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Wednesday 25th December 2024 – A MERRY CHRISTMAS …

… to all our readers.

And so it once said on the walls of the public conveniences on Crewe Bus Station, now sadly demolished after a life of just 60 years.

a World-famous place were the toilets on Crewe Bus Station. The number of times I’ve GONE DOWN TO THE BOG AND WARMED MY FEET at Crewe Bus Station. And of course, I passed my Biology ‘O-Level’ only thanks to the helpful drawings on the back of the doors, and future generations will all be denied the privilege of the revision notes, and also of knowing the whereabouts of Kilroy that particular week.

But I digress … "again" – ed …

It will probably be after midnight when you read these notes, because I’m much later even than usual today, but anyway, I hope that you had a wonderful Christmas and that Santa was kind to you.

As for me, it’s one year closer to destiny. As I have said before … "and on many occasions too" – ed … no-one with this illness has lived longer than 11 years so I’m due to be gone by November 2026 at the latest.

And to be honest, regular readers of this rubbish will recall several occasions where I’ve been teetering on the edge of throwing in the towel. In the Summer I was actually preparing my funeral. One of these days I’ll not be able to pull myself out of wherever I slide into

Last night though, I had difficulty sliding out of my chair and into my bed. I was working away at a couple of things that I was doing and 01:00 came round, then 02:00 and finally 03:00 which was when I called it a night and went to bed.

What awoke me was a message on my telephone. And to my dismay, it was merely 08:40. No alarm, hoping for a nice long lie-in, and it was 08:40. By 09:00 I’d given up trying to sleep and rose up from the Slough of Despond and staggered off into the bathroom.

There is no nurse this morning, which is just as well, so I made breakfast. Porridge and toast with vegan cheese spread, beans on toast with sausage and home-made hash browns, and I forgot the mushrooms. Plenty of strong black coffee of course.

For Christmas morning I like to have a nice brunch-type breakfast. It’s not on the scale of a Taylor Breakfast Brunch in New Brunswick, with people known to have travelled hundred miles to partake, but it will do.

While I was eating, I was reading MY NEW BOOK.

Today we’re discussing the coming of the Bronze Age to the British isles, some Centuries after it had spread all over the Continent, and also the hundreds of hillforts that were built round about this time.

His writing is nothing really but page after page after page of pure assumption and guesswork, rather spoiled by the sideways swipes that he takes at his contemporaries who are also writing books based on sheer, but different assumptions.

As for hillforts, using a lovely bit of rhetorical hyperbole, he tells us that "they are conspicuous on nearly all the hilly districts of England, Wales, and Scotland".

He passes lightly over the construction of the forts which is a shame because there is a lot to say about theat. And then he mentions next-to-nothing at all about what I consider the most astonishing points –

Firstly, who organised the construction? We stood on one back in 2006 and noted that it was immense, and there are many forts much bigger than where we were. The labour that went into building one of those must have been enormous, and someone must have had enough influence on the local population to oblige them to participate for as long as it took to build them, abandoning their work on the land.

Secondly, who was threatening them that they needed the protection of one of these hillforts? It can’t have been anyone insignificant like a local rival tribe. These forts are much more significant than just a simple refuge from marauding bands.

For once, he doesn’t say very much, and that’s disappointing. I expected streams of comment about hillforts.

Back in here I listened to the dictaphone to find out what had been going on during the night. There was a party of elves out on a patrol somewhere. They came across a small group of humans trying to move surreptitiously through the long grass. Rather reluctantly the elves took it upon themselves to escort these humans through this disputed territory and out the other side, in the hope that no-one else crosses the threshold and brings danger with them. When they were halfway across they were ambushed in a surprise attack by a group of orcs and so many of their people were actually killed. The elf leader was standing there despondent. He caused everyone, including the two of us, to sing a song praising the elves, the heroic of the elves. I asked how much longer we had to serve. He replied “not very many at all” but he expected us, having undergone our education and schooling with the elves, to stay behind in this time of danger and repay the State by fighting on its behalf.

Elves and Orcs? I must stop watching THE HOBBIT as I eat my tea. It’s hobbit-forming. And did you notice how half-way through, the “they” turned to a “us”? When did I become involved in this dream.

Back in the olden days, not only was university tuition free, students received maintenance grants to go to University too. And many of them still had to do their National Service when they graduated – a way of repaying the State “by fighting on its behalf”

Today, I have emulated my namesake the mathematician by doing three-fifths of five-eights of … errr … nothing. Really I haven’t. I found some football to watch and then I’ve been playing about sorting some directories out on the computer.

That however caused me to be so engrossed that I didn’t even think about lunch but I will tell you something for nothing, and that is that my mince pies and Christmas cake are really wonderful. I have really produced something exceptional with that lot and I was so pleased when I sampled it at 16:00 during my hot chocolate break. I’ll make some more of that if I’m still here next year.

Tea was my Christmas dinner of course, minus the stuffing that I forgot to make. It was a slice of that vegan wellington that has been in the freezer since last year, with steamed veg (including endives, sprouts, cauliflower and leeks) but I was so full after that I decided to forego the Christmas pudding. That shall be tomorrow’s pudding, and for a few days after too.

So it’s now after midnight and I’m letting it all hang out yet again. Still working too at this time of night. Whatever next?

But talking about the long grass in that dream … "well, one of us is" – ed … reminds me of the explorers in the savannah of South Africa in the 19th Century who came across a tribe of pygmies, previously undiscovered by Europeans
The reason why they had remained undiscovered for so long was that they were only three feet tall, and the savannah grass was four feet tall so they had never been seen.
Cecil Rhodes, the British Administrator sent for one of the explorers and asked him what he knew about the tribe
"They have a very strange dance that they do, jumping up and down" and he said "and they are called the “Hellawi” tribe"
"How did you come to find that out?" asked Rhodes
"They told me" said the explorer.
"How did they do that"
"There they were, in the savannah, doing their dance, jumping up and down" said the explorer "and shouting ‘we’re the Hellawi’."

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Saturday 30th December 2023 – IT DOESN’T TAKE …

… much for me to descend into the pit of darkness and despair, and here I am again after hauling myself out yesterday.

That’s right – someone has sent me a soundtrack of the final Lindisfarne concert at Newcastle upon Tyne City Hall in 2003. “Here – play with this” – all 2 hours and 21 minutes of it.

So in a short while I’ll have a message – “can you do a 57-minute concert for me, with a 3-minute commentary in German?”. My German isn’t what it ought to be unfortunately but I’ll do my best. After all, I do owe someone a few favours, especially as rather a large amount of concert soundtracks have appeared in this way.

However, I have another idea for my purposes. Many of Lindisfarne’s songs were written by “Jimmy” Alan Hull, alas no longer with us, and many others were written by Rod Clements. Now if I were to go through the soundtrack and pick out the songs from each of the two, I might be able to make up a couple of concerts, one for each musician, and play it on their birthday or something.

But Lindisfarne …

If ever there were two groups that shaped my teenage years between 1970 and 1972, it would be Jethro Tull and Lindisfarne. Jethro Tull’s BENEFIT, STAND UP,AQUALUNG, THICK AS A BRICK and A PASSION PLAY have been on my playlist since they first came out, and witll always be there.

But then again, so will Lindisfarne’s NICELY OUT OF TUNE? FOG ON THE TYNE and DINGLY DELL

These were the groups that were played non-stop by my friends and me during that period but Lindisfarne were special. There was quite a big Lindisfarne fan club at my school and one of them follows this blog from the Shetland Islands (hello, Robert).

At Christmas 1971 I actually saw Lindisfarne. They played at a private members’ club in Crewe and I remember it very well, and for several reasons too.

Firstly, this was the occasion when Ray Jackson did his harmonica solo in the middle of WE CAN SWING TOGETHER, which usually lasted about 10-12 minutes.

However at “Up The Junction” in Crewe that night it went on, and on, and on, and was probably about 25 minutes long.

The story was that the rest of the band nipped out and went across the road to “The Barrel” for a quick pint. While they were out there, it was 23:00 and being a private members’ club, no-one was allowed in after that time, so the door was locked. The rest of the group was thus locked outside and they were banging on the door for 10 minutes trying to catch the attention of someone to let them back in.

The second reason was that I was 17 and my girlfriend at the time was … errr … not quite 14. Ordinarily, being under the age of 18 we wouldn’t be allowed in but my elder sister and her husband were both members and had cards of admission, and they weren’t photo-ids in those days of course.

Anyway, to cut a long story short … "thank God" – ed … my girlfriend hadn’t ever drunk alcohol before, as I found out far too late to do any good. And it’s no use, you can’t take it out once it’s gone in.

Taking a girl of … errr … not quite 14 home steaming drunk a long way after her curfew time did not go down at all well with her parents as you can imagine and so as far as that relationship went, that was regrettably that.

Funnily enough, whenever I went out with a girl during that kind of period, something always went wrong and incited the ire of a set of parents. I never seemed to have any luck in that respect.

But as you can see, Lindisfarne has a special place in my heart and brings back quite a lot of memories from the period 1970-72 when I was finding my feet as a young proto-adult. It certainly did today.

Meanwhile, back at the ran … errr … bed, when the alarm went off this morning I was reminiscing about my stag night before my wedding. And I’ve no idea why because it wasn’t anything earth-shattering.

In fact, all that happened was that a group of friends (yes, I did have friends in those days) and I went on a tour of the decent pubs in Crewe (I used to drink in those days) and finished up in an Indian restaurant on Nantwich Road for a curry after kicking-out time at the pubs.

There were a few pubs in Crewe that were what I call decent – an old-world type of atmosphere and served proper beer.

iI’s 31 years since I left the UK so of course I can’t remember many of them now but we had the Horseshoe up in Coppenhall and the Crown in Earle Street that served Robinsons’s beer, the Lion and Swan in West Street that served Boddington’s and the Express in Mill Street that served real Tetley’s.

However the Express was a pub where you had to be careful. It was a pub frequented by a certain type of person and a friend of mine had an uncomfortable 5 minutes in there when he went to pick up a passenger when he was driving a taxi for me.

It reminded me of the time that I was in Berlin with a coach on my way to Moscow. I decided to go for a walk that evening and one of the passengers decided to accompany me – a young Canadian guy.

At one moment we went into a bar for a beer and after a couple of minutes the guy with me asked “what do you notice about the customers here?”

“Well” I replied, “there are plenty of couples in here but I don’t see any women at all”.

And so in the best traditions of the News of the Screws, we “made our excuses and left”.

The Crown was another pub that I only visited on rare occasions even though it was one of the best pubs in the town.

That was because there were some customers in there who used my taxis. They were always in there every evening and there was something not quite right about what was going on with them, their friend and their children. And they were the clingy type.

There were a couple of other pubs in Crewe too that were worth a visit but I can’t remember them now. It was all such a long time ago.

So after taking the blood pressure I went for all of my medication – 15 tablets of it and then back in here I had a listen to the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during the night. One of my dreams about dreaming, a really long, involved one with about 8 or 9 different phases in it, part of which involved a school. I’d come to the attention of the local newspaper and in collaboration with the local radio station they wanted to broadcast it with me reading it, explaining it as I went along and could copy it into the newspaper. But of course, how do you explain dreams? How do you interpret them as you go along? Regardless of what Freud and these other people said, there’s absolutely no connection at all between the dreams and anything in particular so it was totally impossible, but they were insisting so I went to read it but I couldn’t remember what had happened, I couldn’t remember what went on and I couldn’t remember what I was going through at that particular time when I dreamt it. They were still harping on about this flaming dream and I was totally lost and submerged in all kinds of problems associated with trying to repeat it and interpret it.

And I’m impressed that I can come out with all of that during a dream when I’m asleep.

Later on I read somewhere in some kind of paper that there was going to be a dance at the school on Friday evening next week starting at 16:00 to celebrate the death of the headmaster Mr. Morris. I knew nothing about this and no-one had said anything so I didn’t know what was happening. Usually someone would mention something about a school dance to me because of obtaining all the PA equipment, disco deck etc but nothing had been said. So on the way back to class after lunch I was with my classmate who now lives in Munich. He had his satchel draped over his shoulder but not actually fastened but extremely casual and pale grey trousers instead of dark grey ones. I went and found one of the teachers whom I know organised a lot of events for the school and asked her when she was going to let me know about the dance on Friday week. She gave a very non-committal answer and someone else shouted at my friend to go and organise himself and dress properly, put his satchel on etc. Anyway, not knowing what to do I left and thought that the simplest thing to do of course is to force their hand. I went into my form room and quite a lot of my form-mates were there and I just announced “by the way, there will be a school dance a week on Friday” and gave them all the details as far as I could. I asked them if they could spread the word around their classes this afternoon. I thought that that is going to be the easiest way to deal with this situation – to take charge of it straight away anyway rather than leaving it until the last minute.

That latter dream was another one of those comfortable, warm dreams that I have occasionally that sound so real. No girl involved in it this time though, which is always a shame.

For the rest of the morning I’ve been doing something that I haven’t done since before I went to Canada at the end of September last year, and that is that I’ve been playing the 5-string fretless bass.

It’s complicated to play because it’s quite heavy, so I can’t play it standing up, and with it being a standard scale bass rather than a short-scale bass like my Gibson EB3 or the Fender in Canada, everything gets in the way, my arms and fingers aren’t long enough and of course my finger fall into different places because of the extra length and width, and there are no frets to guide me.

The 5th string is actually lower than the low E. It’s a low B but I had plans to take off the B string, move the others down one and add a low E guitar string to the top and tune it as I would the lower 5 strings on a 6-string guitar.

Back 20 or so years ago I played (briefly) with a female acoustic folk guitarist and so if there was a solo to play, I had to play it on the bass. And quite often, I would run out of frets so a bass with an additional upper string would have been perfect for that.

So on the bass I’ve been working through my running list and also trying to work my way through the bass lines for THE BARRICADES OF HEAVEN – including the organ riff – and Jethro Tull’s CROSS EYED MARY.

But imagine trying to play “Cross-Eyed Mary” in today’s PC sanitised world. That’s a song that, along with songs like Ted Nugent’s JAILBAIT, Grand Funk Railroad’s SHE GOTTA MOVE ME and Led Zeppelin’s SICK AGAIN, has been consigned to the dustbin of history and we aren’t allowed to mention them any more.

It all reminds me of the book-burning of the 1930s or the smashing up of alcohol in the USA in the 1920s by the Temperance movement.

Seeing as we were talking about Lindisfarne just now … "well, one of us was" – ed … there are plenty of their numbers on my playlist too and I enjoy playing them and singing along. We did a few with the aforementioned young lady acoustic guitar.

Of course, we have to have NO TIME TO LOSE

"Had more than my share of people giving advice
on the way that my life it should be
But look at the country man it’s looking so nice
it’s feeling so good to be free
No time, no time to lose"

Yes, that’s a verse that really strikes a chord with me. “Been there, done that” you might say.

So this afternoon I’ve been playing around with a Lindisfarne concert trying to make some kind of sense of it – a running order or set list would be a good idea for a start – and then I’ve been out gallivanting.

Yes, me socialising! One of my neighbours, the President of the Residents’ Committee, invited me for a chat and to my own surprise I was there for almost 2.5 hours chatting. That’s not like me at all, is it?

Back here I had chips (some were sweet potato too) vegan salad and one of those breadcrumbed soya fillets that I like. And it was delicious as usual.

Now that I’ve finished everything, I’ll dictate the radio notes ready for tomorrow when I’ll edit them and assemble the programme

But there’s a lot to do tomorrow. I’ve run out of pizza dough so I’ll have to make some more. There’s some bread to make too and also that bread-and-butter pudding so I’m going to be busy.

There won’t be much time to play the bass so I might have a go at that tonight. Walls of solid granite 1.2 metres thick have their advantages when it comes to soundproofing.

So I’d better clear off if I want to play the bass "I have no one to call my friend
The road I travel has no end
And so I turn my face up to the sun
And walk on down the road to kingdom come"

Yes, I’m certainly heading that way – sooner rather than later if I don’t cheer myself up.

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Monday 21st June 2021 – I’VE BEEN EXTREMELY …

… active today, and that has surprised me as mush as it has probably surprised you.

sanding down of hull yacht rebelle chantier navale port de Granville harbour Manche Normandy France Eric HallIn fact I’ve been down to the chantier navale this afternoon to have a look around the two boats that are in there.

The yacht Rebelle is still in there of course. It looks as if she is going to be having a new paint job. There’s a guy over there busy sanding down her bottom with one of these big industrial sanders and so I imagine that Rebelle is going to be in there for a good while yet.

But what is interesting about her is her port of registration. She’s registered in London so I’m curious to know what she’s actually doing here in Granville. It’s a very long way to come for a refit and a repaint.

gwenn ha ruz chantier navale port de Granville harbour Manche Normandy France Eric HallThe fishing boat that we’ve seen for the last couple of weeks is actually called Gwenn Ha Ruz

And in case you are wondering what Gwenn Ha Ruz is, it’s actually Breton for “White and Red” and presumably relates to the colour of her hull and superstructure.

And whatever you do, you must not confuse it with Gwenn Ha Du, “Black and White”. These are of course the colours of Brittany and it is also the name of one of these organisations like the Free Wales Army or the irish Republican Army who led a very active life fighting for the liberation of Brittany and doing things like blow up statues and burning down Prefectures.

Although the Organisation was dissolved after World War II, it inspired the Talbenn Dieubiñ Breizh or “Liberation Front of Brittany”, a society that gained a lot of publicity in the 1960s and early 1970s during criminal trials against its leaders and led indirectly to a revival of the Breton culture and language.

But be that as it may, let’s start at the very beginning. Once again I was up at the sound of the first alarm and after the medication I cracked on with the radio programme that I was doing.

Despite stopping for a coffee and a little later for breakfast, I had it all finished and ready to go by 11:45, and I’ll go with that any time.

While I was listening to it and to the programme that will be broadcast this weekend (another live concert) I sorted out the music on the computer. There are piles of various albums and I hadn’t a clue who half of the artists were so I did some research and edited the file names of the songs to add in the artists.

Ad there’s another “various artists” album added to the collection now. I’d bought one in Canada a couple of years ago and hadn’t digitalised it yet. But I have now!

After lunch I spent a very pleasant hour or so editing photos of my trip to Wyoming in August 2019. I’m now in Wind River Canyon on my way back to Winnipeg, where I might arrive in a couple of days given a bit of luck, God’s help and a bobby.

But right now I have to go out to the shops.

patrol boat baie de mont st michel port de Granville harbour Manche Normandy France Eric HallAnd I don’t get very far before I’m side-tracked by some activity out at sea. In fact, probably not even 100 yards.

Just gently passing by the harbour entrance is what looks like one of the French Government’s patrol boats. There is one, called Les Epiettes, that loiters around here and we saw that in July 2020 when we were on the Spirit of Conrad out at the Ile de Chausey but of course I’m not able to tell you whether it’s the same boat.

Whoever she is, she’s towing some kind of boat behind her. That’s not her lifeboat of course – it’s rather too big for that so I wonder what that is all about. It might account for her coming up to the pleasure port – to drop it off at a pontoon.

trawlers waiting to enter inner harbour port de Granville harbour Manche Normandy France Eric HallA little further on along the street I was brought to a shuddering halt again.

It looks as if I’ve arrived here just at the right moment. The harbour gates that control the mouth of the harbour are closed but judging by the gaggle of trawlers hanging around down there, the gates are about to open.

Once the gates are open the trawlers will swarm through into the inner harbour and go and unload round the back of the Fish Processing Plant.

Down the hill in the Boulevard des Terreneuviers I went and ended up at the chantier navale where I took the photos that you saw a little earlier.

From the chantier navale I headed off into town.

diver with aqualung port de Granville harbour Manche Normandy France Eric Hallmy little trek was interrupted by this strange sight at the inner harbour.

It looks as if one of the boats needs some work doing below the waterline because we have a diver complete with aqualung walking around on the pontoons. And so I said to him “don’t you start away, uneasy. You poor old sod, you see it’s only me”.

Down the road I went towards the town centre. At the Super U I bought a lettuce because that which I had brought home from Leuven was dead, and also some of that dried and candied fruit that I stick in my fruit bread. I’ve run out of Liz’s cake so I need to make some more fruit bread.

Over the road I went to the pharmacy where I stocked up on medication with the prescription from my GP. And it’s a good job that I didn’t collect that three months’ supply in Leuven because my GP has prescribed me three months’ worth of medication. Now I have enough to sink a ship and that’s exactly what I wanted.

While I was out there I kept on colliding with a couple who must have visited every shop in the town trying to find some “Eskimo” ice cream.

swimming pool port de Granville harbour Manche Normandy France Eric HallLoaded up now with more stuff than I intended to bring home, I climbed up the hill in the Rue Des Juifs on my way home.

Half-way up the hill where the viewpoint is overlooking the loading bay I had a look down there to see what was going on. The swimming pool is there so we can assume that Normandy Trader has yet to put her sooty foot in the harbour.

However there seems to be nothing else lined up on the quayside so maybe she isn’t going to be coming in for a few days yet.

While we’re on the subject, on a few occasions Thora used to come into port with a load of scrap iron – old lorries, tractors, all kinds of metal. But I’ve not seen any of that lined up on the quayside for quite a while. Perhaps the price of scrap has dropped.

demolition of unsafe staircase square potel Granville Manche Normandy France Eric HallMeanwhile, there’s some kind of activity going on across the road in the Square Potel.

Regular readers of this rubbish will recall that in early summer 2020 the stairway that led down to the Square from up on the wall was closed off to the public as being unsafe. A while later, the spending plan of the town stated that restoration work on the stairs and the repointing of the wall would take place in 2020.

But looking at the little low wall around the Square, that’s been renovated and repointed, and the stairs have been brought down, presumably by that digger that’s there. So they are getting going with this earlier than planned, by the looks of things.

In a couple of weeks time it will be interesting to see how the square will look as the renovations proceed.

While we’re on the subject of proceeding, I proceeded on up the hill towards home.

people on beach rue du nord Granville Manche Normandy France Eric HallWhen I arrived at my building I carried on across the car park to look down onto the beach to see what was going on down there this afternoon.

There’s even less beach than there was yesterday but nevertheless there are some people down there on the rocks. They look as if they have been in the sea for a swim and they are braver people than me.

Back in my apartment I made myself a coffee and then went to listen to the dictaphone. There is stuff on there for the last four days which I transcribed and one of these days I’ll add in the detains to the previous three days whenever I can find a moment. I might actually have done it today but I … errr … had a little relax while I was riding the porcelain horse.

As for last night I was playing in a pop group last night, playing bass. I’d gone and bought myself a new cabinet, a 300-watt combo things. I was working out first of all how to make a cover for it out of plywood or something. Then I took it up onto the stage, took the cover off and took the plug out of my little amp and plugged it into the back of this big machine and started to play. The sound was so much better, as you might expect for the money but there was a flat spot where I played two notes but you could hear it waling down the street. Some guy had brought a …. I fell asleep here for 7.5 minutes … so where was I? Anyway, I had this bass cabinet and was playing it. Some Irish guy had this weird mouth harp thing but he was playing it but wasn’t getting any sound out of it. We were all joking about him getting more and more frustrated until suddenly he opened the top of it and found that he should be inserting a battery in there – a big PP9 battery from the 1950s.
But while I was asleep just now I was in Caliburn and I was in a seaside town looking up on a cliff. I was driving back to the town but I lost my way and ended up on a street full of semi-detached bungalows, obviously second holiday homes, all closed up and everything. Then I went back to the main road and back down the hill. There was a big chalk quarry with a couple of huge trees that had been blown down with the explosives and there were probably 1000 hunters there with guns. I had to thread my way through as I was on foot by this time. As I reached the other side I met two people – they might have been two people from work. I said to Lucien “I don’t fancy anyone’s chances here. As someone sees a squirrel there is 1000 people shooting at it. The skin is going to be no use for anything and the meat is going to be riddled with lead. But they were really lucky because they saw something moving and they were just about to shoot and it turned out to be a cat. Some little kids had to go and try to catch the cat or chase it away.

There was the hour on the guitar while I picked my way note by note through the bass lines of one of the tracks that I need to learn, and then for tea it was veggie balls with pasta and veg followed by apple turnover, which was delicious.

Now I’m going to prepare some dough for my fruit bread, and then I’m off to bed. Welsh lesson tomorrow – the last of the Academic year – so I need to be on form.

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Thursday 14th June 2018 – I HAD AN EXCITING …

… e-mail today.

It’s from Nikon and it concerns the repair of my camera lens (which was the subject of a factory recall, as regular readers of this rubbish may remember). It’s the report of the examination of the lens to see if it falls within the guarantee, and the bill for any repair.

It tells me that it indeed a guarantee repair, and that the amount payable is €0:00.

It goes on to tell me that

  • I need to pay this before 15th August, or else interest of 10% per annum will be levied.
  • I can’t have my lens until I’ve paid the bill.
  • if my lens is retained after the 15th August there’s a storage charge of €40:00.

Therefore I have sent them an e-mail asking them for their advice in making payment. Do I pay with cash, cheque, banker’s order or credit card?

And I am awaiting their reply with interest.

We’ve also had a day of neighbourly interaction. I walked into town with one neighbour, and met another one while I was down there.

But first of all, I beat the alarm clock this morning. That is, I was awake before it went off, and that is not of course the same as saying that I was out of bed. That was slightly (yes, only slightly) later.

And a nice hot shower after breakfast and a change of clothes to make myself look pretty, and then off to town.

emma barthère photo exhibition place maurice marland granville manche normandy franceRemember the other day when I showed you the photographs that had mysteriously appeared on the city walls in the Place Maurice Marland?

Well, here they are erecting some more a little bit further along the walls. It’s going to be some exhibition.

And while I was standing on the wall overlooking the harbour taking this photo I fell in with one of my neighbours. She was on her way to the chemist’s for some medicines so we walked into town together.

poubelles granville manche normandy franceFrom there I walked on up the hill to LIDL and I was in luck by the railway station.

We have central rubbish collection points here in Granville where we recycle our refuse. But the collection points look so small that many people wonder how we cope.

The answer is that they are icebergs. Only one-tenth of the thing is above the surface and the rest is submerged. And there they are lifting a recycling bin out of the ground to empty into the refuse lorry.

Apparently the lorry does the paper one week, the glass another week and the general refuse the third week, or something like that.

passage piéton avenue des vendeens granville manche normandy franceThe roadworks in the Avenue des Vendéens are well-advanced and the road is open now in both directions.

They are working on the pavements now and there’s at least one car driver that is going to have a big surprise. Remember the car that we saw the other day parked across the pedestrian crossing? The driver isn’t going to be able to do that down the Avenue des Vendéens because the council is actively taking steps to prevent it.

And quite right too, if you ask me.

At LIDL I spent a little more money than I anticipated. Firstly, they had some giant cable ties on offer. And Iw as thinking yesterday that a couple of those would come in handy for fastening Caliburn’s fire extinguisher instead of having it rolling around the floor.

But more importantly, they had one of these Italian expresso coffee makers, the kind that you put on the hotplate to boil up and the steam pressure decants it. Being married to a girl who is half-Italian, I grew to like those very much.

I have one here but it’s not been used for years because it wouldn’t work on my induction hob so it’s in a pretty miserable condition. But this new hob that I bought the other week will work it just fine.

Back into town on my way home and I bumped into another neighbour, likewise on her way to the chemist’s. So I went with her and afterwards I invited her for a coffee. We were there for hours and when I returned here afterwards I found that it was actually lunchtime. It’s not like me to be this sociable, is it?

The weather was rather cloudy, overcast and windy. Not the day for sitting on the wall watching the world go by. I had my butties in here. And then I carried on updating the second (actually the first) page about my trip to the desert.

A long session on the guitar (I have to get weaving) and my afternoon walk as well.

Tea was a burger in a bap with baked potato and vegetables. I’ve now run out of carrots (LIDL didn’t have any loose ones and a big pack of them won’t keep) so I’ll have to invent something for tomorrow.

emma barthère photo exhibition place maurice marland granville manche normandy franceThe usual walk around the walls, and all is revealed. We can now see what this wooden framework was for.

Yes, more photos.

And I can tell you something about the photographer too. She’s called Emma Barthère, born in 1982 at the foot of the Pyrenees Mountains, which must have been pretty uncomfortable for her mother.

At the age of 20 (ie 2002) she went to study in Paris and after 10 years of Parisian frenzy she abandoned everything and came to Granville in 2015. And if you can work that one out, please let me know.

As for the rest of her biography, I have at times been accused of writing pretentious prose … "you, Eric? Surely not!" – ed … but I can’t hold a candle to Emma Barthère, that’s for sure.

I’m going to try for another early night, but I’m stuck once again with Aqualung and Benefit. That means A Passion Play, Stand Up and Thick as a Brick are due to follow. Five of the best rock albums ever recorded.

And you know what that means, don’t you?

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Tuesday 5th June 2018 – TODAY HAS BEEN A DAY …

… of neighbourly interaction. That’s where all the time has gone.

Coming back from my lunch upon the wall overlooking the harbour, I noticed one of my neighbours out weeding the gravel in front of the building. It’s not right to be impolite … "it’s never bothered you before" – ed … so I went over to chat with her and was there for over half an hour.

A little later, coming back from town, I bumped into another neighbour on his way to run an errand, so we had another half-hour chat during which we put the world to rights.

But the French say, jamais deux sans trois and sure enough, on my way out for my afternoon walk, there was Gribouille the ginger cat. And he actually came running across the gravel to me so that I could pick him up and stroke him. About 10 minutes this time.

It was yet another effort to haul myself out of bed this morning, but at least I managed not to fall asleep after breakfast, which makes a change for just recently.

And today, it’s been a tidying-up day. Although first, I had to start to pack ready for my trip to Belgium tomorrow. And something is very wrong because I don’t seem to have very much that I’m taking.

Another thing that I need to do is to work out a route to the Prefecture de Police in the rue des Morillons. Regular readers of this rubbish will recall that the wallet that I lost in December has turned up at the Police Station and I have to go to pick it up.

It’s something of a hike and I can see me being very pushed for time. If the train is late I shall be snookered so I can’t afford to hang around looking for streets, especially with the perturbations on the Metro.

Tidying up, I said. That involved some (but not by any means all) of the papers that are hanging around here. There’s still plenty to do but if you don’t start, you won’t ever finish. So at least we’ve set off.

And then another task.

Regular readers of this rubbish will recall that I’ve spent about a year looking for some images on a missing hard drive, and that I finally found it the other day. Back in the winter I bought a huge new 4TB external hard drive with the aim of putting all of my images on them – all … errr … 2.5TB or so of them. I’ve been a busy little bee over the last 20-odd years.

And so I finally made a start on it. But have you any notion of how long it’s going to take? I started at about 11:30 this morning and 11 hours later I’ve moved 755GB. In other words, I’m going to be here for the Duration while this project organises itself.

As well as the usual walks this afternoon and this evening, I’ve been into town for a baguette for tomorrow’s lunch. I need to organise that too as I won’t have time tomorrow. And I had a little … errr … relax. But then 71% of my daily activity, I’m entitled to a brief 10 minutes.

Tea was the Bombay potatoes that I mentioned yesterday. And I’m getting good at these because they were delicious

I was going to finish off by having a really early night, but now Aqualung has just appeared on the playlist. That means that we are in for another Jethro Tull muisicfest and the last time that this occurred, I was still wide awake at 05:40.

But I hope not. Much as I love Jethro Tull I can do without it tonight. I have a lot to do tomorrow and it’s an early start.

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Saturday 5th May 2018 – THIS ISN’T WORKING …

… out like it ought to.

This evening on the way out to the football I stopped off at the station to pick up my train tickets for Ruesday. And with the times being all messed up on there, I went into the ticket office to confirm the departure times.
“But that train’s not running!” said the cashier
“Why not?” I enquired
“Because there’s a strike on Tuesday”.
“So what hapens now?”
“Well, we can change this one (the departure from Granville) to Monday.”
“What about the Paris to Brussels?”
“That’s not changeable”
“But I bought the two at the same time. And if I can’t get to Paris because of your problems, then I certainly can’t get from Paris, can I?”
And so we had a very long discussion which ended with me having to go back tomorrow evening sometime between 17:00 and 19:15 when the service diagrams for Tuesday will be published.

In the meantime, I suppose that I had better think of a Plan B.

But all of this sums up my day because it hasn’t been very good.

It all started to go wrong last night when I was planning to go to bed and A Passion Play turned up on the hi-fi. And so I sat in the dark and listened to it. And then in not-so-quick succession we had Aqualung, Benefit, Stand Up and Thick as a Brick. 5 of the best rock albums ever recorded of course.

By the time that they had all finished (and I played a couple of them twice) it was 05:40 and getting light. No chance of getting up at 06:20 so I switched off the alarms and went to bed.

11:30 is much more like a time to leave the bed after a night like that – not that I regret it of course for good music is good music – but it meant that I had missed my trip to the shops. Still you can’t win a coconut every time.

Breakfast was therefore very late and I lounged around for a couple of hours listening to the radio and laughing at the Clayheads who are relegated from the Premier League. And then I nipped into town for a pizza base for tomorrow’s tea.

Back here there was more football as the season draws to a conclusion and then I headed off out, via the railway station.

football cite des sports us granville us mortainaise manche normandy franceAt the Cité des Sports US Granvillaise’s 3rd XI were playing US Mortainaise, hopelessly adrift at the foot of the Basse-Normandie Division 1. Their trainer told me that with the beautiful weather three of their players, including the goalkeeper, had gone harvesting and another half-dozen has gone away for a long weekend.

And so they had 11 players (and no substitutes). And the goalkeeper – well, three Tommy Lawrences could have fitted inside his jersey and you could have fitted at least two Jon Scullions inside the jersey of the n°8, who touched the ball three times in the whole 90 minutes.

The result was therefore a foregone conclusion and the game was over after 25 minutes with Granville 3-0 up. And then Granville switched off and strolled leisurely around the park with the ball.

They scored another just before half-time, a fifth after about an hour, and rattled in two more near the end as Mortain ran completely out of steam.

But that’s not all the story. It’s really no exaggeration that Granville could have had half a dozen more from the chances that they created. On one occasion the ball bobbled around the Mortain penalty area like a pinball, bouncing off the keeper, the woodwork twice, a couple of defenders and a couple of attackers before bouncing away to safety.

And the miss of the match, of the season and probably of the century came from a beautiful ball over the top to the Granville trainer (who had come on for a run-around near the end) who beat the offside trap all ends up, advanced on the goal, rounded the keeper and squares it across the goalmouth to the n°7 about three yards out with an open goal in front of him. And the n°7 whacks it with all his might – up into the crossbar and back upfield. Anyone who remembers the famous John Aldridge “goal that never was” – well, this was 10 times better than that.

What was even more disappointing was that had Granville really tried hard instead of messing about, we could have had a cricket score here. And Granville need to learn how to concentrate on a match for the whole 90 minutes and demolish opposition like this.

I walked back here (114% of my daily activity) and made a plate of pasta and vegetables cooked in olive oil, which was delicious.

Now it’ll be bed-time. And I’m hoping for a better night than last night.

And final word goes to the sunburn that I picked up in Africa. My skin is now all peeling. Coming off in shreds.

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Tuesday 13th March 2018 – SHAME AS IT IS TO ADMIT IT …

… I couldn’t even last out the morning today.

And it’s not as if I’d had a late night or anything, and it’s not as if I’d been on an enormous voyage during the night either. Just into one of the rooms on this 3D site that I mentioned just recently.

But I had the medication and the breakfast etc, and a shower, shave and even a haircut today to get ready to go. And then I sat down with a mug of coffee.

Next thing that I remember was that it was 10:30 – I’d been well and truly out for a good 90 minutes. And in the morning too. This is certainly not like me. I could understand it a little if I had been out already to the railway station, but not at all.

You’ve no idea just how much this is dismaying me.

But anyway, in the bright sunlight (because it really was nice) I headed uptown to the railway station and picked up my tickets without a hitch. Mind you, there will be a hitch coming home on Saturday because works on the line are forecast. That’s not nice.

On the way back I called at that good boulangerie to pick up a couple of those tasty baguettes. One was for lunch today but the other one is for my butties for the road tomorrow. And nice the bread is too.

After lunch I hd a few things to do on the internet and to download a couple of things onto the laptop that I take with me on my travels. And then a bit (just a little bit) of packing ready for tomorrow.

And the usual session on the bass guitar – and trying to work out the bass line from “Wind Up” off the Aqualung album by Jethro Tull – one of the albums that has to be in the top 10 of anyone’s list. Everyone immediately thinks of the title track to that album, and good as it might be, in my opinion “Locomotive Breath” and “Wind Up” have to be two of the best rock tracks of all time. And I’m determined to work out the bass lines to both of them, even if Jeffrey Hammond is a hard act to follow.

Tea tonight was the rest of the home-made stuffing with a tin of kidney beans all filled into a couple of tortilla wraps with spicy rice. And delicious they were too of course. And then we had the walk in the beautiful evening. It really was nice outside considering the time of the year.

And so an early night tonight. I have to be on my way quite early – something like 07:45 – as my train is timed for 08:34.

I am not going to enjoy this one little bit.

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Sunday 28th January 2018 – I WAS SOMEWHAT …

… premature yesterday with my comments about my new smartphone. We’re back with this “inability to message” again.

I know that I am receiving SMS messages because I set a special tone for them. But where they are going, I have no idea, because they aren’t coming up on the screen.

And then I’m not able to message out. The “Messenger” program that I downloaded simply won’t send them, and when I try with the default message program, I have an error message “no SIM card is allocated to SMS messages”. And in settings, it shows one SIM card in my phone – the “second SIM card” is greyed out because of course it’s empty, and the “change SIM” option is likewise greyed out.

So it looks like a visit to the service provider yet again tomorrow.

GRRRRR!

And I was right about the night last night – well, almost. It wasn’t 05:00 when I awoke but 05:25 instead. But leave my stinking pit at that time of the morning? Not on your nellus secundus. 09:35, that’s much more like it on a Sunday.

And I’d been on my travels too. Sitting in a sloping field close to a stone wall reading a book, and a group of children led by some old woman came past and started to chat to me. And a surprisingly intellectual chat it was too for a bunch of kids of that age.
Later, I was back home again and our eight cats (yes, eight) were feeding. And feeding with Tuppence (and anyone who remembers Tuppence will see just how impossible that might have been) was a big black-and-white cat, which certainly wasn’t one of mine. And so I asked my partner what it was doing here, and just received an enigmatic smile.

After breakfast, I vegetated around for a while (well, it IS Sunday), chatting to TOTGA who came on the air.

And once lunch was out of the way I set off on foot in the light drizzle.

rugby cité des sports granville manche normandy franceAll the way out to the Sports Centre on the edge of town.

It was another agonising climb up the hill, and then the long walk along the plateau to the Sports Centre. Three pitches there are here, and one was set up for rugby, with the rugby team warming up prior to a match.

Not that it interests me at all – I have no time for games played by men with odd-shaped balls.

football us granville uc bricquebec cité des sports granville manche normandy franceUS GRanville’s second XI was playing, and the match had been transferred to the artificial surface here so at least we had some live football this weekend.

US Granville, who were third in the table and in white, were playing UC Bricquebec who were propping up the rest of the clubs in the table. And for the first half of the match, that’s exactly how it went.

Granville’s wingers, one of whom (the n°7) was called Alexis apparently, were tearing the defenders to shreds down the flanks and the score after 45 minutes of 4-0 was not an exaggeration either. I don’t recall Granville’s keeper having anything serious to do

But at half-time UC Bricuebec made three substitutions which, while not improving the team to the slightest degree, seemed to unsettle US GRanville and they looked as if they had lost their composure.

It took ages for them to get back up to steam before they scored a fifth, and then, unbelievably, they missed a penalty. And that seemed to knock the fight out of them. And even more astonishingly the trainer took off the n°7 after an hour, and with that, US Granville’s attack melted away.

UC Briquebec looked much more like it after that and gave the US Granville defence a few dodgy moments – even scoring from a penalty.

But the scoreline of 5-1 is good enough, although it could have been so much more.

rainstorm jullouville granville manche normandy franceThe light drizzle seemed to ease off on the way home, but I noticed that away in the distance over Jullouville they were having a pasting again. This weather really is miserable.

I came back and had a coffee and a little play on the guitar. I’d been listening to Aqualung – one of the finest rock albums ever made, and I had worked out in my head the bass line to the title track.

So I tracked down a copy on the laptop and played along to it for a while. Brought back many happy memories, that did.

And if I keep going like this, I shall have to start looking for a band.

Vegan pizza again for tea (and I forgot the olives) and then another walk. I’m at 114% of my daily activity which is good news of course.

And now bed-time. We’ll see if this alarm on the new phone works as well as the last one.

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Monday 15th January 2018 – IT GOES …

… without saying that this morning didn’t go according to plan, doesn’t it?

In fact, as regular readers of this rubbish will recall, I’m continually being confounded by issues not of my own making and I have to go to extraordinary lengths to circumvent them.

Just for a change, I was awake before the alarm went off, but that’s not quite the same as saying that I was ready to leave the bed. In fact it was something of a struggle to haul myself out of my stinking pit.

Fist thing though was the urine sample. Despite a thorough search this last few days I’ve not found the report from Leuven so I had to go through the procedure here. That’s what I call “taking the P155”. Then I could have my medication and once that worked, I could have my breakfast.

There was a form to fill in to take to the laboratory and that involved some tracking down of stuff too. But once I’d done that I could set off. Into the howling gale and driving rainstorm. After the couple of nice days that we have had, it goes without saying that as I’m out and about on foot we are going to have this kind of weather, doesn’t it?

First stop was the Mobile phone repairer. Having been told that he was back today I made this my first port of call. But as I really ought to have expected, it’s Monday today and many places are closed in France on a Monday – the mobile phone repairer included.

Next stop was the mairie. The doctor who is doing my medical examination told me that I could find some forms here. But according to the mairie, not any more. The forms are available to download on line.

But at least this means that I need to take some decisive action to resolve the cable issues that I’m having with my printer. The tag that holds the plug in place has broken off so the plug won’t stay connected. I shall have to invent a means of locking it in position, or even making a direct connection.

But it’s just typical of Hewlett Knackered. They can’t use standard infinity plugs like anyone else – they have to go for something really fancy and complicated that breaks under the slightest pressure and renders the machine unusable (unless you have a devious mind of course).

Hiking up to the laboratory (which is just on the station roundabout) I was running out of steam – I clearly haven’t recovered from my health. And the bad news is that the lack of this urine sample means that I’ve had to pay €6:80. no wonder I’m spending a fortune with being so unprepared.

On the way back I picked up a baguette and then staggered back up the hill to here – thoroughly exhausted and thoroughly soaked to the skin – to such an extent that I had to change my trousers.

And just for a change, I had a coffee. First one (apart from some warm brown liquid at the football the other week) since I’ve been back from Leuven. And it tasted awful.

Soup with pasta and bulghour for lunch again, with some of the fresh bread (the rest went into the freezer) and then I had a relaxing afternoon not doing very much, although I did have a good session on the bass guitar. To my surprise, some of the stuff that we used to play 40-odd years ago came back into my mind.

For tea tonight, I made a huge curry – the first one for a while. Mushrooms, peppers and because it didn’t make as much as I was hoping, a tin of sweet corn. One helping tonight and four more for the freezer.

My evening walk was a disappointment. Pouring with rain still and a howling gale. So I just did a short lap around the streets and came home. No sense in risking another attack of Bronchitis.

Anyway, tomorrow I’m off down to town again to see if this mobile phone repairer is finally going to make it back to his shop. He better had be because it’s getting my goat.

And the music?

For most of the day we’ve had Jethro Tull going round. If I really had to choose one group to be my favourite, it would have to be Jethro Tull. It takes me back to my school days and Benefit, Stand Up, Aqualung, Thick as a Brick and A Passion Play – the latter two albums being so good that it took the critics 30 years to realise it.

Those five albums, and many others that they released subsequently, have been on my playlist for getting on for 50 years and won’t ever lose their place. Other bands and artists may come and go but Jethro Tull will always be there

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Tuesday 23rd December 2014 – I’VE FINISHED …

stairs up to attic les guis virlet puy de dome france … the stairs up to the attic.

Well, as a matter of fact, I haven’t really. All of the wood has been cut and shaped, that’s for sure, but they haven’t been nailed into place. This is because the filler that I used on the screw holes took quite a while to dry. I wanted it to dry before I nailed down the stair treads, because access is so much easier to sand down the filler, paste the wallpaper and paint everywhere when the treads aren’t in place.

Not only that, I can put the varnish on the stair treads and risers before I nail them down too, and that will be another task completed. I’ll have two lovely shelves when they are finished and I can start to stack away the china and so on.

I had plenty of fun cutting the treads though. Two of them had to be cut by trial and error because taking measurements on the slant was not very easy. And much to my surprise, it all fitted where it ought to do.

We also had another Alpine day today and I had almost 60 amps of surplus solar energy today, with the water in the home-made 12-volt immersion heater that I use as a dump loa reaching 33°C, which is the highest that it’s been for a considerable time.

In other news, you can imagine that with the events of the couple of nights over the weekend, about which I talked at the relevant moment, I’ve been on something of a nostalgia trip, spending a lot of time musing on events that happened, didn’t happen, could have happened, might have happened and what I would have liked to have happened at a certain moment in my life. This wasn’t helped today because the *.mp3 player reached the point where five particular albums suddenly presented themselves, one after the other,

These five albums, Benefit, Aqualung, A Passion Play and Thick as a Brick by Jethro Tull and Nicely Out Of Tune by Lindisfarne, were five albums that were being played non-stop by a certain few of us during this particular 18-month period and it must be something more than just coincidence that they suddenly appeared, one ofter the other, at the time when I have all of this nonsense going on in my head.

It’s all becoming quite eerie.

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