Knaresborough Revisited

Yesterday I went to Knaresborough as I wanted a day trip out.

I knew the roads and major attractions would be busy (damn those school holidays) so I stayed local and Knaresborough is only a 30 minute drive away.

In February maybe. Yesterday it took me well over an hour to get to the car park and even that was after going off my planned route almost from the get-go. I was merrily driving along on the A61 Harrogate Road and enjoying both the sunshine and Radio 2, when after only 7 minutes, I came upon stationary traffic just before my turnoff at Harewood House.

We moved a few feet in the next 7 minutes so when I reached the turnoff to Wike, I took it and went this alternative way to Wetherby. I wasn't in a rush but I never see the need to sit in traffic when there is a way to avoid it.

I'd no further problems till I got to Knaresborough itself and suddenly I came upon stationary traffic again. This time is was being caused by a policeman who had taken over the duties of the traffic lights at a busy junction but he didn't seem to be giving enough time to those of us on the main road and so a line of vehicles had built up stretching back about a mile. As most cars were passing him, their drivers tried to tell him that he wasn't helping the traffic flow at all but with his arms flapping about like a hummingbird in full courtship mode, he wasn't taking onboard any advice from anyone.

"Move along now, nothing to talk to me about here" said Knaresborough's Barbrady, as he directed traffic and landed 3 light aircraft.

Parking at the top of the town or anywhere on the main street was out of the question and so I headed down the hill to the car park across the road from The Worlds End pub.

This quaint name has to be down to good Old Mother Shipton, the local prophetess who said the world would end in 1881 and loads of other things that were mostly added to her prophecy list AFTER she died. Even I would be a prophet under those conditions.

But being a load of rubbish hasn't stopped a few canny businessmen turning it into a bit of a tourist trap and so if you want to spend some time and money, they will happily take both.

But the pub is very nice and in a prime location at the side of the road bridge from which you can get wonderful views of the River Nidd as it flows under the famous railway bridge. However the more pictureque views are from the castle which looks down on both the river and the railway bridge from the other side so for now, here is my first photo from the road bridge.

As you can see, this is a popular stretch of the river for boating although unlike in America, few Brits have their own and so have to hire them on arrival.

And once we used to rule the seas !!

Anyway after I'd taken a few pics, I took the narrow road down to the west bank of the river and went to one of the locations where you could hire one of the rowing boats for an hour.

I seem fated to photograph lines of rowing boats this summer but these ones actually did have some artistic value given their uniformity. Unlike the ones in Windermere last week, these boats were only different in one way - the numbers painted on their sides.

I wanted to climb onboard and take a photo from the middle of one, but both their unsteadiness and the fact that their owner looked like an ex wrestler dissuaded me from making the attempt.

The image does kinda hurt your eyes after a while so, as with looking at the sun, don't stare at it for too long.

Of course like with the sun, it's perfectly ok to stare at the photo once it gets dark.

A handy little tip there.

Just as well they had plenty of boats as rowing on The Nidd seemed to be very popular. I guess it brings out the MAN in some people (mostly men I have to say) and so many of the boats were being rowed by men out to impress their women but given the physique of most of them, a trip to the chiropractor would've been on the cards today.

The family men had their role sorted and they had no need to impress anyone. They were happy to sit back and let the kids do the hard work. That way the dad's arm muscles were left relaxed enough to lift a few pints in the pub later than night while the kids were fast asleep at 7pm - totally knackered but happy.

I moved on and went up a steep cobbled street towards the railway station which naturally put me at the same level as the bridge. I noticed that some of the houses had false windows painted in between real ones - quite bizarre but in a good way. As well as making the facade more impressive (if one of your criteria for impressive facades is the number of windows), the artwork was somehow in keeping with this funky town.

Oh and you thought it was just a boring window painted onto the wall ? Oh gosh no. The witty, and probably drug crazed owners, have inserted characters and animals into their artwork.

In this case a character is seen pouring water onto the luckless people below...........well you'll have to imagine the people below as they must be the people who stand looking up at the fake window.

Wow for a few moments I was a living part of this creation. Cool. My next stop, an equity card.

Of course as with all my photos, you can see a larger version if you click on it. Makes seeing the window a lot easier.

Oh ok then......I'll make it even easier............................

As I walked around the town later. I noticed more of these false windows and best of all was where one was above another and the bottom one had a zebra with the body and legs of a giraffe behind it and then in the upstairs window they'd painted the rest of the neck and the head.

Now that was cool. Still bizarre of course.

But back to the railway station. I'd opened a small gate at the end of the cobbled road and found myself on the edge of the tracks with another gate across from me and the continuation of the street. To my left was the station platform and to my right the tracks stretched off over the bridge. I wondered if a train was due anytime soon as I thought it would make a good photograph from this vantage point. I walked about 10 paces to the right along a narrow wooden boardwalk to the bottom of the steps leading up to the sigmal box.

Even though the door was open and I could hear movement inside, I didn't want to suddenly appear in the box itself so I shouted up, asking if anyone could help me. Nothing. I tried again and this time Mr. Grumpy McEmployee came to the doorway and when I asked for the time of the next train in any direction, he started shouting that I was trespassing. I was truly shocked but as the deed was already deeded, I asked again about the trains. His keen eye obviously had me marked as a troublemaker who would most likely lie down on his tracks and mess up his station when my inert body was hit by the 2:15 from Upper Mucklington as he then said "I've got CCTV cameras here you know"

Now I was in a panic as I'd not washed my hair since Monday. "Ok" I answered, slowly separating the K from the O to show I wasn't intimidated by his threat of modern technology. "But what about the trains" ?

Showing all the customer relation skills that single out railway employees nationwide, he said the information I sought was on a board back on the platform walls. He wasn't quite as eloquent as that but I got the message. I think I'd just met Officer Barbrady's older brother.

I decided I didn't need a photo of a train badly enough to go to the platform and so I left Mr. Jobsworth to his flask of tea and ham sandwich......just ham, nothing else. You know the type.
No fancy la-di-da butter/mayo/lettuce/tomato in MY sandwiches, thank you very much.

Looking back at the signal box I did see a small red sign saying something like "No Trespassing On The Railway Line" but for one thing, it said nothing about walking on the wooden boardwalk to the signalbox steps and for another thing, the sign needed to be on the gate where you could actually see it. Mutter, mutter.

The street led on up to the edge of the town and the castle, which was my destination.

I've been many times to Knaresborough and with every visit, I take photos from the top looking down at the river and the viaduct railway bridge. It's just so darn purty.

But this time my eye was initally taken by a boxum woman dressed in period costume who was sitting on a low part of the castle wall and was talking to a raven. Yes you read right. Talking to a raven. Now whether said raven was taking any notice of buxom period woman is another matter altogether but it certainly was a crowd stopper.

In this photo, the pair seem to have had a falling out, maybe words were said, and the raven has turned it's back on her.

Buxom lady, who had Igraine on her name badge, took the opportunity to talk to passers by.
I suspect that wasn't her real name as it just happens to the name of the mother of King Arthur of Round Table fame.

But who knows ? Anyone who is prepared to sit all day with 3 ravens and talk to them from time to time may well have changed her name from Betty Buxomwench to Igraine Roundtable-Smythe. She looked the type.

Of course I might be totally wrong and she might have been Mrs. Jobsworth and if so, my heart goes out to her. But I don't think so......she had a lovely friendly face and a personality to match.















She was just perfect for talking to kids and Japanese tourists, none of whom would have a clue
what this strange woman in a red frock was doing at Knaresborough Castle with 3 ravens.

If I interpreted the situation correctly, one excitable Japanese passerby thought he was in the presence of JK Rowling herself and the ravens only added to that impression. Is he in for a legpulling when he shows his snaps back at work !!

And then it was back to that view from the castle. Like I said, I've stood in the same spot many times over the years and taken the very photos of the very same view. And it never ceases to impress me. I'll simply lump 2 photos together as they just take you closer to the bridge.
















Some time later I took an even closer photo of the bridge and looking at it now with these other 2, I see the bridge stonework appears as a different colour - not sure why that would be but I WAS messing about with the camera settings and that had to have caused it.

Never mind, it's a nice photo so I'll keep it.

They really knew their business back in ye olden days when building these castles of ours. Whoever picked the locations had an eye for more than making sure the castle would be hard to attack and easy to defend.

Goes to show that the oft used realtor phrase "location, location, location" was just as important back then as it is now. If one was unlucky enough to be selling a castle NOT on top of a hill, I can just imagine the advert...............

Property ? One almost new castle for sale. Hardly damaged really but needs a bit of work to make it habitable. Expect high heating bills (due to lack of roof), any furniture would need to be waterproof (again due to lack of roof) and expect huge cleaning bills (yes due to missing roof AGAIN). Excellent stone built construction with numerous arrow slits to be used to fend off unwelcome IRS visitors. Battlements good for pouring of boiling oil etc.
Location ? Deep in a valley - but this is reflected in the asking price.
Views ? Unless you look upwards, none really.
Price ? Make me an offer. Please.

Just isn't going to work is it ? No, castles are always built with views to die for.........and attackers usually did. No wonder they've lasted so well and are such tourist traps today.

Back in Knaresborough and I went out of the castle gates ( there really isn't very much of the actual castle left apart from one tower area in the corner and the low walls) and into the town. It was market day and although it was only 3:15pm, a lot of the stalls were gone and the rest were in the process of joining them.

It was a typical small town market with stalls selling clothing, cds and dvds, household products, cakes and confectionery, crockery and jewellery.

The more specialist fish and meat stalls or vans had closed up and left except one van which had been selling fish from Whitby. It had a side panel which opened up to become both counter and awning and by now the owners were disposing of the ice used to keep the fish fresh.

It was all very English and I enjoyed walking slowly around the remaining stalls in the summer sunshine.

Then it was back to the castle as I wanted to return to the car park a different way. I took the steep path and steps down to the river and took one last photo of the view towards the bridge from that point of view.

There are a few cafe areas alongside the river as you can see here and their tables were packed with people taking the weight off, as we'd say here.

This gave them the best access to the river and I stayed there for some time and no one was rushing to leave their chairs and move on. Who could blame them ?

It was a very pleasant scene with a few swans and other wildlife mingling with the rowing boats out on the water. The limp flag shows there was no wind at all and it was warm without being hot.

I wanted to be on the road and home by 5pm as the trip would be a nightmare at rush hour. With this in mind I headed along the path you see on the extreme right - it went under one of the viaduct arches and on to the road bridge beyond and then I was back at The Worlds End pub. My circuit was complete.

When I got to the huge 'leg' of the viaduct, a boat went by and it just summed up all the other boats out on the river.

The mother and daughter sitting at the back relaxing and enjoying being taken for a ride - or a row. Mother would be back in charge when they got home but for now, she was happy to literally take a back seat.

The son trying his best not to take them all into the riverside greenery and only doing so by zig-zagging along and not impressing anyone. He'd be going to university in October and would be wanting to show he could take care of himself but wasn't quite ready for a car just yet and would probably get a bicycle in the meantime.

And dad. He's let himself go just about as much as he feels he can. The jacket has come off but the shirt and tie remain......well he's not quite ready for the t-shirt and shorts. Oh no. Maybe when they go to Cyprus for a week in September but not in England. One has standards. But the hat is fine. Shows a casual attitude but with some decorum and class.

The clothing reflects their characters and the waters of The Nidd reflects the rest.

Once up on the main road, I resisted the lure of Mother Shipton again, left the car park and was home in time for tea. It's great to have towns like Knaresborough nearby and I try not to take it for granted.

I'm sure I'll be back again and if that's not a prophecy, then it's a pretty safe bet.

How To Increase Your Visitor Count - Maybe

I'm sure I've not discovered the blog equivalent of penicillin here or anything but over the last week or so it hit me how to greatly increase the number of visitors a blog gets.

Simply make references to upcoming events of any kind, or places of interest around the world or.......well just about anything at all that people search for on Google.

In the small resort town of Houghton Lake, there is an annual event (every year in fact !) called the Bud Bash..........that's the Bud Bash folks...........where a local watering hole (which happens to be located right on the shores of an even bigger watering hole) hosts a sort of drunken weekend and many thousands of young people flock there to, well drink and basically have a fun time doing so.

Not my cup of Earl Gray of course but it takes all sorts.

Anyway, last year I was staying in Houghton Lake when this visually amazing event took place and I wrote a few words about it in this blog. This meant that in the week or so leading up to Bud Bash 2007, I got loads of hits as people went googling for articles about it. I made it onto page one of the search results and as we all know, few people bother to go beyond page one so I got numerous hits. Yes I know that few stayed long enough to actually READ my posts, but in the sad world of counting blog visitors, numbers are king.

So this got me thinking, a blog worthy event on it's own.

If I got all those hits just by mentioning something like Bud Bash, how many hits would I get if I mentioned an upcoming world-renowned sporting event or even better, a few tourist locations that everyone would want to visit ?

So here goes.

The Great Wall Of China
NASA
Tiger Woods
Disney
San Francisco
Machu Picchu
The World Series
London
New York
Paris
Rome
Leeds City Market (heyyyy, it's MY list)
PGA Championship
Lewis Hamilton
The Bourne Ultimatum
Fake Steve Job
Madeleine McCann (sorry but this IS a test)
Foot And Mouth
Premiership Fixtures
George W Bush
Bangkok
Manchester United (really desperate now)
2007 (if all else fails)
God

Ok the list could be endless and my brain hurts now. It's not used to having to work BC (before cereal). I'm sure search engines will be clever enough to not display this blog just because someone adds 2007 to their search request but you never know. I'll just see what sort of global t'internet chaos ensues and keep you informed.

Oh ok then, just one more.............. Richard Branson

If this cunning plan works, I suspect Virgin Media could be broken by lunchtime.

I Enjoyed Summer - Part 2

..................and so Lord Voldemort rose up with his Death Eaters and sent a bolt of magic energy down to earth and totally obliterated Scotland.

"No chance of a Book 8" he snarled and even the muggles cheered. Well, he had just obliterated Scotland !

THE END

Ok that was just for those who managed to read Part 1 before coming to this post. Sometimes blogs can be a continuity nightmare with the latest posts coming first, but I guess it has to be that way.

But back to Tuesday and summer. I left the grandly named Fell Foot Country Park and drove on opp north to the bustling tourist town of Windermere. Bustling wasn't the word to describe it......it was more bursting than bustling. I drove round the main parking roads twice before striking lucky and, coming upon a car pulling out from the roadside, I took it's place and sat for a few moments with some satisfaction that I was in a prime location near the lake.

When I got out to lock the car, I glanced at the roadside and saw 2 double yellow lines and I didn't have to look far for the nearest signpost warning me that I shouldn't be parked there at ANY time. It was right beside my passenger door ! Don't you just hate it when that happens ?
The car in front already had a parking ticket on it's windscreen and this answered any thoughts I might have had that the standard rules about double yellow lines didn't apply on Tuesday's in Cumbria. I moved on.

On my 3rd revolution I found someone leaving from a legal parking spot and I reversed expertly into the vacant gap. Thankfully parallel parking is one of my strong points as I had an audience of hundreds sitting on the grass nearby who were watching and hoping to hear the sound of metal on metal. They'd have had a long wait in any case as the only metal parts on my Clio are the wheel nuts. At least I hope they're metal.

By now it was 2:30pm and as I'd not eaten since my cereal at 9am, I was starving. I was at the wrong end of Windermere for the shops and restaurants although right across the road was a place selling the usual burgers and hot dogs. When you're hungry, the smell from these places tends to overcome your natural instincts to avoid them like the plague. I looked at the menu and discovered it also sold fish and chips and ice cream. Such a variety of food choices actually put me off as it brought to mind the old premise of 'jack of all trades but master of none'. Seeing the mounds of ready cooked burgers and sausages sitting near the serving window did nothing to tempt me further and the draw of the nearby pub won me over.

And very nice it was too. It was almost empty which was both a surprise and a delight. It overlooked the lake (as one had to climb 2 flights of steps to gain entry) with wonderful all round views of the lake and the town.

From the large menu, I ordered a British standard, bangers and mash, and was happy that the time it took to bring it to me let me know it was all cooked to order.

The portion, 3 huge bulging pork sausages on an enormous bed of real mashed potatoes, coated with rich onion gravy with carrots and cabbage, would've pleased even the most obese Texan visitor. I took in the lake views between fork fulls and ate slowly but it still outfaced me. I had to leave a whole sausage, quite a large amount of potato and, naturally, all of the cabbage. Vile stuff and should only be used for decoration.

More than satisfied and quite ready for an after meal nap, I stepped out and took this photo from the top of the steps.

It shows the lower end of the lake where the steamers dock and where the visitors are almost outnumbered by the plethera of swans, gulls, ducks, pigeons, bald eagles and the odd albatross.

Well maybe not the last 2 but certainly plenty of the others. These lovely pests are so tame that they will often sit right beside a group of people on the wooden benches that surround the lake at this location. You almost have to stand on them to get them to move and even then they only waddle a few feet before dropping down again with the effort. To say they are dangerously overfed would be putting it mildly.

I watched with a mixture of amusement and mounting horror as a large swan tried to take off and it reminded me of Orville taking off in Disney's The Rescuers. Thankfully the lake was 12 miles long as it seemed to me that swan needed every inch of it to get airborne.

Most of it's feathered pals were content to chill out and doze on the shingle by the edge of the lake and were too well fed to even take free handouts from passing tourists.

You could go up and tap them on the head if you so wanted and even then they'd just give you a glare and hardly move a muscle - if indeed they had any that weren't permanently seized up.

As usual there were loads of kids who were taken with this ability to get right up close to nature. I know these weren't pink flamingos and we weren't in Ngorongoro, but these kids didn't care. And with kids, came proud parents taking photos. Hey lets get a shot of (ASBO) Timmy hitting a swan with a plastic cricket bat. Lovely.

Speaking of others taking photos, Windermere was full of Japanese tourists and every one had a camera. Long gone are the days when American and Japanese tourists would visit here with several large cameras around their necks. The world has gone digital and cameras have gone microscopic. Now tourists hold up the equivalent of a credit card and seem to have the ability to take a photo and eat a hot dog at the same time. Quite what those photos look like is a mystery to me but given modern technology and computer software, I'm sure they are just fine for the family album...........on a dvd of course.

This group was particularly active on the shore line and I met them later up on the steep narrow streets of the town. They'd snap anything with a heartbeat and if you think they're pointing their little cameras at wildlife in this photo, you'd be wrong.

The object of their lenses was a little boy who was simply throwing bread at the birds. The only reason I can think of why they were doing this was because the boy had blond hair which I assume is quite rare in Japan.

It was a bit worrying that they were so excited by this but the boy's dad was nearby so I guess it was all above board. Maybe he'd never heard of the internet and I wasn't going to give him sleepless nights by educating him ! I just hope those tourists never make it to Roundhay Park !!

I still was only a few feet from where I'd parked the car - it really was a great location. Nearby was the main boarding point for the little 'train' that toured the area and might even have gone up into the town. I'm not sure it was powerful enough to get up the steep hill though and I think the narrow streets would've been too much for it as well.

Even so, it was very popular and every time I saw it, it was packed.

One of the great things about Windermere is that it hasn't given in to the worst excesses of 'Seaside Britain' with lines of arcades and slot machines.

I know it's not a seaside location but it could easily have gone that way. In fact The Lake District in general provides a wonderful escape from such tourist tat and has managed to combine the needs of the tourist with the need to keep the natural beauty of the area as unspoilt as possible.

Of course every place has it's characters or even eccentrics and Windermere is no different. I wouldn't go so far as to call the owner of this motorbike the later but he was definitely the former. Who else would turn a motorbike into a touring taxi ? Who else would place so many lights on the front that if they were all turned on at once, would blind low flying pilots.

The low flying pilots bit isn't all that far fetched as while I was there, numerous jets screamed up the length of the lake and they weren't that far off the water.

They had to be training for low level attacks and at one point I was left hoping that Orville had made it to a comfortable cruising altitude or else he'd have made a hell of a mess either on the jet's 'windscreen' or a bigger mess if sucked into it's engine. We'll never know.

At this point in the post I may as well admit that I've been trying for an amusing and witty coming together of the words 'swan' and 'lake' but the desire to do so is affecting the flow of my creative juices (ohh err) so I'm admitting defeat and moving on...........

Back at Lakeland Station, I'd seen The Teal dock and take on more passengers for the voyage up to Windermere. The other 2 steamers were out and about on the lake as well and here is a photo of The Tern leaving the dock at Windermere.

Again you can see how packed it was and every trip on every steamer was the same. It was good to see the business thriving.

By now I was close to the start of the hill which led up to the town so I took a deep breath and headed up there........

.......took a quick look and headed right back down again. "Nothing to see here" as Officer Bar Brady would have said.

If you've never visited a quaint Lake District town before, it's probably worth a visit. If, however you've had your fill of twee stores selling everything from Beatrix Potter tea sets to locally created toffee, then Officer Brady's words will ring true.

The buildings however were worth seeing and there were colourful hanging baskets and pleasing greenery everywhere. It was all very pretty and the very narrowness of the streets meant that cars crawled along at a snail's pace and this made crossing quite easy.

This image reminds me of the famous Lombard Street in San Francisco. I realise you have to scrunch up your eyes a bit and let reality take a short vacation but if you look at the photo in this link, you might just see what I'm getting at.

Of course Lombard Street is one way. It's also tiled. It doesn't have any shops on it. It doesn't have a mini roundabout half way down it. I think I may have talked myself out of this comparison.

Back on level ground, so to speak, I found a small area that was almost free of tourists on the land and boats on the water.........moving ones that is. It was almost Venetian like with the row of unattended wooden boats bobbing up and down.

Ok no more silly comparisons from now on. I promise.

Behind me, dozens of people were still taking photos of the obese and almost flightless birds. The burgers and hot dogs were still being consumed with little regard to vascular consequences.

And it was time for me to leave Windermere.

But first I had a photographic mission to complete. Up on the hill next to my parked car, there was a small funfair. Very small. But it had some fast moving rides and I wanted to try another camera technique - capturing a fast moving subject at a slow speed. Hope that makes some sense.

I climbed the hill and found what I wanted......the dodgem ride.

Now what I really needed was a leg of the Tour De France to whiz by or a racehorse to gallop along the main street in Windermere ......two unlikely events where the moving subject goes past at a fair old speed and does so for quite some time, in photographic terms.

That way one can hold focus on the biker or the horse and easily pan along, take a snap and hopefully end up with a lovely sharp image of the subject with a blurred background giving the impression of speed.

I had to make do with the dodgems. Dodgems aren't known for blazing turns of speed in one direction but rather are known for going quite slowly for a very short distance and then coming to a complete and sudden stop. I had my work cut out and once again I gave thanks for the development of digital cameras.

I panned as best I could when this involved such short distances but quite often when someone got a 'run' going, I'd be about to take the photo when they'd hit or be hit and the 'run' would end.

Then the whole ride would end and I'd stand around waiting for enough new punters to come forward so that the dodgem operator would decide to let the carnage begin again.

These 2 photos were the best of the bunch I took (click to enlarge of course) and made me realise I've still a lot to learn - although the main lesson I learned was that dodgem cars do not make good subjects for this technique.

I wanted to try something else and next to the dodgem ride was a sort of bouncy castle tower thing where kids would climb up and hurl themselves down a vertical slide and land at the bottom (where else ??) with much merriment and residual bouncing. The thing is, the drop was SO steep that once a young and tender body left the top, no part of that body touched anything until it hit the bottom. It wasn't so much a slide as.......a fall.

Anyway it seemed as good a place to try and see if I could halt time - not in a Dr. Who way but in a photographic way. This time the background didn't lend itself to movement so I used shutter priority to try and freeze a little body in mid fall.

After watching a few kids falling this way, I actually felt my photos could be used as insurance evidence. Often kids would hit the bottom so hard and fast that the resulting bounce would propel them forwards into potential law suit territory.

The area in front of the striped bottom part was grass but that wouldn't provide much protection for growing bones and newly created teeth.

Maybe I'm just old and worry too much. I know. The kids didn't care and after a few squeals of delight, most would scramble back to the bouncy ladder to do it all over again.

I left them to it and went back to the car. It was 6:10pm when I left Windermere and headed back the way I'd arrived. I knew I'd be passing quite close to the railway station with it's 6:45pm Victorian Evening and as exciting as that sounded, well I just couldn't be bothered. What did the Victorians ever do for me ?

Nada.

I drove home and due to a much lighter traffic flow, I made it to my comfy settee in 2 hours.

I enjoyed Summer 2007 very much and it gave me lots of memories. I'm already planning for Summer 2008 which I'm reliably informed by the BBC Extreme Long Range Weather Forecast team will be on July 23rd. Severe flooding to follow.

Make a note in your diary.

I Enjoyed Summer - Part 1

Ah yes. Summer 2007. It was a day to remember !

Summer 2007 was yesterday by the way, and I decided to get out and enjoy it - by doing what we Brits do when the sun is out and the sky is blue. I headed to a packed tourist trap which involved sitting in a traffic jam as like I just said, every other non working Brit made the same decision.

You'd think I have known better but I guess the sun was affecting my brain even before I left the house. It does tend to have that effect on us here in still slightly damp Britain. I call it 'Yellow Orb Syndrome' and when it strikes, normally sensible people lose all control of their minds and feel this primeval urge to head toward water.....or the pub. Whichever is closer.

And recently you could use one to get to the other. What a great nation.

In my defence, I reasoned that it was a Tuesday and so not everyone with a car would be out on the roads. As a plan, it sucked big time. Not even worthy of Baldrick.

My destination was The Lake District and to make it a bit different from other road trips to that part of England, I was going to take a ride on a steam train. When I got there I mean. Wouldn't like anyone to think there is a steam train that goes from Leeds to The Lake District. Mr. Branson please note......might be onto a winner with THAT idea.

I'm not a steam train (or even a normal train) freak so I've managed to get to this advanced age without sampling it's delights. I just thought it'd be a cool thing to do.

I'd wanted to set off at 10am on the dot and so I reversed out of the driveway right on time - at 10:15am. Wellllllll, I'm a free spirit and not weighed down by conventional time constraints. I also had to poop just before I left and that played havoc with my timetable. I know.....TMI. Sorry.

The 'best' road to take to get from here to TLD is the A65 which is very appropriate as the distance involved is........65 miles. Spooky isn't it ? It's as if they somehow knew this when allocating the road number. No wonder it takes forever to drive around the Leeds Outer Ring Road though (A6120).

With every man and his dog (and his wife and 2.5 kids) on the road too, it took me 45 minutes to get past Ilkley which is only 17 miles. I was ready to go home. I mean the Orb was out and I was missing all of it. Things got better after Ilkley and I pulled into the car park of The Lakeside & Haverthwaite Railway station at 12:30 - just in time for the 13:00 departure.

Well when I say 'pulled into' I really mean I stopped and handed over £1.50 to Cumbria's answer to Rain Man and then tried to cram my car into a parking space only just wide enough for me to open the door and squeeze out without taking paint from the camper van next to me. It wasn't so much a car park as a fertile breeding ground for bodyshops nationwide.

The line to the little ticket booth was long and VERY slow moving. No one seemed to just get to the booth, hand over their money, take their ticket and move on. Oh no. It was like being behind a line of women at a supermarket checkout. Suddenly everything from the total cost of the tickets to how many were in their party seemed to come as a shock to them. How much ? How many of us ? And so the counting and figuring would go on.....and on.....and on. I know not everyone thinks to check prices BEFORE getting to such places but come on people. You should at least know how many kids you've got so that it doesn't come as a shock when you have to pay for them all.

And so it was 12:57 when I finally got to the booth, handed over my 'all ready in my hand' money, got my ticket and was on my way all within 30 seconds. Victor Mildred needed to calm down and chill and he was in the right place for once. There is nothing like a slow relaxing steam train ride to bring down the blood pressure and after the stress of the road trip, having to pay to park in a space better suited to a push bike and then having to stand in line behind a coach outing from Dysfunctional Families In The Community, my blood pressure was off the scale.

The station beyond the ticket booth was very pretty indeed and although the train was already at the platform and steam was coming from every part of the engine, I felt I had just enough time to walk about and take some photos.

I guess I felt that as long as the carriage doors were lying open, I would have time to jump on even if the train was moving off.

Guess again. That might've been ok in the movies or in the Golden Age of Steam when this train wasn't an antique. In these days of Health & Safety. the passengers all need to be inside with their seatbelts fastened before the train sets off. Well maybe not the seat belt part. I just made that up.

With the station clock already showing 1pm and with the engine belching steam impressively, I had to rush to the far end to get a photo of the beast. There was a bridge over the line but I knew I'd not be able to get up on top and back down in time to take my seat and so I made do with a shot from the end of the platform looking back at the engine.

The front of it was almost under the bridge which is why it's a bit dark. I think that helps make the steam appear even more white than it was - so I've not tinkered with it.

By the time I walked back to my carriage of choice, the whistleblower was closing all the doors and about to do his thing. I jumped on board (and not in a sophisticated and casual Cary Grant way but more in a desperate and breathless Mr. Bean way) and settled down for the ride.

Within seconds I was on my feet again and taking photos like a madman out the carriage door window. You've seen the type of shot on every train journey documentary ever made. The train going round a bend so you see the engine and first few carriages; the train going along past fields with cute cows and cuter sheep; the train approaching a bridge/lake/area of outstanding beauty. You get the picture, so to speak.

My idea was to take all the photos on this outbound journey and then be able to sit down and enjoy the return leg without getting up from my seat at all.

My carriage wasn't full but I have to say the number of people on the train was very impressive and if that was typical, then it's survival should be assured.

Just about every group had a camera owner among it's number and a few even had the notebook that always accompanies the serious train enthusiast.

When I'd checked the web site, I'd noticed that there was a special Victorian Evening surrounding the 6:45pm train journey and it was tempting to be there for that. Maybe lots of the passengers would be dressed accordingly. I decided if I was in the area near the time, I would pop along.

And so, 18 minutes later, we ended up at Lakeside and it's pretty station right on the shores of Lake Windermere, the largest lake in England.

Most people got off the train to wander around the area but I just hung around the station platform as the return trip was due in 15 minutes.

This still gave me plenty of time to take in the scenery and watch what was going on out on the lake.

There was a long line waiting to board the MV Tern for the 35 minute cruise along the lake. Built in 1891, this is the oldest steamer working on the lake and one of at least 16 large passenger steamers and launches taking people on lake cruises. Add to that the hundreds of personal boats of all kinds and you can begin to imagine how busy the lake becomes in summer - which was yesterday, remember. I'm sure they've all gone into dry dock today, what with summer being over an' all.

The 3 steamers, the Swan, the Teal and the Tern, can carry over 1400 passengers so it didn't matter that the line outside the station was long. They'd all get onboard easily enough. While enjoying the fact that few railway stations in the world could be located only a few feet from a lake, the Tern swept majestically into view and in no time was swinging around to dock right next to the small building in the last photo.














I'll add 2 images of the steamer; the first because it shows that the lake is surrounded by a wonderful backdrop of trees and hills and the second is to show off the steamer better as those very trees have made it difficult so see it clearly.














Then, with a few shrill warning blasts from the whistleblower, it was time for the trip back to Haverthwaite station and although I did my best to sit this time, I did have my video camera in my bag and so just had to get some footage - I mean I was onboard a steam train after all.

The whole round trip had taken less than an hour and was well worth the £5.20 adult fair. I have to say I was surprised there was no rate for a senior citizen and they'd been quick to see through my cunning ploy of rolling up my trouser pants and asking for the child fare. Damn this beard. Hey, it's puberty, what can I say !!

I was happy to find that the vehicles on either side of my car had not moved as I was concerned that in doing so, my car might have been damaged. Even getting into those vehicles may have caused damage to mine unless the owners were Kate Moss and Posh Spice - not something I'd have put any money on. Too much clear fresh air for Kate and no Gucci stores on the station platform for Posh. My gleaming Clio was untouched.

Anyway I left on the A590 and headed back a few miles to start on the A592 up the east side of Lake Windermere to the town which bears it's name. Lake. No sorry, Windermere. As the lake is 12 miles long, the road isn't much longer as it pretty much hugs the lakeline. Is there such a word ? Shoreline then. But lakes don't have shores, do they ?

Never mind, the road followed the water. There.

Just a few miles along and through the trees I saw hundreds of parked cars and the occasional glimpse of people frolicking on land and in the lake. I decided to investigate and found myself in Fell Foot Country Park which is owned by the National Trust and so it costs to park there.......£3 for 2 hours actually. The website I'm linking to here isn't great but at least it has 3 or so pretty moving images to look at. The National Trust website for the park is even less impressive and all this is a shame as the place looked lovely to me and a real treat for the eyes.

Well yes and no. As you can see from MY photo, it's a very popular spot and this brings a lot of tourists and day trippers. It's the old catch-22 situation again as the very beauty of the place has meant it is crowded on summer days (sorry, on the summer DAY) and so it's not quite so beautful anymore.

It's what I'd call the Yosemite Effect and if a tree was cut down in Fell Foot, loads of people would hear it fall.

Kind of mixing my metaphors there and after all, I'm not coming from a strong point of view. If I'd not caught sight of the parked cars through the trees, I'd never have stopped and added to the hoards already there.

And there was no doubt everyone was enjoying the park and that has to be a good thing. The money raised from all those £3's (and more if you stayed longer) is hopefully going back into the upkeep of the area and not into some pension fund in The Caymans.........unless that fund belongs to IBM in which case I'm all for it. They need to charge £5 per hour, dammit.

And on that point of fiscal nonsence, I'll close this part of my day out yesterday. If anyone is still interested, in true literary style, Part 2 will be coming along shortly. Book your tickets now and try to stay away from forums and chatrooms or you may accidently find out how it all ends.

Just in case, I've placed Hedwig's younger brother on the post (get it...post.....blog........oh suit yourselves). He'll let me know if anyone comes looking for Part 2 before it's published.

He went over to the dark side, which explains his appearance. Oh and the keen sighted may notice he's not an owl either. His mother wasn't fussy.

Dancing With Memories

Sitting here in my very British living room in my even more British semi detached house, it's sometimes hard to remember there is a big world out there with many different sounds, smells and sights to be experienced and explored.

Photos and videos (amateur and professional) can certainly initiate an interest in some new travel destination but my favourite source of such visual information has to come from movies. As a result, strange to say, my most frequently accessed travel site has to be IMDB which would probably amaze it's creators.

For anyone not familiar with this wonderful site, you enter any movie title in the search box and up comes the movie with every possible bit of information you'd ever want to know about it from who starred in it, to who fixed the sandwiches on set. So why do I use it as a travel site ?

Well down the left hand side are even more options you can pick, like what awards the movie has won, what goofs people have found when watching it and the one that makes it a travel site for me..........the filming locations used in the movie.

As I've said before, I started visiting America in the summer of 1989 and went only to Florida that year. For 3 weeks I toured the state and never left it. It was great and although visiting the KSC was the highlight for a space nut like me, I came away having had enough of theme parks and bumping into Brits on holiday to last me a lifetime. I knew then that I wanted to visit every state and see what was on offer as there had to be much more than what was in Florida.

The following year (1990) I watched a movie that made such an impression on me that it dictated where I would visit in 1991. The movie, Dances With Wolves, starred Kevin Costner but the real stars were the stunning landscapes of South Dakota and Wyoming (thank you IMDB). I had to go there. I had to see buffalo.

So on June 8th 1991 I flew into Chicago and immediately headed west in search of these hairy beasts. I really didn't expect to see any in Illinois and so I wasn't disappointed when none appeared. But armed with my deep understanding of buffalo, based solely on Dances With Wolves, I pointed my rental car towards the Badlands of South Dakota and kept my eyes open.

I got slightly sidetracked by visits to Mount Rushmore and the lesser known, but just as awesome, Crazy Horse Monument. These are worthy sights for any tourist but I was on a quest. I had the cd soundtrack of the movie all ready and dammit I wanted buffalo. After leaving the crowds behind, I found myself in a vast open prairie landscape where I could easily visualise Kevin Costner riding in full military uniform across to visit with the inquisitive Indians.
I decided the moment was near and slid the cd into the player.

As the strains of some of the most beautiful soundtrack music ever written enveloped me, I could hardly believe it when I saw a solitary buffalo up ahead right at the side of the road. I slowed down and as I came up alongside it to get a photo, it moved off at a canter but continued to run alongside the car, almost at touching distance. We came to a sharp bend in the road and as I drove around it, the view opened up before me and like that scene in Jurassic Park when Sam Neil first sees the living breathing dinosaurs, I suddenly saw a huge herd of buffalo a few hundred yards away surrounding a small expanse of water.

It was a moment that will live with me forever. In the vastness of the area, I felt like I was the last person on earth. I hadn't seen another car in over an hour in either direction and so here I was, alone with 'my' buffalo. The scenery, the music, the buffalo. Sitting in my Leeds living room less than a week earlier, I could never have imagined this.

Costner is hardly the most popular actor in the world but most people would have to admit that Dances With Wolves was a great movie on several levels. Maybe it was self indulgent. Maybe it was too long. Maybe his acting left a lot to be desired. But as a magnificent sweeping portrayal of a time in American history that has gone forever, it has few critics. And as for the stunning and emotive soundtrack written by John Barry, rarely has music combined so well with the vision on the screen to make for an overall experience that lives long in the memory.

Yesterday I tuned my cable tv box to Classic FM TV as it is a good channel to have in the background when reading or surfing late at night. Suddenly I heard the familiar opening notes to the Dances With Wolves soundtrack but with a sort of meaty beaty back track not on the CD. I loved it. The images were from the movie of course and I wished I'd had a chance to record it. I was immediately taken back to my very special time that summer in 1991 when another of my travel dreams came true. I didn't want the music to end but all too soon it did. I needed to hear it again and again.

Then I remembered YouTube and how just about anything is on there somewhere. I did a quick search and found the version I'd just heard on Classic FM and I was in heaven....or at least that part of heaven in South Dakota when for a short time you can feel totally alone on this mad planet. Where time seems to stand still and you are but an insignificant speck on the landscape. Where that landscape is almost limitless and only ends where it meets the sky. A sky so blue, it makes your emotions soar and your soul ache.

If you have seen this movie, take another listen to this music. If you have never seen it, I envy you this first listen. I want you to be there. I want you to be where I was that summer 16 years ago. I simply ask you to first imagine the scene before clicking on the link at the end and when you do, please close your eyes the first time as watching the video clip can be distracting.

You are in this car. There isn't another human being around for a hundred miles. You have dreamed of being in this very location for over a year. You turn off the engine, slowly step out of the car and let the sound of silence envelope you. A few yards away a solitary majestic buffalo has returned to eating the grass, safe in the knowledge that you pose no threat to it. Your eyes sweep across the vast empty landscape and suddenly stop on a herd of buffalo grazing near a waterhole not far away from you. As the tranquility takes you to a different level, the music starts......gently adding to the beauty of the experience.

You are now where I was. Enjoy it with me again.

Still Walking Back to Happiness - But Only Just.

Bless me Father for I have sinned. It's been 2 weeks since my last post.

Sorry......still got some Catholic traits deep within me.

Today the sky is blue, the clouds are fluffy white and the sun is.........well I was told never to look at it, so I've no idea. Probably a nice yellow colour with pointy rays coming off it in all directions.

I only mention this as we here in soggy England haven't seen much in the way of this warming orb in recent weeks and I've been pretty much stuck indoors with little to blog about. I was beginning to think it had moved out of orbit and eastern Europe was pinching our bit of sunshine - as if what they normally get wasn't enough. It's bad enough hearing reports of records temps in Greece or wherever when our webbed footed, welly wearing citizens are paddling canoes down their main streets.

Given the record rainfall that has been dumped on our green and not so pleasant land in recent weeks, I think it's ironic that thousands have to stand in line now to get drinking water. Sadly the stuff that's splashing up to their knees or settling nicely in their living rooms isn't fit to drink.........or even allow to touch your bare flesh come to that. Once you see shots of long wriggling wormlike critters floating by alongside the usual assortment of bike wheels, shopping carts, empty coke bottles and condoms, well you just don't want to dip a toe into it never mind get any inside you.

As usual, one man's misery is another man's opportunity and reports are rife of people being overcharged for bottled water and other necessities. String 'em up, I say. Off with their heads, I say. Let them run the railways, I say !!

Anyway this long period of wet and gloomy weather has made it difficult for me to get out there and do my walking. Yes I've got a treadmill for this very reason but it's just not the same. The big issue I have using the treadmill is that, at the first appearance of an ache or pain, it's way too easy to just climb down and be sitting with my feet up watching tv a few seconds later. When this happens out on the road, I'm usually 2 miles from home and have no choice but to 'break through the wall' and carry on. So I prefer to walk outside.

Oh, while on this subject, I've noticed recently that many visitors to my blog have come to it via a google search for the song 'Walking Back To Happiness'. Now one or two such visits I could understand but I am surprised by the numbers I'm getting. Maybe there is a quiz running where you need to know the lyrics to this song ? Maybe Helen Shapiro is making a comeback ? She was so young when the song was a hit that she's probably only in her 20's now !!

The post where I mentioned the song was created 13 months ago. It seems that if you google the name of the song, my blog comes up 60th out of 46,400 search replies. Not too shabby but not high enough to explain the number of hits I've been getting as I don't think many people look beyond the first page of google replies. However if you put in certain lyrics from the song......like "Funny but it's true what loneliness can do", then yours truely pops up at the top out of 738,000 replies. Wooohoooooo. I'm No.1, I'm No.1. Wonder if I'll go platinum ??

So if ANYONE out there comes to this blog this way, can you please add a comment telling me why you were looking for that particular song or it's lyrics ? Thank you. Oh and feel free to stop and read the other posts !

Speaking of shameless plugs, I think it's time to mention my brother's holiday cottage in Wales again. As regular readers will know, I spent a week there recently and can highly recommend it as a wonderful holiday base from which to explore the stunningly beautiful (and mostly dry) mountains and valleys of North and Mid Wales. Their web site is looking good now and is well worth a visit - if only to see some of my photos which I'm pleased to say were used to show what the cottage and surrounding area looks like. As their site links to this blog, I thought it only brotherly to reciprocate.

Well I need to go out and spend some time basking in the warmth of this rare celestial visitor - maybe even take a walk. As everyone tends to be miserable and sad looking when it's wet and overcast, you can imagine the national gloom that has been hovering over the UK recently. I've certainly felt that way. So to be able to get out for a walk today without a fur lined coat, thermal undies and wellies, I really can say that I'll be literally..........walking back to happiness.

And as a bonus, that reference should keep me on top of the google search results !! Shameless.

Speedy Gonzales

I was going to call this post "Another Soapbox Alert" as I'm going to pontificate - but decided it might put people off from the get go.

Today I took a 6 hour 200 mile return journey to a place near Flint in North Wales to serve my penance and attend a Speed Awareness Course in order to avoid getting 3 points on my licence for speeding 7 weeks ago. I mention the 6 hours as it wouldn't normally take me that long to drive 200 miles but today a combination of dreadful weather, it being a Friday with many schools breaking up for the summer and the fact that I had to use some of the busiest motorways in the UK, all meant that a 4 hour drive took me 6 hours and I was stopped for much of that time.

My speeding crime was doing 35mph in a 30mph zone and I was on the course with 4 other hardened criminals who had also been caught a few miles over the limit. In fact you are only offered this course as an alternative to the licence points if you've only gone a few miles over the limit. I have to assume the police think that doing something like 50 in a 30 zone or 100 on a motorway means you are beyond help and therefore would not benefit from a course. I choose to think differently but what do I know ?

It's wasn't bad actually and we discussed the reasons for, and the implications of, speeding. Among other things we talked about bad driving techniques and the road rage that often follows.

Anyway, all that aside, it's time to pull out my soapbox and climb on board.

Both going and coming back, but mostly coming back, the weather was horrendous with heavy rain and the usual lack of visibility that comes with it. That was compounded on the motorways by the spray from speeding vehicles (not speeding in the context of what I've said earlier - just speeding as in.......well speeding along). If ever there was a need for having your dipped headlights on, this was it. And yet what did I see - or barely see, to be more accurate ? Loads of idiots driving along with no lights on at all as if it was a glorious sunny afternoon.

I just don't get it. I'd love to talk to one of these people and ask them what's wrong with them ? I mean, REALLY. Along with driving along in the middle lane of a motorway when the inside lane is free and not indicating when exiting a roundabout, it's my biggest driving peeve. I try not to get stressed but God help me, it's not easy.

I don't mind these people killing themselves.......more power to them. But their stupidity is just as likely, if not more likely, to get others killed instead.

Maybe their argument is that they can see perfectly well in conditions like we were experiencing today so why use lights? After all it was only 5pm on a July afternoon and not really dark at all. This totally misses the main point in using lights during bad weather. You don't do it to SEE but to BE SEEN. Come on people, it's not rocket science.

I'd be trying to change lanes with a steamed up car, windscreen wipers going like Paris Hilton's legs in prison (ok cheap shot) and with low visibility everywhere. Like a good boy I'd check my rear view mirror first and what would I see ? Well about a dozen cars far enough behind me to not really stop me changing lanes. And how come I saw them through the gloom and rain and spray from my own tyres ? Because they had their lights on !! Yeahhhhhh. So I indicate to show my intentions and immediately I hear a horn blast and looking back again I see a car I'd not seen before, flashing his lights at me. Oh they did work then !

I'd not seen it before because it had no lights on and was a dark colour. It just didn't stand out against all the other cars with their lights on.

I know I've laboured the point now but if it's so obvious, why doesn't EVERYONE do it ? Actually one good thing I did learn at the course was that soon all cars will have to have their lights on....ALL THE TIME. God bless the EU for that one. Can't come soon enough for me.

And don't get me started on the others who use their 'side lights' and think that's enough. It's not. My theory is that the bigger the car, the less use these side lights are. The classic example is a Rolls Royce. I've seen bigger and brighter lights on a lightning bug !

So when I pull up along side them or they do the same to me, I can't really indicate with pulsing hands signals that they need to put their lights on. They simply look bemused as they know they already have them on. Yes but they're like using 2 tealight candles to light the Vatican.

Useless.

I'd really love one of those moving advertising signs on my back window so I could let these people know what I think. It might cause road rage but it would help lower my stress levels and let me concentrate on my speed a bit more. Oh yes, my speed. Dang it, I forgot about that.

You know, I'm really not sure going to that course today did me any good at all !!

Oh I Don't Like To Be Beside The Seaside.

Yesterday was a pretty nice day, weatherwise, and I fancied a drive to somewhere new.

I decided to plan where to go over another delicious and cheap carvery meal at The Wellington on Wetherby Road which has rapidly become my eatery of choice and it's hard to resist if I'm passing within 5 miles of it with a rumbling stomach.

So I tucked in to ham and turkey with Yorkshire puddings, new potatoes, peas, carrots and delicious thick gravy with my UK A-Z next to me and tried to decide where to go. I settled on finding somewhere east of Leeds as it's still pretty much a black hole when it comes to my personal travel experiences. I wanted the seaside but with something a bit more than sand and candy floss to keep me photographically entertained for the day.

Grimsby it was then. Never been before and I thought I'd get to see some fishing boats in an idyllic harbour setting. As time was getting on, I skipped any ideas of taking a scenic route, if indeed there was one from Leeds to Grimsby, and opted for the M62/M18/M180 all the way there.

No sooner had I made it onto the M62 than I hit trouble. The overhead signs showed that due to an incident, the motorway was reduced to one working lane up ahead.

This is an exciting photo of us on that one lane.

Actually I was doubly cheesed off as, in merging from three lanes to one, I went past a vehicle that I would have photographed if traffic had been flowing normally. It was some sort of a trike contraption but one unlike anything I'd seen anywhere, even in America.
It looked from behind like a standard 3 wheel vehicle but the bike part, although obviously fixed to this frame, moved independently in some way. Hard to explain but after the traffic merge it was way behind me and I never saw it again.

The debris from the incident, whatever it had been, was being swept up when I passed it and I'm sure the motorway was back to 3 lanes soon afterwards.

I reached Grimsby without any further delays and it was good to have been on new roads to me.
I actually smelled (or smelt) the town before I saw it and I got some idea of what it would be like to live in a house made of fish fingers. Handy for late night snacking but hard on the nose.

I drove around the docks for a while but only saw high walls and closed gates and the occasional teasing view of a mast. I finally stopped at a security gate post and asked where would be the best location from which to photograph the fishing fleet and although he didn't exactly laugh, the guard said there was no fleet anymore. The fishing industry in Grimsby was essentially history and anyway, thanks to Mr. Bin Laden and his cronies, the docks were off limits to the general public. I wasn't sure what was left to keep secure or even why any terrorist would want to blow up a fishing fleet at the best of times, but I drove on into the town............

......and right out the other side. There was nothing remotely interesting about Grimsby. I'd go so far as to say that if I lived there, I'd be trying to leave asap. I'll be kind and leave it at that.

Just 2 miles away and almost joined to it, is the seaside resort of Cleethorpes. I still wanted to see water and walk on sand and so, bitterly disappointed with Grimsby, I drove on to Cleethorpes.

Oh boy. It was everything I hated about UK seaside towns with it's miles of sad old slot machine arcades, unhealthy food outlets and decidedly antique rides spoiling what could've been a lovely promenade next to a wonderful length of clean sandy beach.

Ok I suppose every seaside resort has to have ice cream, fish and chips, candy floss and so on but PLEASE get rid of the arcades.

Most of the ones in Cleethorpes looked like they'd not been painted since the 50's and everything about them reeked of a time long gone - like the customers.


This small Ferris Wheel was the only amusement offering on the beach side of the promenade and further on was the 134 year old pier which does have one claim to fame - it's the shortest pier in the country.

With the decline of such structures, it's changed hands numerous times over the decades and seems to have lost money for whoever owned it.

Another reason for not liking Cleethorpes was that you had to pay 90p ($1.80) to park for an hour anywhere along the promenade and although I understand that the town has to make money wherever it can, I feel there should always be free parking for a Renault Clio at the seaside. It just makes sense and should be a law. Anyway I parked and moved a few times and never paid and displayed. I'm a rebel.

Across the road from a particular line of arcades was this solitary eatery - why we like to slap "USA" or "American" on lots of our eating places just because they sell hotdogs or donuts is beyond me.

I'm not sure what menu items ordained that this place should class itself as a USA Take-A-Way but I'm quite sure that the quantity, if not the quality, would have made a visiting American raise an eyebrow or two.

It wasn't so much a take away as a stay away as the customers were giving the place a wide berth.

Further along the prom and beyond the pier, things got a little better, visually if not gastronomically. The sky was a tad overcast and being mid afternoon on a weekday with many school still in session, there weren't many people out and about. All the more ozone for me then and I took in great lungfulls and enjoyed the views.

The prom was wide, very clean and - empty for the most part. The sand was clean too and very soft underfoot. Like with most beaches on the eastern side of the UK, the tide went out a long way and this, coupled with the cool temperature and a lack of tourists, meant only a few brave souls were frolicking.

Now I enjoy a good frolic as much as the next person but I was happy to just walk on the sand with no wish to dip my digits into the water. The air temp needs to be above 80F and the sea temp not far behind before I dip my delicate bod into it. Actually I think the last time I had a swim in open water in the UK was when the paint on those arcade places was still fresh. I kid you not, it's probably been the best part of 40 years.

A short walk later and it was obvious that the tide was coming in......from Norway or somewhere. You still had to walk half a mile to get your ankles damp

This didn't stop some people rushing out to meet the tide halfway or, in the case of this dad and little girl, playing that old favourite seaside game called "now where did you hide Daddy's car keys, sweetheart" ?

I think that's what was wrong with this trip to Cleethorpes and it wasn't really the town's fault. There were so few kids around that the place had an out of season feel to it. Give it another few weeks and I bet it'll be rocking. Maybe.

As usual, what the place lacked in youths (or yutes...hehe) , it made up for in golden oldies. It's a simple but time honoured recipe : take one seaside resort, add a dash of wooden benches or deckchairs, throw in a few wrinklies and voila........the perfect mix.

There wasn't much worth watching on their home tv so George and Mildred here decided to get out and watch the ships passing towards Hull.

"I've had enough of this show, George"
"I like it, baby. And it's great in widescreen"
"But it's boring. Change the channel"
"It's not a channel, Mildred, it's an estuary"
"Nobody likes a smart ass, George"

I drove to the end of the promenade road and things livened up. There was a cute coastal train to ride, some sort of water park, a shopping plaza and fast food outlets galore. The ice creams, donuts and candy floss at the other end of the prom had given way to original recipe chicken and bigmacs. Similarly unhealthy and similarly nummy. I gave in to temptation and had a 2 piece Colonel Meal which was my first fast food meal in 6 months so I didn't beat myself up about it. I even saved one chicken piece till today.

By now it was 6pm and Cleethorpes was closing down for the day. The coastal train had stopped and if you wanted an ice cream along the prom, tough. I took the hint and left too.

Maybe I'm not a seaside person although it's really the seaside town that I have issues with. I don't 'do' amusement rides. I try not to eat unhealthy (if nummy) food. I detest arcades. So that just leaves the water and the beach. I like both of those and so the next time I decide to feel the hot sand between my toes and have the urge to jump headlong into the warm breaking waves I'll know what to do.

Go to Florida !

A Very Unique Post

As a certified Grumpy Old Man and Victor Meldrew clone, I hated learning today that one of my pet peeves needs to be qualified, toned down or even discarded completely. It's been like losing a family pet, a close friend or even a footy team I've supported for well over 30 years. I'm just not sure I can do it.

It all started this morning when I glanced at my digital watch to make sure I was up and about in time to watch the start of the cricket on tv. Oh don't even THINK about teasing me on that one. I told you I'm in mourning so don't kick me when I'm down. I LIKE watching cricket on tv, ok !! Just let it go and move on.

Anyway the watch display caught my bleary eyes attention as the row of numbers along the top which show the date, read 070707. Putting aside my disappointment that I hadn't been awake to see the time register 0707 several hours ago, I thought about how unusual this sort of date really was. Well I had to constantly stir my porridge for 5 minutes so my mind needed something to focus on.

For a start it's one of those rare dates when we're in sync with our American cousins who yet again decided to be different and put the month first when specifying dates. It's also when I don't have to remember that my watch was bought over there and so do a sort of mental switch around every time I use it to check the date. Thankfully it's not something I need to do very often.

So it's a unique date then. Or is it ? Well with the cinnamon and raisins combining nicely in my porridge, I discussed this question with myself. How many days in history will ever be written down as 070707 ? Well.....only this one of course. Hmmmmm. Ok then, how many days will be written down as tomorrow's date, 080707 (or 070807 for Americans) ? Again only one. So on that basis, EVERY date is unique. Rats.

So why has 070707 taken my eye ? It's not even a palindrome unless you put it in groups of 2 numbers or remove the zeros and that's just cheating. Well it's one of those dates when it's almost a pleasure to write a cheque (or check) or fill in a form as your pen fairly speeds across the paper - 070707. Woooohooooo.

And so that was that. The date today is just a minor amusing series of numbers which combine to be unique in the sense that every date is unique. Ah but once again I'd woken the Kraken that is the word UNIQUE.

Almost numero uno on my list of pet peeves has been the use of the word unique in modern society. For me it was always pretty clear - unique came from the Latin unicus meaning ONE. As so, it cannot be preceded by anything like 'somewhat' or 'very' or 'almost' as these would be superfluous at best and downright bad grammar at worst. So I'd go easily into Meldrew Meltdown Mode anytime I'd hear "quite unique", "very unique" and the most irritating of all......."one of the most unique" Grrrrrrrrrr.

But then I decided to do something I'd never done before. Something unique in fact. I looked the word up in a dictionary. Just to be sure of my facts, you know :

Function: adjective

1 : being the only one : SOLE
2 a : being without a like or equal : UNEQUALED
b : distinctively characteristic : PECULIAR
3 : UNUSUAL

usage Many commentators have objected to the comparison or modification (as by somewhat or very) of unique, often asserting that a thing is either unique or it is not. Objections are based chiefly on the assumption that unique has but a single absolute sense, an assumption contradicted by information readily available in a dictionary. Unique dates back to the 17th century but was little used until the end of the 18th when, according to the Oxford English Dictionary, it was reacquired from French. Around the middle of the 19th century it ceased to be considered foreign and came into considerable popular use. With popular use came a broadening of application beyond the original two meanings (here numbered 1 and 2a). In modern use both comparison and modification are widespread and standard but are confined to the extended senses 2b and 3. When sense 1 or sense 2a is intended, unique is used without qualifying modifiers.

Qualifying modifiers are allowed !! What, what, what !!! My world was turned upside down. My porridge stuck in my throat. (That was more likely due to not using enough milk though).

Oh great. So now when some young whipper snapper VDJ on MTV says that the latest one hit wonder has a 'very unique voice", I have to work out the sense implied before I can rant and rave and fire off an email to The London Times about the lack of basic education shown on tv these days.

We are NOT amused. 070707 will certainly go down in my life as the day I lost something very close to me. I lost something to grumble about. I lost something to get on my soapbox about.

I lost........something quite unique.

I'm Back

Well I've not actually BEEN anywhere but as it's been a while since I posted, I thought it sounded good to give the impression I had been away somewhere. Somewhere exotic maybe. A Nile cruise maybe.

Actually I did think about a Nile cruise today as I got an email holiday alert offering such a trip including air fare and 10 excursions for the remarkable price of £299. Wow. I love last minute offers.

With my mind calling up thoughts of spitting camels, sunkissed pyramids and some ghastly exotic diseases, I went to the site to checkout the small print and sure enough, there it was. "Price is based on 2 people sharing".

Sharing what ? A semi in Neasden ? The same surname ? A bit of tongue now and then ? Dammit. Where is that sister of mine when I need her - the one who moved down south years ago ? We were VERY close !!

Seriously (and I don't have a sister), once again a potential great holiday deal was taken away from me because I'm a sad old single. I'm considering patching up my inflatable 'friend' from 1972 and giving her another spin. Patches and all. I'm just not sure she'd stand up to the latest security screenings at the airport.

But one trip I will be taking is still 13 weeks away. I got my medical insurance sorted and bought my tickets for another winter in Florida. Given the summer weather we've had so far, I can't wait for winter.

The number 13 has raised it's dubious head elsewhere in my life too. Remember my speeding mishap in Wales (see one of the Welsh posts if not) and my lovely and well deserved letter from the North Wales Police thoughtfully inviting me to cough up £60 and they'd give me 3 points on my licence as a freebee ? Well they made me another offer shortly afterwards. If I went on a Speed Awareness Course, cost - £60, they'd not bother with the 3 points.

I was torn. Why ? Well 3 points would hardly be the end of the world and the course was being held back in North Wales. This would involve a round trip of 200 miles and even with the Clio purring along at 45mpg, that would still rack up about £19 in petrol costs.

Well I decided that points on my licence would be shameful, if nothing else, and so I accepted their kind offer. Today I got the letter giving me details of when I'm to attend and it's on Friday 13th July at..........13:00.

And who says the police don't have a sence of humour !!