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Tuesday 15th November 2011 – IT’S NOT AS EASY …

… as you might think putting up this wind turbine and despite a good day’s work I’ve hardly scratched the surface of it.

First job was to reposition all of the planks on the scaffolding so that they are where I want them to be, and then to put the ladder where it should be as well. And that wasn’t the work of five minutes either.

After that it was to cut up an old scrap scaffolding pole (I bought a couple of those with just this kind of purpose in mind) to make the horizontal battens on the wall. There’s an overhang on the roof of about 70mms and so I’m having to invent something to stand the upright pole 70mms out of the wall, and that’s not easy.

Next task was to drill the holes for the mounting brackets to take the horizontal battens. And with the hard stone that we have around here this was playing havoc with the batteries on the Hitachi battery-powered SDS drill.

And then I had an idea.

I have a mains SDS drill – about 750 watts-worth but it’s pretty lightweight and not any better than the Hitachi. That’s always been down here but back in Brussels a few years ago I recalled buying a really heavy-duty 1050 watt SDS drill – with rotostop and everything. And that would make short work of drilling the holes.

And so I had to hunt that down somewhere around the house or the barn and eventually, much to my surprise, I actually discovered it.
And then it was to wire in the 1500-watt mega-inverter that I bought for the barn.
And then it was to trail an electrical cable all around the side of the house from across the barn.
And then look for an adapter because the drill is still wired to a European plug.

But now you see why it’s taking me so long.

But once I was up and running, that drill went through the stone like a hot knife through butter.

After much manipulation I have one of the horizontal battens on now, and that cement mastic stuff is excellent. But I’m going to have to take it off because I’ve thought of an improvement and I shall be doing that tomorrow.

What with having to manipulate the heavy upright pole (and that wasn’t easy either) I was exhausted and in any case heaving heavy pipes around 10 metres up in the air by the light of a torch is not recommended.

We talked the other day about the film Tony Rome. Now that film is from the mid-60s and one of the things that was going through my mind was “is this the earliest ‘mainstream’ film to have a reasonably-explicit lesbian love scene in it?”

I spent all afternoon trying to think if there was one any earlier than this but nothing came to mind, apart from some subculture stuff in the 1920s

Secondly, I was watching an episode of The Prisoner this morning at breakfast – “It’s Your Funeral” – and one of the actresses in it caught my ear. And I mean that too because while I didn’t recognise the face, the voice was ringing in my ears telling me something.

And it wasn’t until much later that the penny dropped. It was no one other than Annette Andre, which might mean nothing to you but her most famous role was as Philia, Michael Crawford’s sidekick in the film version of A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum

That film which, although excellent in its own right, was notorious for dropping Frankie Howerd from the lead role in favour of the dreadful Zero Mostel and featuring a cameo of Buster Keaton, two things done simply so that the film would have a wider audience in the USA.

Sunday 13th November 2011 – I DON’T THINK …

… that I will be seeing the wild boar again.

The farmer came down this morning to bring his cows to the field behind the house. He went for his usual walk around to check the boundaries and he must have seen the wild boar tracks because half an hour later the hunters arrived.

I was once at a meeting where I heard a hunter describe hunting as “a noble sport”. I’ve no idea what is noble or sporting about 20 armed men ringing a thicket, sending a bunch of dogs in to flush out everything that is in there and then blasting into oblivion whatever comes fleeing out.

It’s all really sad and pathetic, and brings out the worst in human nature if you ask me. But it’s legal to do it and part of the French rural tradition, so I have to put up with it whether I like it or not.

>This afternoon I went down to Loubeyrat. FC Pionsat St Hilaire’s 2nd XI were playing there today and it’s a nice drive down.

We’ve been here before, a few years ago, and one thing that impressed me then was the view that could be had from the corner of the football ground. It’s right on the edge of the Faille de Limange – the fault line that runs down the centre of the département and there are views from here right across the plain and the valley of the River Allier all the way over to Vichy and the Montagne Bourbonnaise.

It was a real shame about the match though.

Although FC Pionsat St Hilare lost the match 3-0 they were desperately unlucky here. Two superb free kicks and a defensive howler were responsible for the goals but apart from that they did really well. This was probably the best that I’ve seen them play in recent times. They even managed to have a good shape that they kept throughout the match.

It’s just a pity that they can’t play like that every week.

Back here this evening I watched one of the videos that I had bought at Noz in Montlucon for a couple of Euros the other day. This was a Frank Sinatra film called Tony Rome.

Not only does Sinatra not sing in it (for which I am extremely grateful) he acts spectacularly well in his role as a private detective in Miami. If you know any of the Philip Marlowe films, then think of Humphrey Go-kart in The Big Sleep, bring it up to date by 20 years, film it in technicolour with good outdoor scenery and give it some meaningful and convincing co-stars and there you are.

It’s easily the best film that I have bought for quite a while and it will be one that will feature on my regular playlist.

There was a follow-up of it called The Lady In Cement. While it is very very rare for a follow-up to be anything like as good as the original, I shall be trying to track down a copy of that.

But it really was a good film, this.

Wednesday 2nd November 2011 – NEVER MIND …

… the Towering Inferno – and never mind the legendary Tower of Power either. This is what I’ve been doing today.

Well, not all today. The first thing was to give the downstairs part of the lean-to a good clean-out so that I could fetch the scaffolding inside, and then I had to sweep up the floor of the first floor so that I could erect the scaffolding.

It was half-way through that part of the exercise that I realised that maybe it was not such a good idea to put the framework of the washroom in position yesterday. It’s bad enough trying to negotiate the small hatch in the floor without having to negotiate a gratuitous upright as well.

But I tell you what – you know these tournaments where the military have to dismantle a field gun, pass it over a wall and through a hoop and then re-assemble it? I’m entering for that next year. Putting this scaffolding up onto the first floor of the lean-to is good training for that.

And so the scaffolding was erected and that took quite a while to do – mainly because it’s the first time I’ve put the scaffolding up on my own, and I’m not as young as I used to be.

But there it is – all in place and 8 metres high. In fact it’s so high that my ladder won’t reach the top. I’ve had to put that on planks 1 metre off the ground and shin up there like a monkey.

What has impressed me is that the floor of the first floor, that I fitted last summer, is perfectly level. I proved that by setting the adjustable feet of the scaffolding to the same height before I began the assembly,and when I checked the first row of scaffolding with a spirit level, it was absolutely level.

The floor is also extremely strong as well. Not only does it take the weight of the scaffolding, it can withstand the shock of a scaffolding plank (and these are heavy) being dropped onto it from 8 metres up. That is definitely impressive.

Mind you, never mind the answer blowing in the wind, my friend, the scaffolding at 8 metres high is swaying about too and not surprising – we’ve had gusts today of over 25mph.

You might be thinking to yourself that tomorrow I’ll be attacking the wind turbine, but not a bit of it, and that’s all Terry’s fault.

Normally I’d fasten the wind turbine pole with anchor bolts drilled into the wall but the problem with them is that they are never a very good fit in stone and work loose after a while – you need to be constantly tightening them up. But when we were doing the windows Terry showed me a kind of mastic that you squirt into holes and which sets like concrete.

And that gave me an idea.

Drill the holes about 1cm deeper than necessary, squirt a pile of stuff into the hole, ram the anchor into the hole, fit the mounting bracket and tighten up. The force and pressure will force the mastic everywhere into the hole, the crevices, the screw threads and so on, and then set like concrete and (hopefully) you won’t ever be able to move it.

I need to wait until Saturday and shopping so that I can get a tube or two of it. It’s expensive but if it does the job it will be well worth it.

And so until the weekend I’ll be pointing the wall, and in the comparative luxury of a scaffolding too. It makes a change from shinning up ladders with a bucket of stones, a bucket of water and paintbrush, a loose-handled brush, a hammer and chisel, some mortar and a trowel.

-1

Friday 28th October 2011 – HOW LONG IS IT …

… since I took a pic from the birdwatching platform near St Gervais d’Auvergne just up the road from where Liz and Terry live?

Quite some considerable time, I bet.

I was up and about quite early (well, early for me anyway) this morning and after something of a hasty breakfast, in the words of the great Mars Bonfire I got my motor running and headed out for the Highway

It was a cool damp morning but it was heating up quite quickly (well, for this time of year anyway) and this was causing the mist to rise out of all the hollows.

It doesn’t half look impressive when it does that, particularly from up here, and you don’t need any guesses to work out exactly where the Gorges de la Sioule might be when it’s like this. It didn’t half look impressive and it’s one of the sights that everyone should aim to see when they come to visit the Combrailles.

Liz and Terry’s house is down there somewhere and sure enough, they were bathed in mist when I arrived.

Anyway, I picked Liz up and we went to Gerzat for the Radio Arverne sessions of Radio Anglais. We were there for just after 10:00 and so we went for a walk around the town for 20 minutes before Bernard turned up.

It took just over an hour to record the four sessions today – even though Bernard was rather … errr … confused and disorientated. He just now has rather a lot of editing to do.

Back at Liz and Terry’s, Terry and I had quite a long chat about things and then I came back here.

It was raining of course after lunch and so in a change of plan I’ve done a huge amount of tidying up on the ground floor and the first floor and it actually looks like something now to a certain degree. I’ve also done some tidying up outside and that has helped, especially as the vegetation is now dying down for winter and some lost articles are now coming into view.

And tidying up as well. How about that? And to tell you the truth I would have been tidying up this afternoon even if the weather had been absolutely gorgeous because there is a cunning plan looming in the background.

-2

Thursday 29th September 2011 – THE PHONE RANG …

… at 10:00 this morning. And it’s a good job that it did too otherwise I would be still asleep even now.

So much for that early night!

It was Liz on the phone, reminding me about our recording session later doday. And had she not done so I would have gone there for 16:30 and not 14:30. No idea how come that time had entered itself into my head.

But anyway I was in plenty of time to pick her up and we made it to Gerzat with plenty of time to spare. And it’s a good job that we did too because my first task on arriving was to fix their computer which had stopped working. .

Once I’d organised that we could record our next four programmes.

We are using a different format from now on, though. We have 15 minutes rather than 10, and the programmes are divided up into four segments

there are the events
we have the supplementary information – for one week Liz does a recipe, a second week I do a gardening bit, and for the other weeks we discuss useful French phrases.
we have music – English-speaking songs and such-like
we have the legislation bit

And it was hot there too – the temperature displayed on the wall on the pharmacy round the corner was off the scale – more than 40 degrees and I could believe that too. We were sweltering. Late September too!

Liz cooked tea as well which was nice – it’snice being waited on hand and foot every now and again, especially with the delicious food that Liz produces.

Yes, as Golden Earring so famously said that beautiful evening on the beach in Scheveningen in the early 90s – “There’s one thing I want to tell you man – it’s good to be back home”.

-3

Sunday 28th August 2011 – It was Sunday today

And so following the principle of “on the seventh day”, I had a nice long lie-in and for most of the day I haven’t done a tap.

This morning I’ve managed to finish a book that I’ve been reading and then I went to track down some more stuff that I need to take with me to Canada. I want to have my packing finished by tomorrow afternoon.

This afternoon I transcribed the rest of my notes from Canada 2010. You might remember that the dictaphone that I had broke down in the USA. That one recorded on either 1.2 or 2.4 ips but I have an ancient one here that records on 1.8 ips and so I’ve managed to transcribe the notes from that, even though I do sound rather like Donald Duck on it.

I’ve recorded a few more CDs to take with me – some Help Yourself, some Lindisfarne and finally (because I won’t be doing any more) Live in the City of Light by Simple Minds.

None of these were difficult choices. Help Yourself I first encountered on Man’s “All Good Clean Fun” Tour and Help Yourself’s subsequent classic
Good Clean Fun has passed our way and gone
But we’re glad that we have met someone
With a little bit of funk and soul
Man we’re glad we know you!
And not only that, if you are fed up of lead guitar solos where the guitarist plays a million notes so quickly that you can’t hear what he’s playing, then have a listen to the lead guitar solo on “Reaffirmation”. THAT‘s how you play a guitar solo.

Lindisfarne were of course the first serious group I ever saw live, Christmas 1971 at “Up the Junction” in Crewe. I was 17, my girlfriend at the time was nearly 15 and as it was a private members’ club, we borrowed the membership cards of my sister and her husband to get in. That was the night that the rest of the band left Jacka on the stage to play the harmonica solo in “We Can Swing Together” while they dashed off to the pub across the road. At 10:30 the club locked its doors as it was required to do by law, and when the band came back 2 minutes later they couldn’t get back in. They had to bang on the door for 15 minutes before someone would let them back in and poor Jacka was exhausted – the longest gobiron solo in the history of the planet.

As for Live in the City of Light, I had to go to Germany for a week and my car was in the garage so I was obliged to borrow one of a colleague. I didn’t have half my stuff with me, and the only music in the car was “Live in the City of Light”. If it had been most albums, it would have bored me to tears after a day, but not that. In fact it’s never been off my playlist ever since.

So that’s about 50 albums recorded. No matter what happens, I’m not going to be short of music in Canada.

-2

Friday 26th August 2011 – I was up early again this morning …

… at about 08:30 in fact, even though it wasn’t until 04:30 that I went to bed.

Mind you, no-one could sleep with the amount of raid that was cascading down, and the noise that it was making. By the time that I had made my coffee, I reckoned that it was about 8 hours since I had taken the stats, and in that time 27.2mm of rain had fallen. And by the end of the day, we had had over 37mm all told. It never stopped raining and it was as grey as any November or February day that you might mention.

No possibility of working outside and so I started to collect together the tools that I’m taking to Canada. That led to something of a (very insignificant) tidying up on the first floor, and then a much-more-important tidying up up here and finding bits of paper.

But we did have a tragedy though. Do you remember the other week about the impressive media wall that I had built? Well, while I was sitting here drinking a coffee, the whole lot crashed to the floor and there were video cassettes and DVDs all over the place. Talk about chaos.

This afternoon was spent therefore cleaning a load of old bricks, finding lengths of wood and then making some shelves.

You can see them in the photo – a nice cantilever arrangement at the top as well. That all works quite well and I hope that it lasts until I’ve finished the ground floor of the house and settled in, whenever that might be.

I was also interrupted – and very welcome interruptions they were too – by a series of phone calls. Dave from Hexham rang me and we talked about all kinds of things, including that he plans to come down here later this year and teach me plumbing. That ought to be exciting but I think that he’ll be plumbing the depths a little just there. I’ll definitely be out of my depth anyway.

Also ringing up for a chat were Bill and Percy Penguin. And that was nice too – I like talking as you know, and of course Percy Penguin isn’t mentioned in these pages half as often as she deserves to be.

I’ve also started copying some CDs to take with me to play in the hire car. I’ve done three just now, and having read this blog quite often just recently I bet that you can guess what they are.

Yes, Colosseum Live, Made In Japan and Liege And Lief. Say no more. It just happens that I’m listening to Made in Japan right now.

And it’s still raining as well.

-2

Friday 19th August 2011 – What I would be doing this evening …

… is to post a photo of where I finished on Thursday with the pointing, and I did go out this morning to take a photo. However, despite a thorough search, I can’t remember where I put the camera afterwards. It’s defnitely getting to me, all of this.

So after working on the web site this morning I went out and did some more searching for stuff that I need for Canada. And I’m badgered if I can find my box of battery terminals. I’ve about 50 somewhere but your guess is as good as mine.

What I’m intending to do is to buy a caravan battery over there, but to have two terminals with me, with a solar charge controller, a multi-cigarette-lighter socket, a couple of 12-volt sockets and a 12/120 volt inverter wired up to it so that all I need to do is to slip them onto the battery and wire the solar panel to the charge controller. Then I’ll be all set up for my voyage. But where are these blasted terminals?

This afternoon, down to the bank to transfer some money, warn them about my visit to Canada (I don’t want to have another cash card swallowed up by “unusual spending patterns”) and to obtain a certificate of no claims for my insurance over there in case I decide to buy a car. I also went to the Mairie at Pionsat to get some info for the radio programmes.

I still had time afterwards to go up the wall, and I’ve extended the ladder almost right up the the apex – that’s about 9 metres and of course I’m 2 or so metres off the ground before I start, being on the roof of the lean-to. It’s decidedly shaky and being up there with no hands on the ladder while I chisel out the decaying mortar between the stones – I’m just not looking down.

The good side of today though was that the solar water reached 40.5°C and I had a gorgeous shower. What a way to start the weekend? I might even to to the swimming baths tomorrow.

For a little entertainment this evening, I watched the John Wayne film She Wore a Yellow Ribbon. It’s said to be one of his classics but it’s not a patch on El Dorado or Rio Bravo, his two best films by a country mile if you ask me.

What is interesting though is that She Wore a Yellow Ribbon is set in Monument Valley in the Utah-Arizona desert and it brought back all kinds of happy memories as keen long-term followers of this rubbish will recall that I visited there in 2002 when I was first off work ill, and I’ve never ever forgotten that journey. Yes, this evening I saw all kinds of sights that I had seen in the flesh, as it were. I’m definitely getting to be all broody about North America, aren’t I?

What is even more interesting is that they had the Cavalry marching out of the camp to the tune of “Garry Owen”, but that was in 1950 and they wouldn’t ever dare do that now. “Garry Owen” was the marching song of the 7th Cavalry, the late and unlamented General Custer’s regiment and ought to really have died with him at Little Big Horn because it played rather a sinister role in the American Ethnic Cleansing of Native Americans.

Back in 1869, Custer and his cavalry were on the trail of a small band of marauding Cheyenne raiders but losing the way in a blizzard they stumbled upon the camp of Black Kettle, a peaceful Cheyenne chief whose camp on the Washita River, well within the confines of the concentr … errr … Reservation. Setting his band up on a bluff overlooking the camp, Custer had them play “Garry Owen” while he and his soldiers raided the village, massacring every man, woman and child they could find, inculding a white woman and child who Black Kettle had liberated from a raiding party a short while earlier.

The atrocities that were committed on the dead and dying by the 7th Cavalry, described in all their gory – “that’s not a spelling mistake” …ed – by Custer in his book My Life on the Plains and also by many other soldiers at the battle and they make horrific reading.

Of course, this film was made 20 years before the release of Soldier Blue – the first film to blow the lid off the myth of the “heroic” US Cavalry and reveal them as the butchers and sadists that they really were. Soldier Blue concerned the earlier dreadful and notorious massacre of peaceful and innocent native Americans at Sand Creek – the event that brought home to the native Americans that whether they surrendered or whether they resisted, they were still going to be massacred (as indeed they were) and so they stood and fought.

Such was the horror of what happened at Sand Creek that an American Investigating Committee said of Colonel Chivington and his soldiers that
“(we) can hardly find fitting terms to describe his conduct. Wearing the uniform of the United States, which should be the emblem of justice and humanity; holding the important position of commander of a military district, and therefore having the honor of the government to that extent in his keeping, he deliberately planned and executed a foul and dastardly massacre which would have disgraced the verist savage among those who were the victims of his cruelty. Having full knowledge of their friendly character, having himself been instrumental to some extent in placing them in their position of fancied security, he took advantage of their in-apprehension and defenceless condition to gratify the worst passions that ever cursed the heart of man. Whatever influence this may have had upon Colonel Chivington, the truth is that he surprised and murdered, in cold blood, the unsuspecting men, women, and children on Sand creek, who had every reason to believe they were under the protection of the United States authorities”.

Of course, by the time that the Washita came around, some 5 years later, nothing at all of any criticism was levelled. “Manifest Destiny” was now official Government Policy and extermination of the native Americans was all part of the plan.

-5

Sunday 31st July 2011 – While I was having breakfast …

… I was watching the Sherlock Holmes film the Golden Pince-Nez and in it is the immortal line, something like “he’s still in bed. If the weather is really bad he stays in bed until midday”. And that really started my day quite badly because it was the easily the most beautiful day for quite some time and and for reasons that I really do not know, it was 12:22 when I woke up.

No – what happened there I have no idea at all.

Anyway, after breakfast, instead of living in the middle of all kinds of boxes and so on, I revised the media corner and made a pile of impromptu shelves out of old bits of wood and some wine boxes, and now all of the CDs, videos and DVDs are neatly piled up properly where I can see them and where I won’t trip over them. There’s still a long way to go before this place here looks presentable, what with everything I brought back from Brussels, but at least it’s a start. You can’t say I didn’t work at all this afternoon.

This evening, just by way of a change, I went out socialising, and that’s not something that happens every day. I was invited to a barbecue by Isolde – the girl for whom we did a furniture removal last year. She was entertaining and there were loads of people there, including a huge pile of kids which was nice.

I spent most of the time chatting to Karl, Lou, Jean and Elizabeth – after all, it’s really nice to see them.

But as dusk descended on Espinasse I started to feel homesick like I usually do – I don’t do crowds as you know – and so in the best traditions of the News of the Screws, I “made my excuses and left”.

And I’m glad that I left before it went dark because it gave me an opportunity to photograph the sunset and tonight it was absolutely beautiful. It’s not very often that I really catch it exactly at the right moment seeing that I can’t actually see it from my house.

Tomorrow, if I remember to wake up, I’ll do a load of washing if the weather is as nice as it was today. It really was a glorious day.

-3

Saturday 16th July 2011 – HAVING SPENT THE NIGHT …

… parked up on the Motorway Service Area at Drogenbos, a good (for once) sleep led to a major shopping expedition and I have finally found a new whistling kettle – I’ve been hunting one for ages.

And then after lunch it was round to the apartment.

You might recall that back in the winter we tried everything that we could to undo the lock on the cellar to empty it. And nothing we tried would make it work. This time, I took a couple of enormous extensions and a drill and angle grinder. And of course, trying to unlock the door just one more time “for old time’s sake”, it came undone with no issues whatever!

Just like Sam Gamgee’s rope in Lord of the Rings in fact.

And so that was emptied and the racking dismantled in no time flat and all loaded up into Caliburn. I don’t know how people can function without vans, I really don’t.

And so with plenty of time to spare, another shopping trip, this time to IKEA where I discovered a few exciting items in the sale.

Having called at the Simonis Fritkot for my assiette falafel, I headed off to my motorway service area for a kip. But in fact I spent quite a while fixing a car for a British guy returning from holiday with his family and whose electrical charging circuit had broken down.

No peace for the wicked, is there?

Sunday 10th July 2011 – I’m going to bed in a minute…

… in fact, I’ve already crashed out once this evening . . . and so I won’t have the tine to upload any of the maybe 20 photos that I took today.

This morning I was awake at 10:00 and by 10:10 I was out of the house and away. At 10:15 I was round at Marianne’s in Pionsat and we went off to St Hilaire pres Pionsat for the fete touristique that was being held there.

That was probably the most interesting of the ones that we have done so far. There was a group of local musicians and a team of local folk dancers and they put on quite a show, the dancers dragging people up out of the crowd and teaching them the moves.

After the fete touristique had finished Marianne took me across the village to see where the old chateau used to be.

It was formerly quite big and quite well-known, and its demolition was rather a controversial matter. Marianne, who merely mentioned the fact in her book Le Canton de Pionsat, was the subject of some … errr … criticism and adverse remarks despite the way that she phrased her remarks. Had I written the book I would have expressed things differently.

We went for quite a walk around the village in the lovely weather, and discovered quite a few exciting things about the place.

This looks as if it might be a spring, and it emerges in the side of one of the houses in the village. If it is, I’m not quite sure about what looks as if it might be a waste pipe from a sink draining into it. That doesn’t sound like a good idea.

There were lots of other things to see here too. This looks very much like a millpond to me and as we looked around, we saw what might have been an old mill-race. this leads me to believe that at one time there might have been a mill here in the village – not that that would be anything of a surprise.

I also saw an old Peugeot van – either a D3A or a D4A – in someone’s garden but it was surrounded by all kinds of stuff and I couldn’t have a clear shot at it with the Nikon D5000.

This afternoon I went off to the brocante at Marcillat en Combraille. The Combrailles is the brocante capital of the world and the brocante season is now in full swing. I’ll be going to plenty more of these throughout the summer.

But today was good, and for three reasons too.

I met Karl and Lou from Lapeyrouse. We had a wander around together and then went for a coffee and a good chat. It’s nice to meet good friends.
I met a guy who does roof cleaning and facade cleaning on big buildings. We got talking about his cherry picker and it extends to – would you believe – 100 metres in height. And he hires it out too! Yes, no more clambering up ladders and scaffolding for me if I’m installing a wind turbine on someone else’s property. I’m going to do the job in comfort. In fact, thinking on, a cherry-picker might be a useful addition to the fleet.
I made a few good finds. The 12-volt to 7.5 volt adaptor was fine for 50 cents, but the small tripod for €4:00 was excellent. I have a really decent heavy duty tripod that lives in Caliburn and that comes in extremely useful, but it’s far too big to tote around on my travels. This new one folds up to about half the size and so it will fit comfortably into my suitcase of backpack if I’m going for a wander around.
Star of the show though is a 12-volt motor rated at 50 amps. That’s 600 watts or so and that’s a lot of 12-volt power. I have a bench-saw without a motor and this motor will run that a treat. I can also convert an old washing machine to 12-volt with a motor like this – it will run a twin-tub no problem. And the motor was only €2:00 as well. That was a find!

And so after crashing out I had tea and I’ve been listening to music. I bought a pile of CDs for my birthday – they are all good but some of them are magnificent.
I don’t need to say anything about Liege And Lief by Fairport Convention. It’s the best folk-rock album ever, and I bought it to replace an old worn-out tape recording. That’s another album that has not been off my playlist for 35 years, and the “additional track” of Sandy Denny singing “Sir Patrick Spens” has to be worth the price of the album alone.
Made In Japan by Deep Purple is another outstanding album. It’s one that impressed me back in the mid 70s when it first came out but the thing that got me was why I never ever owned a copy of it. It’s hard to imagine that it’s taken me 35 years to get my hands on a copy of it. That’s a long time.
The third, though, is something else. The subject of the group “Colosseum” came up in a conversation a whle ago and I was obliged to admit that I had never heard anything by them. I’m one of these people who think that there’s no place for saxophones in a rock band, and I never really rated Chris Farlowe’s singing all that much. But there was a copy of Colosseum Live for sale on the internet at a reasonable price and so I took the plunge. And I’m astonished! I can’t believe just how good this album is. It’s a proper jazz/blues album featuring jazz/blues played just how it ought to be played – nice long jamming tracks which – just for a change – are tuneful and meaningful and contribute to the whole. Chris Farlowe’s singing still grates on me but it actually fits in with the music, and his life performance and stage ad-libbing are just superb. “Take me Back to Lost Angeles” has taken my breath away. I can’t believe that I’ve waited so long to get to grips with this group and this album.

In other news, my other friend Marianne from Brussels has had her first novel published. When I get the ISBN I can publish a link to it. What with Rhys’s High-Speed Photography book, Liz about to start work on the Memoirs of Strawberry Moose and the first Marianne’s book on Pionsat as mentioned above, I’m in danger of being left behind by my friends.

I need to get my Trans Labrador Highway book up and running PDQ.

-1

Friday 17th June 2011 – THAT WAS A LONG …

… day!

I was reading a posting about a teacher friend of mine who had done an 8-hour day on a Saturday and how she was annoyed. My working day starting yesterday was 32 hours and 32 minutes, which is more than a teacher works in a week.

It was about 20:45 when I reached Liz and Terry’s this evening, and my day was far from over.

Caliburn, Strawberry Moose, the Brian James Trailer and the Takeuchi mini-digger crawled off the train at Calais as dawn was breaking, and without hanging about, we hit the road straight away.

copulatum expensium, as we Pompeiians say. I’m going the shortest, most direct route home and if I’m going to be fleeced on the péage, that’s rather a shame. Towing a trailer, I have to pay the same as an artic.

“Keep away from Paris” was the obvious plan. I’m right on the limit of what I can tow with this outfit and I don’t want any police interaction or any confrontation with crazy urban motorists.

There’s a motorway from Calais via St Quentin and Reims as far as the far side of Troyes, and then over the Burgundy mountains to the motorway at Nevers, with only the centre of Auxerre to worry about.

And that’s the way that I took – a nice leisurely saunter where I sometimes even reached the trailer-towing 90kph speed limit.

The motorway exit at Troyes is … errr … complicated, with a series of roundabouts where the camber is all wrong for the unbalanced rig that I’m driving. We had a couple of interesting moments.

And I almost came a cropper at the Intermarché on the edge of town – I’d forgotten about the height barrier and the jib of the digger. But I could enter the car park via the petrol station. I had a very late lunch and fuelled up Caliburn – he’s been quite thirsty, and no surprise!

The mountains were certainly exciting, as anyone who has driven between Auxerre and Nevers will tell you, and I was relieved to hit the motorway again. With no policemen bothering me, I could drift on slowly through the early evening down to Sauret-Beserve.

And was I glad to be back? I’d worked hard over the 20 or so days that I’d been away and covered a lot of ground.

Now I’m ready for a rest.

-1

Thursday 16th June 2011 – THIS IS GOING TO BE A LONG …

… day today.

There I was, sitting in the library reading my book, almost close to lunchtime, and my phone rang. Sure enough, the money has been received and I can no go and rescue the mini-digger.

So just like Janet in Tam Lin, off to Kettering Screwfix went I, as fast as go could me, for my final order or stuff.

Round the corner to Daventry and Brian James Trailers for my new trailer. And here I was in luck. I should have picked it up a week ago but it wasn’t ready. But here I am, with a trailer and a free gift of two heavy duty ratchet straps.

I”ll need those for holding the digger onto the trailer – in fact I’d just bought a couple at Screwfix but the more the merrier and these are certainly good stuff – better than anything I’ve ever had.

Stuck to 90 kph with the trailer now, so I wasn’t as quick to Droitwich as I might have been. Terry had ordered a huge ladder from the ladder company here so I heaved that on the roof rack. There was space.

Of course, it was Birmingham and the M6/M5 interchange in the rush hour, wasn’t it? The last thing that I wanted. But it couldn’t be helped. “Hier stehe ich – ich kann nicht anders” as Martin Luther was once famously heard to say.

It was 20:10 when I arrived at Accrington via Bacup, and by 20:30 I was on the road again.

But it wasn’t easy, to say the least.

The trailer is a lightweight car transporter so it only has two aluminium channels for the car wheels, and the track is far too wide for the digger.

We improvised with a heavy-duty scaffolding plank but the weight was far too offset to the outside.

While driving round right-hand bends was a dream, driving round left-hand bends was interesting to say the least, with the left-hand trailer wheels lifting.

It was a slow drive. But at least Terry’s big ladder was safe.

We then had to find my booking reference to amend the booking to add on the trailer but I couldn’t find that either. After 15 minutes of fruitless searching on Keele Services and a phone call to Liz, I realised that I would never make it if I didn’t get a wiggle on.

I abandoned that idea at that point, best foot forward, and trust in the Lord. We’ll confront the issue when it arises

After an exciting drive down the M6,M1,M25 and M20, being fleeced something rotten at the Dartford Crossing, I made it Folkestone with just 10 minutes to spare.

They noticed the trailer of course (they would have been blind not to) and so that set me back another £78 – not to mention the fuel that Caliburn was consuming and the blasted Dartford Crossing.

I curled up in a corner of Caliburn’s cab. it’s late, I’m tired and I’ve not done half the trip yet.

Wednesday 15th June 2011 – I HAD A POLICE …

… errr … interaction this evening.

There I was, clambering into the back of Caliburn this evening to find something, and a police car pulled up alongside me.

One of Cambridge’s finest rolled down the window – “is this your vehicle?”
“As a matter of fact it is” I replied.
So he rolled up his window and drove away.

How did he know that I was telling the truth? And what would he have done if I had said that it wasn’t?

But never mind the police interaction – I’ve also had some bad news.

The guy with the digger in Baacup phoned. The money hasn’t appeared in his bank account yet. Obviously I can’t go to pick up the digger so I shall have to hang round here for a while longer.

Not that it worries me – I’m deeply engrossed in The War in the Air and I wouldn’t care if I had to stay here for another 5 years until I finish reading it – as long as it keeps warm.

No use going to the Services on the M10 this evening if they are closed. I went to the big Tesco’s just outside the town and here I got into trouble.

I’ve … errr … misplaced my portable hard drive (that’s possibly where all of the missing photos went to) and the hard drive on the laptop is pretty full. And there’s nothing that I can delete off it quite yet.

Tesco’s has a good electrical and electronic section but it’s upstairs – and that’s all chained off. But no-one was watching so I hopped over the chains.

Nevertheless, I was accosted by the manager on the way down and he had quite a moan at me. But by then it was too late and a new portable hard drive was in my sweaty little mitt. So now I’m fixed up.

And I hope that this blasted money is there tomorrow morning. My trip back is tomorrow night (well, Friday early morning) and I want to be on it. I don’t really want to loiter around here any longer than I have to.

I’ll be stuck here for the weekend if I don’t pick my trailer up.

Tuesday 14th June 2011 – I LEFT YOU …

… last night as I was pulling up outside the Library at Cambridge University.

Today, I was battling, and battling unsuccessfully as you might expect, with one of the most classic examples of incestuous Academia that you would ever have the misfortune to meet.

There’s a really big car park at the University Library, as I knew. What I didn’t know is that it’s locked during closing hours. Parking in the street outside is controlled during working hours, but it’s a nice wide verge with plenty of free spaces and in a quiet area.

The plan would be therefore that I would park up for the night outside in the street, wake up really early, and be queueing in Caliburn at the gate to the car park when they came to unlock it.

Here’s Strawberry Moose queueing up to enter the library.

He was quite keen to teach a couple of courses at the University until I explained to him that the word is Lecturers, not Lechers.

Rather like the time that he tried to charter a plane to come home from Canada – but changed his mind when they told him that it was spelt L-E-A-Rjet.

So in I walked to the University library.

And I had a reason to be here too. Someone in Pionsat had heard of a story that an Eton teacher by the name of William Johnson Cory had visited the Auvergne and made a reference to the Chateau de Pionsat in one of his letters.

Before setting out, I had done some research into the aforementioned and discovered that on his death in 1892 he had bequeathed his letters to the Cambridge University library.

So here I had come to read them.

But I was failing to take into account the incestuous nature of Academia at the UK’s top-drawer University.

Yes, his papers are here. But no, I can’t see them.
“Why not?”
“Are you from the University?”
“No I’m not”
“Well, you need to have a letter from someone connected with the University validating your research project”
“But I’ve just come from France – I don’t know anyone here.”
“Well we can’t let you consult our papers until a researcher connected with our own University has had the opportunity to examine them”
“You mean that no-one from the University has examined them yet?”
“That’s right”
“And they’ve been here since 1892?”
“Yes”.

No wonder that mainstream Academia has such a poor reputation when the Universities are prepared to sit upon piles of unrecorded papers until the cows come home rather than let researchers from outside their own sphere of control have a peek.

Who knows WHAT treasures these Universities might be sitting on? When you read in some of these journals things like “a rare 7th-Century poem by Caedmon has just been discovered in an Oxbridge Library” you can understand why, now.

But I had nothing better to do and nowhere else to go, so I raided the University library just the same, seeing as I was in.

And here I hit the jackpot.

On the shelves was an original version of all of the volumes of Sir Walter Raleigh (not him, the other one)’s The War in the Air – totally original and un-defaced, even with all of the maps and plates. And I’ve never seen that before.

This was the book commissioned by the British Government as the Official History of the Royal Flying Corps (later the RAF) from its inception until the end of World War i.

I’ve been trying to find a copy of all of the volumes but the only ones that I have ever seen have had their maps and photograph plates removed, and the books are of much less interest without those.

But here I was in my element.

Later that evening I went for a drive to the outskirts of town where I cooked a meal (not practical to do that in the street right outside the Library) in a layby.

Having eaten, I then went on to a Motorway Service Area on the M10 – quite a drive and after all of that, the internet was down.

So I came back to my my spec outside the Library and had an early night.

EPIC HALL

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