Tag Archives: Nerina Hall

SUNDAY 20th July 2014 – THE WEATHER CHANGED …

… during the night. I was awoken at about 05:00 by a torrential downpour which was rather a shame as I was enjoying my clean bedding.

I was on my travels again too. it went on for ages and ages and another one of those that I was determined to remember when I woke up, but I completely forgot most of it. I do remember being in a service station having fueled up and while the attention of the young girl cashier was distracted, I was trying to buy some bread. All they had was a pack of 6 bread rolls but that was no use. I did find some bread that was suitable but it was in the form of a sandwich and had ham inside.

A little later I was walking down a hill with someone talking about taking Ford Cortinas for the MoT. I was giving this other person loads of useful information but I noticed Nerina having little enigmatic smile because I was being somewhat economical with the truth.

A little later still I was with a group of people in a second-hand clothes shop in Stoke on Trent. They were looking for skiing clothes and all intended to buy a one-piece skisuit. I was instead extolling the virtues of two-piece clothing and here was just the thing – a perfect ensemble. I was trying to attract the attention of my friends to it, without making it too obvious because I wanted it for myself and if I drew too much attention to it, it would be sold before I could rustle up the money for it.

I was up and about at 10:40, a nice lie-in for a change, and after breakast I had another go at this programme I’ve been working on. Not much point in doing everything as it rained almost non-stop throughout the day – 15mm all told.

The bad news is that all of the downloads that I had of this program seem to have been lost with an external drive that went missing when I was at Marianne’s. That means that I can’t go ahead and restore the previous version. But I’m finally making good progress with it, having realised that the reason why I could never make one important part of it work was because I’d forgotten to add in the serial number.

GRRRR

So the weekend is over and it’s back to work tomorrow.

-2

Saturday 5th July 2014 – WHAT A NIGHT

I had something of a disturbed night last night – tossing and turning and trying to get comfortable for much of it. Probably the torrential rain pounding off Caliburn’s roof had much to do with this because there was plenty of that during the night.

Mind you, I wasn’t here for much of it. I was with the daughter of a woman who was at the University where I studied and I was persuading her to elope with me. We ended up fleeing up to Canada, Montreal in fact and I was persuading this girl that we would be fine there. Estate Agents worked on commission from the owners and once they knew what kind of property we were after and what our budget was, they would move heaven and earth to find us somewhere.

We were with Darren and Rachel and at least three other people and telling this agent what we wanted. I explained that we were not expecting to find somewhere at Astoria (did I mean Anjou, my favourite suburb of Montreal?) or in another suburb the name of which I can’t remember but we didn’t want an inner city place and we needed space to park a few cars.

I took this girl on a tour of the suburbs, some of them quite expensive, and I remember our discussion being punctuated by me saying “ohh look, there’s a Ford Consul” and that kind of thing.

So having dealt with these issues I finally managed to wake up and make myself a coffee. Then I hit the road.

At least, just as far as Nantua, when a most unusual lorry stopped me in my tracks. A Willeme it is, a marque that I have never heard of before.

The company began just after World War I when a young man bought a job lot of spare parts for American wartime lorries, with the aim of selling them to people who had acquired the wartime lorries. From there he went on to reconditioning the vehicles and then to build his own heavy lorries and tractors for articulated units.

However the company didn’t last all that long. Despite the reputation that his vehicles had for reliability and strength (there was even a tractor unit that could pull 1000 tonnes), the company disappeared in the late 1960s.

I had a pleasant drive through the showers and ended up in Macon. That has a significance for me because in 1970 when I was 16 I spent a summer there as a guest in a French family.

While I was having had a good look around in Macon, I noticed a sign for “Chasselas”. Never mind the “Chateau de Chasselas, hey Josiah?” of the for Yorkshiremen in a Monty Python sketch, Chasselas is a real place and there is a real chateau there with a vinyard and it produces high-quality white wines. And if you want to know how I know, the answer to this is that in 1970 when I was at Macon, I spent a lot of time at the village bar at Chasselas, the home of the aunt of the family with whom I stayed.

The road up to Chasselas passes through some interesting, if not famous countryside, especially if you are connoisseur of grands crus, and also if you know your wine very well.

Just down there are two villages, once called Pouilly and the other called Fuissé and some of the best white wine in the world comes from there, produced from the grapes that you see in the foreground. Way over in the background is the valley of the Saone and the town of Macon.

We’d been to Chasselas, Nerina and I, in 1992 when we went to the south of France in the old Ford Fiasco. The old bar was still there then but it had been converted into a kind of shop, and I forgot to take a photo of it. Seeing as how I was within about 15kms of the place today, off I went.

It’s now a private house as you can see, and there seems to be a little money about the place. And here’s a surprising thing. A woman walking down the road looked as if she might know a thing or two about the old bar and to my complete and utter surprise sje turned out to be the daughter of the owner of the bar. She was about 12 when I was there and I remember her having a terrible crush on me (although I can’t think why). I’m astonished as to how small the world is these days.

So having caught up on old times I went off to the Chateau and disturbed them at lunch in order to buy a crate of Chateau de Chasselas to share amongst my friends. Yes, it’s something of a myth to say that you can never disturb a Frenchman at his lunch – this guy was keen enough to take my money. We also talked about the rain last night. They had had a hailstorm here and much of the harvest was ruined.

Not too far from Chasselas is another place of interest. This is La Roche de Solutre – the Rock of Solutre and incredible though it may seem, I’ve climbed that. Or, at least, I did when I was 16. I don’t know what must have come over me but I do recall being with a bunch of French youths at the time so I didn’t want to let the side down, I suppose.

The story goes that prehistoric man used to herd wild beasts up to the top and push them over the top as a way of killing them to collect the meat. The fact that heaps and heaps of prehistoric animal bones have been found at the foot of the drop is thr reason why this theory has been advanced.

So after that I headed for home via the supermarket at Paray le Monial where I did my week’s shopping.

And here I am. And here I’ll stay – for the next few weeks at least.

-4

Wednesday 2nd July 2014 – THERE MUST HAVE BEEN QUITE EXCITING TIMES …

… at football matches in Liechtenstein in the past if the sign here at the National Stadium is anything to go by.

Who in their right mind would have gone to a football match in the past with a knife, a pair of knuckle dusters, a rocket launcher and a firearm? Not even a Millwall fan I suspect (“and of course, this is three years before Bala Town were drawn to play here in a Europa League match” he added in 2017).

Still, they wouldn’t have put this notice up if they hadn’t had any issues with these in the past. That’s why I reckon that it must have been quite exciting to have watched a match here.

Never mind the football – come here to watch the spectators.

And you have a nice stadium to do it in too. It’s quite modern and comfortable, currently undergoing refurbishment too, and which has a capacity (following the renovations) of 7838.

“Not a lot” you might be thinking. But then again, the population of the town is all of 5429 at the last count, so the inhabitants can have about 1.4 seats each.

So in the pouring rain I crossed the road from Ze Gasthof zum Deutschen Rhein to the bus stop and here’s the bendy bus that brought me into the city of Vaduz. I’m becoming quite adept now at public transport in strange lands.

However, in contrast to everywhere else I’ve been (except the UK of course), I’ll be passing an adverse comment about the bus fare. Despite the minimal sales tax of 8% here in Liechtenstein, it was still CHF4:80 each way.

And it wasn’t just the bus fare either. A pot of coffee cost CHF7:80 and two tomatoes cost CHF1:00. Liechtenstein is definitely not the place to be if you are on a limited budget like Yours Truly.

Mind you, this is one of the richest countries in the world with the second-highest standard of living and the lowest amount of income tax so I suppose that the people can afford it.

So I ambled around the town in the pouring rain and, believe me, it doesn’t take long because there isn’t very much of the town to see. My memories of the place from October 1988 were that it was just two roads – into the centre on one road, do a loop around at the far end, and back out on the other.

It’s very different today because one of the roads has been pedestrianised. So there’s just one road through the town today. And there’s a fair bit of traffic trying to negotiate it.

And Nerina wouldn’t recognise the place either from those days as many of the old buildings that I remember have been ruthlessly carved down and modern monstrosities built in their place.

The royal palace is still perched up there on its cliff, and that is a surprise seeing all of the other changes around here. I would have expected that to have gone too.

Mind you, I wonder what Prince Hans-Adam II, the ruler of the Principality of Liechtenstein, has to say about the changes to his view of the city from the terraces up there.

When they built the Government offices at the beginning of the 20th Century they made a good effort to try to keep something of the Medieval traditions. Today however, there is not even a pretence.

Having “done” the city I went for a walk out of town to the River Rhine. It’s not very far, even in the pouring rain. Formerly the river ran in a meandering course much closer to the city but a disastrous flood in 1860 caused the inhabitants to divert the river away from the city and reinforce the banks.

Canada might well have a preponderance of covered bridges as we all know, but Europe has its share too. I saw one at Lech the other day, and here’s one crossing the Rhine.

By the way – on the other side of the river is Switzerland. So the border is clearly defined. In other places it isn’t, and the Swiss Army has “invaded” Liechtenstein 3 times “by mistake” in recent times.

And why didn’t the Liechtenstein Army fight back? The answer is that it doesn’t have an army (that’s why taxes are so low). Well, it does. It consists of two men – one to fire the rifle and the other one to ask for the bullet back.

By the way, Liechtenstein is one of the smallest countries in Europe. The Papal Enclave is certainly smaller (we were there in 2000 if you remember) and it’s quite possible that San Marino is too.

Another thing that is quite surprising for a capital city is that it was not until the last 20-25 years that Vaduz became a city in the traditional sense of the term when the parish church was consecrated as a Cathedral. And it’s certainly one of the smallest cathedrals that I’ve ever been in.

Another claim to fame that the city possesses – or maybe doesn’t possess – is that it is probably the only capital city in the developed world that possesses neither a railway station nor an airport. You have to fly in to Switzerland or Austria and catch a bus.

Anyway, that was my trip to Vaduz and, soaking wet, I caught the bus back to the hotel.

And the verdict on Vaduz? Frankly, Nantwich has much more to offer. Not that that’s any surprise either. Nantwich has a population of about 12,000 if I remember correctly. Vaduz has less than half of that and is probably the smallest capital city in the world.

It’s a fact that there are more Limited Companies registered in Vaduz than there are inhabitants.

-3

Monday 30th June 2014 – THIS IS THE VIEW …

… from my bedroom window.

Not my bedroom window from last night, but my bedroom window from this evening. For I am in another hotel. This is actually in Trafoi which is a tiny village in the Alto Adige, the Southern Tyrol, in Italy. It’s halfway up the Stelvio Pass on the way to St Moritz and Switzerland. This was a Shearings destination from the 1980s and didn’t last long, not the least of the reasons being that to road up here from the Reschen Pass is pretty dreadful.

Anyway, it was another item on my list of places to visit – and here I am.

Even more surprisingly, this is actually the first hotel in which I have ever stayed in Italy. All my previous visits have been either with friends, with Nerina’s family or in a nunnery, and I bet you think that I am joking too. "You’re forgetting your skiing trip with Anna in 1996 " – ed.

The Alto Adige is a weird place to be. It was formerly part of the Austrian Empire until 1919 when it passed to Italy in the peace treaty between the two countries after World War I.

After World War II it remained with Italy, presumably due to the fact that Italy had ended the war on the winning side, but you would have a hard job convincing the inhabitants. Here’s a German flag flying outside the house of one of the inhabitants.

Not only that, most of the signs here are in German even though we are in Italy, and the official roadsigns show the town names in both German (which is displayed first) and Italian.

I’ve also seen grafitti to suggest that at least some of the people here are interested in independance.

The border between Austria and the former Italian city-states has always been fluid. This is Festung Nauders, the Nauders fortress dating from the end of the 1830s and there’s another building of a completely different style just across the road and dating from 1840.

It’s not too difficult to imagine that the reason for these two buildings being here in the Reschen Pass is that this was at one time a border crossing following one of the frontier adjustments.

Today the building is a military museum and outside is a display of tanks. The Reschen Pass was heavily fortified and many of the German defences still remain today despite the best attempts of everyone to blow them up and remove them.

The Pass was to be defended every inch during the last few weeks of April 1945 as it is the soft underbelly of the German Reich on a direct route to Munich. However, events at Berlin forestalled everything.

This morning in a torrential downpour I went for a walk around Lech to see what was what. As I said yesterday, I was here in 1988 but I didn’t recognise the place. It’s changed out of all recognition since those days.

I didn’t stay long either because the weather really was quite dreadful too and it was no fun walking around in all of this.

Next stop was Pfunds and this was another place that Nerina and I had visited – and on more than one occasion too. We spent a night here on our honeymoon while we were on our way to Italy and if she were to pass by this place today she wouldn’t recognise it, apart from the name painted on the wall.

Still, 25 years is a long time in tourism and time won’t stand still for anyone.

Not too far away is a little enclave of Switzerland called Samnaun. It was formerly isolated from the main part of Switzerland and so was a duty-free haven. However there is now a road from Switzerland that connects with the area but the duty-free status remains.

Not that is does any good because the place is full of Porsches and the like buying up the perfumes – the entire place smells like a tart’s boudoir – and there is nothing of anything at all that might be of interest to me.

I come here for the views, which are certainly spectacular as you can see for yourself. There isn’t much like anywhere in the Alps quite like this.

Another thing that brings me here is the diesel. 114 cents per litre in Euros (it’s Swiss currency here of course) and that’s the second-cheapest that I have found so far in Europe after Andorra in March.

From here I headed back down to the Reschen Pass and you know the story from here on in.

Sunday 29th June 2014 – YOU CAN’T BELIEVE YOUR EYES, CAN YOU?

I thought you wouldn’t. But that is indeed snow up there in the background. Here on the 29th June, the temperature has dropped to 3.3°C and there is snow in the rain here but up in the mountain pass that I’ve just driven through, it really is snowing.

So where am I then? I’m actually in a village called Lech which is high in the Austrian Tyrol way above the Arlberg Pass between Innsbuck and Bregenz on the Swiss border. Nerina and I visited here on our honeymoon in October 1988 and made a vow that one day we would come and stay here. Of course things have moved on a great deal since those days, but here I am all the same. At least I have made it here.

And here is a guest-house that charges just €25 for bed and breakfast and while it isn’t 5-star luxury, I’ve never had value for money quite like this. I also found a decent Italian restaurant here that cooked me a special meal. I spent the evening there talking Italian to the staff there and it’s amazing how much came back.

This has made me make a decision that for all of the languages that I can speak in a marginal kind of way, I’m going to spend some time in each country at least once per year. I’m not sure how this will work for my Russian, but we’ll see.

This photo is interesting too. This is Sankt Christophe, the highest point in the Arlberg Pass. I have a photo that I took here when Nerina and I passed by. It featured the old Cortina estate that we had – OCC 883S and a hanging cloud that had chased us all the way up the pass billowing over the crest. This photo features Caliburn of course, and it would have featured Strawberry Moose too except that it was absolutely p155ing down and snowing, and His Nibs didn’t fancy getting wet.

And I can’t say I blame him either. This is what it looked like on the Motorway between Innsbruck and Bregenz. Totally dreadful as you can see and I was driving with the rear foglights on. It was the only way to be seen through the spray coming off the road. The hanging clouds wedged up against the mountains look impressive too.

And doesn’t Strawberry Moose take an excellent photograph? He should be proud of his skills.

This is the weather that we have been having all day. It was raining when I left bei Hanzi this morning and gradually degenerated as I drove down the B11 towards the Austrian frontier. Once in the Alps we got the lot and that was that.

So I’m going to have an early night and hope for better things tomorrow.

-3

Friday 30th May 2014 – I’VE BEEN DIGGING AGAIN

Yes, and here’s a new development – I was actually outside working at 08:30 and I can’t remember if that has ever happened before.

Terry had a day off – he had another job to do and of course, paying jobs with folding stuff always take priority over anything else, and so I was on my own.

I started off by picking out all of the large stones from the pile of earth that I had excavated on Wednesday evening, And then I started to shovel up all of the earth into the trailer to empty at the precipice.

I’d dug out the soil a little too deep so it seemed, and so I ended up by having to backfill it and then driving up and down everywhere to flatten it all down.

Considering that it’s my first job with the digger, it’s not come out too badly but Terry says that he’ll smooth it off on Monday. Yes, we’re a long way from being finished.

There was still plenty of time left and so I started to clear out all of the weeds from where I had parked the Sankey trailer.

By the time that I had finished , I’d cleared out quite an area and it looks quite good there now – quite an improvement. I’m going to park the Kubota there for now as I’ll be using the Sankey trailer for a while as long as the digger is here.

But with my early night last night, I had a good night’s sleep without any interruptions. Nerina wandered along too. I was in Crewe again at the Bus Station in the good old days when Crosville did the bus services there prior to the apocalypse of the mid-80s.

Each of the buses carried a notice of some kind and the notice had a glaring spelling mistake. I spoke to Nerina, who was working for Crosville, and it turned out that it was she who had written the notice. I told her that she should take more care about what she writes, but she had the air of not caring less about it.

-2

Wednesday 26th February 2014 – THIS IS WHERE …

… Caliburn, Strawberry Moose and Yours Truly stopped for lunch this afternoon.

I’m at Le Cap Ferret, which is on the French South-Western Atlantic coast not too far from Bordeaux. There is an errand and some Pionsat-based research to be undertaken in this neck of the woods and when I woke up this morning at Brive-La-Gaillarde to another round of miserable driving rain and the only spot of clear weather on the whole of today’s map of France seemed to be around here, I thought “sod this for a game of soldiers” and I’ve gone West.

“Not before time” I hear you say, but anyway, as Marshall MacMahon once famously said, “here I am and here I’ll stay”

One reason for coming here is that there is a big lighthouse on the Cape and as many long-term readers of this rubbish will recall, I have quite a thing about lighthouses.

But this one wasn’t what I was expecting to see for rather than being isolated on some kind of sandspit somewhere, it’s right in the middle of a built-up area. Access is very difficult and also it’s not easy to find a good spot to take a photograph. Still, one does the best one can.

I went for a good long walk for a couple of hours along the beach. Part of the beach is actually an enormous sandspit that stretches for a good mile, if not more, just offshore and it’s a wonderful place to go for a stroll.

There was practically no-one about which was surprising given how qwarm it was this afternoon. But I bet that it wouldn’t be like this in July and August, not by any means

We’d had a few sudden, short storms during the day, some of them quite heavy, and while I was out on my sandspit we had another one.

Come and gone in a flash, but we had the most astonishing rainbow and I’ve never seen one quite like this before. It came out really well on the photo which was something of a surprise as it doesn’t usually happen like this either.

But on the debit side, dunno if you remember me fixing the auxilliary charging circuit on Caliburn on Monday. Since then, there has always been an occasional little whiff of Sulphuric gas from the battery – no surprise as the battery is goosed and it’s only there to make a circuit. But this evening there was a different smell. The second battery is behind the driver’s seat so while I was driving, I put my hand down to feel if anything was out of the ordinary happening to the battery – and promptly burnt my hand.

The battery was more-than-red hot and so I think that it’s gone totally o/c. And so hot that I wouldn’t have been surprised if it had burst into flames either.

I’ve disconnected it anyway and I’ll have another look at it tomorrow. Or sometime. Maybe.

But now I’m in a little seaside hotel just down the road from Le Cap Ferret. No idea where I’ll go tomorrow, but I don’t feel like going home.

And last night?

I was with Nerina and we went to the Victoria Hall in Hanley to see Neil Young. We were very early and caught him on stage setting up and checking his equipment. There were about 20 early birds in total and he invited us all on stage for a chat, and asked us if we had any questions.

I asked him about his songwriting – I reckoned that the songs that he wrote when he had the Black Dog looking over his shoulder were by far and away the best. Did he agree? And how did he cope with Depression affecting his songwriting.

He replied that he was so accustomed to it that he had learned to live with it and what he wrote, as long as it was technically competent, he had no qualms whatever about recording. Songwriting is all about expressing the writer’s moods and there is good and bad, just like in life.

He then asked for a volunteer todo something and, to my surprise, Nerina volunteered. Not like her – she always had very firm preiciples. But nevertheless she left her position of crouched on the floor at Neil Young’s feet and went off to do this task.

-3

Monday 20th January 2014 – I FEEL DREADFUL.

Yes, I’m sure that I’m getting worse. It must have been quite an exertion for me yesterday as by the time I returned home I was in no condition to sleep and I remember at one stage looking at the clock and it was way past 04:00.

But sleep I must have done as I didn’t hear the alarms and woke bolt upright at 09:05 and it was just as well as I had to be in Marcillat for 09:30 to record the rock programmes.

And I made it too but the crew wasn’t there. In a delightful summing-up of rural France, the excuse given (when they did turn up) was “well, there was a queue in the boulangerie“.

I went to Cécile’s on the way to Liz’s afterwards and sure enough, there was the form she was expecting, finally arrived, but collecting the letter isn’t going to be anything like straightforward.

We did the Radio Arverne programmes at Gerzat, but towards the end I was dissolved in fits of coughing (and poor Bernard who has to edit it all out) and I don’t know how I made it to the end.

But that’s about finished me off now and I won’t be doing anything else. Liz gave me some honey and a lemon and I made a hot drink, but it was rather like the time that I sent Nerina to the Health Spa for a weekend.
When my mate came round, he asked me if the mudpack had improved Nerina’s appearance any.
“It sure did” I replied “but it wore off after three days”.

-4

Wednesday 15th January 2014 – I TURNED DOWN …

… a trip to Brico Depot this morning. You can see that I’m not feeling myself at all right now, which is just as well etc. etc.

Anyway last night I was playing bass with The Groundhogs on a revitalisation tour. Of course TS McPhee didn’t make it, and if that was me on bass, that only left the drummer as an original member.

A little later on, I was sent to work in Stockport and that cheered mr up because I could leave a whole pile of difficult post tobe dealt with by my successor, but on the other hand I was worried as I was bound to meet up with Nerina again.

Like I have said before … "and you’ll say again" – ed … I only with that my real life was half as exciting as my dreams

Meanwhile, back in the land of the living, by lunchtime absolutely everything that has no business being in the living room was elsewhere, and I had moved the old table to righht underneath the window.

This afternoon, I moved most of the tools downstairs and dismantled the temporary work bench. I also built a quick toilet room out of a piece of OSB and a piece of furniture out of an old caravan that I scrapped in 2007. There’s even light in there – of a sort.

I had Marianne on the phone too, but it’s soooo difficult trying to talk when I’m in this condition.

For tea I made a mega-lentil and mushroom curry – all cooked on the woodstove. It wasn’t half impressive

And there’s some left for tomorrow and Friday too.

-4

Tuesday October 8th 2013 – HAPPY SILVER WEDDING ANNIVERSARY.

Yes, it’s my silver wedding anniversary today – 25 years of marriage. And the fact that I haven’t seen my wife since 1994 doesn’t change a thing – it’s still the silver wedding anniversary and so happy anniversary to me, and to you too. And this of course does remind me – not so long ago someone, who really wasn’t au fait with the situation really did ask me if I talked to Nerina while I was making love. My reply was that it all depended upon whether or not I could reach the telephone.

So how did I celebrate it, you may well ask. Not like Alan Shearer who, all those years ago, celebrated winning the Cup Final by going home and creosoting the shed, I woke up at 02:00 exactly after crashing out last night. 02:00 in Greece is exactly the same time as 00:00 in the UK and that must be the purest of pure coincidences.

Being unable to go back to sleep, I did some work on the computer, worked on one of the Rock Music programmes that I do for Radio Anglais, and then emptied all of my bags and suitcases and weeded out the tubbish. And found, to my dismay, that while I had brought back my winter coat as well as my winter fleece, having resolved to leave one of them behind in Montreal, I’ve also somehow managed to leave behind all of my clothes. All I have is what I’m wearing plus the clothes that I was wearing up until I had my shower at Crown Point the other evening. That called for a clothes-washing session under the shower at 05:00, which wouldn’t have been so bad had I remembered to bring back the washing soap.

I’ve also managed to forget to bring back all of the SD cards for the computer, which is annoying to say the least. I can’t even think where they might be because I did sort through the boxes before I put them away in my storage unit, and they didn’t come to light there. So I dunno.

Trixi had us all outside to watch the sunrise over Aegina and then we started the yoga. Trixi teaches Dru Yoga, not that I know anything about it, but I was surprised that some of the relaxation and de-stressing techniques that I have been using for years are mirrored in Yoga (which is probably why they work) and so I wasn’t actually far behind the rest of the group.

That took us up to 09:00 and breakfast, and then following a relaxation, we had our singing sessions from 11:30 until 13:00. I don’t care what anyone else says – I still sing like a vache espagnole and I always will, but it’s why I’m here and it’s why I’ve paid for this course so I ought to have my money’s worth.

While everyone else was at lunch I went for a walk around the little town to look at the scenery and the buildings. I found a bakery and bought a small loaf, and also a tomato from over the road in the greengrocer’s. Sitting on the beach and eating the bread and tomato was a good way to enjoy the sun.

Back at our lodgings everyone else was in the water swimming but I’m having to forego that pleasure. The sea bed at the shore shore is full of sea urchins this time of year and with not having any footwear for the water, it would be extremely painful to step on an urchin.

Another Yoga session was from 17:30 until 19:00, followed by dinner. And I’m being looked after really well by the chef (also called Eric). Trixi and I and one or two others sat up until all hours in the evening chatting about old times. After all, I first met Trixi … errrr … 48 years ago when she had this gorgeous long hair way down past her waist and until a chance meeting last November, I hadn’t seen her since 1972.

+39

-5

Saturday 28th September 2013 – I’VE BEEN TO HEAVEN …

… this morning, and it was by mistake. I’d crossed over the river from Lebanon, New Hampshire, to White River, Vermont and I wanted a place to park in order to photograph the sign.

The bridge was under repair and there were queues of traffic about all over the place and so I nipped onto an industrial estate to park up, but I became somewhat distracted instead.

These three vehicles here, the older of which is a 1932 Hudson, are three of about 20 or 30 vehicles from the 1930s and 40s that were lying abandoned all over the place.

I’ve no idea what they are all doing here but it’s certainly something of a tragedy to see them lying about like this – for some of them, there’s not very much left to save and for others, something needs to be done with them pretty quickly if they aren’t going to end up like the others.

It also begs the question, if these are outside, what might there be lurking around in a warehouse or industrial unit around here? If these are simply the donor cars for other projects it would be extremely interesting to blag my way in for a nosey but there was no-one around to ask. But it does bring back old times when I used to do this kind of thing in France with Nerina all those years ago.

Just down the road from there is the Quechee Gorge on the Ottauquechee River.

It isn’t quite the Grand Canyonof course, but it’s the best that was on offer around here. Hordes of people from everywhere and, much to my surprise, much of what seemed to be on offer was free. Maybe the USA is “The Land of the Free” after all, after all that I have been saying. I’ll have to change the script a little.

I’ve been travelling steadily south-west through the mountains and there wasn’t really very much to see because with overhanging cliffs and forests and the like there was never a clear view. But somewhere along the highway between Londonderry and Manchester there was another one of these rear-view mirror moments as I crest an enormous rise.

That’s where I’ve come from, right over there in the distance. That far ridge is probably 40 miles away and this is really the first proper glance that I’ve had of it. It was worth the wait, even if the image can’t do the view any justice.

This image is rather sad, though. It’s Troy, in New York State, my destination and where I hit the Hudson River. This is civilisation and a sign that my holiday is drawing to a close. This time next Saturday I’ll be somewhere over the Atlantic if we haven’t crashed on take-off, and I’m not looking forward to going home. I wish that I could stay here.

However I did have a stroke of luck. The Lady Who Lives In The Sat-Nav directed me into town past a huge Home Depot and so I took the opportunity to go for a wander around. I did a few errands there but I also made another Ryobi purchase.

I don’t know if you remember that a while ago I broke my Ryobi flourescent light. Here in the USA the model has been discontinued because they have now launched a similar light but powered by LEDs, and all for $19:99 too, and that’s a bargain in any currency.

And I’ll probably have to use it tonight because I’ve left it late to find somewhere to sleep.

-7

Sunday 21 July 2013 – AND AM I ALL PACKED?

Am I ‘eck as like.

No surprise there, is there?

I had a lie-in until about 09:20 and by that time it was far too hot to do anything much. Records have tumbled today and I can’t think how often it is that I have had to put cold water into the solar shower to cool it down to an acceptable temperature of about 37°C.

For yes, I did have my first (and probably only) solar shower of the year this evening, and gorgeous it was too – well-worth waiting for.

Mind you I almost didn’t manage to take it – there sunning itself on the concrete pad right almost where I was planning to stand was a whacking great snake – the first real snake that I’ve seen at my house, although I’ve seen plenty elsewhere.

He p155ed off pretty sharp-ish when he saw me and disappeared into the woodpile, right next to where the ladder is. I got to thinking of myself that it was a shame that I didn’t have a couple of friends, some counters and a pair of dice.

And if you want to know what kind of snake he was, at the speed at which he disappeared, he was definitely a calculator. That’s right – a calculator is a very fast adder.

Still, Caliburn is emptied and there’s a pile of stuff in it.

Not all I need to take all of it but there’s a slight change of plan. I’m not leaving right after the radio shows. It’s going to be even hotter tomorrow so it’ll be wicked on the road. I’m coming back here and I’ll leave at about 19:00 when it cools down.

Trying to print off the radio stuff, and nothing worked. It’s not gathering in the paper and so I’ll need to strip it down and find out why. But I never have any luck with printers. There’s dozens round here that don’t function as they are supposed to do.

Luckily Liz came to the rescue with some stuff (and a nice tea and some ginger cake for which I am always grateful) when I was down there rehearsing the radio shows and I’ll have to get Radio Tartasse to do the rest tomorrow.

Now as you know, every now and again I write down my dreams on here.

Many years ago when I was at Uni I helped out as one of a few guinea-pigs for someone who was doing research into dreams. We had to record our dreams and submit them to this guy who was using them as material for his thesis.

Even though the project ended years ago I still keep it up to a certain degree because it was so interesting and now it’s become something of a habit.

I don’t record all of my dreams because without the equipment that we had, it’s difficult to do so, and so I only record the ones that I remember really well. And last night’s was a corker, it really was.

Back in the 1980s when I had my taxi business in Crewe I had a young girl working for me on Saturdays. She stayed for a couple of years and then left to go to college.

She kept in touch with Nerina and me and there was talk at one point that she might come to lodge with us for a while as home conditions were difficult.

Anyway, to cut a long story short … “Hooray” – ed … Nerina and I separated a few years later and I was preparing to emigrate, and I bumped into Nerina. She asked me how I was and we had a little chat about this and that.

One thing that she said quite surprised me. “I’m surprised that you didn’t get …. to move in with you”.
“How do you mean?”
“Well, you must have known that she had a big crush on you”.
Rather like Hattie Jacques and Kenneth Williams in Carry On Loving“Surely you must have felt it?”
“Felt it? I never got anywhere near it”.
I didn’t, as it happened, and it was rather late in the day to tell me, I thought.

A good few years or so years later I did encounter … again – now separated from her husband and with a young baby in tow.

I was just about to go off New York for a holiday and, on a whim, I invited her along. But it was far too short notice and it didn’t happen, and I always regard her as “the one that got away” – the lucky girl.

Anyway, last night, here she was. We were in Sydney, Australia, together as a couple, talking to someone about their cats, and a taxi driver stuck his head around the door and said that it was time to go. So we went outside to get into his taxi, a big modern silver Opel with a huge scrape all the way down the side and with a floor made of wooden pallets. He took us back to our home and when he dropped us off, I noticed that the letter box outside had been knocked off its pedestal and bent. So there I was fixing it and putting it back into position so I could post this huge pile of brown envelopes, but … told me that the postman had passed while I was fixing the letter box and it was now too late.

I’ve never had a dream as realistic as this – so realistic that in the middle of it and I had to get up to go for a Gypsy’s downstairs in the bathroom, when I returned to bed and went back to sleep, the dream carried on from where it left off.

It was totally astonishing and I would love to know what has been going on in the back of my mind somewhere that has made it come up with all of this. It’s quite unnerving for some reason and has put me right off my stroke. I shan’t be feeling myself for a good week or so …“and quite right too” – ed

Surreal was not the word.

-8

Sunday 29th July 2012 – SO MUCH …

… for my day off!

It started as usual with my wake-up call from Marianne at 09:45 – although just for a change, I’d been up and about for quite some time by then

In our rolling programme of village open days – a different village each Sunday – today is the turn of Chateau sur Cher. We’d been here before a couple of weeks ago for the village walk, you may remember.

I picked up Marianne and off we went in the glorious sunshine. The weather had improved today so it was a nice day outside. Other people had clearly noticed too because we were favoured with quite a substantial crowd, and that’s always very pleasant.

We had two of the Troubadours de Pingrole providing the music. One on the violin and the other on the vielle à roue. But I was absolutely convinced that they were playing out of tune and I’m not sure why. They certainly didn’t seem to know their music either.

But so what? You can’t pick and choose your musicians around here, as I have said before. And the crowd enjoyed it anyway so I don’t suppose it really matters.

And early on a Sunday morning too, so what do you expect? The bars haven’t been closed long!

There was a concours de petanque organised for the afternoon starting at 14:00 and I somehow found myself roped in to help with the scoring – not that I know anything about petanque.

I always remember many years ago with Nerina driving through rural France and seeing a sign for petanque. No idea what it was so I asked her to look in the dictionary. “Can’t find it” she replied. “But never mind. It’s probably something with a peturret”.

Anyway, back to the plot.

We found that we had been locked out of the village hall. That was a good sign, wasn’t it? And no idea where the guy in charge was either.

So in the end, we all ended up having a picnic on the lawn outside the church while we waited. It was all very convivial.

14:20 he turned up to open the door which, for a competition due to start at 14:00, isn’t very good at all. Dozens of people all hanging about, all of them very disappointed to say the least.

And so it goes without saying that the petanque scoring was a shambles, even though we had the very gracious assistance of Strawberry Moose.

It took me a good few minutes to work out the program, but the organiser decided that he couldn’t wait (I can’t see why – he’d kept us waiting long enough) for me and so did the first round by hand.

All of a sudden, the program clicked into place. And when I discovered the reason why, I could have hit the organiser with a stick. He had entered an odd number of teams into the competition and as soon as one withdrew, it all began to work perfectly fine with no problems at all.

But because of his impatience it fouled everything up as far as the competition was concerned. For a start, it immediately paired up teams that had been competing against each other in the round that he had drawn manually.

The competitors didn’t ‘arf complain, and the organiser had something of a moan as well. But I exacted my revenge. What we did in the end was do three rounds on the computer, let the computer work out the scores and positions for those three, and then handed the result to him to work out the final positions including the other round that he did manually.

But we piddled off and left him to it before the kaka hit the ventilateur.

As an aside to this, later Marianne telephoned me. Apparently it had taken him an age to work out the scoring – far longer to work it out than it would have done if he had given me the time to organise myself at the beginning.

And far longer than my original suggestion which was to scrap the first round scored manually and have an additional, fifth round played, so that we would have had four rounds scored on the computer.

And had he been there at the start, it would have been sorted out much earlier than that too

So serve him right!

-3

Thursday 7th June 2012 – YOU MAY REMEMBER …

… that we discussed weedkiller the other day.

Joy suggested a 50-50 mix of vinegar and water and so I tried it. And you can see the result.

A pile of burnt and scorched grass. And so there’s clearly some mileage in that idea,

Thanks, Joy, but I shudder to think about how much vinegar I’m going to need.

This morning it was work as usual on the website but I didn’t get much done due to a couple of lengthy and complicated phone calls that led to a lengthy form-filling session.

All of that made me late for my trip with Marianne and while Liz was wishing me all the best for the afternoon and me saying something like “knowing my luck it will pour down with rain” we suddenly had the most terrific thunderstorm and cloudburst.

Right on cue, you might say.

And so I picked up Marianne and off we went for a good wander around Chateau-sur-Cher.

The village is so named because the remains of a Gallo-Roman fort were discovered on the promontory overlooking the River Cher, on the spot where the church sits today.

It’s certainly an impressive site for a defensive fortification – surrounded on three sides by a very steep climb and I can understand why the Gauls would have chosen it

not only were there some interesting sights to see around the village and around the river, but that we were also directed to an intact chalk-oven and to an outcrop of a coal seam somewhere out off the beaten track on the way back to St Hilaire-près-Pionsat.

The chalk oven took some finding and that’s hardly a surprise. You can see that the chimney is all overgrown with all kinds of everything and you really did have to know where it was before you could see it properly

But it was totally fascinating, as a good exploration confirmed once I’d been able to hack my way through the vegetation into it.

It seems to have been built from a kit or something like that, because the fire bars are noted with Roman numerals – presumably indicating the position and order in which they should be assembled.

I’ve never seen that before.

Apparently the coal seam that we visited 2 years ago and about which I posted on here breaks out in a few other places in the Combrailles.

We had a good scratch around in the vicinity and, sure enough, we found some evidence. Not worth coming here with a mechanical shovel though – the Highways Department’s sign erectors would have been here a long time ago had it been worth the effort.

There are even some mining remains where someone had a go at trying to exploit it, but they are all overgrown apparently (as if the chimney was not) and so we need to wait for winter to hunt for those.

Highlight, for me at least, has to be this beast sitting here abandoned inthe garden of an abandoned cottage in the village.

It’s a Cadillac DeVille, one of the “fourth generation” models from the early 1970s I reckon, and what is significant about it is that according to the maker’s plate under the bonnet it’s actually a “Bienne” – a Swiss model made in that town where general Motors had an assembly plant for 40 years until 1975.

But scrambling over vehicles like this brought back some very happy memories. How poor Nerina must have suffered.

Meanwhile, in other news, I’ve run out of black ink for the printer. I’ll have to see if Terry can order some more for me.

-1

Sunday 2nd May 2010 – As you may well have noticed by now …

… I spend an awful lot of my time on these pages bemoaning the “great clear-up” of French hedgerows and fields in the 1990s that saw thousands and thousands of interesting old French cars depart for the smelter – a national tragedy.

If I were still with Nerina, she would be quite pleased because our summer holidays in the 1980s consisted of us going to France and me abandoning her in a country lane while I leapt over a hedgerow armed with my old Cosina to snap something interesting that I had found.

So today was just like old times as I travelled along a road down which I have travelled hundreds of times before, did a quick double-take over something that I have never noticed before, did a u-turn through the traffic and disappeared over a hedge into a field, armed this time with my Pentax.

I’ve no idea what it is as I couldn’t get close enough but the long bonnet, wings and running boards puts it at the late 1950s at the latest. It’s restored a little bit of my faith in rural France anyway – I don’t know how I could have missed this vehicle considering all the times that I’ve driven down here.

Strangely enough, I was on my way back from an agricultural machinery surplus sale at St Gervais d’Auvergne. I’d been to see if there was anything worthwhile for me to buy for here but it was a waste of time. Just probably 20 items for sale, most of which was heavy stuff. There was a tractor for sale – a huge thing – made in 2006 and the price they wanted for it was €46000. God alone knows how much it must have cost when new. Who says farmers are poor and impoverished?

At the same time as the agricultural machinery sale, there was also a vintage vehicle exhibition. That was really the main reason why I’d come out this morning.

However, it wasn’t all that impressive. There were all of about 10 vehicles on display, most of which I have seen at other shows in the neighbourhood. This is a Renault lorry of the early 1950s and I think that it might be a Type R2161, the famous 2.5T

I bumped into Liz and Terry too – they were fuelling up at the petrol station across the road. That was the highlight of the visit to St Gervais d’Auvergne.

Back at the footy, Pionsat’s 3rd XI were playing Effiat. Effiat are propping up the division and so this was a match that Pionsat couldn’t afford to lose. The game was arranged for two weeks hence but Effiat asked if it could be moved forward, to which Pionsat agreed. Of course this weekend is a blank weekend in the calendar (it’s a bank holiday) and so no other matches are being played. And cynics might think that in this desperate struggle at the foot of the table Effiat have decided to play today so that they can reinforce their team with players from their 1st and 2nd XI.

Indeed, the team that took the field bore no resemblance at all to the team that Pionsat beat back in December. The players were younger, fitter and keener.

But once again, Pionsat not only had a full team out (including one player from the 2nd XI who needed some match practice), they could afford the luxury of Eric, Jerome and Marc on the bench – 3 stalwarts of the team.

Another regular from the team couldn’t get a game and Thomas of the 1st XI and one or two others had turned up “just in case” the 3rd XI was short-handed, but they weren’t needed.

And they weren’t needed indeed.

Pionsat matched them ball-for-ball and with the luxury of 3 keen players on the bench giving the tired legs of the defence a rest every so often Pionsat prevailed by 2 goals to 0. And quite right too – they really did play well.

The season is over for them now and they ended up finishing 6th out of 10 – a far cry from where they were at the end of November anchored at the bottom of the table. They’ve struggled along in fits and starts but kept on going when things were against them. And a couple of unlikely results have helped them, as well as a good goal difference. Strange as it is to say it, losing 6-1 to Manzat was something of a triumph as 2 weeks ago Manzat beat another team at the foot of the table by a whopping 19-0.

-2

EPIC HALL

The Poisoned Pen (or Poisoned Chalice, more like) – or my relentless struggle against reality