Tag Archives: football

Thursday 14th September 2017 – I’M NOT SLEEPING …

… very well at all just now. It was another pretty miserable night from that point of view and I didn’t have much sleep.

I’d been on my travels too, but no idea where to because it’s all gone out of my head … “beacuse there’s nothing in there to keep it in” – ed … now.

Another thing that I didn’t do is to take my tablets. Not when I have an early start like today where I need to be on the road by 08:00.

And I arrived in North West River at 08:45, beating my local guide by about 30 seconds.

While he was busy provisioning the motor boat, I was busy provisioning myself. We are going quite far today – a lot farther than WE DID AT CARTWRIGHT.

It’s for this reason that I need to stock up with the supplies because there’ nothing whatever where we are going.

And so leaving North West River behind us, we head off down Hamilton Inlet.

We’re heading due east, in the general direction of Rigolet and the open sea.

But we’ll be turning off a long way before then – going probably about a quarter of the way down and then turning off to the north.

The first settlement that we pass is the rather enigmatically-named “Butter and Snow”.

I’ve no idea why it was so named, although it is known that the family who lived there, called Rich (although I have seen it spelt “Ritch”) owned a cow.

There was still a permanent resident there a couple of years ago, and he would be here today had he not died in a skidoo accident.

While you admire the absolutely stunning scenery of the Hamilton Inlet, maybe I should fill you in on a little history of Inner Labrador.

In the late 18th and early 19th century the Hudsons Bay Company recruited Scotsmen mainly from the outlying islands of the North, to come and work here.

That explains the proliferation of family names such as McLean, Campbell, Baikie, Goudie and the like.

There was a very strong French-Canadian presence here too and a rival company from Paris – Revillon Frères – set up competing posts in the area.

That explains the presence of French family names, the most famous of which is Michelin.

The job of these Europeans was to liaise with the natives and deal with the furs that the Innu and Inuit brought in.

Very often, being left to their own devices out of season, these “European” people would go off on their own to spy out the possibilities of the land.

Many chose to stay here after their term of engagement ended, and they quite often set up on their own account as trappers and fishermen.

But the fact is that they all would have died, because the climate here and the living conditions can be vicious.

The only thing that saved them were encounters with the Inuit – or occasionally Innu – women.

Most of the men took native women as partners and it was they who showed them how to survive in the extreme Labrador climate.

Each family would settle in its own cove or river mouth, and that was where they would fish, and hunt and trap in the hinterland.

Occasionally though, you might find a mixture of families living in the same cove.

What might have happened is that a family only had daughters, and sons from neighbouring families would marry the daughters.

These men would stay on to inherit the traplines of the wife’s family, rather than taking the daughters back to their own coves.

And the fishing and trapping lifestyle was carried on until, I suppose, the last 60 or 70 years.

Firstly the huge American air base and secondly the Government’s controversial resettlement programme resulted in the exodus.

But everyone here who is native to the area is what one would call a Métis – the offspring (sometimes many generations removed) of a “European” male and a “native” female.

A former phrase used quite commonly until about 50 years ago is now considered to be offensive

People still come out here regularly to the cabins of their ancestors, whether for weekends or holidays.

And a limited amount of trapping is still carried on. There’s a fur buyer in Goose Bay and a couple of fur auctions in Montreal and Winnipeg.

But mainly it’s to escape from the towns and return to the olden days.

Rather than take the direct route, because there’s quite a storm brewing up in the Inlet, we are hugging the coast.

And threading our way through the offshore islands – the North West Islands in fact.

According to the censuses of 1935 and 1945, these were inhabited by the “Baikie” family. Hordes of them in fact.

So after about 90 minutes of sailing (or, rather, motoring) we arrive at our destination.

This is the abandoned settlement of Mulligan, and it’s probably the most famous of all of the settlements out here.

And its claim to fame is that is was the home of possibly the most famous person in Labrador – Lydia Campbell.

I’ve come here with one of Lydia’s descendants. He’s going to show me around the settlement and later on, we may well be going to meet her.

And so we moor the boat up an the bank and step ashore – back into almost 200 years of history because the “Campbell” of our story is a late arrival.

He didn’t turn up from the Orkneys until the early 1840s

Mulligan was a huge settlement by the standards of the day. At one time there were 20 families living here and the settlement had its own school.

By the time of the census of 1935 there were 6 families of 32 people, all Baikies and Campbells.

And in 1945 there were 8 families of 39, and we have acquired a family called “Chaulk”.

the hump of earth that you can see in the foreground is said to be the site of the cabin of the more famous Campbells.

Of course, it’s long-gone now, just as they are. But it’s still interesting to see the site where they are said to have lived, even if there is very little left to see.

No memorial of course, because it’s not exactly on the tourist track here.

Of the more modern descendants of Lydia Campbell, that is their own former family home from before the relocation.

It still receives some occasional use and is currently undergoing a process of renovation.

Who knows? We might even end up with some more permanent residents. Wouldn’t that be interesting? But it’s unlikely.

By the time of the turn of the 20th Century most people had forsaken the traditional log cabin for a wood-plank house.

And then promptly realised their error, for nothing is as suitable to the Labrador environment than a traditional log cabin.

But one family has kept its original log cabin, and kept it in excellent condition too, regularly painted and maintained.

This is what all of these villages would have looked like 150 years ago – minus the paint of course.

By now, after all of our issues, it was lunchtime. So we sat in the shade and ate our butties.

I was regaled with stories of life out here 70 years ago, and life in Labrador in general.

But one interesting fact that I was told was that the red berries – the partridgeberries – were unknown in Mulligan when the place was in permanent occupation.

Today, there are partridgeberries everywhere all over the ground. You can’t move for stepping on them.

There’s something else around here that you can’t move without stepping in.

I can personally vouch for the fact that it’s a lie – bears DO NOT go to the bathroom in the woods.

Before we move off from here, there’s just something else to see. And it’s how Mulligan has been brought into the 21st Century.

One of the cabins here has not only an array of solar panels but a wind turbine too. Just like me back home.

So let’s hear it for the solar panels. Hip, hip, array!

Now comes the exciting bit – we have to get across there to thefar bank of the river.

And in case you haven’t noticed, there’s a sand bar blocking the passage for the boat. I have a feeling that the next part of our adventure is going to be very cold and very wet.

And I don’t have waders.

We’ve made it across to the sand bar anyway, but our adventure is only just beginning.

We now have to reach across the creek to the shore and I’ll tell you something for nothing – this water is deep and it’s freezing cold.

And I have no footwear either – no point in having that soaking wet.

So up to our waists almost we were obliged to wade.

And then a good trek through the woods in bare feet, which was probably not a good idea.

But we made it all the same, and here we are at Mulligan Cemetery, the home of the most famous woman in Labrador – certainly in the 19th Century.

and here is the heroine of our story, Lydia Campbell.And what an effort it has been to reach her grave.

She was born in 1818 and in 1848 in a second marriage she married Daniel Campbell, not long out from the Orkneys with the HBC.

Family tradition has it that Campbell knew absolutely nothing about life as a “liveyer” and Lydia taught him absolutely everything.

Later, as she grew older, she lamented about the loss of traditional “liveyer” skills, apparent even in her own lifetime.

As a result, a visiting clergyman encouraged her to write a book about the traditional liestyle of a “liveyer” woman and the result – Sketches of Labrador Life by a Labrador Woman is probably the most significant book ever to come out of Labrador

My guide took me to see the grave of his grandmother, Druscilla. I’d seen from the various censuses that his grandfather had lived alone with his children and I had wondered why.

And the date on the tombstone gives us a clue as to the cause of death.

November 12th 1918. That was at the height of the Spanish Influenza epidemic. It wasn’t as overwhelming down here as on the coast but nevertheless it had quite an impact

Of all of the other graves here in the cemetery, this one is quite important. In here are buried what are believed to be three bodies

One night, part of the bank underneath someone’s house collapsed and a pile of bones, believed to be of three people, were washed out.

They were sent to St John’s where there were examined and said to be “Inuit bones of historical date”. They were reburied here in 2004.

We’d spent so long in the cemetery that the tide had come in quite a way, and if we thought that it was deep coming in, it was even deeper going out and I was perishing.

Not only that, the wind had got up and the Inlet was now a churning mass of waves . We were going to be in for a rough passage.

Our trip to the abandoned settlement at Pearl River was summarily abandoned and we turned back.

But what made my day, and made me quite proud was my guide who tol me, afer all of the wrestling that we had done with the boat and the river “you’re some tough cookie”.

We were heading back that way, in the general direction of North West River, and that was what was awaiting us.

In fact there were several storm clouds building up all around us

They do say that Labrador is very much like the Auvergne in the respect that “if you don’t like the weather, just wait a few minutes – it’ll soon be different.

It was round about here that we had the legendary moment of
Our Hero – “is that a sailing boat over there?”
Local guide “it’s an island with a couple of trees growing on it”
Note to self – arrange appointment with opticians on return

But then, I suppose, if I’d been able to see what I was doing, I would never have set out.

Our next stop, which was going to be our last one given the weather, was the settlement of Sabesquacho.

Or however you might like to spell it because I’ve seen it spelt a thousand different ways

There never was an approved way of spelling many of the place round here in the 19th and 20th Centuries and people wrote down the names as they heard them

This was the home of the “Michelin” family – or, at least, one of their homes because they had spread out quite a way down the bay.

My guide told me that at one time there had been as many as 12 children (and presumably the adults too) living in that house.

Big families were not necessarily prolific here though. You’ll find many families with 6 or 7 children but the death rate was appalling.

Despite this being a British colony until 1949, there was no Government Health Service here until modern times. From about 1900 until the 1980s you had the “Grenfell Volunteers” and prior to that, there was nothing at all.

As well as the Michelins, there were a few Pottles living here in the vicinity in the censuses of 1935 and 1945

And of course we still have the summer cabins for the families, mot of whom resettled in North West River.

The cabin on the left is said to be a cabin of former permanent occupation but the one on the right is more modern.

And you’ll notice the ty bach on the extreme left. No plumbing of any sort here.

Having made a race of it when conditions allowed, we made it back to North West River, beating the torrential downpour by a matter of minutes.

There were some kids playng around on the quayside when we arrived. “I wonder how long it will be before one of them falls in” I said

“Pushed in, more like” muttered my companion

And so considerably lighter in weight and considerably wetter, I headed for home. My wallet was considerably lighter too but I may not be coming here again and I needed to make this visit now

Final trip for today was to Goose Bay airport.

My landlord had told me where there were several planes on display, including an Avro Vulcan “V-bomber” of the 1950s and 60s

Of course I didn’t want to miss out on seeing that and so I took a deviation on the way home topay it a visit. After all, I remember these from my childhood on the beach at Ramsgate

and remember yesterday when we saw the football ground in town?

Here, would you believe, is one on the air base. And it’s in much better conition too.

Actually, it’s no surprise really to find a football ground here. There were various branches of NATO air forces(British, Dutch, German) who came here during the war so I imagine that it’s something to do with them.

Everywhere else that I wanted to visit in town was closed by the time that I returned wo I went back to my digs, had a coffee and shower, and washed my clothes in the washing machine.

Tea was potatoes, veg and onion gravy made into a kind of soup, and then an early night. I was totally exhausted.

Wednesday 13th September 2017 – IN THE HAPPY VALLEY CEMETERY …

Our Hero, looking for the grave of Gilbert Blake, arguably the most famous Labradorian of the early 20th Century
Man in digger, digging a hole
two men in suits, watching aforementioned man in digger digging aforementioned …

Our Hero, quite casually and lightheartedly to man in digger –
“what are you doing? Putting them in or digging them up?”
Two men in suits – “We’re police officers. Would you mind leaving the scene immediately?” (You could easily imagine the “or else …”)
Later that evening on Goose Bay Radio “following a court order obtained by the Royal Canadian Mounted Police, an exhumation was carried out in Happy Valley Cemetery this afternoon …”

Yes, it’s all been happening here today, hasn’t it?

Last night was another rather restless night.

I seem to be having them in cycles just now – a batch of good nights followed by a batch of not-so-good nights. And it’s annoying in a way, but can’t be helped.

But I did manage to go out on my travels last night, which is a good thing. It involved my red Cortina estate XCL 465X. The back axle had locked up and so I had taken it for repair. When they opened the halfshaft, a pile of water, not oil, flooded out.
“Ohh, we’ll have to wait for another 41 rinses then” said the mechanic. That filled me full of foreboding because that was going to work out to be extremely expensive and I wasn’t sure whether I could afford the cost of the repairs.

It was nevertheless a struggle to leave the bed and when I did finally make it to the living room, mine host was already there preparing breakfast.

I waited quite a while for my tablets to work and then I joined my housemates for breakfast. And this is the first place on my travels where I have ever been offered soya milk. Apparently mine host’s wife drinks it.

Once I’d gathered my wits about me, Strider and I set out for North West River to see what had happened to the guy whom I was supposed to meet.

At the Labrador Interpretation Centre, I met the lady who had been so nice to me two years ago. To my surprise, she remembered me.

And as for my contact, he’s “gone to his cabin until Friday”.

However, as a stroke of luck, she reckoned that she might know the person to whom my contact was intending to introduce me.

And the reason why it should have been yesterday was because today, he was going … exactly to where I wanted to go.

But she took my number and promised that she would have him telephone me as soon as he returned.

There are three cemeteries in North West River.

The influenza victims are said to be in the earliest one, but all that I could find was this headstone of Thomas Blake, aged 59, died in November 1918.

It’s hard to say what the day is, but if it’s the 12th, that might well tie in with what we know. The Sagoma with its infected crew arrived in Cartwright on 20th October and the infected Harmony arrived at Okak on 4th November.

But in the cemeteries, all of the old original “trapper” families of Hamilton Inlet are represented.

Here in this photograph, we have, for example, a couple of Meshers from Rigolet, a Michelin and a MacDonald.

The origins of the “Michelin” name are unclear. But there was a French trading post here on the south side of the river where Sheshatshiu stands today, and it might be connected with that.

Plenty of Blakes and Baikies as you might expect, and also dozens of Goudies.

This is the grave of Sarah Michelin, née Goudie and her name certainly rings a bell, although I can’t think for the life of me why.

In fact, everyone who is anyone is here – except of course for Gilbert Blake, even though he will for ever be associated with North West River.

Now I know that I shouldn’t smile about events in e cemetery, but sometimes it’s just not possible to stop.

Murdoch McLean, a beloved husband and father is buried here. And it reminds me of the American visiting the cemetery in Arbroath.

“Here Lies Jock McTavish, a loyal husband and devoted father”
“Now isn’t that ust like the Scots? Burying three men in one grave?”

But this next grave is enough to wipe the smile off anyone’s face.

Two young children aged almost three and almost four. Same surname, but different parents. probably related though died on the same day and buried in the same grave.

That’s the kind of tragedy that always seems to befall isolated communities like this. And the cemetery was full of the graves of small children.

This is the “Paddon memorial” in North West River.

Labrador was a British colony – not part of Canada – until 1949 but was treated even worse than Africa, with no infrastructure and no medical service.

It was a charitable organisation – the International Grenfell Organisation – that provided medical services here. And then only from the early years of the 20th Century.

It was Dr Harry Paddon and his wife – and later their son William – who came here from the IGA to deal with the health issues of the “liveyers” and the Innu and Inuit communities.

They are still fondly remembered in the community, despite Harry having on one famous occasion blotted his record by describing some trappers as “backyard bunny hunters”

Having done the tour of the cemeteries I went down to the beach.

The beach here in North West River is quite famous, being one of the nicest accessible beaches in this part of Canada.

But I would be very wary about bringing your bikini or your cozzy here because it’s not exactly sun-bathing weather and the water is freezing.

For lunch I went to sit on the dockside to look at the river.

But there’s also what was the Hudsons Bay Company offices over there, and also the North West River terminal of the chairlift.

The bridge here is of comparatively recent construction. Prior to that we had the chairlift, and prior to that it was either kayak, canoe or ice skates.

Having had a little … errr … relax, I decided to go for a stroll in the warm sun.

While I was walking along the boardwalk towards the tipi, I finally had my telephone call.

The person for whom I was looking was now back from up-country and I told him what I was hoping to do.

This led to quite a lengthy discussion and we worked out a cunning plan for tomorrow. I need to be back here for 09:00 and that means yet another night in Happy Valley-Goose Bay.

The highlight of North West River is the Trappers’ memorial. The whole raison d’etre of the town was as a centre for the trappers.

The Hudsons Bay company had a store here where trappers would trade their pelts for supplies.

And if you were in dispute with the Hudsons Bay Company, as many people were, the French company Revillon Frères had a rival post on the opposite bank of the river.

Now, isn’t this the right kind of place to live?

In my opinion it’s the most beautiful place in the whole of North West River in which to live.

Believe it or not, it’s not all that old. It was erected in 1995. And it’s not a kit home either, but constructed out of local materials by local craftsmen.

And they can construct something for me at any time they like.

You’ll remember that yesterday we visited one of the very few farms here in Labrador. Today we’re having a crafty peek at someone’s greenhouse.

I’ve absolutely no idea what it is that he’s growing in there – there was no-one around to ask – but I certainly admire anyone who gives gardening a go around here.

Mind you, having said that, it was quite the thing around here when the Grenfell Association ran the show before Confederation in 1949.

One of the things that I wanted to do was to take a drive down to North West Point on the southern side of the river.

This was the site of an American radio post in the 1950s and is something of an environmental disaster because the US Military cared nothing about the territory of Labrador.

A Canadian Government Environmental Report of 28th November 2011 “highlights chemicals of concern with concentrations exceeding the applicable criteria”.

I’d done some research to find out where the access road might be, but unfortunately, it seems to have been all ploughed up and impassible.

I wasn’t going to risk taking Strider down there and these days, I’m not up to doing a hike of any distance in these kind of conditions.

It looks as if I shall have to forget this one.

Instead, I continue down the gravel road, and I’m not disappointed by what I find.

I could show you 10 photos that I took from this spot but instead I’ll let you have a glimpse of just one – which I think might be of the docks and seaplane base down at Terrington Basin.

That’s where the ships come in, and where we saw the Fairlane the other day.

Talking of the seaplane base, which is at Otter Creek, we’re in luck yet again. Here on the slipway is Airborealis’ C-GNFZ.

She’s a De Havilland DHC6-300 – a type that is much better-known as the “Twin Otter” and is one of the more successful low-capacity commercial passenger planes, ideal for travel out here.

She was built in 1980 and as you can see, she’s still going strong.And, for a twin Otter, quite appropriately here at Otter Creek

But an earlier claim to fame for Otter Creek took place here.

Prior to the air base there was very little here at Goose Bay. The people who came here to build the air base had nowhere to live and so set up a squatters’ camp here on this spot.

They were soon moved on by the US authorities, but it’s here that it all started.

And here’s a thing!

Regular readers of this rubbish will recall that we have more than a passing interest in football grounds. And here is probably one of the most unlikely football grounds that you will ever encounter.

And, more to the point, who does the team play against? I can’t imagine that there’s much in the way of opposition around here.

And from here, I had my encounter in the cemetery.

Back here, I had more baked beans, baked potatoes and vegan sausages and yet another early night.

And it’s not as if I’ve done very much either.

Friday 1st September 2017 – STRANGELY ENOUGH …

… that was the cheapest place where I’ve spent the night so far. And funnily enough, it was the best night’s sleep that I have had since I’ve been back on the road.

But although it was a better night than just recently, it still wasn’t what I would call ideal. I was still tossing and turning in my bed, although not as much as the last couple of nights.

Liz and Terry came to join me though – or, rather, I went to join them. They were moving house and had a couple of boys to help them – and the had done so well that there was only a couple of things in the garage underneath that needed to go. And I reckoned that if we planned it properly we could fit everything into the two vans and do it in one trip. Just then, as we were sitting thinking about it, some English couple (because we were abroad) were push-starting a car – a white-coloured car something like an ADO16 – down the hill at the side. The woman behind the wheel couldn’t control it on the bed and it came round and collided with the side of Liz and Terry’s house, which was made of metal (well, quite!). This is the kind of thing that would happen just before the new owners were coming to take possession. So Liz went out to attend to them. I went off into town to do something and on the way back the town was thronging with school kids being kicked out of school. There was a loudspeaker announcement about the end-of-year results (hence them hanging around) and they started to announce the names of the pupils who had done exceptionally well and had earned a reward. Back at Liz and Terry’s, it seemed that Liz was disappointed about something. “I bet they’ll argue about the time” she said, presumably referring to the people who had collided with the house. “What time do you say that it happened,” she asked me. “16:15” I said confidently. “Well there you are” replied Liz. “At least you agree with me”.

The alarm went off at 06:00 as usual and so did I. in fact, I awoke again with quite a start at 06:11 and only just made it out of bed before Billy Cotton’s strident summons at 06:15.

I’d organised breakfast for 08:15 so that gave me a couple of hours to catch up with stuff that needed doing, and then off to rejoin the Land of the Living.

The people here – other guests as well as the landlady and her father – were very pleasant and we passed quite an agreeable hour or so chatting.

And I learnt something thing morning. According to the old guy who had worked out in Labrador, it was the berserk behaviour of the compasses of the aeroplanes of the Atlantic Ferry flying over Labrador and Upper Quebec that first alerted people to the presence of the iron ore deposits.

Breakfast was really nice – they respected my diet – and the home fries and fruit was superb. along with toast with vegan margarine (the landlady had some in stock). She even let me check the label on the container.

Orange juice and coffee too, and as soon as you had taken a coupe of sips out of your mug the old guy would totter by and fill it up.

After breakfast I had a shower and started to organise my stuff. I need a blanket and pillow for the boat and not much else so I could go through my rucksack and eliminate what won’t be needed until I dock.

That was my cue to hit the road and having safely and correctly negotiated the roundabout, I eventually arrived in North Sydney.

But I didn’t go very far, because regular readers of this rubbish will recall that amongst our projects that we undertake on our travels is to find the local football ground.

It’s not exactly what I would call a stadium, and I don’t think that a pair of wingers would be of any great advantage on this pitch, given how narrow it is, but it’s a football pitch all the same and that’s a rare thing to see in North America.

Ahhhh – so THAT’S what happened to Superfast IX.

Once upon a time, not so long ago, a company organised a ferry service from Rosyth in Scotland to Zeebrugge in Belgium.

It picked up two giant ships from the Baltic that had been part of a (failed) project launched by the Swedish government in the early years of the 21st Century to run a ferry across to Rostock.

The Rosyth-Zeebrugge ferry service didn’t last too long either and the ships were delared surprlus to requirements. I don’t know where one of them went to and I didn’t know about the second – Superfast IX – but I do now!

Here she is, in all her glory, back in service as Atlantic Vision and I’ll be travelling on her this afternoon to Argentia.

Fastest ferry on the North Sea she was in her day, and I hope that she lives up to her reputation across the Gulf of St Lawrence.

And while I was taking a photo of Atlantic Vision I was treated to something of a ballet just outside the port.

As the Blue Puttees was reversing out of her berth on her way with the lunchtime sailing to Channel Port aux Basques, Lief Ericson, the truckers’ ferry that runs between North Sydney and Channel Port aux Basques, was pulling in behind her.

I was lucky enough to be treated to a very rhythmical dance as the ferries manoeuvred around each other

As for Lief Ericson, what can I say about her?

We all know about her and probably many of us have travelled on her before in her previous existence as Stena Challenger.

Built in 1991, she was named for the lost Space Shuttle and spent the first 10 years of her life operating out of Dover to Calais and occasionally Dunkerque, with a little relief spell on the Holyhead-Ireland route.

As for Blue Puttees, she was one of the two ships that came here a couple of years ago to replace Caribou and Joseph and Clara Smallwood.

Built in 2006, she was formerly the Stena Trader and she and her sister (here as the Highlander) ran the short-lived ferry service from Hoek van Holland to Killingholme in the UK.

She takes her name from the nickname given to the Royal Newfoundland Regiment.

Another thing that regular readers of this rubbish will recall is the regret that I have for the decline of educational standards throughout the western world.

It’s not particularly important (but it’s still sad nevertheless) if Joe Public can’t speak English correctly.

But when a body like the North Sydney Historical Society and the North Sydney Town Council don’t understand the basics of English grammar then it really is something that depresses me enormously.

Mind you, having said that, poor English grammar is one thing. The North Sydney Historical Society’s rewriting of history is something else completely.

I don’t know who it is that they employ as a proof-reader but I wouldn’t pay them in washers because this isn’t the kind of error that would normally sneak by un-noticed.

I just wonder what was going through the minds of the people who wrote the text, the proof-readers who checked it and the printers who printed it.

Having been for a good walk around the town I went back and sorted out Strider. But not before I’d been accosted by a particularly aggressive beggar who became most upset when I told him to clear off.

Thanks to the laundry basket that I bought yesterday, all of the food is now assembled in one place. Everything else is filed away tidily thanks to the cargo net that I bought last year.

It was thus quite easy to locate my blanket (the one that I bought at Dysarts two years ago), my towel and my little pillow and they are now nicely stored in my rucksack ready for the sailing this afternoon. I intend to be as comfortable as I can.

And so I went back to where I’d met the beggar (and photographed the ships) with Strider to make my lunchtime butties and sit in the sun admiring the ships.

If you look at the photograph above which shows the dancing ships, that’s actually the site of the coal staithes and the dock in which the coal ships going out to Newfoundland and the outlying islands would have been moored.

A branch of the railway line came down here bringing the coal from a local mine. But unfortunately there’s not a single trace of anything from that period still remaining.

The interesting thing about it all is that it’s actually an artificial “island” – formed by the rocks brought as ballast by the ships that came here empty for the coal.

At the dock entrance we had a nightmare. I had found the tickets but I needed to produce my passport and my driving licence. And I couldn’t find them anywhere, despite stripping out Strider.

The last time that I had had them was yesterday when I handed them over to the girl who took my booking. And so the girl in the booth telephoned just about everyone to see if I had left them and they had been handed in.

But no such luck. I’m hopeless when it comes to finding things as you know, and so I have to discipline myself to have a proper place for anything. And when they aren’t there I’m cooked.

But luckily I still have my powers of persuasion and I was eventually allowed to join the queue of vehicles heading for the ferry.

In the ferry office I hustled them there but it was to no avail, and so back outside I started to strip out Strider properly. My driving licence I can at a push live without, but my passport is something else and it must be found.

And then after about 30 minutes of sheer panic, the light suddenly went on. The little bag that I wear around my neck where I keep my bank cards and my North American money. Sure enough, in my haste, I’d stuffed them in there, hadn’t I?

So everything is now back in its proper place where it ought to be. I really ought to be much better organised than I am if I’m going to have a seamless, trouble-free trip around the world.

We were ushered onto the ferry comparatively early and we were lucky, being one of the first aboard.

I left His Nibs in charge of Strider and composing modern-day sea-shanties for the 21st Century.

I suppose that he has to keep himself entertained until we reach Newfoundland – he’ll have plenty to occupy his mind once he’s there.

The lift was occupied so I had to stagger up several flights of stairs – and steep they were too.

But I managed to grab a good spec on board – right at the bow of the ship with a stunning view out over the ferry terminal.

And next to one of the very few working power points on the ship too. Routine maintenance doesn’t seem to be the strongpoint of Marine Atlantic.

Much to my surprise, because I’m from Europe, we started up bang on the dot of 17:30

We reversed out and this gave an opportunity to have a good view over the town. Not that there’s a great deal of the town to see are there are vacant plots of land all over the place.

This isn’t just an indictment of the collapse of the town’s industry with the end of the mining and railway operations here, but also of the three devastating fires that have destroyed the town.

And we missed the oportunity to have our own ballet just offshore because we hadn’t gone more than 5 minutes out of harbour before we saw Highlanders coming down the inlet.

We know all about her because we’ve sailed on her before. She’s formerly the Stena Traveller and was likewise on the short-lived Hoek van Holland-Killingholme service.

It’s nice to see Marine Atlantic spending money on upgrading the fleet, and with the F A Gauthier in Matane replacing Camille Marcoux, that only leaves poor Apollo as a relic of a bygone age still struggling across the Gulf of St Lawrence.

But there’s plenty of shipping in the Gulf of St Lawrence.

With the telephoto lens on the new camera I can take pictures miles away but photographing through a double-glazed marine window with a telephoto lens from a moving platform such as a ship means that it’s always going to come out blurred.

But never mind. We’ll have better luck later.

As darkness fell we were treated to a folk singer.

Mike Averill, his name was, and he entertained us for quite a while with his acoustic guitar, his songs and his semi-biographical stories particularly about his father Garry.

And it’s a good job too because catering facilities on this ship are … errr … minimal. There’s an a la carte restaurant and some kind of fast-food place that does hot dogs and sandwiches, but that’s your lot.

There’s nothing here for me to eat, and so I have a feeling that this is going to be a very long voyage for me.

As soon as this folk-singer finishes, I’m going off to look for the reclining seats and bed myself down for the night. But not until he finishes because I’m enjoying his music.

Saturday 20th May 2017 – THIS WORLD …

… is becoming far too small for my liking.

This morning I met the previous tenant of this apartment. She lived here until March when she moved to an appartment at the front that has a sea view when it became available. And it turns ot that she formerly lived in Belgium and worked in the Fisheries Department of the EU and remembered me well enough to know my first name.

And regular readers of this rubbish will recall that someone from the EU followed me to live in Virlet. At least they are keeping tracks on me.

It was hard to leave my bed this morning. 20 minutes it took me to haul myself out (although I had been out of bed at about 06:00 but I wasn’t waking up then – ohhh no!) ready for breakfast. And once that was over, I had a little relax and then went off measuring up because I had forgotten to do that on Friday.

By 10:00 I was ready to leave, and this was when I bumped into my former colleague. 20-odd minutes we were chatting, although I do have to say that I didn’t say very much.

I found the dechetterie this morning, although I missed the turning and ended up going right around the houses. But now I know where it is and disposing of all of the cardboard was pretty straightforward. I’m sure Caliburn runs about 5mph faster now.

The dechetterie wasn’t all that I found either. I stumbled across a DiY place just down the road – one that I hadn’t noticed before. And I wish that I’d found it before last week because the stuff in there is a lot cheaper that the things that I bought last week. A set of reasonable screwdrivers cost me just €1:10, 13-amp plugs cost me €2:10 and a reasonable spirit level cost me €3:20.

And while I was there I couldn’t resist taking a photo of some more breath-taking parking. I really don’t understand why people are so selfish.

But it’s a sign of the times and you only have to read some of the comments on your social networking account to see just how much selfishness is prevalent in the modern Western world. It fills me full of dismay.

There’s a big Casino hypermarket on this industrial estate so I had a look in there. Stuff isn’t as cheap as in LeClerc but they had a couple of bits and pieces of household stuff that I needed. A trip to LeClerc was therefore in order. That’s much more like it.

I now have lace curtains in the window of my living room too. I went to Centrakor and found everything that I needed to hang them – and to hang the main curtains too. I don’t particularly like the lace curtains but there wasn’t anything in the way of choice and so beggars can’t be choosers. I was determined that, come what may, I would buy the main curtains too, but I didn’t like the look or colour of anything on offer there and so that was that. I wonder if I can find some on the internet.

Back here, I made my butties and went to sit on the headland in the glorious summer with my book. I was there for a good couple of hours and thoroughly enjoyed every minute of it, even though there were too many people walking along the pathway in front of me. I’ll have to try to find a quieter place next time.

This evening I went to the football. It’s US Granvillaise’s last match this season and they were at home to Bergerac Perigord. And I really am the kiss of death to whichever team I seem to support because they lost yet again. They went 2-0 down due to two goals in a minute – one of which was a magnificent powerful header from a corner – but pulled it back by scoring 2 goals in a minute themselves just before half-time.

Bergerac Perigord scored 2 more later in the game and the US Granvillaise keeper pulled off a couple of magnificent saves – and then US Granville pulled one back with just 5 minutes to go. That five minutes, plus a lengthy stoppage time, was the only time during the match that US Granvillaise played with any sense of urgency. But of course it was too little too late and that was that.

Cheerleaders seem to be the thing in Belgium for the half-time entertainment, but here today we had something different. A whole pile of young girls swarmed onto the pitch and performed a pile of gymnastic routines.

Not that I spent too much time watching because gymnastics is not really what I call entertainment. It’s a bit like ice-skating – it only becomes interesting when a competitor falls over or drops his partner, of the skater disappears into the water as the ice collapses underneath her.

But full marks for them for being out there anyway.

I’ll be off to bed in a minute. I want to have a good sleep because I’ve bought myself a new toy today – quite expensive but very cheap for what it is. And I need a full day or so to set it up.

Saturday 29th April 2017 – CALIBURN IS RUNNING MUCH BETTER …

… now that he’s empty. This morning I went up to the Place d’Armes and carried on emptying him of everything that was in there.

I’m not sure exactly how I managed to put some of the boxes into Caliburn, but I had a struggle to get them out and for three of them, I had to divide the load in half before I could move them up into the apartment.

But it’s all done now, Caliburn is empty and the apartment is full. It’s amazing just how much stuff was in there, and with all of that Caliburn was only half-full too.

And that’s not all of it that was in there either because there’s stuff in the bedroom and in the bathroom too.

What remains now is the difficult bit – to go off to IKEA and buy some furniture. I’ve seen what I want and so for the next week or two I’ll be selling my body around the streets of Granville.

I was awake early this morning – like 05:00 early. and couldn’t go back to sleep again. And so I was more than ready for breakfast. Afterwards I headed into Granville to do some shopping.

While I was driving down the hill, I noticed a place that gives music lessons, so I stopped there to see if anyone wanted a bass guitarist. I wasn’t surprised to receive a negative answer but at least I’m making myself known around the community and that’s the point.

There’s a football match this evening too – US Granville’s Ist XI at home to Vendée Fontenay Foot in the Championnat France Amateur and tickets were on sale in the Leclerc. I may as well go along and see what they are up to.

At lunchtime I stopped work and went with my butties to sit in the wind on top of the cliffs overlooking the bay.

I was disturbed by a loud-hailer out to sea and it turned out to be a cruise boat thing with loads of tourists being given a guided tour of the bay. Giving a guided tour to half of the Department as well judging by the volume of the boat’s PA system.

Mind you, he didn’t hang about long and disappeared back to where he came from on the other side of the headland. Which was just as well, because he was getting on my nerves and I hope that this isn’t a regular thing.

I carried on with the unloading and then crashed out for half an hour. and finished off the day by sitting quietly and reading a book. I reckon that I had deserved it.

The crowd at the football tonight was a bit dismal – just 560 people. and they missed an exciting match. US Granville went 1-0 up after about 10 minutes, and that after their keeper had pulled off two or three stunning saves (I’m quite impressed with this US Granville keeper).

But the goal was one of those that I have been predicting for years, as regular readers of this rubbish will remember. A back-pass to the keeper and instead of the keeper belting it upfield or out into touch, he hangs on to it and tries to be clever, with a couple of Granville forwards closing down on him. When he finally does decide to clear it, he miskicks and the ball hits a Granville forward in the stomach and bounces back into the net. And serve him right too.

The second goal that US Granville scored was a peach, and a candidate for “goal of the month” in any league you like. A ball won in the air by the big Granville centre forward who plays it out to the right winger (who was having a good game). He fizzes a cross along the ground right into the penalty area and a most audacious step-over from the centre-forward wrong-foots the entire Vendée Fontenay Foot defence. The left-winger running in from the far side has the simplest of tasks to side-foot the ball into the empty net.

So 2-0 up at half-time and going at a canter. I remember musing to myself “still 45 minutes to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory” – and how I was to come to regret those words.

As seems to be the usual procedure these days in French football, US Granville were so far ahead that they imagined that they had the game won already, and in the second half they had switched right off and Vendée Fontenay Foot were pushing forward.

A free kick about 25 yards out to Vendée Fontenay Foot and a magnificent curling shot around the wall found the net right by the near post. And about a minute later, a goalmouth scramble in the US Granville penalty area saw a foot prod the ball into the net through a crowd of players.

panic stations after that and Vendée Fontenay Foot could easily have scored a third – and a fourth – and would have done with some better luck too. But US Granville hung on and almost scored a winner themselves in the dying minutes. Nevertheless, I bet that they were glad that the final whistle went when it did.

As for the football, this is CFA – Championnat France Amateur, part-time players playing what is about Conference North or Conference South equivalent. And I do have to say that the standard is pretty good for all that. The US Granville keeper and their centre-half could easily slot into a League 2 side in the UK and I would sign the keeper in a heartbeat. He reads the game well, is a good shot-stopper and has good distribution skills.

On the way home I found a pizza van, and I still have some vegan cheese left. So that was tea organised. It was a good pizza too and the guy was quite garrulous.

So now it’s bed-time. My last night here and I can’t say that I’m too sorry. It was the cheapest place in Normandy and you can’t win a coconut every time.

Sunday 23rd April 2017 – THERE MUSTN’T BE …

… a single pie hut in the whole of Normandy, from what I can see. This afternoon I was down at the Stade de la Plage in Donville les Bains for their second team’s match against La Brehalaise’s first team, and there wasn’t one there either.

Unbelievable!

So falling asleep in the middle of yet another film last night, I was awake at 06:00, even though it was a Sunday. I’ve not had a Sunday lie-in for quite a while, have I?

But I did take it quite easy this morning and didn’t do all that much – just mooched about on the laptop and eventually I had a shower.

You’ll remember that I’d bought some bread yesterday, and so I made some butties, and then I headed off.

Near one of the camp sites that I looked at a while ago, there’s another pile of dunes with a beach beyond it.

Negotiating the vipers (because there are signs warning us that they are about) I climbed over the dunes and found myself a cosy little niche in between a couple of dunes, relatively-well protected out of the wind.

And here I had my lunch – the usual vegan cheese, tomato and lettuce sandwiches with that salad dressing that I bought the other day

There’s a beautiful view from here right down the beach, past that miserable building that I visited a few weeks ago, and down to Granville and the head of the promontory.

That’s a walled city by the way, up there on the promontory. The old town of Granville. And there are some barracks over there dating from the 16th or 17th Century, long-abandoned and now being converted into apartments.

That’s another place where I’ve tried to contact an estate agent but, as you might expect, no-one ever called me back.

There’s an even better view from here across the bay to the Iles de Chausey. And what I’ve done is to mess about with the colours and the contrast to enhance the differences in the topography, and you can see everything so much more clearly.

The islands are inhabited, as you can probably tell from the buildings that you can see out there. A couple of hundred, if that, in the winter, but several thousand in the summer when all of the grockles arrive.

A couple of sailings each day out there in the summer, but in the winter you are lucky if there are a couple each week.

Now when was the last time that we featured a “ship of the day” on here?

It’s quite a regular occurrence when we are in Canada or near a main shipping lane, but this is the first time that I’ve ever seen anything worth recording in the Bay of Mont St Michel.

No idea what it is, of course, but it’s an impressive sight all the same. I only hope that there are more of them as time goes by.

Anyway, that’s enough of the excitememnt for just now. It’s the time of the year when the tide is going out further and further, and this is the first time that I’ve been able to see the oyster beds as they emerge from the sea.

And people down there working on them too.

But don’t believe anything that anyone tells you about oysters. It’s a myth. I had 12 on my wedding night, but only 9 of them worked!

There’s a weird building here at the foot of the cliffs. It’s a block of apartments that dates probably from the 1980s or thereabouts and it looks as if they ran out of money before they had quite finished it.

There’s an apartment for sale in there, and I had a look at the photos in the estate agent’s window a couple of days ago. It’s quite cheap for what it is, and that’s what is worrying. I’ve heard about buildings like this all over the holiday resorts of France.

One advantage of the apartments though is that they overlook the Stade de la Plage, the home ground of the Union Sportive des Mouettes de Donville.

Today’s match is their Second XI against the First XI of La Brehalaise, whose Third XI we saw yesterday evening. It’s in the Second Division of the Manche District League so I’m rather hoping that it’s going to be better than what was served up last night

And indeed it was. La Brehalaise were much better than the Union Sportive des Mouettes de Donville – in fact it took the latter about 20 minutes to get out of their own half after the kick-off.

La Brehalaise won at a canter, 3-0, with a beautiful header from a corner that would have graced the televisions of the Premier League, a hopeful lob into the penalty area with the bounce and the wind deceiving the the Union Sportive des Mouettes de Donville goalkeeper, and a speculative shot from about 25 yards out that swerved into the corner of the net on a gust of wind.

There was a penalty awarded when the the Union Sportive des Mouettes de Donville goalkeeper tripped a la Brehalaise attacker who was clean through on goal. A red-card offence certainly, but the referee didn’t even brandish a yellow card, much to the astonishment of everyone in the crowd. And to run salt into the would, the keeper saved the penalty.

And, as I said, no pie-hut either!

After the game I headed back to the beach for an hour to sunbathe as it really was quite warm. And then back here for coffee and tea.

Now it’s an early night. I wonder what film I’ll fall asleep in the middle of tonight.

Saturday 22nd April 2017 – WORDS DON’T EXIST …

… in the dictionary to describe the football that was on offer this evening down the road in Brehal.

I had the choice to go and watch US Granville in action against Lorient II but decided to come here to arural football match as it’s bound to be more intimate.

However, we were a “crowd” – it that’s the correct term to use, of just four here in the stadium to watch La Brehalaise III tackle A.S. Montaigu Les Bois La Blouti in a match from the Manche League Division 4, and there is no Division lower than this.

I’d seen in the schedule of results that despite their mid-table position, La Brehalaise had demolished a couple of other teams, scoring 9 and 10 goals here and there.

But I wonder what on earth they must have been like, because I couldn’t find the words to describe the football here tonight.

Dreadful was something of an understatement. It was like watching kids in Junior school running around in the playground in some kind of aimless chase after the ball.

From the kickoff, Brehal had a shot on goal – quite a soft shot as it happened, but the A.S. Montaigu Les Bois La Blouti keeper failed to stop it going through his hands, failed to grab it as it rebounded (twice) off his body, missed it as he dived for the loose ball, and it was cleared away by his defenders.

That would have been the clue for the Brehal players to pepper the goal with shots from just about everywhere but for the next 85 minutes, they had just three shots, not one of which went anywhere near the goal.

They had a centre-forward who insisted on hanging onto the ball at every opportunity instead of passing, and I don’t know whether one of the wingers had stolen his wife or something, but whenever the winger worked his way into a good position to receive the ball, the centre-forward turned his back on him and looked in the opposite direction.

It was no surprise that at half-time, A.S. Montaigu Les Bois La Blouti went into the dressing room 2-0 up. I can’t remember the goals now but they were simple efforts that had come about by the defence of La Brehalaise falling asleep.

Now here’s a thing that you don’t see every day.

Each team has to supply its own linesman and A.S. Montaigu Les Bois La Blouti came with a female linesman, or lineswoman … "try “linesperson”" – ed.

But one thing that we didn’t have was a pie hut. How can you possibly have a French social occasion without a buvette? I shan’t be going there again!

The second half started off again and we were treated to a superb goal from A.S. Montaigu Les Bois La Blouti. A free kick right around the defensive wall and despite a magnificent dive from the keeper, there we were.

After that, A.S. Montaigu Les Bois La Blouti seemed to switch off and they almost came undone because in the dying minutes of the game we had two breakaways upfield from La Brehalaise and they scored two goals from one-on-ones with the A.S. Montaigu Les Bois La Blouti keeper.

How things could have been different if they had attacked the goal from the start.

As for my start, it was another early one. 06:00 in fact. And after breakfast I cracked on with more stuff that needed doing.

That took me up until midday or so when I headed to Granville and the LeClerc for a pile of shopping, and the boulangerie over the road for bread for the weekend.

Once I’d bought what I needed, I headed for the seaside. Today was Coudeville-Plage, just down the road at Coudeville-sur-Mer, which is another one of those “sur mer” towns stranded a couple of miles from the sea due to the silting up of the coast.

The weather had changed today too. It was rather cloudy and overcast – nothing like the beautiful week that we had just had since I’ve been back.

I could sit and eat my butty on a bench situated on top of a dune and I was quite comfortable here. There wasn’t as much wind about as over the last couple of days.

There was a good view of Granville away over there in ste distance, and you can see that dismal building at Donville les Bains where I went to see that dreadful studio.

You might have forgotten about that one – after all, I have seen so many ruins – but I haven’t.

Right in front of me, away in the distance were the Iles de Chausey – an archipelago of which there are more at low tide than at high tide. Closely related to the Channel Islands further up, they were kept out of English hands by having been given to the monks of Mont St Michel in 1022, prior to the Norman conquest of England.

While I was busy admiring the view, Liz and Terry turned up and we went for a walk and a coffee (or two) along the promenade and watched all the people. The weather cleared up a little too, which was nice.

When I returned to Caliburn I had quite a surprise.

Someone had left a note on the windscreen wanting to talk about wind turbines. So I now have an appointment for Monday. As I have said before … "and you will say again" – ed … this vehicle advertising really works.

But despite my carping about the standard of play at the football this evening, I am the first to be aware that I have had a free evening’s entertainment thanks to the players and officials who turned out for the match, and I am very grateful.

Saturday 8th April 2017 – WELL, THAT WAS ANOTHER …

… total, complete and utter waste of time.

I could smell the rising damp from outside the front door. And I wasn’t wrong either. I shan’t go on (and on and on) about the place to spare you all the unpleasant details, but I’ve come to the conclusion that the average standard of living of people here in Normandy is to bed down with the cattle.

It’s a shame really though because the village of Genets itself is quite pretty. And not only that, there’s a most spectacular view of Mont St Michel from the car park across the road.

Nerina and I went there almost 30 years ago for a good wander around and it’s always inspired me. And what is more, it’s possible to walk across the sands from here to the Mont when tidal conditions are right, and there was in fact a party setting out while I was there.

Regular bus services to the railway station at Avranches too, but unfortunately I won’t be on them.

I headed back to Granville and went to do some shopping.

Having enquired of the BIOCOOP before I came down here about vegan cheese and been told in the affirmative, I headed in that direction to stock up. But having spent a fruitless 20 minutes looking, I enquired of a member of staff, only to be told “ohh, we don’t have that”.

That’s no good.

And so I went up to LeClerc and bought a few bits and pieces there to stock up for the next few days and to take with me on the train. And that reminded me – my Senior Citizens railcard – it needs a photograph, and there’s a photograph booth there.

Another thing was that the place was advertising tickets for this evening’s football match – US Granville v Rennes II in CFA Nord – the equivalent of the Nationwide North League in the UK. Cost all of €5:00, and I reckoned that buying now would save queueing at the ground.

While I was out looking at that wretched apartment at Donville-les-Bains the other day I had noticed the gorgeous beach there. And so that was where I headed for lunch.

A pot of hummus from LeClerc (and that took some finding) and a nut loaf to dip into it, and some fruit and soft drink – and there I was, sitting in the gorgeous sun with my book.

I dozed off for half an hour too,and who can blame me? But I do feel a bit of a fool. I have two sun-lounging reclining chairs as well as a fold-up portable chair, and where are they? That’s right. Bane of Britain has left them back at the Auvergne.

At about 16:00 I headed back to my little studio for an hour or so and a coffee, and I was lucky with a parking place. Just as I arrived, someone was trying to pull out into the traffic and so I stopped to let him out, and then quickly reversed in.

I was glad that at LeClerc I had bought a ticket for the match, because there was something of a queue. I had no problem entering the ground.

The stadium is pretty similar to that at St Eloy-les-Mines, but it looks as if at one time it had a dog track around the outside. There’s even the channel where the electric hare (an “external” hare) would have run.

But I was thinking, like I do on special occasions – what a superb speedway track this would make. France was never very big in speedway but this place would be ideal.

As for the match itself, it wasn’t too bad. Had Granville won, and both Chlet and Bergerac failed to win, then Granville would have gone top.

Cholet lost and Bergerac could only draw, but US Granville lost too – and so it’s Rennes who are king of the heap right now. Final kick of the game – right between the keeper’s legs.

But it was played at a pace and both of the keepers had their work cut out. US Granville missed a sitter straight from the kick-off and a Rennes forward kicked the ball over the bar, totally unmarked, from 6 yards out.

But there were a couple of “incidents”. There was a bad tackle after about 65 minutes which resulted in a red card for a US Granville defender, but it wasn’t a “violent” tackle in my book and I would have only given a yellow card for the offence.

And then a few minutes later, we had another reckless tackle (well worth a yellow card to a Rennes defender) but a US Granville player decided that he would intervene. A Rennes player pushed him away and the US Granville player went down as if he had been hit by a nuclear missile, holding his face although the push had been to his shoulder.

The referee sent off the Rennes player, and I do have to say that if referees sent off everyone who had pushed an opponent in the middle of a mêlee we’d be playing matches with no-one on the pitch. A yellow card, very likely, but also a yellow card for “unsportsmanlike conduct” to the Granville player is what I would have given. It really was shameful.

Anyway, I headed home and ended up having a late night, what with one thing or another. But no matter.It’s Sunday tomorrow and I’m having a lie-in.

Saturday 1st April 2017 – CALL THAT A …

… Division d’Honneur match?

I’ve seen more exciting and more competent teams playing down in Division 2 of the Puy-de-Dôme League than what was served up here at Granville tonight.

La Patriote ST Jamaise were pretty miserable – another team that spent far too long hanging on to the ball instead of playing it out wide or over the top. But as for US Granville, they have to be one of the worst teams that I have seen. Far and away the worst at this level.

They had a red-headed guy playing right-back who was thoroughly, totally and completely useless. He was substituted after 30 minutes and judging by his contributions up to that point, he was on the pitch for 30 minutes too long.

But the centre-forward – a big bulky 20-stone guy that would make Akinfenwa look like a lightweight – I’ve never seen anything like it. He was easily the worst player that I’ve seen on a pitch in a competitive match. He didn’t run after the ball – just a leisurely saunter around when he could be bothered to move – and never looked as if he was going to do anything at all. US Granville could have played without him and no-one would have noticed the difference. Xavier, who used to play up front for Pionsat’s 3rd XI will be the first to admit that he was playing up front to enjoy himself rather than in respect of demonstrating any skill, but I would have had him on the field leading the attack any day of the week rather than this guy.

It goes without saying that, being the worst team that I have ever seen, Granville were 2-1 up at half-time. Two free kicks, two shots at goal, 2 goals. But honours were restored in the second half as La Patriote ST Jamaise scored two more goals – one from a dreadful defensive howler where they all stood around waiting for the keeper to come halfway up field to head a ball away. I hardly need to mention that he headed it just as far as a La Patriote ST Jamaise attacker who calmly lobbed it over his head into the net. And the winning goal was … well … I estimated about three yards offside from my perfect position in line with play.

But US Granville can’t complain. They were dreadful.

I’d had a much better sleep today and a steadier start to the day. With a few things to do (loads of files to update) and then I went for a walk around the market. Nothing of interest unfortunately, and the prices are, well, not what I’m accustomed to paying.

But going for a walk to buy bread, I found a notaire with a few letting properties in the window. One looks quite suitable so I have an appointment to see that on Wednesday.

This afternoon I was chatting to a few people on the internet and then Caliburn and I went off to LeClerc for a look around. Strawberries at €0:90 for 500 grammes and cheap soya cream too – that will make for some exciting puddings for the next few days.

There’s an electromenager bit there too and prices seem to be reasonable. That’s one-up on Montlucon.

Afterwards, I headed for the footy and then came back here for tea.

It’s a late night but it’s Sunday tomorrow so no alarm. Let’s see how well I can sleep.

Saturday 25th March 2017 – I’VE JUST SEEN …

… the most extraordinary football match.

Puy-de-Dome League Division 4 and two teams – St Gervais d’Auvergne III at home to Charbonnières II. Charbonnières were streets better than St Gervais – they missed a sitter almost from the kick-off but took the lead after about 5 minutes with a soft goal through the St Gervais keeper’s legs.

All one-way traffic it was with Charbonnières making it look so easy, and only some last-ditch outstretched feet and some astonishing saves by the St Gervais keeper who, I reckoned, knew absolutely nothing about any of them, just being in the right place at the right time and diving the right way, prevented Charbonnières from running riot.

But it was all too easy for Charbonnières and after about half an hour they eased off for some reason or other, and I don’t know why. And then the inevitable happened. A harmless cross into the penalty area, the Charbonnières keeper palmed it away, the loose ball hit one of his own defenders on the back and rolled across the line into the net.

Stunned silence from the crowd.

In the second half, Charbonnières struggled to get going. St Gervais were quite awful but they were slowly growing in confidence, with the opponents becoming more and more frustrated.

And then it happened.

A cross from the wing into the centre of the field, a St Gervais player hitting it on the half volley, and there we were, a most unlikely 2-1 for St Gervais.

Even more unlikely was that St Gervais scored a third just minutes later!

As the game progressed, Charbonnières finally awoke and went back on the rampage, with some more outstretched feet and some very fortunate goalkeeping keeping them out. But they did pull one back from a free kick with just minutes to go.

In the final minute or so Charbonnières threw everything, including the kitchen sink, at the St Gervais defence, and then we had a wild clearance out of the defence. The Charbonnières defenders had the idea of stepping up three paces to catch the St Gervais attacker offside.

But ohhh woe! Woe!

They were in the St Gervais half, and an attacker can’t be offside if he’s in his own half. The attacker picked up the ball, advanced totally unopposed on the Charbonnières goal and slotted the ball underneath the isolated keeper. 4-2.

And that was that. And the crowd are still shaking their heads even now.

The second match was between the St Gervais Second team and the First XI of Charbonnières, and this was much more evenly matched. Charbonnières took the lead with a good header, and as the game wound down towards the end, they slowed down the game. But two dramatic late goals from St Gervais turned the match around and Charbonnières then tried to speed up the game. But they couldn’t come back.

We had a few little niggles but all-in-all it was a good game.

But I’ll tell you something. I complained the other day about the lack of solidarity that I have received from most of my “friends” in the Auvergne. Today, there were several people whom I knew from Pionsat’s football team and while they all said “hello”, not one of them came to sit with me for a little chat, even though it’s been 18 months or so since I was last at a match and they all know about my health issues.

I’m really disappointed about that.

So last night was another bad night for me – awake in the middle of the night and then wide awake definitively at about 05:45. Up here in the attic (with a fire burning) long before the alarm.

After a brief rest I took a pile of boxes downstairs to Caliburn and loaded him up, and also put in some stuff from the verandah. Then I nipped off to the Intermarche at Pionsat for some bread and so on.

I didn’t do much when I returned, and after lunch I crashed out for an hour or so.

But before going to the football I removed almost all of the boxes from the attic and put them in Caliburn. That was heavy work and exhausted me completely. There’s still stuff to pack up here, but that’s Tuesday morning’s job.

And now I’m back from the footy I’m going to be doing the washing-up and then going to bed.

Sunday is a day of rest, but I bet that it won’t be.

Sunday 19th March 2017 -THAT WAS SOMETHING …

… of a disturbed night’s sleep what with the livestock in the roof. And there I was, thinking along the lines of Marshall Matt Dillon from Gunsmoke, and “Sunday is the one day of the week a man can get up at noon and sit around with his boots off without anybody hollering at him about it”. First Sunday for almost 18 months that I hadn’t set an alarm, and there I was, wide awake and up and about at 07:30 in the morning. I’m hoping that this isn’t going to be a regular occurrence.

After breakfast, morning was quite steady – at first – and then round about 10:00 I sprung into action. By 12:00, everything not needed in the back of Caliburn had been taken out, and all of the food, clothing and other items that will be accompanying me on the next stage of my journey – because there is going to be a next stage on my journey – were all arranged neatly inside. It’s amazing, all of the space, once I managed to sort it out. And I counted almost 30 of those black plastic crates that I had systematically looted and pillaged from the rubbish bin at the supermarket in Leuven.

After all of that, I needed a sit-down. And having relaxed, made some butties and set off for the football. None at Pionsat of course, but there was a double-header at Le Quartier. Mind you, their ground was deserted at 13:00 so I went for a drive down to St Gervais d’Auvergne. Nothing going on there either so I had my butties by the lake.

Back at Le Quarter at 15:00 for the second match, but there was sill no-one there so I nipped up to Pionsat to see what was happening. Apart from a new Salle de Fêtes being built on the site of the old Maison Ducros- Maymat there was nothing going on there either.

And so back here, I checked on the internet and it seems that I have the dates incorrect. No matches this weekend – it’s next weekend when it’s all happening. D’ohhhh!

And so I made up my bed in the bedroom. even if it’s colder down there in the bedroom, I’ll snuggle up under the quilt and sleep in the quiet and in the comfort tonight. I deserve that at least. And while I was in there I began to pack away some clothes too. No time like the present.

Tea was a vegetable chili and rice, and now it’s bedtime. I’m hoping for a better night than last night.

Sunday 26th February 2017 – IT WAS HARD THIS MORNING …

… to get out of bed, what with my very late finish and my usual early (like 07:00) start – how my habits have changed since I’ve been living in digs.

I was alone at breakfast too, which is just as well because as you all know, I don’t do “company” first thing in the morning. Anyone who tries to chat to me just receives a collection of unintelligible grunts in reply.

Back down here, I had a brief (and only a brief) relax while I drank my coffee, and then I set to work.

And by 10:00 I had another couple of bags packed to take down to Caliburn. Now my room is looking much more like TS Eliot’s Wasteland..

Having done all of that, I came back and had a shower, and the last of my clean clothes (in fact, I didn’t have a clean T-shirt). So this obviously meant a visit to the launderette in the Ridderstraat. There were so many clothes that some of them didn’t make it into the machine and so they will have to go into the next load, whenever that might be. I’ve clearly not been keeping on top of things like I should and I’ll have to organise myself much more than this.

Once all of that was done, it was lunchtime. I had a packet onion soup hanging around and two of these half-cooked half-baguettes. One of those was for my garlic bread tonight, and so I cooked them both and had the other one with my soup. Followed, of course, by some fruit.

Plenty of time left yet, and so I loaded up another big pile of stuff, and by 15:00 I was ready to hit the streets. I dropped off everything at Caliburn yet again, and then carried on my little walk

Today is the last match of the regular season for OH Leuven. Long-since condemned to a place in the relegation play-offs with no escape, due to a few insipid results, they were playing for pride.

Union St Gilles are a couple of places above them and if other results go their way, a victory for them could haul themselves out of the relegation dog-fight and into safety. It’s therefore vital for Union St Gilles to win today

All of the matches in the Second Division are kicking off simultaneously at 16:00 this afternoon so that no-one can be assured of their place until the final whistle.

It seems that this mascot craze is spreading to all football clubs in Belgium right now. OH Leuven looks as if they have managed to acquire one too.

Somehow I thought it appropriate to take a photograph of him behind a sturdy wire-mesh fence – almost as if he was in a cage.

But never mind acquiring mascots – when is the club going to acquire some cheerleaders? That’s what I want to know.

The “away” end was heaving with fans. So packed out wasit in there that they had to open a second bay behind the goal. They were a noisy lot too, and kept the noise going for the whole 90 minutes more or less.

There was a huge crowd in here for the match too (for Leuven, that is). 4,263 spectators and that’s the largest crowd that I’ve witnessed for a match here at the Den Dreef Stadion, and it’s not ALL accounted for by the huge away support. Everyone else must feel the urgency too.

As the teams took to the field the away fans started some kind of synchronised sign-boarding display. I’ve absolutely no idea what it was supposed to signify, but they were clearly quite happy to do it.

But anyway, the teams took to the field with OH leuven in their usual all-white strip, and Union St Gilles in their usual yellow shirts and blue shorts.

And as the match kicked off, the first question that I asked myself was “how much longer can they keep on going at this pace?” because they shot off like rockets.

And one thing that I’ve noticed about Belgian Second Division football is that wingers are very popular. We know all about the wingers that OH Leuven have, and Union St Gilles were well-supplied too.

The big difference today though is that OH Leuven had Casagolda up front instead of Kostovski. Casagolda is technically a far better player, but he has his “days”. Kostovski is like a big battering ram, a bit short on technical skill but plays at 100% for every match and the kind of player I would like to have up front when the team has two wingers.

But as I said, Casagolda has his “days”, and luckily enough, today was one of them, even putting in a ferocious performance in the centre of defence at set pieces, and this made a great deal of difference.

As the game progressed, despite the barrage of noise from the Union St Gilles supporters, it was clear that OH Leuven had the “up”, not that it means very much in football because I’ve seen superior teams well on top in a game be undone by one single moment of magic, and OH Leuven can have some notoriously fragile moments. And when they missed a penalty, I really did fear the worst.

In the first half, they had hit the post twice, had about four shots on goal kicked off the line, and the keeper had made two outstanding saves. And much to my surprise, they were 2-0 up too. Both of them breakaways from out of defence, wingers racing off down the field, and crosses into the centre. And Casagolda had scored one of them.

As for Union St Gilles, they pressed well down the flanks and their n°20, Aguemon, particularly impressed me. But their problem was that they lacked a centre-forward who would throw himself about in where it hurts – someone like Kostovski for example.

I reckoned that whoever scored the first goal in the second half would decide where this match was going to end, but the players, clearly exhausted, played at a much slower tempo. Storm, this new winger that they had signed who had such a good game the last time that I saw him, he fell away quite rapidly – clearly not match-fit for this level – and I reckoned that he’d be one of the first to leave the field – which he was.

Casagolda had the ball in the net, sure enough, but was given offside – a decision with which I agreed, by the way – and the Union St Gilles keeper made a couple of other full-length saves to keep the ball out.

But Union St Gilles couldn’t find a way back into the game, even though this new keeper, Henkinet, made a brilliant one-handed save from a point-blank header that had “goal” written all over it.

And that was that – a huge sigh of relief at the final whistle as Leuven finally register a win. And if only they had played like this in a couple of other matches, they wouldn’t have to be pitting their wits against clubs like Dessel Sports and Deinze in the relegation play-offs. In fact, either of these clubs could have taken on KSC Lokeren and KAS Eupen from last night in the Premier League and disposed of them quite comfortably

On the way back I found a new short-cut that I hadn’t seen before. It wasn’t that short, in fact, but it was certainly a prettier way to come home.

This by the way isn’t a medieval building, but it’s fairly modern and is actually a hotel, the Begijnhof Leuven Hotel. And if modern architects in Belgium can come up with buildings like this, then there’s no reason whatever why they can’t do this anywhere else either.

I’m going to make further enquiries …

Back here, I hadn’t been sitting down long before I was overwhelmed with hunger. It might have been only 19:00, long before tea-time, but nevertheless there was nothing for it – I went and made my pizza. And for once, everything was cooked perfectly and it was thoroughly delicious.

Now, it’s 21:00 or so and I can’t keep my eyes open. I have a lot to do over the course of the next few days, so I’m planning on going to bed.

Saturday 25th February 2017 – IT’S THE START …

… of the Krokusvakantie here in Belgium this week. That’s the school half-term, and while it might be known as “Carnaval” in the French-speaking areas of the country, you can see why it has its name around here in Flanders, can’t you?

On my travels and I had a walk back from Caliburn through the Kruidtuin – the Botanical Gardens here in Leuven and the flowers are well and truly blooming today, aren’t they?

If you ask me what kind of flowers they are, I would say that they were mauve ones, because I know nothing whatever abut flowers, so they might not even be crocuses at all, but whatever they are, they are quite prettu.

So what was I doing at Caliburn then? And not once today but twice too.

In fact, I’ve made a start on emptying my room out reading for (hopefully) leaving on Tuesday if all goes according to plan.

But first surprise of the day was that the crane on the corner of the Brusselsestraat and the Kruisstraat has now disappeared. Work seems to have finished on the facade of the building across the road.

And what a good job they seem to have made of it too. I imagine that they’ve re-pointed the brickwork and sealed the joints underneath the roof, and now they’ve added some tiles to the wall to weatherproof it.

All in all, it loks very impressive from here

And so after yet another bad night, I was once more alone at breakfast (which suite me fine) although my garrulous Dutch/Russian friend did stick his head around the corner to make himself a coffee – I really am not up to social conversation at 07:00.

But after a relax downstairs in my room, I set to work.

It was a case of going through everything that I have here and deciding upon its priority – am I likely to be using it between now and a week on Tuesday (and there are reasons for this particular date)? And if not, I started to load it up into a couple of IKEA bags that I had lying around. That includes most of the food for a start – no reason for most of that to be hanging around for a start. And books, and bottles of pop and the like. I remember thinking when I was in Sedan back in November that I would buy just enough stuff for the first month of my stay. Here I am, three months in, and I haven’t eaten half of it.

Once I was loaded up, I set off to Caliburn to deposit it all, and then down to the Carfefour by the football ground for the stuff for pizza night tomorrow.

A little deviation (and I’m always up for a little deviation as you know) through the Kruidtuin to see the crocuses and then back here, via the Supermarket on the corner. And there’s a thing – there were plenty of black plastic boxes of the sort that I had been liberating, but all stacked up neatly at the back of the warehouse. My response is that if they don’t want people to liberate them, they shouldn’t leave them outside by the bins.

After lunch, we had another session of loading up the IKEA bags, and then after a brief pause I went back down to Caliburn with the stuff and deposited it there.

While I had been having a relax just now, I was idly scanning the internet. And something that I saw gave me an idea – I have plenty of ideas, don’t I? Furthermore, a little research on the internet proved that it was a feasible proposition too. Thus I had a quick coffee, and hit the streets.

Here I am, at the Antwerp Berchem railway station on the south side of the city, waiting for the train to Gent and Oostende which is just a-cumen in.

But I’m not going to either of these places.

Somewhere just after St Niklaas is the small town of Lokeren. It’s a place that I’ve never ever visited before and seeing as how I’m hoping to be on my way in early course, now seemed to be the right kind of time to deal with that issue

No derailments today – we were in luck – but we had to take a different track out of the station. My luck was in, for this one took us close to the carriage sidings and I had a good view of something that had caught my eye away in the distance on several occasions.

It’s actually a very sorry example of the first-generation Continental multiple units, one of the ones that you used to see painted red and cream that used to wander over the French SNCF and presumably Belgian SNCB rail networks in the &950s

Mind you, this is just one of the driving carriages of a multiple unit set and it has long-since lost the colours that it might have carried on the SNCB. But it’s beautiful all the same and I wonder what it’s doing here.

And more to the point, why no-one has seen fit to rescue it. I’d take it home with me in a heartbeat.

No prizes for guessing why I’ve come to Lokeren, is there?

I owe myself a football match from last weekend, what with the train derailment in Leuven, this match is a Belgian Jupiler Pro League (the equivalent of a Premier League match).

I’ve never been to Lokeren, never seen either of the clubs play, and KAS Eupen was on of the teams on my list of clubs to see

The ground is only a 20-minute walk from the railway station, and that means that if I exert myself and the game finishes on time, I could catch the 22:17 to St Niklaas, change for a train to Mechelen, and then catch a train from there to Brussels and then on to Leuven.

If I missed it, there is a train at 23:11 in the other direction to Gent St Pieters and then the last train from there to Leuven, getting me back to the railway station at Leuven at about 01:00.

That sounded like a plan.

I found the Daknamstadion easily enough – it was quite straightforward, rather like the walk that we have made so often to het Lisp at Lier. And the stadium resembled that at Lier too. They must order them off the peg or something like that, I reckon.

I had a cheap seat (€18:00 for a Premier League match) behind the goal, but in a corner where I wouldn’t be hemmed in by chanting supporters.

But they were up at the far end in the standing bit, with the away supporters right next to them. That’s bizarre crowd segregation, I can say.

But … tragedy! We had the mascot, not that he was up to very much of course, but there were no cheerleaders!

All this way on the train and not a single cheerleader to be seen anywhere. how disappointing is that? I had a good mind to go and ask for my money back.

But at least it’s a Premier League match, so entertainment and excitement was sure to be guaranteed, wasn’t it?

But right from the kick-off, I could tell that this match was going to be something completely different.

Because if ever there are two more inept teams as these playing anywhere in the top flight of any football league anywhere else in the world (and I include Rockall and the Lofoten Islands in this) I just wouldn’t believe it.

These two teams were totally clueless from start to finish, and I mean every word of that. If this was a Premier League match, then God help them all

KAS eupen had a player sent off after about 20 minutes – what for, I couldn’t really see. And KSC Lokeren scored a penalty during the match – a rather strict penalty if you ask me.

But KAS Eupen scored two goals, even being 1 man down. And that’s not an idication of how good they were, it’s an indication of how totally inept KSC Lokeren were.

KAS Eupen’s two goals were a breakaway down the wing, a cross into the centre and a rather hopeful volley from about 20 yards out, and a ricochet off the referee that dropped nicely for an Eupen player to hoist over the wall into space where there was a team-mate running on
.

KAS Eupen hit the post too, and their keeper made five or six magnificent saves too.

In fact, the KAS Eupen keeper, Hendrik Van Crombrugge, was by far and away the best player on the pitch. The KSC Lokeren n°14, Mehdi Terki, had a good game, but I wouldn’t have given you twopence for the remainder.

And if you want to see the … errr … highlights of the match, they are now on-line. But it beats me how they managed to find 8 minutes of them. I’m on the far right of the screen at 04:34 – in the bright yellow coat.

Despite the late start ond the 4 minutes of injury time, I put on such a turn of speed that not only was I comortably in time for the 22:17, the earlier 22:11 for Gent St Pieters. I hopped on board – and wasn’t that a fatal mistake?

Yes, everyone would expect that with almost all trains running at one-hour intervals, then all trains would run at one-hour intervals. That is almost true, and the only exception is the express train from Oostende across to Welkenraedt (that goes through Leuven), and that runs at 90-minute intervals. And so the train that I had caught arrived in Gent 20 minutes after the previous one had left, and the next one was the one that I would have caught had I come here on the 23:11 from Lokeren. In other words, being early at Lokeren station had made me as late as it is possible to be.

So here I was in Gent, stranded yet again with well over an hour to wait for the train. At least it gave me an opportunity to go for a stroll around in the late evening.

The station really does look magnificent in the urban light, like most of these beautiful Victorian piles, except that it isn’t a Victorian pile. The railway station that was here was nothing spectacular, apparently, but when they announced that they would be holding the 1913 World’s Fair here, they designed and built a railway station building to suit the aims and the ambitions of the Fair

The interior is fairly spectacular, had it been allowed to settle in its own surroundings, but it was partitioned off into shops, full of coin machines and people sleeping all over the place. I was rather disappointed.

I sat there with the bag of fritjes that I had bought from the fritkot across the square until my train arrived.

It was almost 01:00 when I arrived at the station here, and about 01:45 when I returned here. Cold, tired and exhausted.

I went straight to bed, and straight to sleep too. It was late.

Saturday 18th February 2017 – YOU’RE LUCKY …

… that you are reading this today. Had I been more organised and more patient, I would possibly not have been here to write it.

Just for a change, I had a good night’s sleep last night. Asleep reasonably early – woke up just once to switch off the laptop, and slept right through until the alarm at 07:00. With it being weekend, there are no workmen about at ridiculous hours of the morning.

I had company at breakfast – a new arrival in the building, and that meant that my Russian friend (he’s not actually Russian, he’s Dutch who lives in Russia with a Russian wife) had someone else to talk to at breakfast so I could be my usual quiet self.

Back down here, I had a play around with my 3D program, something that I haven’t done for quite a while. And then I had a good wash and scrub to get myself clean ready for my day out.

OH Leuven are playing at Brugge to day against Cercle Brugge. This is an important match as Cercle Brugge are 3rd bottom and OH Leuven are second-bottom. OH Leuven must win this to avoid relegation – a spectre that has been staring them in the face for a good few weeks.

Not only that, I’ve never been to Cercle Brugge’s ground. It’s a hell of a long walk away from the station – the second-longest after Royal Antwerp – so I needed to be on form.

With the beautiful weather, I walked up to the station and bought my ticket for the train. And then I was presented with a conundrum. There was a choice of two trains – one at 13:19 which is a stopping train, and one at 13:34 which is an express and actually arrived first.

So having had nothing to eat for lunch, I decided on the second train and went to the bakery in the basement to buy some bread and coffee to eat on the train.

Back on the platform with my lunch, my train pulled in and I clambered aboard. And then we waited. And waited. eventually we were all asked to alight as the train would not be leaving – there was an “obstruction on the line”.

I blagged my way onto an Antwerp train where I could change for Brugge. But then, that wasn’t leaving either, even though it takes a different line out of the city.

Eventually, they closed the station, saying that no trains would be leaving for the rest of the day. A fleet of buses was laid on to take everyone to Brussels-Nord railway station where they could catch a train and continue their journeys but it was pointless for me. I’d never make it to Brugge for the match so I walked home.

Back here, I found out the reason why everything had gone to pot. A train had left Leuven station and had derailed itself, falling off the rails at the points, fallen over onto its side, and there had been deaths and injuries.

Further enquiries revealed that it was the 13:19 to De Panne – the train that I would have caught had I not gone downstairs to buy some bread and coffee.

This reminds me of that famous incident many years ago when someone said that some woman “had been badly injured in a rail accident but had survived, and all of her friends expressed their regret”.

Yes, looks as if I have had a narrow escape.

Back here, I crashed out for a while and then watched some football on the internet. I even missed my afternoon coffee due to sleep issues.

For tea tonight I had pizza and garlic bread. I’m out tomorrow evening so I reckoned that I would catch it today. And my garrulous Russian friend was up there making his tea. He wanted to chat. And I’m sure that someone else has been nibbling away at my pineapples and ice cream.

Another early night and a good clean up tomorrow, as I’m out with Alison. I’ll need all of my strength.

Saturday 12th February 2017 – THEY’VE DONE IT AGAIN!

Regular readers of this rubbish will recall that 5 weeks ago we went off to Lier to watch Lommel United play. And despite how well Lommel played, they conceded five really extraordinary and unlucky goals.

Today, OH Leuven were at home, and playing Lommel United. This is a real bottom-of-the-table clash which was a really important match for OH Leuven to win if they are to put any distance between themselves and the bottom of the table.

And it all started to go wrong for OH Leuven on the tenth minute. A corner put high into the OH Leuven penalty area, a Lommel United player falls to the floor, and the referee blows for a penalty. It was down at the far end of the field through the gloom and the mist of the evening (it was quite foggy again) and I couldn’t see what happened so I’ve no idea whether or not I agreed with the decision. Not that it made any difference because the decision was made, and a goal was scored.

So OH leuven had fallen behind in this important match, but it didn’t matter because sure enough, Lommel United’s self-destruct button went off again. On the attack down the centre of the field about 25 yards out, the OH Leuven n°31 Storm had a shot on goal. It was covered by the goalkeeper but the ball hit one of his own players on the back, looped up into the air, and dropped right into the opposite corner of the net.

If this wasn’t bad enough, 10 minutes later was even worse. With the Lommel United defence in something of a panic, the OH Leuven right winger broke down to the touch-line and drove a hard cross low into the penalty area. A Lommel United player stuck out a foot to stop the ball, and diverted it straight into his own net.

And that was that!

Last night was the worst night yet. I was still wide awake at 03:30, totally unable to go off to sleep. At some point I did manage to drop off to sleep, and struggled upstairs to breakfast at 07:00. I didn’t eat much of it. One of my two rounds of toast and more than half of my muesli ended up in the bin, and that’s a rare event isn’t it?

Back down here afterwards, I set the alarm for 11:00 and went back to bed and sleep. However, by 09:30 I was back awake again and I can get on and do stuff.

Not for long though. Alison sent me a text message, to say that she was in a café in town. Would I like to join her?

It was just as well that I’d had a good wash earlier this morning so it didn’t take me long to be on my way. Given the snow and the freezing cold outside, I put on two pairs of trousers. You remember that I have an over-size pair that I brought back from Canada. I couldn’t remember why I had this pair, but it all became clear the other week when I went off to Lier in minus 4°C or whatever it was.

Alison and I had a good chat over coffee, and then went round the corner to the fritkot for lunch. I had a falafel wrap which was more than enough, despite the fact that I hadn’t eaten very much at all for breakfast.

We went for a walk around the shops afterwards, and then back to another café to warm ourselves after the walk because it really was freezing outside. Alison then went off for her bus, and I took a walk down the Naamsestraat towards the football ground.

I was waylaid on several occasions down the street

There was an archway kind of thing on the right-hand side of the street that led into a courtyard. I hadn’t noticed this place before and seeing as there was no-one about and no “private property” notice, I went in there for a butcher’s.

Down at the far end of the courtyard was a low wall and so I nipped down there to peer over the top to see what I could see. The Naamsestraat up to this point was something of a climb, and the street then descended towards the football ground.

At this point, possibly the highest point in the street, there seems to be something of a scarp slope down to the River Dijle, and you can see right across the valley to the block of flats that are in the distance, at the end of the Kapucijnenvoer.

or, at least, you could, if the weather had been better

Had I been some kind of Lord or nobleman during the Iron Age or the early Medieval period, this is just the kind of place where I would have wanted to erect my fortress.

These natural defences (the scarp slope and the ascents up the main street in both directions) would be very useful and save me a lot of work when it came to building my fortifications. It’s very hard for a marauding army to charge uphill and even a few simple defences could bring it to a halt.

The presence of some kind of stately mansion such as this (I wasn’t able to find out what it might have been) is some kind of indication that an important family has lived here for a while.

Even if it was formerly some kind of religious institution, the land would inevitable have been donated by someone important. And it’s quite a usual procedure, as we have mentioned many times in the past, for a small chapel attached to an early fortress to eventually increase in size and importance and over-grow the medieval defences as the need for religion increased and the need for defence diminished.

That’s why it’s quite common to find large churches built on what look like some very impressive castle mounds

The gardens of the big building were landscaped and looked really nice, but there was no indication as to whether this was a public park or not.

Had the weather been nice and had I not been in something of a rush, I might have been tempted to go for a wander around. But the football was beckoning and so I didn’t want to hang about too long.

Besides, I was freezing to death standing here and it wasn’t very pleasant to hand around and take photos. I’ll end up with frostbite or something

There’s a music shop close by, so I went for an explore. Unfortunately, although there was a reasonable stock on display, it was all mainstream equipment with nothing particular that caught my eye.

Now this is how to enjoy yourself at a football match. Here they are, munching on a huge hamburger and clutching a tray of six beer glasses. It doesn’t get any better than this, does it?

When I took up my seat at the ground, there was almost nobody in the stadium. But as the two teams ran out onto the pitch, the masses swarmed out of the beer tent and took their places in the stands. We ended up with 2,300-odd people in the crowd.

And despite all of the empty spaces in the ground, some old goat had a good moan about how I was sitting in his seat.

I found that quite amusing, but not as amusing as many years ago when I was in Southport one Saturday afternoon and to pass the time, had gone along to Haig Avenue where Southport Reserves were playing. 30 people in the ground, and I was leaning on a crash barrier, one of about only 10 people standing on the “popular side”, when some other old goat came along and said “that’s my space there where you are standing”.
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I’ve told you about the highlights of the match, but that kind of thing doesn’t explain everything that went on.

Kostovski, the big Macedonian centre-forward, was in the thick of the action, bulldozing his way through the defence. But after the penalty award, he went down like a sack of bricks under a challenge in the Lommel United penalty area. The referee waved at him to get to his feet, and my opinion was that Kostovski was lucky that he didn’t receive a yellow card. But while he was beating his fists on the ground in frustration, he was caught offside as OH Leuven regained possession of the ball. This kind of thing makes me despair of footballers.

However, round about 25 minutes or so, he was taken off the field with a foot injury. His replacement was a player called Loemba, who was a winger. This left Casagolda up front on his own, and this rather blunted the OH Leuven attack. Not only that, Loemba was not having a good day at the office.

If that wasn’t enough, after about 80 minutes or so, The OH Leuven manager took off Casagolda, and brought on yet another winger, the n°10 who had played so well against AFC Tubize a few weeks ago. And so now we were treated to some really rapid OH Leuven breakaways down the field and down the wings, but with not a soul up in the penalty area to receive the ball and take on the Lommel United keeper. On several occasions, the OH Leuven wingers were just run to earth in the corner by the Lommel United full-backs.

On the way back, I went to the Carrefour to do my weekend’s shopping. I remembered to buy my bread but I forgot my olives. I also bought some more of that vegan lemon sorbet and a few fresh-fruit packs seeing as they were reduced in price.

Back here, I wasn’t all that hungry so I had a couple of rounds of cheese on toast.

Liz was on line when I switched on the laptop so we had a good chat. But I couldn’t last out. I’d not had my sleep this afternoon and I’d had a bad night too. I was out of it, and curled up and went off to sleep quite early.

EPIC HALL

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