed up for when I bought my plane ticket. In the Terms & Conditions it clearly said that it would be hot in Florida and it was on that basis that last August I handed over my hard earned pension for the next 5 years and bought an inside seat on that Virgin Atlantic plane.

It's so cold in here that I just now picked up my smartphone and it was like picking up a choc ice. I wonder if that means I'll be getting lots of cold calls today ?

(A bit of light humour to warm me up there)

But ever the optimist, it's dry, the sky is blue, the clouds are fluffy and it's to be 80F by Saturday. Hurrah.

After that, it'll be time for 2012. No I'm not going to watch the movie. I mean the year will be 2012. Sometimes the change to a new year takes a while to sink in but I think the move from 2011 to 2012 will be easy. Being retired (no work) and using online banking (no checks) means far fewer occasions when I need to even write down the year.

Then there is the act of saying the year. 2011 has 5 syllables if said as Twenty Eleven. 2012 has only 3. Rolls of the tongue smoothly. 2012. Twenty Twelve. Easy !

Well that's the New Year sorted. What next ?

I'm not into doing annual reviews at this time as they remind me a little of work appraisals which I used to dread. As an employee I never liked being told how I'd done the previous year and as a boss, I disliked even more telling others how they'd done. With salary reviews based on the outcomes, it was just much too stressful for me. Plus it was never nice having to smack my boss !

But I guess 2011 has been another decent year for me.

Travel wise I've had 6 months in America, 2 weeks in France and Spain, a week in Northern Ireland and a fair bit of exploring the beauty all around me in England. I can't remember stepping foot in Wales or Scotland so maybe they deserve a visit in 2012.

Health wise, no scares, although I do remember having a runny nose last May. Man flu, rickets and athletes foot were all avoided and I got no mozzy bites from May-Oct. Senility continued apace but apart from missing somesortof appointment with whatshisface at whereveritwas, I don't recall any other issues.

Money wise.......well we'll gloss over that heading. A little comes in but more goes out. Hey ho. All that travelling has to be paid for ! Maybe 2012 will bring me a sugar mommy. As long as next door keeps my house frost free during the winter and they don't spot the extension cable to their house in the summer, my utility bills should continue to be minimal and I'll put in a good word for them in the bankruptcy court.

I had clothes to wear, food to eat, water to drink and a bed to sleep on. I was safe from civil unrest, wars, uprisings and football hooligans. I experienced no tsunamis, earthquakes, hurricanes, tornadoes or snow. I wasn't in a flash mob, never listened to Lady Gaga, and until a week ago, was blissfully unaware of Tim Minchin. I never watched X Factor, any show with the word Dancing, Celebrity or Ross in it but I did 'discover' the shear delight that was "Gavin & Stacy."

Yes I should be thankful.

So apart from tv on both sides of the pond being pretty naff, no good movies to be seen in theatres and my footy team looking like they don't want to get to the 'Top Table' any time soon, I guess 2011 was ok.

If years had report cards, 2011's would've said "could've been better but on the whole, for a 5 syllable year, not too shabby."

(Note : those are only MY memories and experiences as of course I understand that for many thousands, if not millions around the world, 2011 has sucked big time and I don't mean to belittle the many awful and tragic events, both natural and man made, that have devastated them.)

Best wishes to everyone for a 2012 you'll remember for all the right reasons.

Me ? I'll just be happy that, come next December, I'll be able to remember any of it at all !

Btw, I've added a 'chat with me' widget over on the right of this blog so if I'm showing as online, feel free to say hi. Doesn't have to be a War & Peace chat...just a hi from anyone from the 140 countries that have visited the blog would be cool. Just be warned, I can only understand English so if you're from Newcastle or Liverpool or most US southern states (and Puerto Rico), my reply might take a while as I'll need to use Google Translate.

Heroes And Villains

2011-12-23T14:11:00.003Z

Mutter, mutter, splutter, splutter.

Well it may be the season of goodwill but that isn't stopping me needing to vent - but I'll try to make it short.

One of my many pet peeves is the overuse of the word 'hero' and once it was used to describe any player who scored a last minute goal, I felt it had been taken as far from its noble beginnings as it possibly could.

I won't go into other examples of its current trivialised use as there are many and it's so sad. Now before you have a pop at me, I know my definition of a hero is not what you may find in a dictionary but this is MY rant so there. For me, a hero is someone who is prepared to or actually does risk his or her life for others. There. That is all. A hero.

The reason for this outburst this morning is down to an article in my hometown newspaper, the Yorkshire Evening Post. The headline states : "Community Offenders To Clear Leeds Town Of Snow." Ok so far.

The first line of the article then says........Convicted offenders are to turn community Christmas heroes – and help clear a Leeds town of snow.

WHAT ?

Ok so we have a bunch of (probably young) convicted criminals who got a few hours of community service as part of their sentences. Probably all of their sentences if our pathetic justice system was involved. With snow possibly on the horizon, someone has had the bright idea to have them serve some of their hours of community work by clearing the snow from around Leeds. Fine by me. I'd have them in t-shirts, shorts and flip flops and chain them up together while they do it but that's just me.

But come on.......community Christmas HEROES ?!

I give up. It's a disgrace to use the same word to describe some thug who may have mugged a granny for her pension money as someone who may have rushed into a burning building to carry out an unconscious resident with no thought for their own safety.

I understand that our language is constantly changing and evolving and that the meaning of individual words can change over the years. Certain words can now be deemed offensive when decades ago they weren't. There is now a long list of words and expressions that we have to avoid using or the racist or PC police will be on to us, closely followed by the bandwagon brigade who love to jump on board when such words are uttered in public.

That's a different peeve of mine !

So that was it. A mini rant by my standards.....and by keeping it short, I hope you will applaud my heroic effort.

Is Vesta A Good Match ?

2011-12-21T17:01:00.003Z

I used to want to be an astronaut. Not a cosmonaut. Their rockets always looked well dodgy to me. Like they'd been put together by the lowest bidder and that bidder was affiliated with Meccano.

No, NASA was my team. That was why I got into IT from school and made a career out of it. Of course working for a supermarket chain and then IBM wasn't exactly rocket science (gettit...rocket...science.....never mind) but I think it helped me to better understand the technical complexities involved in 'sending a man to the moon and returning him safely to the earth.'

Oh who am I kidding ? I've no flaming clue how they did it. But if they ever wanted someone to help with their supply chain or payroll systems, I'd have been their man.

Despite never getting their call, I've always fiercely defended every manned mission from Mercury, through Gemini to Apollo and on to the Space Shuttle and the ISS. I've thrilled at the launches on tv, been fortunate enough to have seen a few in 'real life' and been up close and personal with a lot of the actual hardware that is spread out around museums in the US and beyond. I've even been inside a capsule.

Mockup, smockup. It was a capsule, ok !

But non manned missions ? Those I find very hard to fight for and it seems for most of them, the reasoning from NASA is always the same - to shed more light on the origins of the universe.

I'm not sure anyone really needs to shed more light on the origins of the universe. It happened a long time ago so let's move on. Big Bang or no Big Bang, what possible use will it be to know what happened ? It's like the origins of Strictly Come Dancing. Nobody really understands WHY it happened but we all accept we now have to live with it.

I know we're an inquisitive bunch. We're also explorers but unlike back in the day, we now have the technology to send machines out to do our exploring for us. But these machines, amazing and complex as they may be, can never replace a man walking around a new, distant location, picking up local 'stuff' and bringing it back for examination.

A bit like a wife sending her hubby to a flea market.

"What rubbish did you get this time ?"

"Look, dearest, some nice dirt, some pointy rocks and a thing that opens its mouth and another thing comes out......looking like your mother."

"You useless lump. Next time, I'm sending the Dyson."

Exploring foreign bodies is nothing new. Casanova was doing it centuries ago and if we've learned one thing from his exploring, it's that you can return with more than you bargained for. So by all means use machines to 'go in first' and do the initial recce. Saves time, saves money and possibly saves a trip to the CDC.

But if the sole purpose of a NASA mission is to find out more about the origins of the universe or even our solar system, then like a lot of people, I lose interest. Worse still, I have no interest TO lose and I find myself jumping on the 'waste of money and resources' bandwagon.

These flyby missions where they get all the way to a planet (or moon or passing comet) and take photos or scoop up gases (if humans went, the gases might be a lot more interesting) don't exactly get my geek juices flowing the way the Apollo missions did.

On a side note, when I read about the latest robotic interplanetary pooper scooper breaking down or going AWOL after a landing, I become more and more impressed by the success of those Apollo missions when NASA used the all the computing power of a calculator to get 12 men onto the moon and, more amazing still, got them all home again. Ahh the glorious 60's. Anything was possible - especially if you had a Hollywood soundstage, tons of sand and a gullible world audience with low spec b&w televisions.

Kidding. Really.

Just today I read about the latest of these "what's it all about" missions. NASA has released photos sent back a week ago from its Dawn spacecraft on its low level mapping orbit of the giant asteroid, Vesta. Ever heard of Vesta ? No ? Me neither.

The mission's main objective is to take low level photos of Vesta and its neighbour, Ceres, two protoplanets in the asteroid belt between Mars and Jupiter.

Is this an educational blog or what !?! Shuddup and stay awake.

With the photos and report, came this paragraph which formed the whole reason for this post today.

"At this detailed resolution, the surface shows abundant small craters, and textures such as small grooves and lineaments that are reminiscent of the structures seen in low-resolution data from the higher-altitude orbits. Also, this fine scale highlights small outcrops of bright and dark material."

Stunning report. Hell I could've told them that without leaving my armchair ! What did they expect ? Lush pastures ? Crystal clear lakes ? ET and his friends waving at the camera ? Just reposition the bloody Hubble telescope ffs and get the same photos ! Clearer. Cheaper. In colour.

By looking at and analysing these photos, maybe mankind's knowledge of the origins of the solar system will improve. Do most of us care ? Probably not.

Now if NASA sent a Bruce Willis led team to land on Vesta and do their thing, then I'd be interested.

But I'd still be suggesting to NASA that they take a Dyson. There is no messy bag, its filter system is awesome and that ball idea would be brill at getting around the rocks.

"That's one small sweep for a man, one giant cleanup for mankind."

Armstrong, eat your heart out mate. Mine makes sense.

Ho Ho Not So Much

2011-12-19T21:57:00.003Z

T'was the Monday before Christmas, when all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a gator.

Seems to be missing a bit of poetic rhyming there, don't ya think ? Accurate though. I've never seen a mouse here in sunny Buttonwood Bay but I've seen lots of gators. Not in the house, I need to add quickly. At least none I've seen. Who knows what critters come in ( and thankfully leave again ) in the wee small hours !

So this is Christmas week.

Back in the day, we used to say it was so many shopping days till Christmas but with the advent of everyday shopping and then t'interclacker, we might as well just revert to how many actual days are left till Christmas. Or the holidays. Oh hell, I'm not getting into THAT discussion again.

So it's 6 shopping/actual days till Christmas or 5 if you're in Australia or 7 if you live in a city with shops open on 25th. Fancy buying a few last minute gifts on the day itself ? Absolutely. Plenty of places are open after all.

Mind you, the gift may have to be a lukewarm pancake from IHOP or a bunch of slighly mouldy chocs from the gas station but hey, it's the thought that counts and what better thought is it than to have bought the present on Christmas Day itself ? Well ok a pretty crappy thought I guess. A last minute tthought. A 'oh crap he bought me a present so now I have to buy him one' thought.

We do the same with Christmas cards, don't we ? Yes we do and don't you pretend to be all high and mighty and tell me you don't do it. We dutifully send out our batch of cards trying to remember who died during the year and bless the savings. Of course we might've made new friends but are they close enough yet to warrant a card ? Oh dear it the wedding invitations fiasco all over again. Who do we risk upsetting ? Did Aunt Maud die or was that two years ago ? When are kids old enough to get their own cards ? Who gets the good individual cards with all the glitter and decent rhyme and who gets the 50 for $2.50 charity cards made from recycled paper and with the dubious unseasonal limerick ? It's very stressful.

And we can't sit back and relax even after the cards have gone out. Oh no. We have to hold some blank ones back for the late arrivals, don't we ? A few cards arrive in this week before Christmas and we fly into a card panic. Who the hell are Bill and Mavis ? Why don't these people use return address labels ? I don't know any Bill and Mavis. Wait, were they the smokers we tried to avoid on the ferry to Calais last summer ?

Well I donno where they live so sod 'em. He stank of ciggies and she stank of Eau de Kyle Minogue so yes, sod 'em.

It may come as a shock to learn, but I'm not a party animal. Never have been, never will be. I can't imagine the stress involved in holding or even going to several parties over Christmas. All that false bonhomie. People standing around talking about this or that and really all the men want to do is get upstairs with the host's au pair or drink all their plonk, eat all their food and go home pissed as a newt and stuffed as a pig. I've no idea what the women want to do but I'm sure it involves clothes, jewelry and discussing I'm A Strictly Come Dancing Celebrity On Ice, Get Me Out Of This Jungle....Idol.

I can't play the cross talking game either. You know, when there are so many people at a table or in a group that multiple conversations open up. I'm there frantically trying to work out which conversation I might find remotely interesting but end up not wanting to listen to any of them and wishing I was at home in my slippers watching reruns of Family Guy with a beef in ok sauce and a Pepsi Max. I'm easily pleased !

I know I'm not very sociable. Given the choice I'd nearly always want to be on my own. Which is just as well as that's mostly how it works out !

So Christmas is a bit of a 'challenge' for me really. But it's not a case of me being all bah humbug about it. It's just that I don't enjoy being in a crowd of people and as the numbers increase, so do my anxiety and discomfort levels. A few friends....ok. Maybe 5 or 6. Anymore and I know I'll be spending an evening listening. Maybe I'll answer a request for what I'd like to eat or drink but mostly, I'll be just listening. It's what I do.

Putting aside religious beliefs, they tell us Christmas is for kids....and families getting together. Partly through choice, I have neither. My bed and I'm sleeping in it.

It rarely makes me sad but I do admit that, thanks to tv ads mostly, I feel that I've missed out. I know I've missed out. I'll never be called dad, daddy or f*** off, you're not my REAL dad. I'll never know what it's like to have a small child run towards me without thinking it's entrapment. I'll never be able to have a teenager on my lap without entering the priesthood.

But that's the way my cookie has crumbled and there is always an up side. I know I'll be able to get an individual Christmas pudding from the local gas station on Sunday and if that doesn't fill me up, there is always the chance of a pancake.

When it comes to being thankful at Christmas, I'm sending my thanks to BP and IHOP.

A Weighty Post

2011-12-16T17:43:00.003Z

For the last 11 years, each winter I've swapped snow showers, freezing temps and 7 hours a day of gloom for palm trees, swimming pools and over 10 hours a day of blue skies.

No SAD for this Brit. Oh no, no, no.

After my 2nd heart attack a few years and then being diagnosed (I think incorrectly) with pre diabetes in October, I need these long days of pretty much guaranteed sunshine to encourage me to get out walking, cycling and swimming. I do NOT need diabetes in my life.

Ok before anyone else "outs me" I admit I really do very little of the first two and none at all of the last one but still, I COULD do them if I wanted to and that's the point. I just choose to be as lazy here as I am in Leeds but the views from my chair are much better !

And that alone has to be good for my health.

Actually I must be doing something right as I stepped on the scales this morning and woohooo, I've lost 6 lbs since getting here. Of course it would've been even more if I'd not had the steak and ribs combo at Outback Steakhouse last night. Hey, who are YOU to judge ME ?!

It doesn't seem that long ago that I was a skinny youth, always having sand kicked in my face. Quite bizarre really as Leeds is 70 miles from the nearest beach. I wore pants with a 28in waist well into my 30's and now a few inches have been added to my girth (shaddup), I'm in danger of bypassing L and entering the realms of XL, XXL and even XXXL. I already get my tops handmade by sail makers and not tailors. I last saw my feet in 2007 and I only know how much I weigh as digital scales thankfully retain the display for several seconds after I get off them.

This does have one benefit as I never get to see the first display that states (rather uncharitably I feel) "One Person At A Time."

It's coming up to a New Year when many of us make resolutions to do all sorts of things differently and then by the 2nd week in January we all say sod it and return to the status quo. No doubt I'll be telling myself to buck up my ideas; get fit, lose weight and live longer.

The problem is, that last one isn't entirely guaranteed to result from trying the first two. In my case they HAVE to at least help. I've had two pretty obvious warnings and if getting out into the warm sunshine for daily walks and bike rides and yes, even dipping this pale obese body into a swimming pool helps, then I should heed them.

Lets face it, it could be a case of third strike and I'm out.

And what excuses do I have anyway ? This park is as flat as the rest of Florida which is very flat indeed. If there were no buildings in the way, I could see Georgia. It's THAT flat. So walking and cycling are a dream.

The park has 2 heated, yes HEATED, swimming pools and the larger one is so close I could throw a small child into it from this chair.

So come on, me. Never mind waiting till January 1st and making it a New Year's resolution. Get out walking, cycling and swimming now. There's no time like the present. Strike while the iron's hot. Never put of till tomorrow blah, blah, blah.

I'll just have lunch first. Then a nap. Then it'll be supper time, a bit of telle and bed shortly after.

I'll start tomorrow. Oh wait, I'm golfing. And anyway, who starts things on a weekend ?

So Monday it is then. Oh wait I'm golfing on Monday too. So Tuesday. Yes Tuesday should be fine. Oh wait, I'm going to the Sebring Yacht Club to be fitted for a new t-shirt on Tuesday.

Hmmmmm.......I think January 1st sounds perfect !

2011 Christmas Golf Cart Parade

2011-12-13T13:31:00.012Z

Yesterday evening we had the annual Buttonwood Bay Christmas Golf Cart Parade (BBCGCP), postponed from Sunday evening due to inclement weather.

I KNOW ! In (normally sunny) Florida ! Well it happens sometimes.

Yesterday was also a bit overcast with threats of showers but the brave souls of BB went ahead and their courage was rewarded with nothing worse than dull skies and a few spits of rain at one point.

Hurrah.

First up, I have to say BB is infamous for timekeeping. Few things here start on time and mostly they start well before time. The cart line up was due to begin at 5pm and the parade was due to start at 5:30pm but at 5:10pm it set off, and caught me completely flat footed........and with only half the carts and participants photographed.

Hey ho, as Santa would've said.

Last year it wouldn't have taken me 10 minutes to photograph all the carts, the turnout was so low. This year was different with over 20 carts and trailers all displaying a very high standard of decoration. These are golf carts remember. They aren't built to be decorated and have minimal parts for actually attaching anything of note - but did that stop Christmas themed decorations BEING attached ?

Hell no.

The BB residents have inspiration to spare and everything from full size Santas, moving reindeer, a tiki bar and Christmas trees were attached to these carts. Oh and a boat covered with Christmas lights, complete with a large blow up fish on a fishing line !!

Amongst the participants, there were a few Mr. and Mrs. Santas, an angel, a Rudulph and some elves. It was a whacky scene to be sure.

Then it was like the Le Mans 24 hr race back in the days when the drivers all had to run to their cars at the start. The lead carts moved off leaving huge gaps all down the line as people were taken by surprise and many were still standing around socialising. I ran along the line as best I could, taking photos of the now moving carts as I couldn't wait for them all to pass me as I needed to get to another point along the route to take video footage.

Then I jumped into our own cart and high tailed it to a junction point near the Community Centre where the carts would be turning a corner and I would be able to video them both straight and side on as they'd pass the camera.

This worked out fine until Mad Rudulph, the driver of the tiki bar cart, headed straight for me and so threw out my careful pre focus setup ! Revenge will be mine, Clair.

With the last cart heading off into the distance, I packed up the camera and in my haste, didn't manage to turn it off. So I have about 45 seconds of Blair Witch type footage showing jerky ground shots from acute angles as I walked back to the cart. At one point I meet and greet some parade spectators and a handshake can be seen; well it can be seen if you tilt your head at an angle guaranteed to have you in a neck brace for the next few weeks.

I sped off to the Rec Hall where the carts were parked up. After a bit of mingling, everyone (participants, spectators and other residents) all went inside to await the results of both the best decorated carts in the parade and the best decorated homes in the park. This gave me the opportunity to take photos of the now empty carts as all those with lights, were still lit.

It also gave me a chance to photograph some individual decorations which show the amount of thought and work that went into the parade; a chimney top santa on a cart roof, Christmas mats in a cart footwell and even a battery powered row of candles on a cart 'dashboard.'

Of course I need to highlight my friend's cart. Clair & Mary K and Dennis & Debby went with the inspired theme of "Santa on Vacation." It's the day after Christmas and Mr. and Mrs. Claus (Dennis and Debby) need to chill and relax with Rudulph and one of the Christmas elves who has worked so hard (Clair and Mary K).

So being in Florida, they designed their cart as a tiki bar with Rudolph driving, naturally (just not so good on corners !!), partnered by the token elf with Mr. and Mrs. Claus sippling drinks at the back and getting merrier by the second.

It had clearly been a long stressful season and after keeping her old man and his army of elves fed and watered whilst they packed, wrapped and delivered all those presents, Mrs. Claus deserved to let her hair down and relax with a few drinks from the bar.

By the end of the evening, the poor dear was showing the effects of tiredness as well as copious amounts of alcohol from the free tiki bar.

Bless.

It was a great parade and well done to all who worked so hard to make it so. From an inflatable fish on a boat to a Santa going down a golf cart chimney, the creative minds of a retirement park of seniors rivalled those of the more famous lot just 90 mins drive away at Disney World.

Congrats to the Buttonwood Bay Imagineers.

A Very Walton Christmas

2011-12-08T22:18:00.006Z

No this isn't another post about Walmart although God knows, going there always provides fodder for this blog. I donno what it is about that chain but it does seem to attract all the local nutters.

Anyway this post has more to do with those other Waltons, the ones who once upon a tv time lived in (not on) Walton's Mountain in Virginia and if you happen to recite all their names, for some reason you'll find yourself fast asleep.

Set during the first US Depression, folks then would make their own clothes, food and amusement and that last one may explain why they all had large families. Seems they were amused a lot back in the day.

Now that we're in the midst of a 2nd US Depression, where families have cut down on store bought clothes, only eat out 6 days a week and have to settle for a 60" LCD 3D TV for amusement, the expression 'home grown' only remains in folklore and on the USA Network channel.

But hold.......that is not true. No, no, no.

This morning Deb and my good self went a-shopping and ended up at a small farm store twixt Sebring and Avon Park called McCracken Farm Store which sold everything from veggies to ice creams, herbs to preserves, oranges to lemons and, naturally, palm trees to exotic birds.

Normal farm stuff y'know.

What a little gem it was too, run by a little gem of a woman who was presumably Lois, if the website is anything to go by. She wandered along the rows of wholesome goodies like a Floridian Gimli, although with less of a beard, no axe and nothing like as grumpy.

And what rows they were. Full of jars with appealing contents like plum jam, cherry jam and strawberry jam. Now those were the ones I would expect to see on any UK supermarket shelf but there were plenty of ones I would NOT expect to come across in the UK even if I went to M&S....maybe Harrods though. Maybe not.

I like anything to do with the Amish. I'm actually reading a book about them right now. Yes, yes so not RIGHT now as I'm typing this but you know. Currently. At night. In bed.

I've also seen Witness. Oh yes, Amish expert, me. Even been to Lancaster County.

Intercourse ? Been there, done that, got the baseball cap.

So I was delighted to see........

......and even though I didn't buy any, I liked the name. Black Buggy. Cute.

I'm still not sure about the seriousness of this last one but it made me laugh at least. Or groan. Or both. And having it wedged in a line of other more 'normal' jams only added to my feeling that the McCrackens had a sence of humour. Or humor.

And in case you want the ingredients -

It was all very "back in the day" and I half expected a little kid to arrive pulling his radio flyer wagon and picking up a home delivery of freshly picked tomatoes, oranges and strawberries.

When we left the farm store and tried to get to the northern part of Sebring, we discovered we were so far out in 'the boonies' that we couldn't get a GPS signal on the phone.

I think John-Boy would've approved.

Good night Waltons. Every one of you.

A Frog Went A Courting............

2011-11-29T13:56:00.003Z

Over the Thanksgiving weekend I was 'home alone' here in sunny Buttonwood Bay as Deb/Den had flown to the frozen North, also known as Wisconsin, to visit with family and to see their newest grand child.

On Sunday evening, in preparation for their return and in the knowledge that we'd all need coffee as usual the next morning, I rode the golf cart over to the park's water 'machine' to refill our gallon containers (ex milk jugs) and the large 3 gallon 'bottle' that goes on the cooler unit we keep for drinking water.

It was just after 6pm and darkness was falling. It's at this time when dozens of tiny frogs come out from wherever they spend their day (where DO they spend their day ?) and sit on the driveway waiting for something to happen to them. They sit and look very cute and then........they sit a bit more. When it gets too dark to see them, they probably all leap on each other and have rampant and violent sex but I don't know this for sure. It's one of those 'boiled kettle' kinda things.

"A watched frog never mates" or something along those lines.

The problem, mostly for the frogs, is that if we need to use the golf cart or worse still, for the frogs again, the car.....then sitting on a driveway is not the best place for them to be. I think Mother Nature has failed them in this respect as although sitting on a driveway makes it very easy to spot a potential mate, the downside is that it also makes it very easy for that same mate to become a flat mate. And I don't mean in a "moving in together" sort of way.

I mean in a "wow I fancy her and I think I'll hop over there and........offs" sort of way.

When I set off to get the water (and before you ask, yes we do have perfectly serviceable drinking water from the taps here but we prefer the 'treated' stuff that has all the nasty natural elements removed and replaced by totally unnatural elements instead !) the driveway was clear.

On my return, only about 20 minutes later, I encountered a scene of plague like proportions.

Biblical in fact.

There was simply no clear route to the cart's parking spot up near the outside power point as it needed to be recharged overnight. I stopped out by the roadside and tried to move a few frogs. This was no easy task as, in Maggie Thatcher fashion, these frogs were 'not for moving.'

I poked; I prodded; I failed. Miserably.

Short of actually lifting them and relocating them on the grass, they were obviously set for an evening of passion, froggie style, once we weren't looking.

So I moved a few onto the grass and managed to clear a path to the house. But by the time I returned to the cart, they'd hopped back onto the drive !

The next 5 minutes can best be described as a frog version of that spinning plate act we all saw back in the day. The performer, aided by his scantily clothed female assistant, would set plates spinning on a line of flexible poles and keep us all in a state of cruel anxiety by running back and forth along the line to keep the initial plates spinning whilst adding more to the end.

I do believe that watching this act during my formative years was fundamental to at least one of my heart attacks in later life. I'm convinced my heart was weakened by the stress I experienced never knowing if the very first plate would fall to the ground whilst The Amazing Plato was down the other end adding 'a plate too far.'

I always feared that the scantily clad assistant, having been refused a pay rise, would simply add an extra plate/pole to the act, thus ensuring that the initial plate would topple off its pole to loud gasps from the audience and mortification for the bemused El Plato. He would never be seen on tv again and be reduced to spinning the roulette wheel at Barnsley Working Men's Club on Saturday nights.

Anyway back to the frogs. Remember them ? Yes well as fast as I moved them to the grass, they'd hop back onto the driveway. In the end I had to get to the house in stages. I had to move a few frogs, dash back to the cart and drive it a few feet, stop before squishing any returning frogs, get out and move a few more and so on. It was slow progress but I'm happy to report that no frogs were hurt in the parking of the cart.

Sadly, unlike in a true fairy tale (oi, who am I calling a fairy ???), there was no happy ending.

Pleased with the success of my endeavours, I parked the cart by the house, climbed out.......and promptly stood on a frog.

D'oh !!!!

Black Friday And Decorated Golf Carts

2011-11-23T14:09:00.003Z

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving Day here in these United States and as Deb/Den are leaving VERY early in the morning to visit family in Wisconsin, I'll be 'home alone' in sunny Buttonwood Bay for a few days. Home alone with Pixie I mean.

Hope she likes turkey.

Based on the fact that I didn't trash the car the other day when I drove it for the first time, I'm being allowed to 'have it' whilst they are up in the frozen north. I'm already Mapquesting the route to Grand Canyon ! See previous post.

As well as being a semi decent movie, the day after tomorrow is Black Friday, the busiest shopping day of the year, if you believe the retail industry. Maybe that's the last Saturday before Christmas, which would be my guess. In any case, delusional, sorry, hopeful bargain hunters will rise on Friday at the crack of 2am, stand for hours outside the major stores and then run like Usain Bolt when the doors open to try and get to the big sale items which in reality were snapped up by the employees the day before.

So instead of the 55" LCD 3D Sony TV for $199 which is now residing in some pimply salesman's living room, they'll have to settle for a 37" Plasma Vizio for $499 which was the price last month. BUT as you'll get it on Black Friday it'll be a steal.....yes ?

Since the advent and growth of online shopping, Black Friday has had to be reinvented. Many deals can now be found online as well as in the stores and so only your fingers need to be awake at 2am. Seriously proficient multitaskers can remain blissfully asleep or even doing other things that adults do in bed whilst they max out their credit cards on items they don't really want but feel they need due to the deal prices.

But things change every year. Nowadays, there are online ONLY deals on Black Friday. And some stores start their deals at midnight on Thanksgiving. Others start in the week leading up to Black Friday. It's an evolving trend that may end up affecting the whole Nov/Dec retail period.

As I see it, next year Black Friday will be replaced by Black November which will start in late October. Thanksgiving Day will be merged with Christmas Day (to be named Thanks For Christmas Day) to give the endangered turkey population a chance to regroup and this will fall on the last Thursday in December so that workers can have a long weekend as no one will ever turn up for work on the Friday anyway.

As an aside, US citizens will be outraged when Facebook and Twitter messages announce that the White House plans to name their tree the "Thanks For The Holidays Tree." Snopes and Urban Legends will add to the storm of protest by finally going along with the scam by saying it's true. Very naughty.

There will be a new public holiday called Returns Day which will fall on the Monday AFTER Thanks For Christmas Day when people will get up at 2am to line up outside those very same stores to try and get their money back for all the items they bought in Black November and which are now on sale at even lower prices.

It's all good fun but Pixie and I plan on giving it all a wide berth this year. If she gets up at 2am on Friday, she's on her own !

Another approaching tradition is the Buttonwood Bay Christmas Golf Cart Parade which will start at 5:30pm on December 11th.

I only mention this event as from early November, my blog gets a dramatic surge of new visitors who have used any combination of 'cart' 'parade' 'golf' 'decorate' and 'Christmas' in a Google Search as my post from 2007 will pop up on the first page of the search results.

If I get some decent photos of the 2011 event, I will have to publish them in a new post as one has to be relevant you know and a post from 2007 is just so "back in the day."

Actually we're thinking about decorating our golf cart as a mobile WalMart store. Dennis will be the greeter, Debby will be the checkout lady and I will be the stressed returns guy, shouting obscenities at everyone along the parade route.

It'll be a sure winner in the Black November Thanks For Christmas Holiday Returns Day Buttonwood Bay Golf Cart Parade.

Dalai Lama, Disney and Jesus Christ

2011-11-22T14:57:00.008Z

As I sit here in my reclining swivel armchair, sipping my coffee and gazing out at the clear blue sky, I'm reminded of the famous Dalai Lama quote when he visited Disney World for the first time....."dammmmmmmm but this place is bitchin' ."

Well he COULD have. If he HAD visited. Who's to say ?!

Here in sunny Buttonwood Bay, it IS bitchin'. Glorious weather at least. I spent about 90 mins gently riding around the park yesterday. Or was it riding gently ? Whateva, it wasn't very taxing as I stopped often to take photos, mostly of the wildlife, as we have several resident birds here who will happily pose for me. And I don't just mean the senior citizens ! Hardy har har.

I know I've probably posted too many similar photos over the years so this winter I'll try and limit them to ones where the bird/critter is doing something a little different. Standing on one leg perhaps. Or no legs....although that might be classed as flying. But not when it's a rabbit. Could be a squirrel. They fly. Kinda.

Anywhichway, here are a couple of birds, in the water, on all their legs. Feeding.

I don't often photograph birds with their 'mouths' open. No comment !

And speaking of one leg, here's one.....photo....and one leg.

In other news (always wanted to say that), the work on the house finished last week and we now have a lovely extended roof to provide extra shade at the front and right side. The side shade is for vehicles and the front is for us.....so we can sit out and watch the world go by without the risk of skin cancer !

We can get the car and golf cart parked together under the extended side roof and this is great for keeping the sun off the car (which can damage the paintwork and ruin the tyres) and for keeping the morning dew off the golf cart which saves having to wipe it off the seats. It's the little things in life.....

Here is a panorama of how it looks now, so click and enlarge. DO IT, DAMMIT !

The golf cart is parked where it is in this photo as it was being charged at the time so needed to be close to the outside power point.

Last week 4 new homes were delivered to the park. They arrived on flat bed trucks and were located on sites previously used for short stay RV's. These basically empty park models then get fitted out with every imaginable convenience so they will be ready for rental.

Switching topics again and while I remember.....I went shopping on my own yesterday. Not usually a post topic worth mentioning but I've not driven here in these United States for a few years. In fact I believe it was in December 2006 when I rented a car and went to visit friends in Georgia. I've missed driving here ever since.

But we found out the other day that I was covered (insurance wise) to drive Deb/Den's car and so for the first time in almost 5 years, I was able to go into Sebring all on my ownsome and how liberating THAT was. Woooohoooo. I had brunch at The Diner and then a leisurely shop around Walmart.

Yes, yes I know. Not the stuff of dreams but small steps eh. Sebring Walmart yesterday, Grand Canyon next week ! I may struggle with that in one day but if I stick to the interstates, wear my 'bag' and pack sandwiches, it could just work.

Anyway I was glad it all came back to me, driving over here I mean, and I only fell off twice.

Finally, to end this rambling post, here is a photo I took of a painting in, of all places, a furniture store in Sebring. It's one of those paintings where a face makes up a scene or the other way round, depending on which you 'see' first. I couldn't take the photo straight on due to the store's ceiling lighting but you still get the idea.

Not something I'd ever want on my wall but interesting none the less.

And there you have it. What a post. From the Dalai Lama to Jesus Christ and all for free.

I really need to make this a subscription blog !

The Sands Of Iwo Jima........And More.

2011-11-13T19:36:00.012Z

After the sombre topic detailed in the last post, it's time for a much more light hearted one today - sand sculpting.

Yesterday we went across to Siesta Beach on the Gulf Coast near Sarasota to see The Siesta Key Crystal Classic, billed as a master sand sculpting competition. Because of its 99% quartz crystal sand, Siesta Beach is one of the finest locations in the world for sand sculpting.

I'd no idea my watch was made of sand. You live and learn.....and I must remember to keep it out of the shower !

We left at about 10am and made it to Lake Placid for breakfast ! Well it saved fixing it ourselves.

Then came the almost 90 minute drive westwards to Sarasota and a stop off for a bit of retail therapy. I went into a nearby pet store to watch the animals while Deb 'retailed.'

As we'd been advised that the car parks at the beach would be packed, we headed for a shuttle bus area at Phillippi Park where for $5, we were able to park the car and get a free shuttle bus to the beach and we arrived just after 2pm.

The shuttle bus let us off inside the beach main car park and we saw just how packed it was. New arrivals were just going round and round hoping for a spot to become free but without much hope. We'd paid $5 each before boarding the bus which got us wrist bands allowing us to enter the sand sculpting area so we could get up close to the exhibits.......which were still being worked on as it was a 3 day competition and all were works in progress.

The first sculpture WAS compete however and was a representation of the iconic flag raising on Iwo Jima back in 1945.

After that, we just walked around the other sculptures and tried to work out what they were.....not an easy task as most were a bit abstract or themed and being unfinished, were hard to decrypt. I just enjoyed them as glorified "sand castles" and it was cool to see the sculptors working on them with their specialised tools and fine spray water jets to keep the sand both moist and compact.

I'm not sure what this first one was going to be as no more sand could be added to the top. The sculptor seemed to be carving the torso into a castle turret so maybe it was to be 'the body of a castle' !!

Before showing more of the sculptures, here is a panorama of the area with my back to the water. The shadows on the extreme left and right of this 180 degree shot are from the advertising hoardings behind me which formed the fence keeping out those who didn't want to pay the $5 entry fee.

I'll just put up a series of photos of the various sculptures as I've no idea what any of them were meant to represent but that didn't diminish the time, effort and skill required to create them.

I did like the idea of the snowman though as standing on the white sand, the onlookers were the only clue that it wasn't built on snow.

I'd made the mistake of not taking a hat or even sun screen so my time on the open beach had to be limited. There actually weren't that many sculptures and some of these photos are just close ups to show detail.

Finally, I captured these 4 stills from the video footage I took so although the video was in HD, the images are not great quality. A couple of them better show the sculptors in action, one using a scraping tool to carve out whole 'slices' of sand from a new block and in another still, you can see the fine spray water jet used to keep the sculpture moist and therefore compact.

Notice the untouched sand under the horse's eye here and then go back to a previous photo where lines have been carved in. Yes the video was taken first !

By now it was 3:15pm and my unprotected head had been out in the sun for over an hour so it was time to find shade. We also needed to eat so we left the sculpture area and went along the food stands before making our choices.

After that we lined up for our shuttle bus, returned to the park, picked up the car and drove off for more retail therapy before heading home.

I really enjoyed the day out as I'd always wanted to see sand sculptures and in any case, I rarely need an excuse to go to Siesta Beach which has to be one of the best in America.

Next time I'll be hatted, sun creamed and wearing my swim trunks !

Sarasota beware !

Lest We Forget - Oradour-sur-Glane

2011-11-11T15:07:00.012Z

Many times over the last few months, I've thought about how to compose this post. It's not been easy.

As you know, I've been slowly recounting our summer travels around France and Spain and posting my recollections and photographs on a day to day basis and so far I've only reached Day 5 when we were still enjoying the delights of Provence.

But Day 13 was memorable for a much different reason and considering that I'm typing this at exactly 11:11 on 11.11.11, I feel it appropriate to skip ahead to that summer's day when the 3 of us, myself, Daphne and Stephen, had a relevant experience that will never be forgotten.

Here is the story behind that experience......

In 1944, WWII was nearing its end in Europe. France was occupied by the Germans and shortly after D-Day, most of their troops were ordered north towards Normandy to try and repel the Allied invasion forces. Nestling in the Limousin region of west central France, lay the small idyllic village of Oradour-sur-Glane with a population of only a few hundred.

On 9th June, a German officer was reportedly kidnapped by local resistance fighters and at this point in the story, for reasons that will become obvious, the facts become confused to say the least.

What is not in dispute is that the Germans, or the Waffen SS to be precise, wanted retaliation for this outrage and so on 10th June 1944, they entered the village and rounded up all the inhabitants. Anyone passing through the village or visiting friends there were also included. To avoid panic, they told the village mayor that this roundup was for the sole purpose of doing identity checks and this is why the inhabitants, including children taken out of the schools, were not particularly worried and were even 'asked' to sing to ease any build-up of tension.

After assembling in the village square, the men were taken to 6 nearby barns and the women and children were escorted to the village church. There may have been little anxiety but the women and children were still uncomfortable as the church was relatively small and not built to hold that many people.

A short time later, that lack of anxiety changed to terror when gunfire was heard. The men had been lined up in front of machine guns and, as some reports claim, were deliberately shot in the legs to prevent escape before being covered with wood and straw, doused with petrol and set on fire.

Only 6 men escaped from the barns; one was shot dead, ironically walking towards the cemetery and the other 5, although all wounded, managed to get away under cover of darkness.

Meanwhile, some sort of explosive smoke bomb had been set off inside the church, with the purpose of asphyxiating all the women and children. In the ensuing panic, it became obvious that the bomb hadn't worked effectively so again machine guns and hand grenades were used to 'finish the job'.

With many not yet dead, wood was also piled on their bodies and set on fire. Only 2 women, one carrying her child, managed to climb out of a shattered window behind the altar. The mother and child were shot and killed and the sole woman survivor managed to reach some nearby bushes and remained there overnight until rescued.

The village was a stopping point on the Limoges to St. Junien tram route and with 5 trams a day passing through, one came along while the massacre was taking place. The passengers were taken off but for some reason, were allowed to re-board and continue on their journey.

In total, 190 men, 247 women and 205 children were massacred that day. The town was almost burned to the ground that evening to try and hide what had taken place.

With so few survivors and no one on the German side wanting to offer up any information, some facts surrounding that dark day are a bit muddled. Some reports say the wrong village was picked for this retaliation as Oradour-sur-Vayres, a very similar looking village 35 miles to the south, was where the German kidnapping had taken place. It was also said that the initial order had been to 'just' make an example by picking out and killing 30 inhabitants.

But any hazy sub plots do nothing to diminish the atrocities committed that day.

After the war, General Charles de Gaulle decided that the village should never be rebuilt, leaving it as a lasting memorial to the cruelty of the Nazi occupation. A new village was built north of the original and today has a population of a few thousand.

I'm not sure what the current population must make of having such a memorial right on their doorstep with thousands of tourists keeping the memory uppermost in their consciousness.

And so on that overcast summer's day in 2011, we entered the ruins of Oradour-sur-Glane and no war memorial has ever affected me so much. I have only edited the photographs I took in one way - by changing them to black and white as I think that best sums up what I saw in my mind as I walked silently along the village streets. The sign at the entrance had requested our silence but it wasn't necessary. Any words were caught in my throat as the experience of reliving what had taken place there 67 years ago overwhelmed me.

The shells of burned out cars; sewing machines lying within ruined living rooms; pots and pans forever resting on the rubble of kitchen floors; the heartbreaking remains of prams and bicycles telling silent stories of young lives brutally cut short; overhead tram lines creating cruel mental images of happier times; the ruins of the homes, once full of family laughter and now remaining as stark reminders of a wartime tragedy that few even know about.

If walking along the village streets wasn't upsetting enough, entering the remains of the church took my senses to a whole new level. Probably because of my upbringing, churches have always had a fascination for me and I've always felt closer to God in a church, an empty church, than anywhere else. Not surprisingly I've rarely felt further away from God than I did in L'Eglise D'Oradour-Sur-Glane.

The atmosphere was heavy with the ghosts or souls or spirits of all those massacred women and children. Take your pick. It was palpable. Overwhelming. Disturbing.

Approaching the altar above, I was looking upwards at the window, thinking about that mother and her baby who had thought they had escaped, only to be brutally shot down a few feet away from the church. Suddenly I looked down and saw the remains of a pram almost melted into the concrete floor, such was the heat created by the burning of the bodies. If there was one image that will remain with me forever, it was the one of that pram.

Today is Veterans Day in the US and Remembrance Day in the UK. Many other countries also remember those who served and died in wars around the world. I'm not going to get into the politics or even the necessity for war as it seems to be the human way throughout history to kill each other over everything from possessions and territory to personal beliefs and religions affiliations.

But today, I'm taken back to that small village in France where 642 lives were taken in the name of retribution. Where 205 children never got to grow up and never got to know the reasons why.

Where the worse of human nature has been left exposed for future generations to see and experience and maybe, just maybe, affect enough of us to try and ensure it never happens again.

Should children be taken there ? Should they be told what happened on that day back in 1944 ?

It's certainly much more effective than simply reading about it in a book or even seeing it on tv.

Oradour-sur-Glane may be a memorial to those who perished there but it will only serve its true purpose if people get the message being silently shouted from the remains of the homes and the ruins of the church.

It's a poignant message from 642 dead souls to 7 billion living ones but sadly if history has taught us anything, it's that this is one message that usually falls on deaf ears.

Footnote : Adolph Otto Diekmann (Dickmann), the battalion commander who was the highest ranking officer present at Oradour that day and therefore the man responsible for the massacre, was himself killed in action at Normandy 19 days later. As he was due to be court-martialled for exceeding his orders at Oradour, his fellow officers said he was distraught and they believed he comitted suicide by deliberately getting himself killed in action.

Testing, Testing........One, Two, Seven

2011-11-09T15:12:00.005Z

Regular readers will hopefully remember that back in the summer, I made the decision to buy a compact Nikon camera to basically replace my Canon dSLR and bulky 200mm zoom lens combo. Despite being a compact, the Nikon has over twice the zoom range and having tested it out on the France/Spain trip, I decided to take it here to Florida as my sole camera.

Given that the Canon 200mm zoom was a much superior quality lens, the decision may turn out to be a mistake.

Yesterday it was time to give the compact another test by taking some photos around the park as I've done so many times before. So after a bit of a chillout around the house in the morning, I went for a short bike ride. As you get older and less flexible, everyone should have a short bike as they are much easier to get on and off ! Har, har.

I headed to the lake and despite not having the tripod, took a few photos and here are the results. I'm relatively happy with them but know I can 'do better' with a tripod as at extreme zoom, sharpness can be an issue when the camera is hand held. The fact that the dSLR and zoom lens were heavy, actually made keeping them steady a lot easier than doing the same with a compact. But as simple snaps, they'll do.

Over the years, I've taken many photos of the wildlife around the park and here are a couple of bird shots that again aren't as high quality as ones taken with the dSLR. I knew this would be the case but I'm hoping that the other features of the compact will justify make my decision to bring it. If nothing else, being able to keep it in my breast pocket will be a huge bonus.

I tried that with the Canon and 200mm lens and it just didn't work so well !

Finally here is a photo highlighting one of the reasons why I chose the Nikon Coolpix S9100 as my compact camera. The 'Easy Panorama' feature means no more stitching individual photos together to create a panorama. Although I'd had success doing this in the past, each photo can have slightly different exposure levels as you pan around and so you can usually tell that stitching was done.

With the S9100, I simply hold down the shutter button and pan around and depending on the setting, I can take an 180 or 360 degree panorama in one sweep. Uniformly exposed and seamlessly saved in camera.

I've yet to take an easy panorama utilising my tripod so remember the one above was hand held. As such I wasn't perfectly steady during the pan and so the depth of the image has been affected as the software has to perform a crop in order to get the scene level across the 180 degrees.

Again I think it's a decent example and certainly gives a good impression of the view I was seeing from the end of the pier. Remember that as always, my photos can be enlarged by clicking on them and this is especially appropriate with the panorama one.

So I think the current report on the camera should read.........off to a reasonable start but could do better.

When A Shell Suit Works.

2011-11-08T15:13:00.003Z

WARNING : This post contains sexist statements that may offend those of a certain nature. However its does NOT contain any racist comments or indeed flashing lights so Johnny Foreigners and those with photosensitive epilepsy should be just fine.

Yesterday was my first 'real' day back in the park and after lunch I decided to get my bike sorted for the winter. I love the bike (a pressie from Deb/Den years ago) and love riding it in the park as, of course being in Florida, the internal streets are as flat as a proverbial.

After 6 months of summer, both tyres were also flat so I had to walk the bike to the other end of the park to use the air hose. It used to be set up a few blocks away by the main swimming pool but over the summer it was moved to a new location for reasons best known to whoever did it. Some airhead probably !

At least the bike and myself would get some exercise and so off we went, causing slight confusion and not a few witty (well to them anyway) comments from those we met.

"Giving it a rest, are we ?"

"Missing the point there, young fella" (I particularly liked the 'young' description in that one).

"Out of gas ?" (the (probable) accidental double meaning here made this my favourite).

Half way along my route I came to the end of Clair and MK's street and I wanted to see them as we'd not met up yet. I headed down to their house and after hugs and handshakes, Clair told me I didn't need to go on to the air hose as he had a compressor in his shed.

Now what Clair calls his shed, I'd call a 'man cave' as inside it he has one, and often two, of every tool known to...man. In fact if you Google tool outlets in Sebring, his address will be listed. So bikey and I followed him round to the shed and whilst I messed around with the stand, Clair went inside and was literally lost to sight. I really thought he'd gone out some unseen back door until I heard noises from within and he emerged triumphantly with a coiled air hose and a pressure gauge.

In no time at all, 57 psi of Florida air was flowing inside the tyres and I was good to go. Just like in the good old days when you stopped to gas up and some uniformed lackeys would wash your windscreen, check your oil and take your teenage daughter into the restroom, Clair's Service Station provided more than just air. Oh yes. Bikey's chain got a good dose of WD-40 as it was looking particularly rusty after such a long period of neglect.

(I wonder does it work on knee joints ?)

And then with a cheery wave and no sign of a tip, I was off.....riding into the sunset like some sort of modern day John Wayne, if he ever swapped his horse for a bike.

So thank you Clair. Once again your 'man cave' came to my rescue and yes, that's about as sexist as this post is getting so I'm sorry if you've read this far expecting something a tad more controversial.

Finally, on a totally unrelated subject, I had dropped Dennis off at his workplace within the park at 7am this morning (the time is important to note as in the UK, 7am...or even 10am, does not exist for me) and was driving the golf cart back home when I came upon an armadillo strolling across the road. I stopped next to it as we don't get many armadillos in North Leeds and I think it was just as surprised as clearly, it never expected to see me out and about at 7am !

There was a brief but totally surreal moment as we faced each other, neither quite sure what to do next. I was all for getting off the cart and poking its shell just because I could and it was probably wondering if it should leap onto the cart and latch onto my family jewels.

Common sense prevailed however and we just went our separate ways. As I drove off, I glanced back and saw that "Army" was continuing his walk to the relative safety of someone's front lawn, no doubt thrilled, as I'd been, by our early morning rendezvous.

Tomorrow morning I'll be taking my camera.

I hope he turns up.

Home (2nd) Sweet Home

2011-11-07T15:31:00.007Z

As I sit here in my recliner, Pixie at my feet (that's the dog - I'm not suffering from heat stoke just yet) and look out upon a glorious panorama of blue skies, palm trees and old people in shorts, I'm feeling at home. My 2nd home. Buttonwood Bay, Sebring, Florida to be precise.

And here is the story of how I got here.

I'd known last Friday evening that my flight on Saturday from Manchester to Orlando would be delayed almost 2.5 hrs from a departure time of 13:10 til 15:30. This was said to be down to a technical fault but in fact, when I asked around at the airport, was down to 'my' plane being needed elsewhere and a replacement being flown up from Gatwick on Saturday. Empty !

Can you image that ? A totally empty 747-400 flying to Manchester. Bet Mr. Branson wasn't too happy about that little piece of unscheduled scheduling !!

Anyway Daffy (my trusty airport taker too'er) and I decided to leave at our agreed initial time as I was fine with hanging around the airport for a few extra hours as opposed to having her waste even more of her Saturday. So we got there at about 10:45am and I was happy to see the Virgin check-in line was almost empty. (notice no obvious jokes from me there).

I was checked in and through security in no time as it seems with the delay in the departure time, passengers had spread out their arrival times at the airport accordingly.

So I had plenty of time for a leisurely browse through duty free and then had a meal in case the flight meals were as minimal as usual.

Sadly the replacement Gatwick Jumbo was a little late arriving and despite being empty so that no time was 'lost' kicking passengers out, it still had to be refuelled and the galley stocked up.

Yes, I know it looks like there is a "giant" little girl flying the plane but don't worry, it's just a reflection from inside the terminal. The sun was right behind the plane so this was the best I could manage.

Once on board we didn't have too long to wait before the doors were closed and we all settled down for the 8.5hr flight to Orlando. I find flying with closed doors is the preferred way.

The plane was old. Very old. In fact as well as toilet graffiti from Orville & Wright, there was an ashtray behind the door ! Who'd have thought it. Orville & Wright were smokers !

Virgin Atlantic had introduced a new food initiative on November 1st which to me seemed like they were making a positive about giving us less food ! I'm afraid that telling us the food tray would be smaller to give us more room on the drop down 'table' didn't cut any ice with me. I read smaller tray and thought....less food. And so it was.

We were each given a menu to again make us feel special but as there were still only 2 choices for the main meal, I saw nothing new. However, as one meal option was sausages and mash, I actually cleared my dish which had to have been a first.

Mid flight, and while some of us were watching a movie, the flight attendants came down the aisles with those over the shoulder goodie trays that we used to see in theatres back in the day after the B movie and before the main feature. They were giving out a sort of frozen popsickle which was very nice and very acceptable at the time.

I watched 3 movies back to back.......Rise of the Planet of the Apes, Super 8 and Captain America, The First Avenger. I'd not recommend any of them but Super 8 wasn't too bad. Basically E.T. meets The Goonies.

After an uneventful flight (sorry, Air Crash Investigation......nothing to see here) I arrived at the Orlando immigration area at 9pm local time. As we'd been delayed leaving the UK, they weren't expecting a Jumbo full of passengers at that time so half the Homeland Security booths were empty. The resulting line snaking around the room was very long as I'd been at the back of the plane, I was also at the back of the line.

It took an hour to get to the front and despite my usual concerns about it all, I was through without any hassle and was reunited with my luggage all within 10 minutes.

I met Debby in the arrivals and she called Dennis who had been waiting in the car in the nearby cell phone parking area and within minutes we were all on our way to Sebring. It was almost a 2 hr drive (ok so we stopped at a Hardees !!) and so it was around midnight when we got here. Despite being very tired, I was still buzzed and I didn't go to bed till just after 2am by which time it became 1am (clocks went back) but I'd still been up for 23 hours.

So I was very thankful for the extra hour in bed as I was up and about again at 6:30am. That's just how it goes with me the first night. Can only sleep about 5 or 6 hours.

Yesterday (Sunday) passed in a bit of a daze. We went out shopping to get me food basics and stopped off at the local diner for breakfast of 2 eggs, 3 bits of bacon (not worthy to be classed as rashers of course), home fries, toast and jelly and all for $3.99. Lovely jubbly.

Back home I unpacked, tidied up my bedroom and chilled for the rest of the day.

Now it's Monday and my first proper day here as I'm fully awake and raring to go. I was up again at 6:30am and now it's time for lunch. I've been for a short golf cart ride around the park but after lunch I'll take my bike to have its tyres blown up and then go for a proper investigation as lots of work has been done over the summer to improve the place.

I took this view outside the house a few hours ago , looking westwards. It was a little cloudy (they've burned off now) but still a very pleasant 79F/26c and it's to get to 83F/29c later on.

And this dull post has brought the blog up to date. I may now go for a bike ride. I may go for a walk. I may go for a swim. I may even go wrestle a gator.

This is the land of opportunity so anything is possible.

Ok lets get real here. I don't think I'll be wrestling a gator !!

To Do Or Not To Do ? That Is The Question.

2011-10-23T12:50:00.004+01:00

Yes, yes you want more France/Spain posts but I'm getting ready for my annual migration to warmer climes so haven't time for all that. They will come. And jolly good they will be too !

For this snowbird, today is Florida Departure Day minus 3 which according to my 'to do' list, means washing clothing for the trip. I don't mind D-3 as the machines do all the hard work. If I had to nip down to the local fast flowing river and bash my clothing on a large flat rock, then I'd have cause for complaint.

Ahhhh my awesome 'to do' list. I'd be lost without it. It was developed over the first few years of my winter trips to Florida and by now, it needs very little tinkering to keep it up to date. As you might guess, it's quite a list, as going away for 6 months does require a lot of actions and I'm just thankful that when I started doing this about 11 years ago, the internet and direct debits had progressed to such an extent that it made the whole thing possible.

Most of the items relate to stopping or suspending services, getting refunds for others and generally making sure that I have everything I need for getting to and living in another country for 6 months. The most important of these 'to does' was to get medication for such a long period. I take 6 prescription pills a day for my heart issues so that's 1068 tablets. I'm always worried I'll be treated as a drug mule but so far, it's never been a problem. I guess those dogs can't sniff statins !

Having to be 'out' of America for longer than I'm in it (to stick to the laws of both countries) means my departure dates get later and later every year. At some point I'll need to only go for 5 months or less so that I'm actually leaving BEFORE winter arrives in England. Mind you, with the summers we have here, that could be mid July !

As an aside, one item not on my list is to prepare for Halloween. What a non event that is. I think it's yet another 'holiday' made up by stores to sell the most bizarre items you could ever imagine. I'm not sure which countries 'celebrate' Halloween but if a visitor from a non participating country visited friends in a participating country, they'd think they'd all gone mad. I mean who in their right mind dresses up like a blood splattered zombie and walks the streets at night ? Ok APART from Michael Jackson in his later years. Or Michael Jackson today I guess.

Too soon ?

And I can't remember the last time any kids came to my door. Maybe they are put off by my ASBO or my name still being on that register. Cheesed me off really as it meant I had to eat all that fruit and veg myself. The only fireworks I heard were about a week earlier and I think those were at someone's birthday bash three streets away.

So all in all, and despite what we saw on tv, Halloween came and went like a thief in the night. A very quiet thief who stole nothing and just came for a look see. It came, it went, it never happened.

Back to my list and as most get actioned on D-1, then tomorrow (D-2) is a bit of a calm relaxing day. I was due to go into Leeds to have my annual eye sight test but as it was a stupid appointment to make so close to leaving for 6 months, I've just cancelled it. If it's dry, I may use the time to give the car a last wash before it goes into the garage - although that's actually not on my list as it doesn't really matter if it gets washed or not. I can't drive it any more as the SORN is now in place and I've already sent off for the tax disc refund.

It'll really only be when I step outside of Orlando airport on Saturday evening that I can relax. All the preparation, packing, travel and immigration/customs formalities will be over and I can look forward to winter with my friends in sunny Sebring, Florida.

Now then, does my visa run out in 2011 or 2021 ? Where's that list.............

Be Prepared To Be Amazed !!

2011-10-20T11:14:00.004+01:00

1776. A date known to everyone around the world and a few Americans too. A magical date.

But did you know it's also a magical number ? Ahhhhh, no, I bet you didn't. Well it is. It's magical in the sense that it's the only number with another number hidden within it. Ahh, got you interested now !

Take 1776 and divide it by the number of states beginning with M (8), add the number of Presidents (44), subtract the number of people who find Will Ferrell funny (246) and multiply by Paris Hilton's IQ (1) and you end up with......drum roll........20.

Today's date. Amazing eh.

You want more ? Ok. Today is a Thursday. Thursday 20th October. This only happens once every 823 years so put this as your status on Facebook and impress all your friends !

Go on, you know you want to.

Speaking of such things, I experienced a series of normally unrelated events over the last few days which combined in a bizarre way to create an interesting timeline.

First of all, on Monday I went through the checkout at Sainsburys and got a 36p voucher as they compare their prices against those at ASDA and said I'd effectively paid 'too much.' I went back into the store to spend it right away and the only item I could find at that price or less was a budget bag of own brand toffees.

Well I mean I wasn't going to add more money to it so you try finding something for 36p in a supermarket ! Even a bag of chips/crisps was 37p.

Next, on Tuesday evening, I opened the bag and had the first toffee. I chewed down and after a few seconds I 'hit' something solid. I took out the toffee and stuck to it was the gold crown of my bottom right molar. Opps.

Wondering why I wasn't getting excruciating toothache, I rang my dentist's office to get an emergency number but as it was after 8pm, I was pretty much on my own ! All I could get was the number for B&Q (US = Home Depot) with the recommendation to go get a set of pliers. Lush.

Spookily enough, I had scheduled my 6 monthly checkup appointment with my dentist at noon the next day so having put the crown into a tissue, I decided to wait. Thankfully I never did get any toothache but I didn't want to risk any so didn't eat or drink anything till that appointment as my tongue could feel a HUGE hole where the crown used to be.

(I did check the internet for dental gold prices and was shocked to discover that my 2g crown was only worth £38.86).

Thinking I was going to have injections and painful drilling at best, I went to see the dentist at noon yesterday. That's when I learned that there was a layer of solid dental 'concrete' in the tooth covering the nerves and so I was never in any danger of getting toothache. The gold crown then sat on top. So no injections. No drilling. The dentist simply checked things out and then plonked the crown back on top of the tooth, sealing it with some material that was hardened immediately with a lovely blue light. Sorted.

Best of all no new crown was needed. Despite being in a dental plan meaning I don't pay any extra for most procedures, a gold crown would've cost about £600 and I'd have had to pay about £125 of that. Ouch.

That could've been a very expensive toffee and considering I only got it as a 'freebee' from Sainsburys, then I'd have been very miffed if it had ended up costing me £125.

So there you have it. All that glisters may not be gold but it can be when it's stuck to a toffee.

Add that to the amazing info about 1776 and COULD this blog BE more educational ?

I don't think so.

Food For Thought.

2011-10-13T12:13:00.002+01:00

Last night I was reading the early chapters of Chris Evans' autobiography (the first part - It's Not What You Think), thanks to Daphne who loaned it to me.

He was talking about his school days and many of the incidents he mentioned from his time at grammar school reminded me of my years at boarding school. I was going to blog about them today but having slept on it, I don't think digging them up would serve any purpose and anyway, I've 'skimmed' over a few of them in previous blog posts so it's probably best to let it go at that......and certainly not mention any names. I mean what would be the point ?

Fr. McConville you sadistic bastard !

See......pointless.

But Chris also mentioned the wonderfully satisfying food his mum used to cook as he was growing up.....simple, healthy meals that few mums have the time or inclination to cook these days. It got me to thinking about memorable food I've had throughout my life, not necessarily because the actual food was any good but mostly because of where I was at that time in my life.

Despite my current youthful looks and personality, you may find it hard to believe that food rationing was still in force when I was born. I've no idea what this meant to me as I've very few memories of the 50's but looking at photos, I don't seem to have missed out on my calories ! We certainly didn't bypass rationing by eating out (a little remembered fact is that restaurants were exempt from rationing but they had very strict guidelines - no meal could cost more than 5 shillings; no meal could consist of more than 3 courses; meat and fish could not be served at the same sitting) but being country folk, I'm sure supplies of milk and eggs and other staples were more readily available to my parents than was strictly legal at the time.

So my first food memory would be the awesome hot soups/stews that would be waiting for me when I'd come home from primary school on winter days. These were made with fresh ingredients all washed down with a glass of creamola foam, a made-from-powder drink that is making a comeback these days. In a scene straight out of a Dickens novel, I'd sit on the floor by the open fire, bowl in hand and, while watching the hot embers floating up towards the chimney from the burning peat 'logs', I'd gently thaw out by enjoying mum's wonderful soup.

Now despite what I've said in the past about my 7 years at boarding school, there were times I actually enjoyed myself there. Very few times I have to say and one of them was when we were in the school dining room. Ok let me set the scene as I remember it ; the large dining room was full of long tables, each with seating for about 10 boys, 4 at the sides and one at each end. It might have been 5 per side but it doesn't matter now. A senior boy would be at the head of the table and his job was to dish out the portions to the boys at his table, making sure he got the largest portion of anything he liked. Oddly enough, my memories of the food started when I became a senior and had my own table ! Hmmmm Anyway, most of this food was standard school fayre but two items stick out for me - porridge and fadge.

Porridge ? Hell yes. At least the variant we got at Garron Tower. It was very gloopy and very, very sweet, due to the fact we had a seemingly unending supply of sugar to sprinkle over it. Bad teeth ? Us ? Never !

And as for the fadge, or potato cakes....oh my God I can still remember it so vividly now. The hot soft square slices came heaped on a large platter smothered in butter and the boys at my table were lucky if they got one each when I was serving ! I've never had any to match them since those days and the dry grilled ones you get in cafes now are a pale imitation. Literally.

When I moved to Leeds in 1973, I got a bedsit in Harehills, a well dodgy area of the city. I was, and still am, a Leeds United fan and so I'd go to all the home games at Elland Road. Back then I had a motor bike although, as it was a Honda 50, it was more like a push bike with a lawn mower engine. Anyway my route took me past a chippy called Cantors, on the corner of Chapeltown Road and Harehills Avenue. I'd always have a (fleur de lys) steak and onion pie and chips or if they didn't have any of those pies, I'd have a steak and kidney one and pick out the bits of kidney ! Then I'd ride to the ground, park up and eat my meal before walking the short distance to the stadium.

In those happy pre heart attack days, I was always impressed by the portions they served up at Cantors - they didn't mess about with little bags for the chips and just tossed a load onto the white paper sheets, added the pie and double wrapped the lot up to go. This is a classic case where the food itself wasn't memorable. Far from it. I used to have to play 'hunt the meat' and often I'd get a pastry pie with little or no meat in it. It was just the 'occasion' that sticks in my mind and, as Leeds were the best team in the country at the time, the whole process of going to watch them with a belly full of Cantors pie and chips will always remain with me as a happy food related experience.

( I researched Cantors for this post as I was impressed it is still in business after at least 38 years. What I found astonished me. It was known as a popular Jewish fish and chip shop back in 1940, 71 years ago ! Can I pick 'em or what ?! )

That takes me up to my mid 20's but I think this post has been long enough so expect a Part 2 sometime. If anyone reading this has food/location/event related stories to tell, feel free to add them as comments. I just love the idea that a food memory doesn't have to be down to the actual food being special or outstanding.

It's why it has remained as a memory at all that makes it special AND outstanding.

It Comes To Us All.

2011-10-05T17:45:00.003+01:00

I was in Tesco's today getting just two items and so, as I approached the checkouts, I decided to make use of one of their self scanning units.

Now I've always regarded self scanning as a technological mixed blessing. If the other staffed checkouts are very busy and I've only got one or two items, then it makes sense to do a self scan. On the other hand I've known these machines to "act up" and if I see a checkout line with only one person in it, I'll slot in behind them rather than risk finding an hormonal scanner that is having a particularly bad day.

I just don't need the stress.

Anyway today there were several self scanners tempting me to approach them by being devoid of customers. I took the bait.

I scanned both my items, chose the cash option, put in my £2 coin and whilst waiting for my change to be delivered, I heard several sighs coming from the little old lady using the scanner next to me.

With my purchases safely bagged and my change and receipt in my pocket, I looked across and noticed the lady was very agitated and almost on the brink of tears. The staff member covering the self scanners was dealing with another customer's problem and so I went over and asked if I could help.

"Can I help you" I said, trying not to frighten her with my height and bulk.

"I just don't know what to do" she replied, looking up at me with large slightly moist eyes.

"Well ok, what are you trying to do" I asked, gently.

"I don't know. I've never done this before" she said.

She didn't have anything on the scales and I noticed the scanner was asking for her to enter her card.

"Did you press the card option ?" I asked.

"Yes but I don't know where to put it" she said in a voice so pathetic it melted my heart.

When I looked down at her hand, everything became clear.

She had scanned her single item and managed to press "finish and pay" and when it asked for payment method, she had pressed "card". The scanner then asked her to "enter your card" and this is where she had lost the plot a bit as she was trying to find a large slot to actually push her single shopping item into the scanner.

Why ?

Well her single item was........a birthday card !!

The France & Spain Tour 2011 - Day 5

2011-10-02T17:10:00.015+01:00

The great thing about touring Provence is that you only need to drive a few miles to see wonderful scenery and picturesque towns. As another plus, in the space of these few miles the scenery can change from lush sweeping valleys to majestic gorges and the towns change from chocolate box quaintness to hill side medieval fortresses.

We experienced all these and more on our 2nd day of touring from our b&b base near Pernes-les-Fontaines. The 37 mile circular route started with us again driving east along the D28 through Saint-Didier and then the D4 past Venasque (see previous post). In the space of a few minutes we watched soaring cliffs give way to tree lined avenues as we made our way to our first stop at the Abbaye Notre-Dame de Senanque.

The 12th century Cistercian abbey has an unusual history as its community of monks peeked in numbers in the 13th and 14th centuries and by the 16th century, only 12 remained. The abbey was then ransacked by the Huguenots and finally when the last monk was expelled, Senanque was sold to a private individual. In 1854, the abbey was repurchased by another community of Cistercian monks and nowadays they exist by producing and selling lavender and honey.

Sadly we didn't visit when the lavender fields were in season but the by-products were on sale in the gift/book shop which also contributed towards the running of the abbey. It was just as well that I love the smell of lavender as with all the soap, perfume and the like, the shop was lavender heaven.

In the small foyer area was a cute sign informing dogs that they had to remain outside.

As the abbey is open for retreats, the main building was off limits to us and so without much else to see, we only spent an hour there before driving the 7 miles to the classic Provencal hill village of Gordes.

High above the Calavon valley, Gordes is another of the 'beautiful villages of France' and even after only two days in Provence, we were starting to realise that just about every village there was on the shortlist.

As recently as WWII, the village was a resistance centre and as with a town we were to visit in a week's time, it was punished in reprisal for local resistance fighters killing a German soldier.

The village is a typical mix of narrow streets with speciality shops and open squares with cafes, fountains and, in this case, even a castle....or castel.

We liked it. We liked it a lot.

After a morning of walking and climbing steep streets, by 1pm we were starving and found a lovely restaurant and had a leisurely lunch. After that we wandered around the village, went into a church for some reflection and then headed back to the car park. On the way, Daphne was looking at a shop when she realised an air grill under her was helping to set up a Marilyn Munroe parody. I took a photo but the slightly earlier view when her skirt was almost over her head will have to remain only in my mind. Probably best !

Nearby was a space between buildings with a view down over the valley. We also noticed a home having both a swimming pool and a lap pool which seemed a bit incongruous in an otherwise oldy worldy village. Having said that, we saw several swimming pools around Gordes.

After having had our fill of Gordes, we drove on the 12 miles to L'isle sur la Sorgue, a much larger and very different place. It is on the plain and is often referred to as the "Venice of Provence". But just as we left Gordes, we noticed a few cars parked up across the road at a viewing point and so we turned around and joined them.

And what a view it was. This shot really shows what a hill village looks like and although we visited many on our tour, we were never able to get such a clear view of any of them like we had here.

L'isle sur la Sorgue is an 'island city' lying at the foot of the Vaucluse plateau on the plains of Comtat Venaissin. The river Sorgue surrounds the city and canals run alongside the streets with picturesque bridges adding to the impression you've come upon a Venice lookalike. I guess it was too obvious for the city fathers to twin with Venice but it would've been a good match.

Back in the day, the inhabitants lived off crayfishing and the silk and paper industries used great waterwheels in their manufacturing processes. These moss covered wheels still turn and add another dimension to the views around the city.

The city is also known for its antique shops and we saw plenty of them with prices to match. Again away from the open squares, we really loved the narrow streets where we could enjoy the sights and sounds of the traders and cafes. And even some dogs.

We also went into the local 17th century church, Notre-Dame des Anges (Our Lady of the Angels) which was very ornate and as usual, a lovely oasis of peace and tranquility away from the hustle and bustle of the streets around it.

We all took photos !

By the time we'd walked back to the car, it was almost 5pm and time to close the circle by going back to the b&b to freshen up and then go off for supper. With the Pernes-les-Fortaines street fair now over and the roads around it open for traffic again, we had more places to chose from and ended up in a lovely restaurant not far from the Chinese where we'd eaten the previous night.

Again the meal lasted for almost 2 hrs and by the time we returned to the b&b, we were almost ready for bed. It had been another fabulous day in our part of Provence and we planned on hitting new heights the next day.

And we did.

The France & Spain Tour 2011 - Day 4

2011-09-24T18:32:00.013+01:00

As I said in the previous post, we were loving Mas Pichony, our b&b in Provence. After a restful night's sleep, we were all up early and once again, after Daphne had been for a swim, I left her to change for the day ahead and went out taking early morning photos around the grounds.

Here is one of swimming pool, showing the shaded cooking and eating area at the far end.

By 8:30 we were sitting with the other guests at the large breakfast table outside the house and a short time later, we were on our way to continue our tour of this part of Provence with a very short 4 mile drive.

We went east again, back through the town of Saint-Didier where we'd had supper the previous evening and on along the D28 to join the D4 to the pretty medieval hill village of Venasque. With a population of only 1,151 people and uncrowded, flower festooned narrow streets, Venasque truly lived up to its reputation as one of the most beautiful villages in France.

Driving up the steep road to the parking area, the view was dominated by the beautiful 12th century Church of Notre Dame with its high bell tower and overhanging gargoyles.

Arriving relatively early, we got a very favourable parking spot right up against a low stone wall with a stunning view over the surrounding countryside and of course this necessitated a portrait.

What a nice young couple !

We were in no rush and given the size of the village, it didn't take long to explore it thoroughly. On one street corner there was a cute cat doing a spot of people watching and begging to be photographed.

I obliged.

There was a lovely Provencal version of a village square with an 18th century fountain as its focal point. A short distance away were, to all intents and purposes, the ruins of a castle but it seems were really the ruins of a chateau......les remparts du chateau de Venasque to be precise.

It still looked like a castle to me !

Here is the fountain and a view down a typical narrow street in the village. In fact this view shows where we were parked, just behind that white vehicle at the end.

At noon we left Venasque for the 17 mile drive to Roussillon and what an experience that was. It's hard to do justice to the unique splendour of Roussillon. You can say that there are 17 shades of ochre daubed across the houses of the village, drawn from the palette of the old ochre quarry next door. But that doesn't do justice to the flamboyant, technicolor glory of Roussillon, the reds, yellows, oranges and pinks that merge one into the other as you wander around the spiralling streets. Or the stunning contrast of the green of the pine trees or the blue sky against the red cliffs.

As we approached the town, we saw that parking would be a problem so we went back down the road, parked along the side and made our way back up on foot. It was a long hot walk and by the time we got into the town proper, we were ready to combine a rest with lunch !

As eating takes a while in France, we were well rested by the time the bill was paid.

And ready again to explore.

Roussillon is a "two part village" and although it would be hard to visit it and leave without knowing about the ochre quarry, it could happen. Once in its centre, it's a typical Provencal hill village with the narrow streets, flower filled window boxes and stunning views down over the valley. The one feature that sets it apart is the colour..all the buildings are red, thanks to that nearby ochre quarry !

The village is on a ridge of steep red cliff, as if everything around but the village has been clawed away over the years. If you walk up to the top, you get some wonderful panoramic views across the valley to the Grand Luberon, the slopes of Mont Ventoux, and the plateau of the Vaucluse.

Here are a few photos showing the buildings, the flowers, the main square where we ate and finally 2 sweeping panoramas showing the views over the valley.

As usual, you can click on any photo to enlarge it and this is especially important for the panorama shots.

Walking up and down the steep streets was very tiring even after, or maybe despite having, our lunch. When my body is trying to process a meal, it sure doesn't like to have to deal with walking up and down steep streets ! Even in Provence !!

But with the village explored, it was time to move on to the ochre quarry which was just a walk over a short bridge and still part of the village environs. And what a place it was.

First up, there is a photo of a sign explaining what we were about to experience but if you want a fuller explanation, I'm sure Google will help. Then comes the first view you get of the quarry as you cross the village bridge. Shops and restaurants on the right and the quarry on the left. The visitors give some idea of scale.

The ochre this land is made of is a natural pigment that was used in paints. Roussillon's ochre quarry was one of the most significant ochre deposits in the world. But times move on and real ochre is no longer in use. This means you can explore the disused quarry which is best described as other-worldly....perhaps like Mars if it had cliffs and caverns, steeples and ridges. Certainly something very different and a place I will never forget.......and neither will my shoes !

To walk around the quarry meant walking on various surfaces - wooden steps, gravel paths and of course, as can be seen in the above photos, the ochre 'soil' itself. The paths were very steep in places and the steps were so wide apart that it would've been better not to have had them. My white tennis shoes were red by the end of the walk and my legs and feet were screaming for a break.

A rest and an ice cream by the bridge wall helped my legs and feet and a good wash in the b&b sink later that afternoon sorted the shoes. The red dust brushed off fairly easily and thankfully left no lasting stains.

Did we love Roussillon ? Yes we did. Town AND quarry.

We drove back to Mas Pichony and had a rest for a hour or so. Then we went back into Pernes-les-Fontaines, the main town nearest to the b&b, for supper. There was a funfair set up near the town centre so the road was closed and we had to park some distance away. We wandered around the various stalls and rides but it was just like any small fair anywhere in the world and not that impressive.

We settled on a Chinese restaurant for the meal and very good it was too. Just before we got there, we saw something that reminded me that even with modern 'green' fuelled cars, there is always a down side and in this case, it was all too obvious !

After a 90 minute meal, fast by French standards, it was 9pm and after another walk around the funfair which was only slightly more interesting in the dark, we headed back to the car. This meant us walking along another street bordered by trees and this one in particular looked like it had an interesting story to tell.

And that was it. A long but fascinating day and if nothing else, it had given us a small taste of things to come over the next few days in Provence. So far it was rivalling Tuscany in my personal list of beautiful places to visit and I was excited about what we'd see over the next few days.

The France & Spain Tour 2011 - Day 3

2011-09-20T14:18:00.010+01:00

We left our intrepid trio in Burgundy, staying overnight with our friends, Graham and Christine Battye in their stunning b&b in the beautiful village of Montreal.

Early the next morning, before we had breakfast, I wandered around the grounds taking photos in the misty post dawn light. Daphne had already been for a swim in the pool so by the time I got there, the swooping birds had left and all was peace and quiet. The mist was mostly gone but a low layer still hung over the fields on the horizon, helping to provide a natural blanket which added to the tranquility of the scene.

After breakfast, we said goodbye to our fellow guests and of course, our hosts, and set off on the drive southwards to Provence.

The actual drive was uneventful and although we stopped at a service station for lunch which was....different......we simply made a straight 309 mile run to the next b&b, a 17th century Provencal farmhouse close to Avignon.

And what a farmhouse it was. Surrounded by classic wine fields, Mas Pichony was a beautiful home that the young owners had turned into a b&b with several rooms and a gite at one end, where we were to spend the next 4 days. The gite provided us total privacy with our own entrance, two rooms (downstairs with a double bed and an upstairs with 3 single beds) and a large bathroom. Breakfast was outside on the terasse under a 300 year old plane tree where we shared the meal with fellow residents, a large dog, 3 cats and a few chickens.

Hey it WAS a farm !

Over the next few days, I took lots of photos around the farmhouse and will sprinkle them in from post to post so as not to overwhelm one single post. Here are a few from our first evening there, despite not having much time as we needed to get into town for supper and after that.....well it was dark !

First up, a shot of the pool and then the breakfast table.

The pool area was something else. With views of the wine fields on 3 sides, it also had a shaded seating area that ran the full length of the pool with couches and chairs and at the far end was a shaded summer kitchen, complete with sink, fridge, cooler, microwave, full sized dining table and everything needed for having food and drink all day long....and all night ! Finally, over to the side, was a lovely quiet wooden gazebo type structure with deckchairs for that full relaxing experience.

I took some panorama photos and like I said, I'll include them in future posts.

As well as the wine groves and huge trees of all shapes and sizes, the farmhouse had a few 'items' I'd never seen before and have no idea what they were. For instance, what is this ?

As anyone who reads this blog regularly or knows me in person can testify, I love cats and as this place had 3, I was in cat heaven. I didn't care that they were wild cats and didn't take to being picked up (as a few scratches on my hands would prove later), as they were still very cute and would occasionally pose for photographs.

Later on, while waiting for Daphne to get ready (sighhhhh), I went outside and just a few paces from the gite door, I found several bushes with snails on them. Seems that snails just love climbing to the top of anything for no apparent reason, a bit like mountaineers. I was temped to remove the top one and replace it on the ground and then listen for a VERY quiet......offs.

Yes I'm cruel like that !

When Daphne was finally ready and once at the end of the farm lane, we turned right along the D28 for a few miles to the village of Saint-Didier and then took a right onto its main street, the D39, or the Rue Le Cours. This was a typical Provencal village street, lined with centuries old trees and with cafes and restaurants every few yards. You are NOT going to starve in Provence !

After walking the length of the street checking out the choices, we settled on this cafe which I'll show on a Google Maps link as I can't pronounce it or even type its name here.

View Larger Map

As you can see, there were tables outside and although we would have ideally wanted to sit at one to do a bit of people watching while we ate, as usual in France, all the smokers were outside and you could've cut the atmosphere with a scalpel. Quite appropriate under the circumstances.

So we went out the back and it was only after we were seated, drinking our water, that we got the menus and discovered the prices were much higher. Seems the front was a cafe with appropriate menu/prices and the back was a restaurant with....well y'know. That's what you get when you're not fluent in the language and the owner asks you if you want to eat 'out the back' as it seemed to me ! Hey ho.

Anyway the back area was delightful, enclosed as it was with trees, flowering shrubs and a bit bizarrely, Christmas style lights. It was another lovely warm evening and the food was good. All in all, a great end to a long day.

We'd been seated in a far corner and right behind me were some very exotic looking flowers which I believe were passion fruit. They're not particularly associated with France but will grow in any warm location where frost is not likely to occur. If anyone thinks I've got this wrong, feel free to let me know in the comments.

And no, I'm not calling this one Bob !

They were a bit disconcerting as they were almost on my shoulder and I felt if I left anything on my plate, they'd have had it. Well that's my excuse for clearing my plate !

After a meal that again took the best part of 2 hrs, we headed the few miles back to our gite. It had been a long day and although we hadn't walked much, we were still pretty tired and so, after planning what we'd do the next day and with the less annoying evening sounds of the countryside drifting in through the partly open windows, we went to bed.

Our first evening in Provence had really given us a taste of the area and we were excited about the days to come.

And as it turned out, rightly so......

Thank God I'm A Country Boy

2011-09-15T18:54:00.009+01:00

Today was nice. A nice day. Weatherwise I mean. Very nice.

Not quite an Indian Summer day but not far off. A Pakistani Summer maybe ? Like an Indian......but not quite as hot !

So I rang Daphne and asked if she'd like to accompany me on a walk to Eccup Reservoir. I needed the exercise and she needed....well she just needed to accompany me.

The walk was part of my regulars (ha !) but to be able to go further at the other end which was way out in the countryside, I had the brill idea for us to drive through the estate and park at the start of the countryside bit, thus missing the dull estate bit altogether. If you follow. And are together.

So let it be written, so let it be done. And it was.

Q : Is all this nonsense just an excuse to put some text around some photos ?

A : It's a fair cop, guv.

Here is a panorama using the new camera's Easy Panorama mode which it is.....easy that is. Just click and pan and Bob's your cousin's better looking uncle, you get a panorama without any stitching and trying to cover up the joins. Go on, enlarge it and have a scan; you know you want to.

The path to the reservoir was looking as pretty as.....well a picture actually, so here is one :

Once we reached the reservoir, I had to take a photo of it. Ok a reservoir is a bit dull at the best of times and its photogenicness (works for me) can only be enhanced by its surroundings. In the case of Eccup Reservoir, the surroundings are pretty dull too so in a desperate bid to alleviate this overall dullness, here is a photo of Daphne. Who isn't dull at all. Not in the slightest.

Leaving all this dullness behind, we continued the walk and came upon a field with straw bales, or rolls, stacked up in long lines. I'd never seen this sort of arrangement before and found the sight very pleasing. So much so that I took 2 photos and as I don't know which I like best, you get both. I don't critique my photos very much but I do like the combination of colours and shapes in these ones although I suppose God and the farmer deserve the credit and not me. I don't mind sharing though.

This next photo just shows the path we took on the way back. We left the paved road that we'd taken on the way out and went on a public bridleway which, being gravel, was more uneven but much more native.

These last 3 are just general snaps but deserve an outing. The first one shows a ladybug or ladybird (but certainly not a ladyboy) that was tucking into its lunch. If you enlarge the photo, you'll see what it had for breakfast which leads me to guess it likes veggie food. Next up is a very berry shot with a field in the background. Again lots of contrasting colours all heightened by the clear blue sky. Always a winner in my book. Finally there is a photo of an intact dandelion. Nothing special about it except its name. It's called Bob. Bob The Dandelion. Bob. Bob.

I just like saying it. Bob.

And that was it. Our walk on the wild side. Or at least in the countryside. Certainly outside.

It may not be Burgundy or even Provence but it's on my doorstep and as such, I love it and it's a lot cheaper to get to.

And then there's Bob.

Ear, Ear, Vincent

2011-09-10T01:03:00.005+01:00

When we were touring Provence (which is in France you know), we saw loads of fields full of sunflowers. I've taken many photos of sunflowers on my travels and although I'm not sure why, they have a strange effect on me.

Many people like the idea of them tracking the sun which I think gives them an almost living attribute. Yes, yes I know they ARE living in a brainless flowery sort of way but you know what I mean. We like to think of them getting up every morning, having a look for the sun and then following it all day long. God help them in Britain then !

It's not a bad life I suppose and on beaches all over the world, many humans do the same sort of thing but don't look as pretty.

Sadly the whole sun tracking thingy is all a bit of a misconception as sunflowers don't really track the sun at all. Shocker, I know.

To be fair, the leaves and buds of young sunflowers do start off the day facing east and move to the west as the day progresses. But mature sunflowers simply face east and don't move.

When I pass a field full of 'dead' sunflowers, the sight makes me feel so sad. They still stand incredibly tall but their heads are dull, drooping and lifeless. So different from the vibrant, colourful heads they once presented to the world.

What we found in many fields was a mix of both, a majority of dead heads with a few still hanging in there, so to speak. A few proud survivors who for a few more days were saying to the passers by........." hey I'm still here. Bloody well look at me. "

On our 5th day on the France & Spain Tour 2011, we visited the 12th century Senanque Abbey near Gordes in Provence. The Cistercian monks who live there, grow and sell lavender and honey products and with a thriving gift shop, don't need to charge entry to the grounds and abbey.

It wasn't lavender season when we were there but a quick wander around the gift shop left us in little doubt what the smell would've been like outside when it was in season. Thankfully I love 'processed' lavender although the smell of the actual flowers doesn't thrill me. Go figure.

Anyway in the small courtyard in front of the abbey stood a lone mature sunflower and in the dazzling morning sunshine, its colours were stunning. I was reminded once again of the painting of sunflowers by Vincent Van Gogh and how dull and drab he'd managed to make them appear. Maybe his vase full had passed their prime and were 'on the way out' but wouldn't you have thought he'd have replaced them with some fresh ones ?

Art eh. What do I know !

I still prefer my sunflower (sorry monks but I'm claiming it) and best of all, it's about $40m cheaper !!

And for Brits of a certain age, don't you now find yourselves saying "weeeeeeeeeed."

Sure you do.

Flobalob !

The France & Spain Tour 2011 - Day 2

2011-09-05T01:57:00.010+01:00

As sure as most of the world will end up following Stephen Fry on Twitter, Day 2 followed Day 1 and we found ourselves coming down to a breakfast fit for royalty. As they never turned up, we scoffed it instead and boy was it good.

There were plain and chocolate filled croissants, bread rolls, jams of all flavours, fruit cocktail, orange juice, chocolate spread, 8 large crepes, oranges, apples, peaches and other fresh fruit and, at our request, hot chocolate and coffee to drink.

As you can hopefully see from the last photo, the chocolate and coffee drinks were served up in a rather interesting way. The 'pots' came in two parts with the top section containing the liquids and the bottom parts being the drinking vessels.

Tres bon, n'est pas ?

The plan was that if we liked this first b&b, we'd try and book it again for the return trip. Well we certainly liked the room, the breakfast and the price so we did just that and booked it. Madame and Monsieur had to juggle some other guests around it seemed but after a few minutes with their planning book, they said all was ok.

Well they might have said all was ok if they spoke any English but they didn't and so they said it in French instead. Their country, their rules. Fair enough.

Full of stomach and only €55 lighter of pocket, we headed off to continue our grand adventure. Our next port of call was to be with our friends Graham & Christine who run a stunning b&b in Montreal (pronounced Maw-Ree-Al) in Burgundy. 249 miles and €38.70 in tolls later, we arrived at Maison Creme Anglais about a year to the day since our last visit. Our hosts had again kindly given up their own bedroom for us and soon we were relaxing in the glorious surrounding of their home. After a while I went off to take almost the same photos as last time but with my new camera so I just had to, didn't I ?

I went out into the medieval streets and again found photographic opportunities everywhere.

Speaking of the new camera, I'd only had it a couple of weeks before we set off and so I'd not had the chance to 'use' a lot of the settings. There was one called the 'pet portrait' setting and yes, I'm not joking. When on this setting and the camera detects the face of a cat or dog (sorry goldfish and gerbils), it focuses on the face, tracks the animal and automatically takes photos continuously without the shutter having to be pressed.

Graham and Christine's cat was a good subject as it never stayed still and here is one of the many photos taken on the 'pet portrait' setting. Not too shabby.

Later that evening we sat down for a lovely meal with their other guests in their huge converted barn. They were from France, Germany, Switzerland and The Netherlands so it was quite an international gathering.

Yes I know they're not at the table in that photo but as I've not asked permission, I'd better not show them in case.......well just in case. Maybe they should've been in their offices or something....who knows and I'm not risking a law suit.

So just enjoy the table.

All in all it had been a great Day 2 and as next up was to be a 4 day stopover in Provence, we went up the tall tower to bed that night as excited as Will Ferrell getting a laugh.

Yes the experience would be new for us too !

The France & Spain Tour 2011 - Day 1

2011-09-04T19:31:00.012+01:00

Where to begin ? Well Day 1 would seem to be a good start.

We set off from Leeds at some unearthly hour on Saturday August 20th and made the long drive down to the south east coast with frequent stops for rest breaks and you know what breaks. We still got to Dover with well over an hour to spare and had the luxury of having time for a meal before entering the ferry port area.

After clearing passport control we moved on to the ticketing checkpoint..........

Once in the boarding line, Stephen took the chance to attach the deflectors onto the car's headlights so we could drive on the right at night without blinding oncoming cars.

A couple of lines across from us was a cute little 'teardrop' camper and I took the opportunity to take a panorama shot which looks a bit distorted as it's meant for landscapes and not close up objects.

Soon we were heading up the ramp and into the bowels of the SeaFrance ferry for the 75 minute crossing to Calais.

Once settled on board, I went out onto the deck to watch our departure and see the famous white cliffs fading into the distance as we set off for foreign shores.

With no formalities to slow us down at Calais, we were on our way to our first bed & breakfast, Aux Trois Maillets about 60 miles from the ferry port. Not having been to France many times before, I couldn't help but take my first photo through the windscreen - despite it only being of a road sign. Over the next 2 weeks I'd be taking many more in-car photos but rest assured, they'd all be much more interesting than this one ! Early days.

I'd seen the b&b so many times on Street View in the period leading up to our departure that it was kind of weird to see it in real life. We were greeted by owners Ysabelle and Jean-Michel who showed us around their lovely house in Angres.

Aux Trois Maillets was a delightful b&b and best of all, being off the main tourist route from Calais, was, at 55 euros for the 3 of us, dirt cheap !

We literally tossed our cases in the room and set off into town for our evening meal. It was a small town without much choice but we just needed fuel so didn't mind a less than stellar meal. Afterwards we walked around the local streets and came to a roundabout which featured a replica of Louis Bleriot's channel crossing plane with a sign on a rock that never really explained the reasons behind it all. I've tried to find out why it was there but without any success.

And after we returned to the b&b, that was it for Day 1 of our France-Spain Tour 2011.

The gang was abroad again with plenty of adventures ahead.

To be continued.........

Bonsoir, Hola and Hello.

2011-09-03T19:13:00.004+01:00

3 people, 14 days, 2,807 miles, 3 countries, 6 bed and breakfasts, 1 hotel and numerous insect bites later, we are home. Phew.

We've had a fabulous trip with life long memories of stunning scenery, wonderful people, sobering locations and just great times.

But for now, only having been back 15 minutes, it's time to chill and rest my old bones which have been up and down more steps in the last 2 weeks than in the previous 2 years.

Am I looking forward to my own bed ? Hell yes.

More as and when...........

A Quick Update From Your Travelling Reporter !

2011-08-26T19:05:00.015+01:00

Yes it's me, already.

We've FINALLY found wifi that works and as we've had to suffer wifi-less-ness for almost a week, we're jolly upset that we've been so out of contact with the world. We've had no telle either so we've REALLY been out of touch with things. I didn't even know that Leeds had played last Tuesday and hurrah.....they won. See, it's vital events like that we've missed !

We picked B&B's in France that had wifi but when push came to data shove, we could never get connected. The French are a devious lot, me thinks.

Anyway, I think it's always good to say one is blogging from some exotic location and in this case, I am. From a hotel in the centre of Barcelona no less. We arrived here about an hour ago and having settled in, are about to head out to explore the city. We stopped off at my ex-ASDA friend's restaurant about 90 miles north of the city and were royally treated to a 3 course meal and Pasko, the aforementioned friend, wouldn't take a cent for it. Thank you to him and his lovely wife, Marie and his cute-as-a-button daughter, Alexia. I may have got the spelling wrong and if so, sorry Alexia. But you're still cute !

Right I said this would be quick and it will be. I just picked out a few 'snaps' of our travels so far to give you a flavour of the wonderful time we're having. Honestly, if you've never been to Provence, you MUST go. Am I glad that digital photography was invented or I'd have been returning to the UK with a bucket full of films to be processed. Ahhhh Truprint, where are you now ??

Provence is a photographer's dream and we only just scratched its surface, so to speak. Every village, hillside or on the plain, was another jewel in the crown. I've taken about 900 photos and video clips and we've not had a week yet. So be warned, there will be blog posts about it all from now till Christmas !

We crossed into Spain this morning and are here in Barcelona for 3 nights. The wifi is full strength so no worries there and so I'll get a chance to read some of the 200+ emails that arrived in my inbox just now !

Well here are the photos and bye for now...............

To be continued............

It's Plume De Ma Tante Time !

2011-08-19T18:10:00.003+01:00

As it might be some time before I get the chance or time to blog again, I thought I'd do a sort of 'bon voyage' post before setting off on my travels.

It could also be handy to have this as a record of my plans in case my smooth skinned boyish good looks get me sold into slavery by some marauding traders on the lookout for a houseboy with a bit of meat on him. If you hear nothing from me for, say, 3 weeks, please contact the Foreign Office and see if they'd be willing to send me some marigolds. That foreign water can ruin delicate hands !

I'm all packed and ready to go.....although I've now exactly 11 hrs to wait. Hopefully I'll be asleep for 7 or so of those hours but that rarely happens as I'm like a kid in bed on Christmas Eve. The Yorkshire puddings, baked beans and M&S microwave ready meals are all in the case because as we all know, those Frenchies know sod all about good food.

I don't think I've ever been so prepared for a foreign trip before as we have b&b's already booked for every single night. That's 14 nights and 7 different locations.

Setting off from Leeds at 6:30am tomorrow, we'll drive 270 miles to Dover, get the cross channel ferry to Calais and drive another 63 miles to the first b&b. Sunday morning and we'll be off on the 252 miles to Montreal in Burgundy to visit friends who run a stunning b&b there. Then it's 306 miles on to Provence and a 4 night stay there so we can really explore the area.

Friday morning and we set off on the 314 mile drive to Barcelona, stopping for a meal at Pasko's Balkan Grill in Roses, just over the Spanish border. Pasko and I worked together for many years so it'll be great to see him again - if we can get there before he has his siesta and the restaurant closes !

After 3 nights in Barcelona, we move on 168 miles for one night in the lovely old Spanish village of Ainsa, nestling in the foothills of the Pyrenees. The following day we drive north for 239 miles, crossing into France again and stopping in the Dordogne region to spend 2 nights in the stunning cliff town of Rocamadour.

On the 227 mile drive to our next b&b near Amboise in the Loire Valley region, we want to stop off at the village of Oradour-sur-Glane, the scene of one of the most tragic and despicable events of WWII. I'd encourage readers to go to the link and despite us being on a holiday trip, I think we'll all like to visit the village and see it as it was in 1944. A haunting testimony to the horrors of war and what we humans are capable of doing to one another. I doubt I will leave there unaffected.

After an all too brief exploration of the Loire Valley, it's a 252 mile drive back to our first b&b, the one 63 miles from Calais, for our last night before catching the 11:20am ferry back to Dover and then driving back to Leeds.

Even without any sightseeing mileage, the point to point total will be 2,422 miles. Probably a bit too much driving for a 2 week trip but again, we're after a 'feel' for these places so we can, if we want, return for a longer experience at a later date.

And there you have it. Our itinerary in Johnny Foreignerland. As usual Daphne will be our linguist when talking with the natives as my French is basic and my Spanish non existent. Given my miming skills, I can be called upon to do a few hand signals when necessary but then again, if I get them wrong, I'll may still need Daphne to talk me out of a punch up at best or a jail sentence at worst !

I'm a bit nervous about only taking my new compact camera and leaving the dSLR and big zoom lens behind but this is just what I got it for so fingers crossed it does the job. Time will tell and the post holiday blogs could be short on quality photographs if it all goes wrong !

Anyway, it's au revoir for now and try not to get into mischief until my return....................

Prepare The Bulls, We're Coming.............

2011-08-15T14:18:00.005+01:00

Right, having got the Norn Iron photos out of the way, it's time for yours truly to get ready for the next trip. Idle hands and all that !

So, bright and early next Saturday morning, long before the Kellogg's cockerel has normally crowed over my cereal, the intrepid trio will be setting off again on another whirlwind adventure.

We'll head down to Dover and leaving the White Cliffs behind, take the SeaFrance ferry to Calais and spend the first night about 60 miles into France as that will be more than enough travelling for one day.

Our ultimate destination will be Barcelona and with all of France to drive through to get there, we had choices galore in terms of the route. After some planning, we've decided to take the Jenson Button option over the James May option (probably lost on most of you....sorry) and head south pretty much as fast as we can.

The reasons for this are several. We want to revisit friends who own a stunning b&b in the small village of Montreal in Burgundy that we last visited in 2009. Then we want to spend a few days in Provence by using one b&b as a base for exploring the area which we're told is the French version of Italy's Tuscany so I'm excited about that description. Next, on the actually day's drive to Barcelona, we want to visit an ex IBM work colleague of mine who owns a restaurant in the famous town of Roses, south east of Perpignan but just over the border in Spain.

So to fit all that in, we need to drive between those locations without hanging around.

It's hard to miss Paris on any drive down through France but we'll be doing just that. Tempting as it would be to enter the city, whip out my traveller's guillotine, lop of Sarkozy's head and claim France for Her Majesty Queen Liz II of England and some other places, we'll drive east of the city and leave France as French.

Sorry world.

Much as I'm looking forward to touring Provence, the highlight of the trip should be Barcelona as few people ever have a bad word to say about it. Our hotel is right in the city centre, within walking distance of most of the usual tourist sights. It's also at the end of an avenue leading to Barcelona's world famous Camp Nou stadium and I feel sure a visit there will be on the cards, for me at least. They're even playing at home while we're there so seeing a game might be the cherry on that particular cake.

With only 5 days to go, we've not actually planned on anywhere after Barcelona. We'll only have 4 full days to get back to a b&b near to Calais for the return ferry on Saturday 3rd September so we may just potter about in Northern Spain for a day and then head straight back up through France again. Taking 3 days to tour Provence and 3 to explore Barcelona doesn't leave much time for anything else. We didn't want to be driving hundreds of miles each day but this itinerary makes it almost inevitable.

But that's all part of the fun I think. Brits all have Cliff Richard's Summer Holiday gene and we regard driving along scenic back roads full of beret wearing, onion strewn Johnny Foreigners on push bikes as part of the experience. Personally we'll have to make do with a Renault Clio instead of a big red double decker bus but nevertheless, I'm sure we'll be singing silly sixties summer songs and loving every minute of it.

Anyway that's the plan. We still have to book the Provence b&b so better get back to surfing for a good one.

"Bonnet de douche", as Del Boy would say !

The End Is In Sight.

2011-08-09T20:45:00.018+01:00

Twas the night before Christmas and all....wait. No it wasn't. It was the day before we left Norn Iron having had a wonderful touring week and anything good from now on would be a bonus as I'd nothing really planned.

Well actually I'd put in the GPS co-ordinates for a set of waterfalls at Gleno, near Larne but that wouldn't keep us busy all day. Over breakfast I checked out the guide books and decided that we should go straight to Carrickfergus, pay the castle a visit and then go to the waterfalls. That might be a good final fun day out.

And so it was that we headed towards Belfast and then veered north to Carrickfergus, a town much older than Belfast and with a stunning Norman castle dating from 1177. The view of it from the car park wall was pretty impressive, despite the overcast skies.

A short walk took us to the entrance and once inside, we came upon more cannons than I'd ever seen outside of the Vatican. First up though were a few items of siege weaponry including this wonderful machine for announcing your arrival with some authority. The drugs squad could learn a thing or two about breaking and entering from it.

Mind you, if you did break down the door, you might have been faced with these beauties for your troubles........

But even these weapons of destruction had nothing on their bigger brothers, used to ward off invaders from the sea.

These tracked RML monsters (Rifled Muzzle Loader) reminded me of the old movie "The Guns Of Navarone" and I'd never seen their like up close before. Very impressive.

But just as awesome as the guns, were the walls of the castle keep. This 90ft internal structure was like an inner fort in its own right and its stone walls were 9ft thick as can be seen in this photo of the main doorway.

I still think I'd have felt a bit safer behind those walls if it hadn't had a wooden door ! Still, there wasn't much option really and as it probably didn't come in a flat pack from IKEA, I'm sure it was pretty sturdy. The walls explain why the keep was used as an air raid shelter during World War II.

Inside the keep was a model of the castle as it was back in the day (oh come on, I HAD to get it in with a blog about a castle !!).

As we worked our way up the keep steps to the banqueting hall, we passed King John on the john which proved that even a King doesn't look very regal when on the throne.

He looks like he's waiting for a serf to arrive with some toilet paper but you know, serfing speed was pretty slow back in 1210.

Ahh ye olde jokes are the best !

The banqueting hall was pretty spectacular and it seems it can be hired for wedding receptions. What a hoot that would be. I'm not sure if the huge chess set was left over from such a reception or if the Normans were keen on a game or two while the enemy were trying to breech those 9ft walls below.

On the way back down, it was possible to get views out over the main castle walls to the sea beyond.

Back on terra firma, we had a look around the rest of the castle even though there was a wedding party on site and a bloody bagpiper was strangling his cat and disturbing the peace we had enjoyed inside the keep. Those walls were the best bagpipe insulators in the world.

With a final look around, we left the castle and went across the car park to a Brewers Fayre for a lovely lunch with views back across the marina to the castle.

Then we briefly rejoined the A2 before heading north on the B149 to the village of Gleno or Glenoe depending on which sign you looked at. Like I said at the start, I'd put the co-ordinates for the waterfalls car park into the GPS before leaving England and was I glad I had. These waterfalls must be a local secret as they are so hard to find. There are a couple of National Trust car park signs in the village but after that, you're on your own trying to find the entrance to the car park.

Even driving down along the B99 (cunningly named Waterfall Road to throw you off the scent) we could have easily missed the sharp turnoff as it wasn't signed. At the bottom was a small dead end area with no bay markings and initially, no obvious signs where to go next. We parked up and noticed an almost hidden pathway which after only a hundred yards or so, opened out to a picturesque wooden bridge leading across to the first waterfall.

The whole area was a photographers dream and everywhere you looked, the scenery was breathtaking. But the waterfall took most attention.......

Just like at Glenariff Forest Park earlier on our trip, a huge amount of effort had gone into building a fenced walkway to easily take visitors up the side of this waterfall to those above it. This walkway was much steeper and not as wide as Glenariff but it never presented a problem and the up side of the location being so hard to find was that we almost had the place to ourselves.

Back down at ground level, it was hard not to take more photos of the main waterfall and its surroundings. I'll settle for posting this final photo as it shows the stunning setting in front of the waterfall and gives a good impression of this wonderfully lush gladed location. If only I'd had my new camera then as a seamless panorama would've given more justice to the scene before me.

Back at the car we headed on to Larne and then the unanimous decision was made by Daphne to go on around the A2 coast road to Carnlough for one last look at THAT harbour. We enjoyed a last ice cream and set off for Magherafelt as my cousin's family were returning home from their holiday in the south of Ireland and we wanted to take them all out for a meal to thank them for letting us take over their house for a week.

They didn't want any fuss and so we went into town and brought home a Chinese takeaway for us all and that was very well received and saved them cooking a meal which was the whole idea.

Next morning, the trip home to Leeds was uneventful and so I'll end these Norn Iron trip posts at this point. We had a wonderful week thanks to the mostly lovely weather, the absolutely stunning scenery and the wonderful people we encountered, some for the first time. My eyes were really opened to the beauty of my home country and maybe with 'The Troubles' a thing of the past, more overseas visitors will discover this jewel in the Irish Sea.

But as a large part of the delight in touring there is the lack of traffic, hopefully, not too many !

That's One Giant Leap For.....A Giant !!!

2011-08-05T22:38:00.002+01:00

The BBC weather forecast for 15th July 2011 had not been good. In fact it had been pretty naff, even by UK summer standards.

As a result, because it listens to BBC forecasts, the sun rose early, had a quick look and decided to have a lie in.....all day. But it wasn't going to spoil OUR day. Oh no. We were going to explore funny shaped rocks and a bit of cloud and a lazy sun weren't going to stop us.

By now, I'd got into the overnight routine of recharging my camera batteries as well as my own and so my phone and dSLR were on my bedside table all ready to go snapping. Sadly for blog purposes, the dSLR remained there all day as I somehow forgot to take it with me. Given the choice, I'd have left the phone but I wasn't given the choice and so fate dealt me a nasty blow and thus it was that I went to the only World Heritage Site in all of Ireland without a decent camera.

I say for blog purposes as of course I'd been many times before, even back in the day when it was free to visit. Back then, Finn wasn't Cool yet and so tourists could visit his partly finished causeway and compare it to the stretch of motorway nearby which also went nowhere and never would. Giants aren't all that dependable it seems and easily give up on most projects. Employers beware I'd say.

Squillions of UK pounds are being spent at the moment hiding the Giant's Causeway Visitors Centre underground. I'm not really sure why as it's not like any building would hide the causeway from passing eyes as you have to walk down a long pathway to get to it. There is also a whacking great hotel on the site already so unless they plan on hiding it underground as well, the exercise seems pointless to me.

Anyway we got parked in one of the few remaining bays (parking is severely restricted during construction work) and were soon standing at the top of the pathway with a view of the possibilities just around the corner. No really. I'm being literal. The Causeway WAS just round the corner. I mean, ever one to keep tourists in suspense for as long as possible, Finn had built it well away from the casual passer by.

See the path over on the right ? Well follow it to the left and it comes to the V where the hill bit meets that sleeping camel bit (I must lay off the little red pills) and that's where the path goes around a corner.

Once there, we got our first view of The Causeway and even then, it didn't give off much of a 'wow' factor. Well it never has for me but then my eyesight isn't the best and I need to be much closer to things before they impress me. Mostly. Add to that the overcast weather and I had to get right down to the rocks before I heard an 'ooohhhh' and a few 'aaahhhhs' and even a 'wow' from Daphne.

Considering we'd left her in the restroom at the top of the path, that was pretty impressive hearing on my part !

For the next 2 hrs we walked all over the rocks and enjoyed taking photos of each other taking photos of each other.

In that last photo, Daphne looks like the atmosphere has got to her and she's about to give us a burst of Riverdance.

The rocks ARE amazing. No doubt about it. I was looking over them trying to find something different for a not-so-usual photo and this one seemed unreal, as if it was a man made entrance cover leading down to secret passageways full of leprechauns, pixies and fairies - like similar underground passageways in Disney World where the characters move around under the park unseen by the tourists. Yes, I know, I have an overactive imagination.

Mostly though, the rocks were flat and multi-sided but just as spectacular for all that.

Waves constantly crashing against the rocks have caused erosion over the centuries and it's only a question of time before The Causeway will be no more. I don't mean you need to book a ticket over to it any time soon but let's just say that if another giant isn't found to do some rebuilding, Ireland may lose its only World Heritage Site. Maybe a sea barrier would be a better idea than an underground visitor's centre but what do I know !?!

Here is a panoramic view of The Causeway. I'd advise muting the sound as the phone camera's microphone picked up a lot of wind noise and so far I've not found any editing software for reducing the audio or adding music to phone footage.

We didn't want to walk beyond the main causeway and so by 2pm we were ready to leave. The climb back up to the top and then down to the car park was completed just in time as the rain finally arrived. We drove to nearby Bushmills (of whiskey fame) and had lunch at 'The Coffee Shop' before heading back towards Magherafelt. We wanted to see some part of Lough Neagh before leaving the country as at 20 miles long and 9 miles wide, it's the largest lake in the UK.

Just a few miles short of Magherafelt, we stopped off at Ballyronan marina but the rain was still lashing down and so there wasn't much of a view, which was a shame.

Back in Magheraflt we rested up and then went out for supper. It was Daphne's 21st birthday (ha !) so I took us all out for a meal at our favourite restaurant there, Sizzlers. Going in first, I quietly asked the greeter if they did anything for people celebrating a birthday and she said they did. I just had time to tell her it was Daphne's birthday when she and Stephen came in and we were seated.

We had lovely entrees and then ordered desserts. I was beginning to think they'd forgotten about the birthday as, of course, I'd no idea what they were going to do. Suddenly a few staff members appeared with our desserts and Daphne's had a single lit candle in it. When presented to her, the staff sang 'Happy Birthday' and looked as self conscious about it as anyone would do.

It was a nice touch but unlike when this is done in most American restaurants, only the candle and song were free !

So despite the rain and generally dull day weatherwise, I think we had a great time. The next day would be our last full day in Norn Iron and we were to visit the best preserved Norman castle in Ireland and a waterfall system even better than we visited in Glenariff Forest. And best of all, I would have my camera !

To be continued..........

Norn Iron Day 6 - Garron Tower !!!

2011-08-02T13:44:00.017+01:00

After the great weather we'd had so far on the trip, Thursday 14th July was due to be overcast with a chance of scattered showers. For this reason, I decided to visit my old school as my memories of it were dreary anyway so it seemed appropriate !

No seriously, it was just because I knew we could be inside a lot of the time that made my mind up. I mean, who wants to look at scenery from inside a car on a wet day ?

The previous day we'd driven the route to the school as I would've taken it when I was a kid and so this time we drove there directly from our base in Magherafelt. Now many years ago the school ceased to be a boarding school and then it ceased to be an all boys school and last year, it ceased to be an independent school. It merged with two other schools and the name changed from St. MacNissi's College to St. Killian's College although it still retains the colloquial name of Garron Tower, being that it contains a 'tower' and is located at Garron Point along the Causeway Coast Road.

As the weather was overcast all day and I'd taken many good weather photos on previous visits to today's locations, I pretty much left the cameras in the car. I did take some however, so this won't be a totally boring text post. If you want to see the others, I published a post just over 2 years ago where I described what I felt when I first went to the school as an 11 year old back in 1963. Feel free to ignore that text and just look at the photos as the weather was much better.

Right, back to now and I was pleased to see that the old sign was still there at the entrance to the steep road that led up to the school.

I'd rung before leaving England to make sure it would be ok to visit and explore the school buildings and basically to check that the main gates wouldn't be closed. I was told that they closed them at 3pm and that was why we made it our first stop of the day. As we pulled in to the reception car park, we followed the advice on this new sign and tried to find someone to 'report to'.

We walked along a warren of old and new corridors till we finally found an office and a woman came over to us. I said I'd rung a week go and was it still ok to look around the school ? The bemused woman wasn't sure what to say but in the end she said it would be fine and so we retraced our steps and returned to the main foyer, a focal point from which to explore the building we were in.

The closest corridors were just as they had been back in the day.......my day. The classrooms had changed out of all recognition but it was still slightly upsetting for me to go into one room in particular - where I'd been taught Latin and Greek by the most physically abusive priest in the school back then. I've no wish to drag up those memories so I'll leave it at that.

We went into the gym and I was able to show Daphne the stage on which the boys performed a Gilbert & Sullivan operetta every year. With only a pool of boys to chose from, it was easy to cast the younger ones in the girl's roles and the results were very professional and were well received by the parents and friends of the pupils who made the plays an annual sell out. I still remember most of the songs from those operettas so at least something good came from my time there.

After fully exploring the rest of the building, we retuned to the foyer and went outside again. We walked down the length of the main internal road and up to the playing fields, which involved climbing over a padlocked gate. We weren't to be stopped !

We went up a steep grassy hill at the side of the main gaelic football pitch to see the Calvary statues close up. The hill top gave commanding views looking back towards the school and although most of it is hidden by trees, this photo still shows how it is built on a plateau, about 200 ft (61 m) up from the sea and the coast road and with the rest of the mountain behind it.

As we came down the hill, I looked back and snapped this photo which reminds me of the end credits for The Little House On The Prairie...but that's just me !

We returned to the main path going past the large concrete playing area which is very prominent in that 3rd photo above. I remember playing on it during a study period and being caught by the dean (of discipline). It was during my A Level exams and just a few days before I was due to leave the school forever so I didn't care. I'd mostly managed to stay out of trouble, mostly, for 7 years there and in a fit of rebellion and to kind of justify all the punishment I'd been given by both teachers and priests over those years, I simply told the dean to 'give it his best shot.' I think he put me off my privilages which was usually a big deal but with so few days remaining, it was a pretty futile punishment and we both knew it.

I'd stuck it to the man and did it feel good !!

We then went down to the 1st year dormitory but the doors were locked so I've no idea what that building is used for now. We walked along the battlements which overlooked the sea and seeing the row of cannons which pointed out to repel an enemy which never appeared, I was taken back over 40 years to a time when we would perform Shakespeare plays like Julius Caesar on those very battlements. I'd recited the "friends, Romans, countrymen" speech there and I guess the speech was made a little more memorable by my standing up there above the rest of the cast.

Finally we walked round to the front of the school and I noticed that the lawn, a huge area of grass in front of the castle part of the school, wasn't in the pristine condition it always had been in my day. In fact we weren't ever allowed to walk on the lawn and a path ran around it. We students just walked ! I know.....groan.

Now the lawn looked like it was open to all and sundry which was a shame really as it forms part of the first view that visitors get of the school.

Don't get me wrong; it was no Glastonbury on a wet weekend but it just wasn't how I remembered it either.

On one corner was the old round structure that we used to call the smoker's hut as when smoking was allowed for the older boys, this was the only place they were allowed to use for a quick light up. As a result it always reeked of stale cigarettes and the inside wall (being round, there was only one !!) was covered in teenage graffiti and inaccurate anatomical drawings which always seemed to defy the normal laws of nature and scale. Although yours truly didn't smoke, my bon mots were up there somewhere and I was saddened to find the door was padlocked so I'll never know if they still exist or have been wiped out by a generous coating of whitewash.

At this point I need to insert a portion of the Wikipedia entry for the school.

Garron Tower was built as a summer residence by Frances Anne Vane, Marchioness of Londonderry. She had inherited this part of the Antrim estates from her mother, Anne Katherine MacDonnell, Countess of Antrim who had married Sir Henry Vane-Tempest of County Durham. The Tower and grounds were purchased by McNeill's Hotel in Larne in 1915 and were acquired by the Catholic Bishop of Down and Connor in 1950 for use as a boarding school for boys. The history of Garron Tower dates from 1850, but its life as a school began in September 1951 when the Most Rev. Daniel Mageean D.D., Bishop of the Diocese of Down and Connor, officially opened the building as "a diocesan grammar school for boys" and named it St. MacNissi's College.

I've done this because the next bit is relevant to this historical reference. The smoker's hut lay at the start of a series of steps leading up to a dog's grave. This dog, Urisk, belonged to the original owner and as the headstone inscription is much weathered and thus hard to read, I'll add it here and save anyone trying to work it out from a photo.

Here Urisk lies and let the truth be told, This faithful dog was blind, infirm and old.

Deaf to all else his mistress' voice he knew, Blind though he was, his step to her was true.

So strong an instinct by affection fed, Endured till Urisk's vital spirit fled.

Stoop grandeur from thy throne ye sons of pride, To whom no want is known, nor wish denied.

A moment pause, and blush, if blush you can, To find dogs more virtue than in man.

And share, 'midst all your luxury and pelf', one thought for others out of ten for self

Lovely. I still think "Here lies Urisk. He was a dog" would've been just as good and saved a lot of carving.

The path was very overgrown and not as easy to negociate as it had been in my time there. Near the top, where lay the grave and therefore the dog's remains, the sun cast a pleasing light through the greenery and so I positioned Daphne and Stephen carefully and took a photo. Awwwww.

Back down again and it was almost time to leave. We walked around the lawn, past more cannons and up to the front of the castle facade. Turning left, we came to an archway and a tower where the nun who taught music....ah....taught. Again the door was locked and so I wasn't able to go up the stairs to the large music room where a few of us had spent many happy times polishing the wooden floor by standing on yellow dusters and doing an early Torvill and Dean impression to bring it to a potentially bone breaking shine.

These were pre 'Health & Safety' days, remember.

By now we were back at the car in front of the main reception area and while we got ready to leave, I took a final photo....of the school church. Yes, again it had been locked !

We returned down to the Causeway Coast Road, the A2, via the other road and passed the playing fields, the cliffs where I'd honed my climbing skills and the White Lady rock formation that was just a few yards from the sea.

Our route north then took us to White Park Bay and despite the overcast weather which held a hint of rain, we drove down to the small car park and then walked down to the beach. A few hardy souls had done the same thing as without the sun to warm us all, it was pretty chilly on the sand. The views were still spectacular but once again, there are better ones on that old blog post link above I posted earlier.

When the rain came, it was obviously on for the rest of the day so we headed to Ballymoney, my old home town, to explore a bit. We parked half way down Main Street as I wanted to show my friends W & J Walkers, an amazing store that was old even in my day. It has a narrow frontage which belies its internal size and I'm sure it was the inspiration for Dr. Who's Tardis. It goes on and on till you're convinced you'll exit outside the town's boundary.

I've always loved how the layout of the stock has been very carefully planned with small tourist type items of dust catching souvenirs giving way to larger pieces of china, glass and silverware. Then comes general household items found in most hardware stores from cutlery and kitchen tools to microwaves, cookers and fridges. These units lead on to the DIY section with paint pots of every colour you can imagine and every handy tool and item of equipment known to man. Finally, for those who have the stamina to get that far, comes the carpet area with full rolls lining both sides of a narrow pathway.

Aladdin's cave doesn't do it justice and it was wonderful to explore it again and I even spent £1.40p on two nail brushes which I use to scrub baked potatoes !

We walked around the main shopping area, ducking into shops when the rain came. I was delighted to see that our butcher's shop was still there, Olphert's, and I popped in to have a quick word with the son of the owner who still remembered me through my parents. We'd bought all our meat from Olphert's when I was growing up and my mum still did so until 2004 when she left Ballymoney for the nursing home where she died a month later. I vividly remember us calling for bacon and sausages on the way home from church every Sunday morning and then dad 'slinging the pan' to cook up his version of an Ulster Fry with eggs and soda bread added to the meat.

Back in the shop, I could've done without the parting firm handshake as the owner's son had just been packaging mince and passed a few grams onto me. Free meat. I shouldn't really complain. Pity he hadn't been cutting steak !

After a while we were getting tired (and wet) walking in the drizzle and headed back to the car. Our touring was done for the day and we headed for Magherafelt and supper.

It hadn't been a scenery day but it had been memorable none the less. Many memories had been awakened within me, some good, some bad.

And let's face it; it still beat working !

The next day we finally went to the area's most famous tourist attraction and the only World Heritage Site in Ireland, the Giant's Causeway. And someone forgot their camera !

To be continued.........

Forests, Fens And Facebook Friends

2011-07-30T21:00:00.022+01:00

When we left our intrepid threesome, Daphne, Stephen et moi, it was the end of Day 4 of our tour around the Causeway Coast and now it's the next day, Day 5........which just happens to be July 13th 2011. Get it ? Got it ? Good.

Dawn had broken, fixed itself and was now having some porridge and a cup of tea. We, on the other hand, made do with cereal, toast and bananas.

This was to be a wonderful day, a day of exploring glens, discovering waterfalls and meeting friends from Facebook for the very first time. So sit back and let me tell you the story.....

We left Magherafelt and headed for Logan's Corner on the A26 between Ballymoney and Ballymena. Why ? Well although we were going to Glenariff Forest Park, this was on the route I took many times back in the day when going to my boarding school. I wanted to retrace that trip, or at least most of it, and so a good starting point was from Logan's Corner. We passed through Cloughmills, Clough and Martinstown and once beyond the hamlet of Cargan on the A43, we came to the entrance to the forest park.

Glenariff is one of the Nine Glens of Antrim and if you place your hand face down and then imagine you have 10 digits, the fingers would be the mountain ranges and the gaps between them, the nine glens all sweeping down to the sea. Ok a bit of artistic licence there but basically that's the idea and of the nine, Glenariff is 'The Queen.'

At the end of the entrance road, you only pay a small fee to park and then you have access to several very well signposted walks and we chose the 3 kilometre Waterfall Walk for obvious reasons. We love waterfalls.

The route to the waterfalls was stunning. It started as a lovely wide path with trees, plants and woodland critters on both sides.

Yeah, those were some of the critters I was talking about and here are some more. Well ok, birds actually.

After a while we really got deep into the bowels of the forest and the path became an awesome wooden, fenced deck that took us all around the initial waterfalls. To quote the website, "this path features the waterfalls and National Nature Reserve. There are stairways and pathways cut into the near vertical sides of the gorge and boardwalks on stilts in the river. It is a spectacular walk."

I would agree. The work that went into creating this walkway was clear to see and made visitor's lives a LOT easier, I can tell you.

Then we came to the waterfalls but even if there had not been any, the walk down through the forest would've been worth the car park fee.

By now we had worked up, or walked up, a hearty appetite and lo and behold, we came upon a full blown restaurant, Laragh Lodge. Here we had a much needed sit down and delicious light meal as we knew we had more walking to come. As locations go, Laragh Lodge has to have one of the best, situated as it is at the mid point of the Waterfall Walk and surrounded by forest, streams and waterfalls. A stunning and very welcome eatery.

That was the view looking back at the restaurant and turning around, this was the view the other way. Not too shabby.

We had now seen all the waterfalls on this route and started the steep ascent back to the visitor centre and car park.

While Daphne and Stephen looked for souvenirs, I stayed outside and enjoyed the views from the beautiful picnic area in front of the building which overlooked the forest and led the eye right down the glen to the sea in the distance.

Leaving the park, we rejoined the A43 and drove down the glen to Waterfoot where we met up with the Causeway Coast Road again, the A2. There were stunning views all the way down and although I never really enjoyed them when growing up as they meant I was close to school again, I can enjoy them now.

Now we were on a part of the A2 we'd seen before but it didn't matter.....you see new things on every trip. We passed round Waterfoot Bay and headed towards Garron Point and my old school but as we were to visit there another day, we didn't stop.

Soon we were back in Daffy's favourite town, Carnlough, and we just had to stop again and yes, take similar photos again. First up is the lady in question about to take one of her many photos of the harbour entrance.

After a short walk around and then ice creams, we left to drive on to Larne to meet up with those Facebook friends, Fiona, JB and Liam. I'd first met Liam on FB as he too went to Garron Tower, my old boarding school. He'd left the year I arrived so we never knew each other but we'd chatted online and that's how I got to meet his sister Fiona and her hubby, JB. Here is a photo of Fiona sandwiched between two hunks.

It was too warm to be inside so we talked and had tea outside on their patio. Fiona and JB have a lovely home and I'd like to take this opportunity to say thank you to them both, and Liam, for making us so welcome and we really enjoyed our all too short time with them.

We left about 6:30pm and as it was too early to return to Magherafelt, the consensus was to return to Carnlough and make our way home from there. Actually for consensus, read Daffy bullying us to return. She can be quite scary at such times.

When we got there and parked up, the pre sunset light was beautiful and so.....yes again......we took MORE photos of the harbour. The reflections were very pronounced and I can image the second photo as a jigsaw as it would drive anyone nuts.

Then it WAS time to go home and what a day we had to look back on. The Causeway Coast Road is a must to see and if nothing else, I hope reading these blog posts will give some idea of what it's like to drive its length and visit the area in general.

To be continued..........