Tag Archives: Amber

Saturday 7th September 2019 – I HAVE THROWN AWAY …

… a whole lifetime today.

Regular readers of this rubbish will recall that I travel around the world in some kind of peripatetic idyll, all of my possessions either on my back or in one of my trucks (Caliburn in Europe, Strider in North America).

But today, up at the mill, I heaved almost all of my North American possessions into a skip (dumpster to you North Americans) and put an end to my nomadic lifestyle.

It’s simply that I can’t do it any more and it’s no point pretending that I can continue. Watching the blood count slowly decline over the last two years down to the critical level (which it must surely have reached by now seeing as I haven’t had it checked for almost 3 months) and knowing that my days are numbered, it’s just useless weight that I’m dragging around with me.

In a couple of weeks I’ll be up in Montreal and I’ll be emptying out my storage locker. The only thing that I’ll be salvaging from there will be the amplifier and speaker for the bass and the remainder will be joining the rest of the travelling gear in that great camp site in the sky.

That’ll be the first time in Montreal this year. It’s not like me, is it?

But I’ll tell you something. Regular readers of this rubbish will recall my mentioning the rather lively back end of Strider, how we travelled mainly sideways down a variety of gravel roads in Labrador. “Lively” back in those days had absolutely nothing on “lively” today, with almost nothing on the pick-up bed.

If I ever make it back to Labrador, we shall certainly be living in interesting times.

Having crowed about my really good nights just recently, it’s almost inevitable that they should catch up on me sooner or later.

And so it was last night.

For a start, we were still awake, the bass guitar and me, at well past midnight as I was picking away at various bass lines, unable to sleep. One thing about life on The Good Ship Ve … errr … Ocean Endeavour is that it has pumped music back into my soul.

But when I finally did manage to drop off, the dictaphone tell its own story. There’s a record on average about every 20 minutes over a three-hour period, and what I do remember from the various nocturnal rambles is that every single one of them concerned Castor pursuing me around the ship.

Not that I’m complaining of course. Usually, anyone pursuing me anywhere would be almost certainly brandishing the kind of offensive weapon that would paralyse a polar bear, so it makes a nice change to be pursued by pleasant company. What I don’t understand is why I thought it necessary to run away. I’m definitely losing my grip.

Once all of that was over I was up and about, only to find that we had run out of bread for breakfast. With Zoe not coming back last night, we hadn’t been to the shops had we?

Instead Rachel and I went straight up to the garage and made coffee, and slowly woke up.

Then it was that I attacked the emptying of Strider and that took me almost up to lunchtime. But lunchtime was late – there was a queue of trucks needing attention in the workshop and we couldn’t move one out until almost 12:45.

Zoe, who had by now put in an appearance, and I shot back to the house, picked up all of her belongings and, now that Strider was almost empty, whipped them down to her new house. And I’m glad that we had emptied Strider because by the time we got to Woodstock we were half a million strong and there wasn’t much room inside the truck.

Atlantic Superstore was next for a week or two’s load of vegan food so that I can eat properly, and also due to the fact that we are having another vegan messing with us for a while.

There’s a hurricane threatening here and out in the sticks a back-up generator is necessary. But believe it or not, in a household with 6 cars, three trucks, two heavy trucks and assorted 4-wheelers, snowmobiles, golf carts and Amber’s motor scooter, there wasn’t a drop of spare fuel.

Consequently Hannah had thrown a pile of empty fuel cans into the back of Strider and I came back from Irvings at Woodstock with 157.6 litres of petrol in the back of Strider. The rear end of Strider wasn’t bouncing around at all then!

Next stop was back at the garage. Darren had a rear wheel bearing, driveshaft oil seal, brake disk and caliper to change on the rear of a Chevrolet D5500 heavy truck – the one that I drove down to New Hampshire a couple of years ago to take that racing engine for repair.

It’s not difficult task but it’s heavy, dirty and complex, and four hands are always better than two working down a cramped inspection pit.

The task involved a judicious amount of heat and with an oxy-acetylene welding torch it brought back many happy memories. The last time that I did any welding on a car was the old Passat back in 1997 but that was with the mig-welder. With oxy-acetylene, the last time that I did any welding was stitching Nerina’s Ford Fiasco back together back in something like 1991. When I had my taxi company I was probably welding up one car or other almost every day.

We’d finished by about 18:00 and staggered off back home.

And I couldn’t resist a smile. Driving 20 miles with 157 litres of petrol floating around in the back of the truck and having to invent a makeshift stopper for one of the cans – getting out the oxy-acetylene welding bottles – crawling around an inspection pit in a garage taking driveshafts out of lorries and showering myself in Hypoid 90 – I thought that I had left all of that behind me more than 30 years ago.

You can take the boy out of Crewe right enough, but you can’t ever take Crewe out of the boy.

But then that’s why I like New Brunswick. It’s about 50 years behind the times and suits me perfectly.

Rachel came to awaken me later. It seems that I had crashed out for a while (hardly a surprise) and it was now tea-time. A chick pea curry which was delicious, and then we were descended upon by hordes of people. Amber is having a party and despite the rain and the winds, there are dozens of teenagers all attired in a variety of swimwear and heading for the hot tub outside.

I’ve locked myself in my room with the bass guitar and I am refusing to come out until the coast is clear. It’s a good job that it’s Sunday tomorrow and a lie-in is on the cards. I think that I’m going to need it.

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Friday 6th September 2019 – HATS OFF …

… to whoever has had the patience (or maybe it’s the motivation LOL) to sit and read their way through 29 pages of my website followed by no less than 55 pages of my blog.

I know that what I write is right riveting stuff but with 15 blog entries on a page, that’s 825 days’ worth of entries – not far short of 2.5 years and that calls for a lot of persistence and determination.

Either someone has nothing better to do with his or her time, or it’s someone else collecting evidence for my incarceration LOL. But just remember the Hispano-Roman rhetorican Quintilian who once famously said (with paraphrased lines much-later quoted by people such as Richelieu and Laubardemont) something along the lines of “If you give me six lines written by the hand of the most honest of men, I will find something in them which will hang him”.

But no matter what – I admire your persistence. Hats off to you.

Last night was another excellent sleep and I was off on a voyage or two during the night. High time I started attacking the dictaphone notes so that I can see where I’ve been.

Slept right through the alarms yet again and finally managed to crawl out of my stinking pit at about 10:30.

It took a while to come round but when I did, I made a start on going through the suitcase.

But, as usual, I was sidetracked. Since I had awoken, I had had a couple of lines of a poem going around in my head – something that I must have had going on during the night on a voyage somewhere.

These things usually escape me but for some reason or other, seeing as it was something rather emotional that related to something intense that happened on one of my voyages, I determined to write it down before I forgot.

By the time that I had finished, I’d ended up with a poem of seven verses and I’m working on an eighth) and a chorus, and by the time I’d read through it a few times I had a beat and a rhythm going on in my head.

There are a couple of 6-string guitars around here but could I find them? Could I ‘eck as, so I turned to the piano. The piano is not my forte so I dashed outside to Strider and rescued the perishing bass.

Two years since it’s been out and about and much to my surprise it was still in tune (these mobile phone apps are quite good) so I picked out a bass line, a rhythm and a lead break.

It needs more work of course, but I’m impressed about how it worked out.

By now Amber was back from school so we had a chat. And it looks as if I’m going to resume my duties as a driving monitor at some point. She’s spent her summer shop wages on a car – a VW Jetta diesel – and now she needs to put the hours in. She shouldn’t have any trouble though – she’s been throwing around a 3,500hp tractor for the last two years so a Jetta should be child’s play.

And I’m still wondering who it was who took Strider down to the garage that day just over two years ago when it needed the gearbox linkage adjusting. Amber was the only one here but she was only days past her 14th birthday. She wouldn’t have done it.

Rachel came in and went out again, then Hannah came in later. We exchanged a few words and then she and Amber went off to do girly things down in Woodstock.

I waited for Zoe but she never turned up, so I went to make myself some beans on toast – only for the tin opener to hold onto the lid and drop the can and all of the beans all over the floor. Last tin of beans too.

It’s not my day, is it?

Darren and I had a chat about trucks and his plan for the new tractor-pulling season and then I went off to my room.

There’s a lot to do tomorrow. I’ve made a conscious decision that I’m not ever going out roughing it in Strider (or anything else) again so I’m going to throw away all of my gear – stuff that I won’t need any longer.

There’s a skip at the mill right now so I’m going to take full advantage of it.

So I need to gird up my loins and gather my strength.

And if my phantom follower is still out there, then good night to you, sir! Identify yourself and I’ll buy you a beer.

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Thursday 5th September 2019 – I WAS RIGHT …

… about the bed in here.

It took me a while to settle myself down but once I’d gone, I’d gone for good and I had the best sleep that I have had for at least two weeks.

Off on a few voyages too, for the first time for a week, and I’ll tell you all about them once I’ve organised the dictaphone.

During one of my voyages, I heard one of the participants call my name, so I sat up bolt-upright. I’ve not had a moment like that for several years and when I did it was usually a plea for help or for me to get in touch.

For a fact, I know that Castor was in one of my voyages, and so, when I heard the call, I wondered if it was she. But who knows, and this is not the moment for me to find out, I reckon, even if, to paraphrase the words of Adolphus Greely whose expedition came to grief on Cape Sabine, “I know of no law, human or divine, that was broken …”.

If Castor wants to get in touch with me then she can. She has the means or if not, she can find them. But it’s not the moment for me to be taking any initiative.

For once I slept right through the alarms and it was 10:30, when the telephone rang, that I awoke. I wasn’t quick enough to answer the telephone though.

Instead I carried on with a few tasks that needed attention – I still wasn’t in work mode – then round about 14:30 went for a shower and a clean-up.

Back in bed afterwards until Hannah came home and we had one of our lengthy chats. I’m glad to see her doing so well after her spell at University.

She’s been offered a chance to study for her CPA but she’s not sure. I was explaining to her the benefits, particularly if someone else is paying for the course.

Darren came back later and we had a chat while Amber made tea. And even though it’s only 21:45 I’m off to bed.

I have a lot of sleep to catch up on.

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Thursday 4th July 2019 – LAST NIGHT …

… I was in bed early and having watched a film, was soon off to sleep.

And to my surprise I managed to sleep for most of the night too – with a brief awakening round about 04:40.

Plenty of time to go off on a little travel too. I was in Shavington somewhere and we’d had friends staying – American friends. I awoke, and these people were awake too so I asked hem what time it was. They replied that there was 12 minutes to go until the alarm. So when the alarm went off these people got up and got ready. I directed them to go back to Crewe via Chestnut Avenue, that way, so they could see the houses and the town and see how people lived, councillors and so on. But whoever I was with said that councillors don’t live round here. They all live in the big houses on the new estates. We were out after that trying to find something and we wanted a newspaper. We had to work the controls to this machine in a certain way in order to work it, but I couldn’t get it right. The newsagent had some papers on display but it was things like the Daily Sexpress and the Daily Wail, Tory party garbage newspapers or whatever and I had no intention whatever of reading any of them. The rest of this dream has evaporated.
No it hasn’t because it suddenly came back. The woman was actually Rose Stephenson but a trimmer version of her. We were in a car somewhere and had been for a drive, but had parked up on the edge of the road at the entrance to a narrow secluded lane. every time that a car came up behind us I’d move the car further down the lane. She started to become annoyed about me driving her car, not very happy at all. But then she cottoned on to what I wanted to do, which was to be alone with her in a quiet dark secluded place, so we ended up in a quiet, dark secluded place further down this little lane as you might expect.
Later, we were back on board ship and she decided that she would go for a swim. She met up with Rosemary, who already had on her bathing costume and Rose was getting into hers. Rosemary was ready first and went to dive into the pool.

This morning though I didn’t manage to beat the first or second alarm, but I comfortably beat the third alarm to the bathroom which is always a good sign. Then I came up on deck to photograph the early morning sun.

Realising that I had forgotten my medication, I went back down again. And I might just as well have gone back to bed because I hadn’t realised – and no-one had said – that we’ve passed into a different time zone (we’re at 62°N 16°W) so we’ve gained an hour and instead of it being 06:30 it’s actually 05:30.

Eventually it was breakfast time and afterwards, I spent all of the morning attacking the rest of the photos for June 2019 and organising them correctly. And there were more than enough of them too. 301 to be precise.

We had a pleasant surprise at lunchtime. We have a Nepalese sous-chef on board and he prepared a delicious curry for us. Of course, it was nothing like as spicy as I would have liked but this is a North American company with mainly North American clients so it can’t be helped.

This afternoon I went up into the observation room and read a book on Iceland. But we are in the shipping lane now so there was a fair bit of marine traffic. And on one occasion, a container ship going past bounced its wi-fi signal off us so we even had an internet connection, so I was able to wish Amber a happy birthday.

For tea, we had a pleasant surprise. All six of us were invited to sit at the captain’s table with the captain and a representative of the owners who is on board performing an audit. While we were there we had our first sight of land for a while too. Some offshore islands, including the one that suddenly appeared out of the ocean 50-odd years ago and the name of which I’ll tell you in early course (it’s called Surtsey).

But I didn’t stay too long because I was struggling to avoid bursting out into a fit of uncontrollable laughter. The Canadians were complaining about Muslims coming to their country and bringing all their clothing and their religion with them. So I had a close look at these Canadians to see if they were wearing buckskins, with feathers in their hair, warpaint on their faces, worshipping shamans and living in a tepee, speaking Huron or Iroquois.

Of course they aren’t.

They brought their European clothes, their European habits, their European religion and their European language with them. North Americans don’t “do” irony of course, but the hypocrisy of these people is totally staggering.

I had to walk away before I either burst out laughing or before I said something completely injudicious.

It’s quite late now but I’m staying up until late. It’s beautiful weather outside and I’m sure that we are going to have another magnificent sunset. It will be worth waiting for.

And I was right.

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Saturday 4th May 2019 – WONDERS WILL NEVER CEASE!

stade briochin us granvillaise stade louis dior granville manche normandy franceUS Granvillaise have not been playing so well just recently, as regular readers of this rubbish will recall. And tonight, they were playing Stade Briochin, the league leaders, who were in yellow.

And I could see all of this ending in tears.

But to the surprise of everyone in the ground, and probably the players too, Granville actually won. 2-1 it was too.

They scored first with a penalty – a carbon copy of the goal the other week. The little n°10 wiggled his way into the penalty area, going nowhere and inviting a foul challenge.

And the opposition defence duly obliged.

Mind you, Stade Briochin equalised 2 minutes later – another penalty from a rather soft and accidental handball in the area.

Granville scored a second goal about 5 minutes into the second half with a beautiful flowing goal, and then hung on for the rest of the match.

We had no less than 6 minutes of injury time at the end of the match and I’ve no idea at all where all of that came from.

supporters stade briochin us granvillaise stade louis dior granville manche normandy franceStade Briochin, whose supporters turned out in numbers, complete with flags and drums, can count themselves unlucky in this game because they were the better team, but we were treated to a goalkeeping masterclass by the Granville keeper Florian Verplanck.

He’s a player who has impressed me right from the start of the season, and what he’s doing keeping goal at this level I really don’t know, and today he played the best that I have ever seen.

He made several brilliant saves at crucial moments, and even managed to get his hands to the penalty. The only time that Stade Briochin got past him, there was a defender present to clear off the line.

And Granville had their moments too. They had a couple of excellent chances too. One that will stay in my mind for a long time was the quick, long throw-in from the n°2, a back-header from the n°9 and a beautiful shot on the half-volley from about twenty-five yards out that screamed into the area, grazing the crossbar on its way out for a goal kick.

Last night was another depressing night. I had my early night and went off to sleep, but I kept on waking up throughout the night.

Plenty of time to go on a ramble though. And more than one too.

I’m not sure about what happened first though. It was something to do with 3D modelling or something like that. I’d found a modelling site that I had wanted to use but I couldn’t get access to it. There was something about the minimum order being £10:00 or something like this or whether this was the minimum payment sent to someone. It ended up with me meeting a guy who didn’t really correspond to what I had in mind to do. I wanted something more aggressive than he had. He tried then to provoke me into a fight so in the end I hit him. he went down and I thought “that’s not what I want, is it?”. I don’t know where it went after that.
A little later on I was with a group of young girls. They had already had a telling-off about overplaying to the customers and there they were again on another occasion. One of the girls came round to see me again – it was A and we were talking, saying that they had to calm down their act now and can’t go any further with it and be very careful not to go inciting the customers. I made a joke that “you can incite me any time you like. It’s nice to have that week in every two where it’s nice to have something going it – it makes like much more interesting”. I thought about the time where I’d found that bag or file with about 12 different identities in it and how I had to apply for them. I found that pretty boring but at east this idea with the girls doing their dancing etc makes it extremely interesting for those who have to wait. Like the houses in Chestnut Avenue in Shavington where house sales were such that it was taking 11 months to sell a house and move away and I’m sure that in that particular time these girls would entertain people waiting, one week in every two like they might be doing if we were lucky.
Later still I was with an old school-friend (but it wasn’t him, it was a former friend from another time) and a lady of my acquaintance last night and we’d been going for a good walk around somewhere that gave me the impression that it was somewhere in Germany but she had to wander off somewhere. She got on the bus and we carried on walking. We walked down this suburban road past a big pub and took a turning off to the left onto some kind of new industrial estate. There was a Social Club called the 5MM there so we had a look inside. Then my phone rang and the ring tone distubed everyone so they threw us out. It was our ladyfriend, saying she’d finished and where should we meet? I described where we were – the Social Club, a Hotel also with 5MM in white and blue on it, shops and things and a café and this lady (and I called her another name at the time, no idea why) knew it, but said that it was miles out. I asked this old school-friend/former friend character what we should do, where should we meet up? He replied something along the lines of “well she can get here, can’t she? It won’t take her all that long”. I suggested that to the lady and she replied “that’s miles!” I asked the old school-friend if there was anywhere in between where we could meet. He was rather offhand about it so I passed him the phone and told him to arrange a meeting place with her. He basically told her to come here in rather a brusque tone. She turned up (quicker than I would have expected) and she was really annoyed, shouting at my friend “don’t you know any North German people you could be nice to?”

Just for a change I was up before the final alarm, and organised fairly quickly too. And in the shower as well having a really good scrub ready for the weekend.

All of this led to an early start. I was out in the rainstorm before 09:00 and in LIDL early. There was nothing of any excitement there although I did spend some money there – Supplies are running rather low.

Next stop was, surprisingly, At Espace Auto in the rue de la Fontaine Jolie. Calburn’s Controle Technique is up at the end of the month so I needed to make an appointment for him to have a service and a check-over.

vegan coconut sorbet noz granville manche normandy franceLeclerc had nothing exciting, and neither did NOZ, except for some vegan coconut sorbet – half a litre for €0:99!

I’m not expecting very much from this, but at that price I’m quite willing to risk it to see how it turns out.

Anyway, at least it will be different. I’ll be making an apple pie tomorrow so when I’ve finished the soya cream that’s open I’ll give it a try and see what it’s like.

Back here I put everything away and then, quite an important task -I made some more muesli. I’m running out and I can’t be doing without that.

Into the bedroom afterwards and there I made a start on the dictaphone notes. Another huge pile disappeared and there are only 150 left. But it might be slow for a few days – there was a gap in my blog entries while I was underneath the knife, but it didn’t stop me making notes on the dictaphone.

After lunch I carried on with the dictaphone notes but unfortunately I couldn’t keep going and ended up asleep on the chair for a short while.

At 17:15 I went off to the football now that the weather had cleared up.

writing on pavement granville manche normandy franceThere had been some talk around the town that the Council had been on the prowl around painting helpful notices on the street in strategic places, and this must be one of them.

You can tell that it’s the holiday season, with all of these elferly people with their little toutous messing up the streets and refusing to clean it up, despite the best efforts of the council to place plastic bags all around the town.

It’s hardly a surprise that everyone is so fed up of certain types of tourists who behave like this.

boats la grande ancre port de granville harbour manche normandy franceAfter the football I wandered back home through the crowds of people and the group of young girls who followed me almost to home.

They left me behind at the look-out over the harbour where I stopped to take a photo. You can tell that it’s weekend and the harbour gates are open because all of the fishing boats have come in and are tied up at the quayside.

Our old friend La Grande Ancre is over there on the far side.

Looking at it now, it’s hard to imagine how the port might have been 120 years ago when it was crammed with sail-powered fishing boats who would make the voyage out to the Grand Banks off the coast of Canada.

How times have changed.

Back here it was tea out of a tin seeing as I’ve been out late.
Tomorrow is Sunday – lie-in time. No alarm so just you watch me be wide awake at 05:00.

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Monday 4th March 2019 – MY APPLE PIE …

… is delicious. Especially now that it’s cooled.

And what would have been even nicer would have been to put cinnamon in it instead of coriander. Sometimes I wonder what goes through my head at times.

Today though, has been in football parlance a day of two halves.

Having gone to bed early and having managed a decent sleep, with just one or two little awakenings, it was the alarm that awoke me at 06:00. And again at 06:10. And again at 06:20.

Sometime during the night, I’d been off on my travels. Reliving in some respects –
1) a discussion I’d had a few days ago with Amber
2) another nocturnal voyage of a good while ago
3) a trip that I had made to the UK in the old Ford Escort van in 2006.
It all took place in Ham Street in Kent, where an great aunt of mine used to live and where we used to go on holiday in the early 60s. There was a group of people going off skiing so I tagged along too. I had my skis with me of course, but no ski boots, and I was in a black suit and tie – not a ski outfit at all. The group leader was taking us off, so I explained about the shortfall in my equipment but her response was not to worry about it – and led us off regardless. Somewhere in there too was me in what at the time passed for Canada with a lot of people whom I knew from there, but was pretty much somewhere just like Ham Street, which would be the strangest part of Canada that I ever knew.

There was a lot to do today, so it needed to be done and done quickly. Rather like in MacBeth and “If it were done when ’tis done, then ’twere well it were done quickly”.

First thing to do was to download a form that had been sent to me, and then print it off. All 21 pages or so of it. And then of course, it needed to be filled in.

That wasn’t as easy as it might have been either and there were several questions that I couldn’t answer. So I filled in what I could and put it on one side for a moment.

In the meantime, I booked my trip to Leuven and my accommodation there. I’m spending a good few days there as I have a couple of things that need doing.

As per last time, I’ve booked my train from Brussels to Leuven on line as well. It saves time and stress at Brussels, and saves me 20 cents. Which is just as well, because I couldn’t get a cheap fare to Brussels this time.

By now it was 10:30 and I reckoned that people in the UK would be at work. So I telephoned them and had a discussion about the form that needed signing.

That took about 20 minutes all told, and then I had to scan all 21 pages of the form, assemble it, and send it off by e-mail. It’s not valid until the hard copy is received, but at least it will give them something to work with.

It was now too late to go to the Post Office so I had a nice half an hour shredding paper for the waste bin outside. I need to crack on with this project too and tidy things up here.

After lunch, I went down to the Post Office and sent off the form. That wasn’t cheap either (I’ve paid for a tracking service on it) but I need to know that it’s arrived because it’s important.

Final task was to liquidate my storage locker in the UK. There’s nothing in it of any use and as I have no intention whatever of going back to the UK under any circumstances, it’s pointless keeping it going.

All of this had totally exhausted me. I’m not well and not getting much better and I can’t keep on going. By 15:30 I was on the bed down under the bedclothes and there I stayed until about 17:50.

Totally out of it, I was. And it felt like it too. I’ve had the heating on in the apartment too – the first time for over a week. But I’ll have to be better than this – I’m back on the road in 10 days time.

Tea tonight was a stuffed pepper followed by the apple pie with coconut-flavoured soya cream. And as I said – delicious.

And then the walk around the headland in the storm. I have in mind the idea to go down to the town and see the lights of the fairground, but with this wind there was nothing much happening.

So I’ll go to bed now. See if I can have a good sleep. I need it too if I’m to improve.

But one thing that I will say – and that is that regular readers of this rubbish will recall that a while ago I bought in a cheap €1:00 sale in LIDL a small whiteboard and erasable felt-tip pen.

This is proving its weight in gold for making notes when I’m working. Much better than scraps of paper or trying to remember things that I need to do.

And then just wipe them off afterwards. It’s really one of the best things I’ve ever bought.

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Friday 28th September 2018 – BANE OF BRITAIN …

… strikes again!

And in spades too. The kind of thing that only I can do, and I’m pretty good at it, having had years of practice.

But let’s not get ahead of ourselves right now. Retournons à nos moutons as they say around here.

Having extolled the virtues of a really good night’s sleep yesterday we returned to our customary habits by being wide awake at 01:45, for a reason that I can’t fathom, save as to say that it disturbed me.

From there on in I drifted in and out of sleep until the alarm went off. And then I dashed out of bed because I wanted to see Hannah. It’s homecoming weekend at St F-X so she’s off to Antigonish to meet up with her former colleagues and do a little celebrating.

And quite right too. It’s a kind of end of a long goodbye to an important period in her life. She’s graduated (with distinction, I’m proud to say) from the best University in Canada with enough certificates to cover her bedroom wall and she’s ready to move on into the big wide world.

But she needs to say goodbye in this one before she goes.

She’s like a typical young University graduate – torn between home and family on one side and what the big wide world has to offer on the other side, and so why make your own mistakes when you can listen to the mistakes that other people have made?

And as a result we had a good chat for several hours. After all, no-one has made as many mistakes in their life as I have in mine.

I hadn’t bought her a graduation present because, after all, what do I know about people’s tastes? I gave her some cash and told her to choose a really nice piece of jewellery that she likes, and wear it for me. And then I bunged her a bit more cash to go and have a party.

With having had a bad night, I was ready to go back to bed for half an hour or so. And that turned out to be a couple of hours or so. I still can’t shake off this health issue. I might be feeling better than i was earlier in the week, but that’s a long way from saying that I’m well.

Once I was back in the Land of the Living I had a shower, packed my suitcase and had a very late lunch. Following which I leapt aboard Strider and we went down to the office.

Zoe was there, telling us about her wedding plans. She’s Rachel’s eldest daughter and decided a few years ago to make her own way in the world. She’s finding it tough going and struggling along, and this wedding is proving to be quite a problem.

She’s seen a wedding dress that she absolutely loves and which is apparently beautiful, but she has to pay a 50% deposit to secure it and have the fitting done, and she can’t rustle up the money.

No girl should ever have to settle for second-best on the most important day in her life (a comment which will have made Nerina’s eyes pop out on stalks wondering how she managed to end up with me) and so I gave her her wedding present in advance. Tomorrow she can go and sign up for her dress.

There were a few of us down there this afternoon, with people coming and going, and we ended up having quite a chat.

So much so that we were down there long after closing time, which was just as well because quite late on, someone phoned up with a speculative enquiry about tyres to solve a crisis, and we could actually help out.

Tea was, basically, everything that was left over from earlier in the week and you would be surprised at how nice you can make stuff like that when you have a good imagination and some culinary talent. I certainly enjoyed mine!

Time to hit the road now and so I said goodbye to Darren and Amber. And not wishing to leave Amber out, I slipped her a little present so that she could go shopping. I also had a little word or two in her ear about something or other.

Rachel and I trundled off to Florenceville and the Coach Atlantic bus. Plenty of time to wait and so I started to search my pockets to see what I had forgotten to leave behind.

I found the pot of glue that Darren had given me to look after, and then I boarded the bus.

We stopped at quite a few places along the route, and at the coffee pause at Edmundston I realised that I hadn’t continued the search of my pockets.

And so I did – and found the keys to Strider and Rachel’s spare front door key.

D’ohhhh! That’s really the kind of thing that only I can do, isn’t it?

At Rivieère-du-Loup where I change for the Orleans Express bus to Montreal, I had a chat with the Coach Atlantic driver. She’s doing the return to Moncton tomorrow afternoon and, as luck would have it, is having to call at Florenceville on her way down.

So I negotiated an envelope from the guy in the ticket office, put the keys inside and she dropped it on the dashboard of her bus.

And I settled down ready for the next stage of my journey.

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Sunday 23rd September 2018 – REGULAR READERS …

… of this rubbish will recall that I have given endless amounts of grief to all kinds of Border Patrol, immigration and security services in the past, and on occasions too numerous to enumerate.

And so I take my hat off to Officer Allen of the US Immigration Service who saw me today at Bridgewater, Maine today. If every Immigration Officer were as friendly, courteous and helpful as he, travelling from one country to the next would be an absolute pleasure.

Yes, I’ve been out and about on my travels today. But it was touch and go at one point.

What didn’t help was that, despite it being Sunday, I forgot to switch off the alarm and so that’s guaranteed to get me off on the wrong foot.

I was in the middle of the High Arctic too, doing a guided tour in, of all things, Bill Badger, the old A60 van that I had in the 1970s. When the tour was over, two people – a couple – came over to offer me their services and while I took down their details I knew that I wouldn’t ever be using them, for the least of the reasons being that there are only two seats in the front of the van.

With it being early, I loitered around for a while and then when others started to move around I joined in, had my medication (I’ve found it now) and a coffee.

We all poured out of the house where Amber’s boyfriend was waiting for us, and we shot off down the road to the border. I need a Green Card to cross over, and so I had my pleasant encounter, and then off to Presque Ile in Maine.

It’s my custom when I’m here to treat everyone to Sunday lunch so the Oriental Pearl Chinese buffet was the place to visit. They all tucked into the buffet while the chef made me a vegetable stir-fry with rice.

Next stop was Marden’s.

That’s like Noz only bigger and with more stuff, and many of the tools in Strider have come from there in the past. But today, I bought nothing. Strider and I won’t be going far so I don’t need much.

Back here I hit the wall again and I was gone. Three hours this time, and isn’t this becoming ridiculous? I dunno where I’ll be going with all of this and if I don’t sort myself out soon I won’t make my bus back to Montreal on Friday night.

But later on I came round and surprisingly, had a new lease of life. I could even manage a sandwich. George was back from Winnipeg so he came round and we all had a chat.

But now I’m off to bed. I need to be on the road tomorrow and I have a lot of things to do.

But first I need a good night’s sleep.

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Saturday 22nd September 2018 – OUCH!!!

That was what I call a bad day.

It started off reasonably enough with me being out of bed at 08:00. Unfortunately I hadn’t realised that Rachel was working the Saturday morning shift too these days, so the place was rather like the Marie Celeste.

That all took me back to bed, where the next thing that I remember was the hordes coming back at lunchtime. I had a little chat to Rachel but she said something about the leaves in the pool (yes, we have a swimming pool here now) and so I put on my coat to go outside and fish them out.

By that time Darren had returned and he was going at it, and he passed the baton over to Amber. So I came back inside.

Butties for lunch, seeing as we now have some bread, and then we discussed a few things about our plans for the afternoon.

It was at this point that I had a funny turn. To counter it, I went into my room to sit down in the armchair to let the feeling pass.

Next thing I knew was that Rachel was waking me up for supper. 19:15. I’d been out for about 5 hours. And a shame because I’d been up in the High Arctic again.

Totally unsteady on my feet I tottered off for supper and a chat, and then had that same old feeling so I came back in here.

I think that the three weeks away has finally caught up with me and I’ll be like this for a while.

I shall have to pull myself together.

And hats off to whoever sat down and read 72 pages of my blog today. You deserve a medal

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Thursday 20th September 2018 – AND SO …

… after the vicissitudes of the last three weeks or so, I crashed out good and proper at some kind of unearthly hour yesterday evening in the busom of what remains of my family.

But not for long.

My guilty conscience was clearly pricking at me again because I was wide-awake at about 03:00 and again an hour or so later. And what was remarkable about all of this was that not only did I not remember any particular nocturnal ramble, on the latter occasion I was totally disorientated and had to recycle myself back through the last four or five weeks in order to work out where I was.

It was all rather short-lived though.

Next thing that I remember was that it was about 10:00. Everyone here had gone to school or to work except for Cujo the Killer Cat who still remembered me and came for a really good cuddle and stroke.

There’s a new cat too, called Oscar. Hannah adopted one at University and brought it back when she graduated. Cujo is definitely not impressed.

Four pieces of toast and three coffees later I was tempted to jump into Strider and go in search of food but I was in no condition to move. I had a go at starting to update the blog with the missing entries and managed one and a half.

This is going to be a very long job.

Amber came back from school and we had a chat, and then I went back to bed for another three hours.

When Darren came home I had a chat with him and then also with Rachel and Hannah. But I was pretty-much done and that was that.

I went back to bed where I shall sleep for the next 100 years. This has taken so much out of me

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Wednesday 19th September 2018 – WE FINALLY STAGGERED IN …

… to Lester P Pearson Airport quite early – as in something like 02:20 or whatever. A far cry from our intended 20:00, wasn’t it? And then the interminable file through customs, immigration and baggage collection.

I was well on my last legs right now and so I was rather glad that no-one crossed my path.As regular readers of this rubbish will recall, I don’t really become tired when I’ve had a very long day. Instead of tiredness it’s my irritability that increases and I’ve had some interesting and exciting encounters after a 36-hour working day.

At the Sheraton Gateway hotel, check-in was easy and I departed to my room. By now I’d gone beyond the threshold of tiredness and couldn’t sleep. It was 04:00 when I finally tucked myself up under the blankets and waited for dawn to come.

Sometime during the night I must have gone to sleep because the 08:00 alarm awoke me. The 08:08 and the 08:19 alarms also awoke me. I was having a bad morning.

Something like 09:30 when I hauled myself out of the stinking pit into the shower. And then we had the dramatic search for the clean clothes which I was convinced that I had put into my rucksack, but apparently not. In the end, the dirty clothes had to do.

Breakfast finished at 10:00 so I made it with 30 seconds to spare – only to be told that it wasn’t included in my booking and that I would have to pay extra. I dropped my coffee and orange juice as if I had been scalded and legged it quick.

And then had to leg it back equally quickly, for I had discovered that I had left my camera back at my pseudo-breakfast table.

I went off to Tim Horton’s instead and made contact with the rest of the world. A mere 91 messages on my social networking site awaiting my attention. I dealt with about 5 and discarded the rest.

The coffee, orange and bagels did their best to cheer me up, and so I went for a walk around to see the sights. And there I bumped into Aaron and Deanna doing the same. We had a little chat and then just like the Knights Of The Round Table, we went our separate ways.

Checking in the suitcase was reasonably straightforward. I could even fit a few more bits and pieces into it to make my rucksack more manoeuvrable. The “security” was interesting too, with a few more of these jobsworths who don’t have a clue about what they are doing, trying to make themselves look important.

Having bought bagels to eat for lunch, I was surprised to encounter a “Subway” inside the security area. I bagged a footlong vegetarian to eat, and I can save my bagels for later

Our ‘plane to Fredericton is a Bombardier Q400 R003 – a much-more modern version of the Dash-7 that we had to go from Yellowknife to Baffin Island. Clean and tidy and comfortable (although the leather on the seats was showing its age).

I forgot to note its registration number so if I can see it on the photo I can tell you all about it in due course.

The flight attendant had a weird sense of humour – “if you don’t like the on-board service, there are four emergency exits …”. That’s the kind of humour that I appreciate.

It was something of a shock to arrive in Fredericton. It had been warm and sunny in Toronto but here it was wet and windy – and cold. In fact the cold was more of a shock than anything else. It had been cold of course in the High Arctic but a different kind of cold and it didn’t feel half as bad as I was feeling right now.

Rachel and I drove back into town where she picked up some things that she had ordered from Kent Hardware. I fuelled up her car for her and then we went for a coffee at Tim Horton’s, where she told me that while I had been away, my father had died.

I think that she was expecting me to show more emotion than I did, but the fact is that I ran out of emotion about my family a very long time ago, as regular readers of this rubbish will recall.

Anyway, I shan’t bore you with my problems.

We drove back here and Rachel rustled up something quick to eat. Meantime I had a chat to Darren, Amber and Hannah. It’s been a good while.

And then I staggered off to bed. It’s been a very long day with lots of interruptions and I’m thoroughly exhausted.

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Monday 9th October 2017 – HAPPY THANKSGIVING

And everyone around here is celebrating and giving thanks – for tonight I’ll be on the bus back to Montreal – always assuming that it doesn’t forget me like last year.

I’d had a really early night again last night – alone again, as it happens, and I’d been off on my travels again. back in Virlet as it happens, and everyone was poking fun at me, although there didn’t seem to be any reason why. But I approached the Secretary of the Commune and she explained to me that I was wearing odd shoes. I had a look, and it took quite some doing, even on a close inspection, to see that they were different. How anyone else had noticed from a distance away at a casual glance was beyond me. I asked which “pair” she preferred, and she replied that the “dark blue” shoes were preferable. However they looked the same colour to me and while it might have been dark blue in reality, on my travels last night I reckoned that they were black. So off I trotted back home to look for a matching shoe, but instead found a pair that were a real pair, but were black, and nothing like as highly-polished as the ones that I was wearing (because they really were highly polished). And so, do I ignore the catty remarks, do I carry on hunting for “the other shoe” or do I put on the black, dirty shoes and if so how would everyone else in the village react?

When my alarm went off I went off to ride the porcelain horse, and encountered Cujo the Killer Cat on the way back. I went back to bed seeing as no-one else was stirring, and she stayed there with me for a while before disappearing off.

Eventually, the clatter of dishes from the kitchen told me that Rachel was up and about so I went to help her prepare the breakfast brunch. Famous the whole world over, as I have said.

My share of the breakfast was the beans on toast with hash browns and one of my vegan burgers.

In the afternoon, Amber’s boyfriend came round and we all chilled out and did precisely nothing at all. Round about 14:30, Hannah and her friend left to go back to University at Antigonish and the rest of us, having said goodbye, carried on chatting.

Tea for me was the rest of the vegan burgers, the rest of the beans, and some left-over potatoes from the Thanksgiving meal, followed by rice pudding ditto. Then I went for a shower to wake myself up.

At 19:45 I took my leave of everyone and Rachel drove me to Florenceville and the bus stop. We were an hour early which I preferred after the dreadful performance last year that inconvenienced just about everyone except the bus driver.

We weren’t alone either. One of Rachel’s neighbours was there, putting her son on the bus back to Montreal where he’s at University studying aero-engineering.

maritime coach atlantic riviere du loup quebec canada october octobre 2017We were there quite early, as I have said.

And so, as you might expect, the bus was late arriving.

And Coach Atlantic is spending its money too, so it seems, because this was a modern, clean, comfortable coach, which makes a change from one or two that we’ve travelled on.

Not to say that they were ever dirty or uncomfortable – far from it. But they were starting to become rather long in the tooth. This one was brand-spanking new, with wi-fi, but, alas, still with no power points.

And no data tracker too. Most buses and coaches these days have data trackers fitted so that you can go to the website of the company and see where the bus or coach is. Once Coach Atlantic fits these to their coaches, there won’t be any of this “missing the bus” or waiting around for well over an hour in the pouring rain.

Because pouring rain was what we had had all day. I’d never seen anything like this rain. Heavy, yes, but not persistently so all day.

So having dozed all the way to the St Lawrence, I’m now at Riviere du Loup waiting for the bus that’s coming from the Gaspé that will take me on to Montreal.

It’s always a long night on the overnight bus but at least I don’t have far to stagger from the bus terminal to the hotel where i’ll be staying until tomorrow evening.

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Saturday 7th October 2017 – STRIDER’S FIRST …

strider towing tralier centreville new brunswick canada october octobre 2017… tow job.

And it very likely was too, because all of the electrics on the trailer plug were totally corroded. It took an hour to clean them off and grease them.

And in the end, we only had direction indicators too, but that was good enough to go.

Here in Canada, recycling is big business. And I do mean “business” too. Most of the glass bottles and plastic containers require a deposit, and there’s cash to be earned from aluminium soft drinks cans too.

But remembering where you bought each article and taking them back to the correct shop is a nightmare, so some enterprising people have set up central collection points where you can take your empties, they redeem them from you, and they handle the returns to the various shops.

Amber is fundraising for a school trip to Washington DC in the Spring so she’s been collecting from friends and neighbours. Today, we loaded everything into the small enclosed trailer, under the careful supervision of one of the mill cats, and took it down to the Centre in Bristol.

And you’d be surprised how much we earned too!

It wasn’t as easy as it sounded too. The trailer was stuck deep in the undergrowth and I had to attach a chain to Strider to pull it out.

And then the tow ball was the wrong size so we had to find a smaller one and swap them over. And then the electrics.

Rachel came with us so Strider also had his first rear-seat passenger. There are a couple of pop-up dickey seats in the half-cab at the back and Amber perched on one of those. She refused to travel in the cage.

Another thing as well was that despite being out of practice, not having done it for years, I reversed the trailer exactly where I needed it to be, and on several occasions too, quite often into very small gaps. I was proud of that.

I wasn’t quite right about last night though. Cujo the Killer Cat didn’t come to bed after me. She was in fact already on the bed and waiting for me, which was quite nice. And she stayed for quite a while too.

But I didn’t though. I was off on various nocturnal rambles during the night.

We started off last night somewhere out on the Outer Banks but I don’t now remember exactly what I was doing out there. But anyway I quickly moved on to driving a coach full of young school kids to some kind of science laboratory where they were having some kind of lessons. I had to clean out the coach and found a huge pile of animal hair in the form of a long grey and white tail. It was many metres long and quite valuable too so I collected it up to put in one of the lockers at the side. Having done that, I went into school to say that I was ready to leave, and gave my journey number, which was one of the 6 that began with a figure “4” but the receptionist had said that all of the “4” journeys had gone -which was definitely not the case, for my next trip to the laboratory was another one of the “4” trips, so that hadn’t even arrived.
A little later I was in a car heading to the north of Manchester – a rough area – so I had a CB radio with me. I was chatting to a few people and they began to ask me questions, about what my car looked like and so on. I knew that soon I would have to stop for fuel so I started to give them all kinds of false details about me and the car so that we wouldn’t be recognised.
The discussion moved on then to another erstwhile taxi owner who had never been particularly successful and had fallen foul of the taxi licensing laws. He had been allowed to start again with just one car but hadn’t been successful and I was trying to buy him out. But the discussion concerned his own ineptitude and incompetence.

After our return from the Recycling Centre, I had to go shopping. And come back and go again because, in the kind of thing that only I can do, I forgot to take any money.

A shower, shave and clean clothes were next, and then we attacked the Thanksgiving meal. 14 of us, there were, and we made tons of food, much of which wasn’t eaten and went into the fridge. And then Rachel and I attacked the mountains of washing up.

Although it’s early, I’m in bed. I’m totally exhausted and I’ve crashed out twice already. I managed just enough effort to put a pile of clothes in the wash, and that’s my lot until the morning

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Thursday 24th August 2017 – CANADIAN WINTERS …

ford ranger rotted shock absorber strider aout august 2017… can be pretty brutal on mild steel.

No wonder Strider was dancing and hopping around on the road last night coming back from Fredericton with a pair of shock absorbers looking something like these.

The hoods were completely corroded away and the telescopic shafts were pitted, meaning that there was no effective seal.

Add to this an oil change, fixing a leaking rear differential, a safety inspection and …gulp … two new tyres (and I’ve fitted the best, none of your cheap rubbish) and I’m now lying down in a darkened room to recover from the shock.

But at least Strider handles like he ought to handle, and I’m well-prepared for the far north of Labrador in a couple of weeks time.

I have the licensing and the insurance to deal with too next week. But even so, it still all works out cheaper than hiring a vehicle.

And I’ve worked out how Strider managed to go to the transmission shop to have his overdrive problem fixed when everyone was so busy that they couldn’t spare the time. And it can’t possibly be Amber who drove it there, can it? After all, she’s only just turned 14 and isn’t allowed to drive a motor vehicle on the public highway.

Last night was a very bad night for me. I have felt it coming on for the last couple of days and knew that it wouldn’t be long in arriving.

All day yesterday I was feeling out of sorts and coming back from Fredericton was a struggle. I went to bed almost as soon as I arrived back here but sleep was… shall we say …fitful.

I didn’t feel much like it this morning either and didn’t have any breakfast, but I gradually came round and by 10:00 I was feeling rather better.

But the strain that everyone is under here in Ellen’s absence is telling and we had what can only be described as “an unfortunate outburst” this morning.

This led, rather surprisingly, to two people not at all connected with the events rounding upon the perpetrator and telling him precisely what they thought about the event – and in no uncertain terms either.

This led to the perpetrator “going out to deliver some hogfeed” and that was the last that we saw of him all day, which suited everyone else quite fine.

We even had a “team meeting” and summoned the local computer programmer to come up with a new accounting system to replace the one that Noah had used to calculated the finances of building the Ark.

Amber was out with her boyfriend this evening but Hannah’s friend had arrived (they are going back to University tomorrow) so we were still pretty numerous for tea. Rachel had made me a nice salad and soup.

Now I’m off to bed – an early night. I have a lot of sleep to catch up on after yesterday.

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Monday 21st August 2017 – I DID MANAGE …

… to go to sleep last night – to such an extent that I was away on my travels.

I was in Winsford having to go to Northwich and there was a choice of two routes to take. And they were the same distance too so I couldn’t decide which one to take, especially seeing as I was going on foot. But eventually I arrived there and came out of a building that might have been the railway station (but which isn’t). On the left was some kind of 1960s tower block which the town council was using as its headquarters and to the right was an old Victorian building rather like a school which was owned by the Council and which had been their previous HQ but was now derelict, and there was some scandal about the deal which had led to the Council vacating the building and leasing the more modern one for a fee which many people considered to be excessive. I was in a crowd across the square watching this old building, in the company of none other than Liz Ayers – and how many years is it since she’s been on a nocturnal ramble with me? I saw a movement over the roof of this building and couldn’t explain what it was – something like a shadow but I called it a light, which it most certainly wasn’t. But as I said it, six red lights appeared in the sky quite low down just underneath the fullish moon. “Space Laboratory” immediately came into my mind. I tried to explain this to everyone but as they all turned to look, some old woman on a broomstick – a witch – came flying out of the moon.

It was a very restless night last night with me tossing and turning so much, but I was asleep yet again when the alarm clock went off. Sleep is one thing – crawling out of bed is quite something else.

But I had a quick breakfast, made my sandwiches and went with Rachel into the office.

Making myself useful, I cleaned out the bathroom from top to bottom and threw away tons of stuff that had accumulated in there. Now it’s quite clean and shiny, but it did take ages and I had to sit down for a while afterwards.

Having gathered my strength I went round with Rachel to Bob’s house and finished off the vacuuming now that I had located the bags. And we did some general tidying up too.

I hope that I’m still in this kind of mood when I return home.

We had a knotty accounting problem to deal with this afternoon. Ellen is still running the accounts on the basis of Canadian 19th Century accounting, poor Rachel is struggling to understand it and explain it to me, and I’m trying to do it with British 21st Century accounting principles based on Ellen’s templates and Rachel’s explanations. And so between the two of us we ended up in a hopeless tangle.

But we sorted it out eventually once it suddenly clicked with Rachel and she could explain it to me.

In the meantime I’d crashed out, woken up, and gone for a walk around the old railway station site for some fresh air.

Amber and her boyfriend brought me back here where I promptly crashed out again. But a shower brought me round and a nice tea of the rest of the salad and soup from Saturday made me feel even better.

Now I’m having an early night and I hope that I’ll feel better in the morning. Because my legs have swollen up again and that has depressed me mightily.

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