Category Archives: royal bank of scotland

Monday 1st July 2019 – IT WAS SOMETHING …

… of a rather depressing night. I had a shower as soon as I got into my room and gave my clothes a quick wash and then, still dripping rather wet, I crawled into bed.

Bed is one thing. Sleep is something else completely. And so it was that I lay awake tossing and turning as the clock rolled on.

However I must have gone to sleep at some point because I was off on my travels at a certain moment. This was another thing where something went wrong. I was with Percy Penguin – at least, it was her but then again it wasn’t – and it was all about cars and so on. I’d arranged to meet Percy Penguin (who doesn’t feature in my notes half as often as she deserves) and I picked her up and we went for a meal. She was asleep on the sofa in this hotel. Everyone was gradually being served and in the end there was just me, another guy and Percy Penguin asleep on the sofa. A woman from the restaurant came out and said “I suppose that you three are all together”. I replied that we were all on our own, except that I might possible be with that girl there. Percy Penguin sat up so I sat next to her and we had the menus. We agreed on a starter and then we had to choose the wine for the wine list. I asked “what wine do you want?” as if she would know.She didn’t so I ordered a nice bottle of full-bodied red Burgundy. The waitress said “oh I don’t have a Burgundy”. I expressed my astonishment that a restaurant wouldn’t have a Burgundy. So I said “how about a Sancilly?”. I explained to Percy Penguin that that came from the area where I lived. The woman looked at me rather peculiarly so she went off to fetch it. Percy Penguin asked about the main course. We hadn’t ordered a main course.I said that maybe we do that a bit later after we’ve had the starter.She said that all the back of my head was oily. I said that I had been working on a car, lying underneath it. She wondered why I hadn’t had it washed. I said that it was almost time to come and pick her up. I hadn’t had time to wash.

At this point I sat up bolt-upright. 04:45. This isn’t any good at all. But nevertheless I was glad that I was awake because I wasn’t disturbed by the alarm on the Canadian phone that, not having adjusted itself to UK time, rang and awoke the Dead at 05:00

That was the cue for me to write up my blog notes for yesterday, which I hadn’t done, not having gone to bed until late.

Rosemary rang me at about 07:00 or so, so I went down to the hotel lobby to say hello. We had a chat and then she went off to breakfast and I went back upstairs to organise myself.

At about 08:45 we met up again, suitcases in hand, and headed off to the bus stop in the cold, cloudy, overcast weather. We just missed a 727 bus and had to wait 10 minutes for the one behind.When it turned up, I found out that my Pound coins were out of date so Rosemary had to help out with the fare.

We were dropped off at the bus station which is right opposite the docks. Finding the docks is one thing, but finding our berth was somewhere else. The first guy at the spoke to in the harbour was more interested in telling me off about crossing a forbidden line than helping us out.

He sent us to the ferry terminal where they were none-the-wiser. However they did suggest that we try elsewhere, being right back where we started by the bus station.

There was an intercom there so I tried to speak to someone but I couldn’t hear a word. Eventually I picked up the phrase “security lodge” and seeing a security lodge in the distance, we headed that way, apparently crossing yet another forbidden line.

This time we had been picked up on CCTV for a rather irate security guard in a pick-up came to tell us off. But when we explained what we were looking for he told us to follow him (not easy when you are dragging suitcases behind you and he’s in a pick-up).

Eventually we caught up with him and, much to my surprise, he knew where we had to go. But knowing is one thing, walking that distance was something else. After a very weary trudge we eventually found our berth.

Finding it is one thing – getting to it was quite another.Negotiating a security gate and moving a barrier, being stopped and searched by security, we were eventually allowed in and we were ushered on board The Good Ship Ve … errr … Ocean Endeavour.

Much to my surprise, there were a few people whom I recognised from last year, such as Ashley and Yulya. And of course they asked the obvious question – “how’s Strawberry Moose?.

And they were delighted to hear that he’s once more managed to stow himself aboard. As I have said before … “and on many occasions too” – ed … he’s far more popular with the ladies than I am ever likely to be.

I found my way to my own cabin – right next door to the one that I had last year. And I dumped my stuff and made my way back to the reception to meet my fellow passengers. On this leg of the journey we are a grand total of just SIX. “One deck each” I quipped.

A delicious lunch was served, and afterwards Rosemary and I headed off into town for a walk. We found a branch of the Royal Bank of Scotland where, at long last, I could activate my bank cards and change the PINS. And also to swap over my bad money for some good stuff.

We then went for a little wander around the Granite City for half an hour or so, and then headed back to the ship where I bumped into my room cleaner from last year.

Back on board, I had a shower, a clean-up and a change of clothes, doing a little washing along the way. I need to keep on top of my washing otherwise I’ll run out of clothes.

With plenty of time to kill before tea, we all had a chat about nothing much, and then came the safety briefing.
“One short blast on the ship’s siren means put on warm clothing”
“Two short blasts on the ship’s siren means come aloft”
“Three short blasts on the ship’s siren means put on lifebelts”
“Four short blasts on the ship’s siren means abandon ship”
“One long blast on the ship’s siren means that the ship’s siren is stuck”

Tea was even more delicious than lunch, and that was saying something. And then we sat around for ages watching all kinds of shipping leave the harbour – except us of course. This 22:00 departure time is turning out to be some kind of Spanish 22:00.

It was just after 23:00 when the tug pulled us away from the quayside, and then we pulled it forward out of the harbour. And as it attempted to disengage, something caught up somewhere and the rope snapped with an incredible force. Had we been a couple of decks lower, we would have been decapitated.

We watched Aberdeen disappear into the dusk and rain, and then called it a night. 128% of my daily effort, 9.4 kms walked. I’m ready for bed.

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Wednesday 1st June 2011 – MMMM! BEANS ON TOAST!

Yes, you can tell that I’m back in the UK, can’t you?

caliburn overnight parking A5 markyate UKHere’s Caliburn parked up in our little overnight spec about a mile or two from the M1

This was formerly part of the A5 but the road was realigned … ohhh … years ago now. Certainly 40 years ago if not more because we slept here in 1973 as I said last night.

It’s the first decent place to stop north of the M25 and as an added advantage, there’s a transport cafe – the Watling Street Café – just down the road where there are coin-operated showers and good cheap food.

The ideal place to stop when you’ve been spending a couple of nights sleeping in your van.

Having been suitably fed and watered, and cleaned, I took to the M1 to continue northwards. All the way up to where the A50 branches off and where I can head for Stoke on Trent.

I’ve been going this way for years now instead of via the M6, Birmingham and the A500. It looks longer on paper, and indeed it is. But not by much and there’s far less traffic. At busy times, it’s probably quicker.

Apart from the usual bits and pieces that I need to buy here, I went to Benchdollar to order all of the clamps and fittings for the next round of projects.

Regular readers of this Rubbish will recall that on a recent occasion I left it rather too late and the order hadn’t come by the time that I was ready to leave. Don’t want that to happen again so this is the first port of call now.

But I had a surprise – and a pleasant one too.

Regular readers of this rubbish will recall that I rent a storage container here in the UK, but it’s up at St Helens. In the days when these weren’t so common and I used to be round there now and again, it was a good option.

But it’s far off my beaten track now that I don’t go up to Scotland so much – 85 miles in fact – and so seeing this warehouse just round the corner from Benchdollar being converted into storage units made me go for a wander down there.

And yes, they do have small 1-metre cube containers. And yes, they are cheaper than at St Helens, even without the introductory offer. And 200 metres is much better than 85 miles, I’ll tell you. I signed up on the spot.

swans river weaver nantwich UKThis afternoon we steamed into Nantwich.

This is of course my old stamping ground as Regular readers of this rubbish will remember.

I was born in the hospital here (nearest hospital with the correct facilities to where we lived); lived in various villages in the neighbourhood and went to Grammar School here. It’s always been my home from home.

river weaver nantwich UKIt’s also where my bank is, and so I had come along to give them their annual kicking. Worst bank in the world but for a variety of reasons, I’m stuck with them.

So leaving Caliburn parked up on the recreation area I took the pretty way into town along the footpath along the banks of the River Weaver

Just in time to see a Crewe-Shrewsbury train go rattling past. Yes, they stil have trains in the UK, although you and I could never afford to use them.

memorial arthur briwn us air force nantwich UKOne place that I have never ever visited despite all of the years that I spent in the vicinity, is the memorial to Arthur Brown.

There are various stories about whether he was a hero, staying in his crashing Thunderbolt to steer it away from houses, or whether he was unconscious due to a lack of oxygen.

And various stories whether he’s buried under here, his body is still in the river it whether it was recovered and buried in a cemetery elsewhere

UKBut whatever happened, this is more-or-less where his aeroplane fell to earth with him still in it, just 20 yards from a row of houses in Shrewbridge Road.

The local Brownies tend the spot and every year on the anniversary of his death the locals still turn out to remember him.

He even has his own street in the town named after him.

kingsley fields nantwich town fc weaver stadium ukOne place that I hadn’t visited before was Kingsley Fields

Well, yes I had. It was at the back of our school and it was also farmed by the father of a girlfriend of a mate of mine so I knew the area pretty well.

But it’s all changed since I was last here.

kingsley fields nantwich town fc weaver stadium ukThe local football club, Nantwich Town FC were perennial strugglers in the North West Counties football league and never ever going anywhere, the butt of many local jokes.

They had a creaking old ground where they had played for 123 years and it was in a pretty miserable condition.

But it did have one thing going for it. It was right in an area that had become a prime residential zone.

kingsley fields nantwich town fc weaver stadium ukAt the time, a new inner ring road was being built around the town (right through my old school playing fields) and there was this corner of the land lying between the new road and the River Weaver that wasn’t fit for much.

For once, acting with considerable speed and foresight, the directors sold the football ground for housing and with the proceeds built a modern state-of-the-art stadium on the land at the back of the ring road

kingsley fields nantwich town fc weaver stadium ukThe rest of course is history.

The new ground attracted the fans (gates tripled) and the new facilities and the larger crowds (and hence the better wages) attracted a better class of player

The club rose through the leagues and is now on the fringe of the professional game (and not long after I wrote this they qualified through the preliminary rounds for a place in the FA Cup proper against Football League opposition).

kingsley fields nantwich town fc weaver stadium ukWhen I called here, a training session was just about to get under way so while the players were warming up in the dressing room, I was permitted to wander around the stadium for a short while

Ironically, just after World War I when Jackson Avenue was unavailable, the club was obliged to play its home matches on a temporary site.

That temporary site is more-or-less where the new Weaver Stadium is situated today.

So having crossed this place of my list of things to do, I’m off to find a parking place for the night. Somewhere towards the north, I reckon.

Tomorrow I’m going up to St Helens to close everything down up there as well as doing a quick trip to Manchester.

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