Tag Archives: misha

Sunday 20th February 2022 – JUST FOR A CHANGE …

… today has been one of those days when I have done nothing at all whatever of any importance.

In fact, it’s been so relaxing that I’ve even forgotten to transcribe the dictaphone notes, as I have just found out. That’s something that I have to do tomorrow after my radio programme is finished.

And when I did, I hadn’t realised just how much there was. I started off with my youngest sister last night but first of all we were in a huge house or something like a castle that was built on a rock. I’d seen a vehicle pull up and I knew whose it was and I knew whom he might have been to see down somewhere else in the building. Later on I climbed down the outside of the building and right the way down the rocks at the bottom where there was a courtyard and there were quite a few people in there having a party, including the woman concerned. It was the mother of a girl whom I know from the Auvergne and who had accompanied me on a few nocturnal rambles in the distant past. I could see that with this party she had obviously known that this guy had been here so I just briefly mentioned it in passing. Then we were chatting away. I thought that I might have been invited to this party but no I wasn’t. I went somewhere else from there and ended up inside and had my sister sitting on my knee. We were chatting about this and that and having quite a bit of fun because she was quite young and I like children of that age so it was all very pleasant. I asked if by any chance my niece and one of her daughters were coming over from Canada. She replied “no they aren’t coming over this year. They came over three times last year and and your brother (who she meant to me) had bean teasing that girl (she meant the one from the Auvergne) about she was having to go into boarding school”. There was a lot more to it than this that I can’t remember.

Something else bizarre happened last night. I don’t know what it was but these two people picked me up, dragged me off and started to interrogate me about something that had happened. I knew nothing about it but they were quite insistent that I did. In the end I had to sign all of these affidavits etc to say that I hadn’t done anything and they were going to give me some money. But they deducted some money for this and some money for that and some money for something else and I ended up with only about 60% of it. But then thinking on it was 60% more than I would have received anyway so maybe it was a good deal although it was something of anguish at the time and rather nerve-wracking as they were quite insistent. In the end I walked away with some cash so I don’t suppose that it could have been too bad and I’m still trying to work out exactly what it was that happened.

There was something else at some point too about a load of new people coming to work in our office so I’d been trying to wrangle a transfer. I was wandering, talking to a few people saying that I hope that they’ll give me a transfer but it won’t be to somewhere exciting like Caithness or Skipton or somewhere like that but to another one of our offices in Stoke on Trent somewhere and that won’t be any good at all.

Laurence and I had been out around Nantwich somewhere wandering around and we came to some kind of museum so we went in for 5 minutes for a quick look around. It was quite nice and I thought that this would be a good place to bring Roxanne. She said “but it would be snowing tomorrow”. I replied “I don’t necessarily mean tomorrow and in any case it’s indoors so she would probably enjoy it anyway”. So we went back out but there was a problem with the trams so we would have to catch a bus. It turned out that there was one in 4 minutes’ time, probably because there was something going on at the cathedral and they had the road up. She set off while I sorted out the tickets and then ran after the tram, which sometimes was a tram, sometimes a bus, and leapt aboard. There was a severely handicapped girl manoeuvring around but I was fighting my way in trying to find Nerina because I was with her now but she wasn’t there. Someone said something like she had just alighted but by this time the bus had started moving. I stayed on but people started to talk about Nerina. Then this vehicle ended up in the wilds somewhere because the normal way home through Wistaston, there was a fight going on between a big group of people and so we must take another way. All the people were running down the street trying to catch up with this bus or something. The driver told me that he was rather confused about where to go so I replied “if you turn right here you’ll end up in Ganshoren and go back over to Jette”. He turned right but it was a road that I didn’t know at all but I saw a sign for Woluwe so I assumed that we were somewhere along the correct road somewhere. All the time this nonsense was going on. We then came to a new part in this road that was even more confusing than what we had come to before and it was a case of guesswork as to which road to take when we reached a certain road junction.

And even later still I was on yet another bus in Belgium. There were a lot of people talking. The subject came round to petrol stations. Someone was saying that there are far fewer petrol stations in Belgium than there ever used to be. She pointed to a Delhaize supermarket that we drove past on the corner of the street and said that in the old days that used to be 2 petrol stations. The talk continued and I noticed one of the people looking at me so I said “excuse me but I’m a foreigner and I’m really interested in what you’re saying”. The carried on talking and in the end we arrived at the terminus and we all had to alight. Someone said to one of the girls “why don’t you take him (meaning me) and show him (something or other)”. She replied “OK” and took me off. It was a shop and she took me down into the basement. I had a wander round in there. Suddenly she started to bake a cake. I wasn’t taking a great deal of notice but when she finished I asked “how did you bake a cake without any eggs in it?”. She replied “I’ve just made this one without any eggs”. I suddenly realised that she had as well and I wished that I had taken more notice of what it was that she was doing. Meanwhile the server from down there came up and said “thank you for being so disorganised. You’ve made me miss my break and you’ve made me have problems serving one of the customers” to which we replied “maybe we’ll offer the customer a piece of cake and it might make them feel better.

After all of that it’s no surprise that I stayed in bed until 10:30 this morning, even though I was wide-awake a long time earlier than that. But Sunday is a day for mending the nets.

After the medication I sat down and paired up the music for the next radio programme that I’ll be preparing tomorrow. And a couple of the joints that I made are totally perfect and I’m well-impressed.

After lunch, I had a football match to watch. While I was in Aachen last Saturday I missed Caernarfon Town v Bala Town in the Welsh Premier League and I have deliberately refrained subsequently from watching any highlights.

This atfernoon I managed to track down the complete game on the internet and so I watched it. I shan’t say anything about the game because, quite frankly, it was one of the most exciting games that I have ever seen. Maybe some of my readers are football fans and if so, you’ll really enjoy this game. It’s at THIS LINK with, rarely, a commentary in English but, unfortunately, with a couple of holes in the recording.

One thing that I will say is that I found the comments of the commentators concerning the Caernarfon Town’s goalkeeper most inappropriate.

Regular readers of this rubbish will recall that in my youth I was a goalkeeper, although nothing whatever like at this standard, and I’ll promise you that an 18 year-old kid keeping goal in a howling gale against grown men, some of whom have been capped for Wales, is always going to be advised to punch instead of catch when he’s surrounded by other players in a crowded penalty area, whatever the commentators might think.

people on beach rue du nord Granville Manche Normandy France Eric Hall photo February 2022That took me up to the time that I usually go out for my afternoon walk.

As usual, the first port of call was the wall at the end of the car park to see what was happening down below. And to my surprise, there were dozens of people down there going for a walk around.

In this photo are just a few of them, but why this particular view is that there is something on the sand on the extreme left. It seems to be something with a handle but no matter how I enlarged and enhanced it, I can’t make out what it was.

It’s interesting to conjecture that it might be some kind of flotsam and jetsam tossed onto the beach by the storm but I’m not quite sure how likely that would be.

lighthouse semaphore people on path pointe du roc Granville Manche Normandy France Eric Hall photo February 2022As well as crowds on the beach, there were also crowds wandering around on the path on top of the cliffs

And strangely enough, despite the storm warning of the other day, I will bet that the winds this afternoon when I was out were stronger than those during the storm when I was out that afternoon.

There wasn’t anyone out at the headland though and that was no surprise. The wind certainly took away my breath and would have taken away the breath of anyone else sitting down there on the bench by the cabanon vauban.

There was a couple struggling along in the distance on the lower path, and “struggling” was certainly the word in this wind.

people on sea wall port de Granville harbour Manche Normandy France Eric Hall photo February 2022Once I’d gone round the corner to the other side of the headland we were in a wind shadow so it was much easier to move around.

There were quite a few people walking around on the harbour wall too, and with the tide being right out it was probably as safe as it can be. But in a few hours’ time when the tide is right in it might be a different proposition entirely. The seagull was enjoying itself anyway.

One thing that I noticed was the hold hand-powered crane down at the end of the harbour wall. I must have seen it before because I’ve often walked down there in the olden days when I could walk places, but I don’t remember it.

joly france ferry terminal port de Granville harbour Manche Normandy France Eric Hall photo February 2022Meanwhile, over at the ferry terminal we now have two ferry boats. The newer Joly France boat has come along to join her older sister.

They must have been quite busy this weekend despite the bad weather, so hats off to those who have gone down to the sea in ships.

Back in the apartment I had a hot coffee waiting for me and I couldn’t wait to drink it. Although it’s not cold, according to the temperature, I’m freezing.

And I’ve been freezing for several weeks and I don’t know why. I keep on thinking that I’m sickening for something but it’s certainly taking its time arriving.

After lunch I took out a lump of dough from the freezer and left it to defrost.

Later on this afternoon when it had defrosted I gave it a kneading and then rolled it out onto the tray where it proofed to its heart’s content.

vegan pizza place d'armes Granville Manche Normandy France Eric Hall photo February 2022When it was ready I assembled it and stuck it in the oven to bake.

And I do have to say that today’s effort was the best pizza that I have ever made. Cooked to perfection (unlike my previous effort) and tasted totally delicious.

So now that I’ve written my notes I’m off to bed. I’m up early in the morning and I have a radio programme to prepare. And then there’s a letter to write, and I need to nip into town to post it.

No physiotherapy for 10 days though. She’s on holiday so I can have a few days off. And I need it too.

Tuesday 20th July 2021 – I’VE DONE SOMETHING …

… today that I vowed never to do – but needs must when the devil drives as we all know.

What I did was to change the times of the alarms from 06:00 etc to 08:00 etc and try for a decent lie-in to make sure that i’d be fighting fit for my course today.

The lie-in bit worked, I suppose, but the fighting fit bit didn’t – by the time that the lesson ended I was feeling rather groggy.

marite baie de mont st michel Granville Manche Normandy France Eric HallBut while I might not have been fighting fit today, something else was.

Having a good sail around the Baie de Mont St Michel with a load of passengers on board was none other than Marité. She seemed to be coping quite well and she’s 30-odd years older than me.

In case you are wondering, she’s the last of the Newfoundland Grand Banks wooden fishing trawlers built in 1921 if I remember correctly. When her service was over she was sold a couple of times and finally rescued by an Association here.

She’s been fully restored and is licensed to carry passengers for hire, and that’s how she makes her living.

But I’m not going to be able to make a living the way I’m going on with this fatigue that’s getting me right down.

It might have helped had I had a continuous 8-hour sleep, but I noticed that there was some stuff on the dictaphone from the night.

I had to go to work down in London so I had to leave my old office so I went into there and thanked them all, particularly one group wit whom I worked. Then Nerina and I got into the car and headed off. I was telling Nerina a little about my house but not too much as I wanted to surprise her about the house that I had down in the south that was about 10 minutes from Croydon on the train. We drove down there and ended up at my house which was a 3-bedroom semi just like Gainsborough Road except that it was in the middle of a row. It had a garage and I showed her around the garden and took her indoors and had a look round. She came back and said “it’s better than I thought it would be, judging by the way you were telling me”. She started talking about how she would want a job. I replied “with 10 minutes on the train to Croydon you can find any kind of job you like”. So we started to open the post, there was some post there. One was a bill and then a reminder saying that they were going to cut my electricity all for £60:00 for three months that I’d been living there but hadn’t had a bill or anything so Nerina wanted a job and I said that we could find one for her quite easily.
Something else that occurred in this dream and I don’t know if I mentioned it … “you didn’t” – ed … but in the back garden of this house I had BILL BADGER up on ramps and the back wheels off while I was checking the brakes but it looked as if I’d backed him up into next door’s garden partly so Nerina and I put the wheels on with the aim of dropping it on the ground and pushing it forward away from next door’s garden. Somewhere in there Rosemary appeared as well. She’d been a taxi driver and had picked up a fare at Crewe Station to go to Battersea so she had taken the opportunity to go to her house which was in Main Road Shavington near the Elephant and Castle to pick up some paperwork that she needed to take to London so she had gone that way to Battersea. I met her when she was back. She had one of these Dacia – the vans, there’s an estate car version of the Dacia van and she had one of those.

What’s interesting about all of this is, as I have probably said before, that I haven’t seen Nerina for well over 25 years but she’s quite a regular passenger with me on my nocturnal rambles. Since those days, a variety of people have come and gone from my life and have also come and gone from my nocturnal rambles too, but Nerina still persists.

Whatever happened to TOTGA, Castor and Pollux, Zero, the Girl From The Auvergne and countless others who blazed a trail through my nocturnal rambles at one time or other, hung around for a while and then disappeared just as rapidly as they came?

It’s probably something to do with lives being so entwined, I supposed, that it’s impossible to untangle then. Mind you, some of these other relationships, well, maybe not “relationships” in the way that you might think of them, were pretty intense too.

One day, when I can find the right words to express it, I’ll fill in those missing three days of my journal from the end of August 2019 about one of the most intense experiences that I have ever had.

To quote Agatha Christie, I was “embarking on a hazardous journey in troubled waters facing who knows what currents of misfortune” but “one must follow one’s star wherever it leads, even unto hell itself”.
But then, to quote Agatha Christie yet again, “Beware of the day when your dreams come true”.

But that’s enough of me being all maudlin. That’s not helping anyone at all.

After the medication I transcribed the dictaphone notes and updated yesterday’s entry with the details of the night’s journey, did some organising and by then it was time for my Welsh course.

Armed with my hot chocolate and fruit bread I took my seat in front of the computer and we were off. Another hectic place with 52 pages of documents that needed to be downloaded from the internet.

In the lunch pause I had a shower and then I was back at my place for round two. And we belted along all the way until the end.

Coincidentally, the subject of Welsh Bibles came up and I was proud to be able to show the class my grandmother’s Welsh Bible. When she died, my father threw it away with the rest of her possessions and I had to hunt it down to rescue it.

When the lesson finished I found Liz on line so we had a chat and made plans for a date next week

people on beach rue du nord Granville Manche Normandy France Eric HallBy now it was long-past the time for my afternoon walk and peer over the wall at the end of the car park to look down on the beach.

So off I set across the car park and had a peer. And while there wasn’t all that much beach to be on, that didn’t bother most people.

They were deep in the water and having a really good splash around this afternoon. But to my surprise there were very few kids down there in the water.

Usually it’s the first thing that kids do – go charging down the beach and straight into the water without even bothering to change into their swimwear, as we have seen on several occasions.

frogmen rue du nord Granville Manche Normandy France Eric HallWe even had a few frogmen, or were they frogwomen down there as well joining in the fun.

They seemed to be enjoying themselves this afternoon but I’ve no idea what they were finding to do there. If they have lost something, they can just wait until the tide goes out.

But it was no surprise to see so many people because it really was lovely. One of my neighbours came over for a chat, carrying his towel. He’d just been for a dip.
“Why don’t you go in?” he asked. “It’s lovely”.

So I made my excuse about my catheter port that I had used on several previous occasions, including once with Castor. But in all reality, if anyone thinks that I’m going to be putting my sooty foot into any water that is less than 37°C they are sadly mistaken.

yacht baie de granville Granville Manche Normandy France Eric HallIt wasn’t just on the beach and close in to shore that there were loads of people. There were plenty of others much further offshore.

This was just one photograph of any number that I could have taken of any water craft out there this afternoon.

The reason why I chose the yacht was because it was just so majestic out there in the Baie de Granville. She was riding at anchor a couple of miles off the shore

There were some people on board but I couldn’t see how many or what they were doing, so I cleared off along the path round the headland for my walk..

la granvillaise baie de Granville Manche Normandy France Eric HallNow here’s a very familiar sight to the many regular readers of this rubbish, who will recall having seen it on endless occasions.

From this distance there was no change of reading her name, because she was about 10 miles out but her rigging gives us a clue.

She can only be one of two boats, and the fact that she is white and not brown tells us that she is La Granvillaise, even if we can’t see the tell-tale number G90 on one of her sails.

She plies for hire around the harbour too and it looks as if she has a full load this afternoon. I’ve no idea where she’s going but wherever it was, I have to admit to being quite envious

man fishing from rocks pointe du roc Granville Manche Normandy France Eric HallOne thing that we haven’t seen very much of just recently is fishermen..

It’s always usually very popular and we’ve had week after week in the past of fishermen perched on every rock within a radius of 20 miles, but I haven’t seen any for a while.

But never mind, there’s one out there this afternoon on a rock at the Pointe du Roc, not looking as if he’s going to catch anything. He has no net to haul them in and no basket in which to keep them.

However that won’t matter because regular readers of this rubbish will recall that we’ve never ever yet seen a fisherman haul anything out of the water – not even a bicycle wheel or an old boot.

powered hang gliders pointe du roc Granville Manche Normandy France Eric HallWhile I was admiring the fisherman at the Pointe du Roc, I was overflown yet again.

Regular readers of this rubbish will recall a few days ago that we saw a pair of powered hang gliders or whatever they are flying over our heads while we walked around the path. Well, here they are again, flying past my knapper as I’m busy doing some thing else.

As I have said before … “and on many occasions too” – ed … one of these days I’ll have to go for a drive out to the airfield and see what’s happening there because there must be tons of exciting stuff and I’m missing it all.

light aircraft 50SA pointe du roc Granville Manche Normandy France Eric HallThat includes machines like this one too, that overflew me a few minutes later.

Its registration number is 50SA and that’s not a number that’s on any national database so I’m not able to search it. We’ve seen plenty of this type of number and this type of aircraft and the number must be on some kind of register somewhere that will tell me more about the aeroplane.

And the only way to find out is, I suppose, to go to beard the lion in his den and receive the information first-hand.

But not today. I have far too much to do right now so I’d better push off and get a move on or it won’t be done.

marite baie de mont st michel Granville Manche Normandy France Eric HallMeanwhile, it looks as if Marité has caught me up.

She was sailing round to the harbour so I reckoned that she was going to put into port. But instead she continued on her way past, doing a circuit of the bay by the looks of things.

One of these days I’ll have to go out for a sail on her too, even if I don’t think much of the people who are in charge of her.

While I was here I had a glance into the chantier naval but there was no change of occupant in there today so I pushed on elsewhere.

thora port de Granville harbour Manche Normandy France Eric HallLike to the viewpoint where I could see into the inner harbour.

And look who’s in here today! It’s Thora, one of the two little Channel Islands freighters that run between here and the Channel Islands. They don’t come in here as much since Brexit, having to go instead to St Malo where there are proper Customs facilities.

Back at the apartment it was already 17:45 so there wasn’t all that much time left before it was guitar practice so I couldn’t do too much in the time available.

For tea I had steamed veg with veggie balls and vegan cheese sauce and it really was delicious. The apple turnover that I’d made on Sunday for dessert was also delicious – cooked to perfection.

So anyway, right now I’m off to bed. I’ve kept the alarm set at 08:00 because there’s no point in getting up early and then falling asleep again. I promised myself that I’d never surrender to this illness but having fallen asleep in a Welsh lesson recently, it’s not fair on the teacher and I need to show some respect, no matter how dismal it is..

Monday 16th September 2019 – STRIDER HAS BEEN …

… a busy boy today.

Back at the house after the school run, Zoe gathered up all of the glass, aluminium and plastic that she could find and we loaded it up into the back of Strider.

Then down at the bottom of the field by the lean-to we dragged the trailer out of the undergrowth. That was already loaded with a huge mound of stuff so we coupled it up to Strider’s tow hitch. Not for nothing did we fit a decent tow bar on him last year.

And that wasn’t the work of five minutes either. A trailer that hasn’t moved for a year or so and there’s quite a weight in it too. And, of course, the electric connections needed to be cleaned off so that I would have lights.

On the way down the road we hit a bump and the back door of the trailer opened up. As I have said before, I seem to be leaving a trail of possessions all around the world these days. But this time we were quick off the mark and we had it all back on the trailer and the door closed before anyone noticed.

At the garage we loaded more stuff up and then went on a tour of a few places to collect more. Off then to the recycling centre at Bath to weigh in the whole lot of it.

On the way back (for by now it was almost lunchtime after all of that) we went to Tim Horton’s where Zoe bought me a coffee and where I left my bag behind and had to run back and pick it up. It had taken ages to unload it all and separate it, and I question the wisdom of putting heavy glass into cardboard boxes and leaving it on a trailer for a year in the rain.

And inside the back of Strider now smells like a Babylonian boozer’s bedroom.0

The trailer door came open again on the way back (luckily there was nothing in it) and I stopped to pick up a sandwich. By now I was thoroughly exhausted.

And that’s no surprise either. I’d had another miserable night where I didn’t go to sleep until about 03:00 and then a fitful night of tossing and turning.

I don’t remember much of where I went but I remember three different segments. Segment 1, and then Segment 2 which was completely different and bore no resemblance to the previous, and Segment 3 where I stepped right back into where I was at the end of Segment 1. And if you think that that is confusing, imagine how I’m feeling.

And I do recall at some point the welcome return of a young girl who accompanied me on several voyages three or four years ago, and I wonder what has suddenly brought her back into the picture.

We had the school run of course and then the recycling, and then this afternoon I was hauling animal feed for a while, and then we replaced the rear brake caliper on the big Chevy truck that somehow manages to feature quite regularly on these pages just now.

As well as all of that, I’ve ordered my fuel economy chip and also made enquiries about my jacket at the hotel in Calgary.

Back at home I put back the trailer – and I do have to say that despite being out of practice I was totally impressed with my reversing skills – putting the trailer exactly where I wanted it (and in some tight corners too) every time, right on the button.

Not many of us here tonight so I made my usual vegan standby – stuffed peppers – for the two of us. And then I downloaded some more music. Two albums, both of which are vastly underrated.

Nektar’s album Down To Earth is a very interesting curiosity – am album by a British rock band that was totally ignored in the UK but became something of a phenomenon in Germany and eventually the musicians relocated there.

It’s one of these “take it or leave it” albums that I like to play every now and again but I can really live without it.

On the other hand, House On The Hill is a magnificent album. I’ve heard quite a few albums by Audience and was never particularly inspired but House On The Hill is another one of those that comes out of nowhere and stops you dead in your tracks.

It was one of the “Jackie Marshall cassette recordings” from the mid-70s and I bought a vinyl version in the mid-80s, probably the last vinyl album that I ever bought. And somehow I overlooked to purchase a CD version when I was modernising my collection.

As an aside, I’m only hunting down album tracks for albums that I already own and not for anything that isn’t already in my collection.

Now it’s bed-time and I’m hoping for better luck tonight when it comes to sleeping. I really can’t carry on like this and I’m back on the road on Wednesday.

Tuesday 24th January 2017 – I’VE HAD ANOTHER …

… day where I nip out for half an hour and don’t come back until late in the evening.

Rather reminiscent in fact of when I was 18 and living at home and had a couple of friends come round on Friday evening. “I’m just nipping out for half an hour” I said to my parents, and came back on Sunday night. I remember it well.

I awoke early this morning, what with the unfortunate 06:30 cacophony from my Eastern European housemates. And I’d been on my travels during the night too. Of course, it all evaporated straight away as soon as I awoke, although I do remember that it did feature a girl who at one time featured three or four times over a period of a couple of weeks. I wish that I could remember what it was all about though.

After breakfast, I sat and watched the snowstorm for a while. It was quite heavy and sticking too, starting to look quite interesting. But unfortunately it all started to melt after a while and the weather cleared up.

Next task was to tidy my room a little, and then at about 11:00 I set off up town. Right the way across town in fact to the ring road by the local nick to meet my friend Hans who was coming up from Munich. He’s passing through on his way to the UK for a week or two, and old age is catching up with him too. He’d drive up from Munich to Zeebrugge all in one go but now he feels that he needs to break his journey. He’s staying in Leuven tonight at the flat-hotel place.

We met up and went for lunch – and then for a coffee – and then to a bar where Hans tried a local beer or four, and then back to the Indian place where I had been the other day. We had a good chat about old times – after all, we’ve been friends for over 50 years.

A walk through the cold evening saw me escort him back to his room so that he wouldn’t miss his way. His place is a tiny little studio that he has rented for the night and I’m quite envious. Ages ago, I’d enquired about a studio at this place but they wouldn’t give me a discount for a long stay so I’d ruled it out. Quite right too in my opinion – I couldn’t afford it – but its basic price is the same as here and had I been able to negotiate it down to a price similar to what I have here, it would have been absolutely perfect.

Ahhh well.

So now I’m back here. Late again. I’ll try to have a good sleep, to see where that takes me. And tomorrow we are going for a coffee before Hans hits the road again.

Sunday 26th June 2016 – I’M DISAPPOINTED …

… with that pizza place that I’ve been using. I had an under-cooked pizza a couple of weeks ago, I seem to remember, and tonight’s was even worse. What was even more depressing about it was that while a few weeks ago he might have had a valid excuse, seeing as how the place was packed out, but tonight I was the only customer in there at the time that I ordered.

And so I shan’t be going to that place again – not that it’s a big deal because there’s another pizza place just round the corner from where my new place is and I’ll give that a try. I still have plenty of my sliced vegan cheese left.

Talking of vegan cheese, I had a cheese butty today. There wasn’t enough hummus left for a decent butty, especially as with it being Sunday it was a big baguette from the boulangerie down the road. But with a good supply of vegan cheese, a big tomato and a pile of salad (and a couple of olives) it was delicious.

Mind you, I’ll have to do a big “shop” tomorrow as I’ve now run out of lunchtime stuff.

Last night was a slightly better night as far as I was concerned. I was late dropping off to sleep – long after midnight – and awake early – 05:20 in fact – despite having been up once or twice during the night. But after the 05:20 trip downstairs, I went back to bed, back to sleep and it was 08:20 when I awoke.

I’d been on my travels during the night too – with the mother of a girl who has featured a couple of times in these pages. We were in Marcillat en Combraille and I had to take her home, which involved going into the town square and back out the other side. However she told me of a shorter way through the town that missed out going round the square. It was puzzling to me how come I didn’t know this particular way.

Straight after breakfast, which did include my two bread rolls, I went down to the boulangerie. Although the bad news is that the jam had gone off. I managed to salvage some of it but the rest went into the bin. It’s already been salvaged once so it’s no big deal. I’ll have to buy some more if there’s none supplied in this new place.

Sunday was shower day too, so now I’m nice and clean. But it was touch and go because the water wasn’t very hot. I don’t know what has happened there. I had to make the most of the cool water. It wasn’t very pleasant but still …

As far as the blog goes, I’ve now finished the month of June. Tomorrow, I’ll be starting on July if I have the opportunity. I want to see how my water retention issues go because if there is no improvement I’m going to try to blag my way back into the hospital.

Not that I want to of course, but I can’t go on like this.

Thursday 7th April 2016 – WHY DO I ALWAYS …

… seem to be given the perishing room-mate who snores? There I was at 05:30 still not able to drop off to sleep.

But I must have gone off at some time or another because I was on my travels again. I started off trying to make some sandwiches with white bread but every time I went to spread anything onto the bread, it tore the bread away from the crust and after a while that started to annoy me greatly. I decided to go out for more bread but I needed someone to do some baby-sitting for me while I was out (don’t ask me why) and just at this moment a young girl – someone who has featured once or twice in our nocturnal rambles – came along. My idea was to grab hold of her to stand in for me but she was rather uncatchable, discreetly drifting away every time I tried to ask her to help out. But in the end off I went, in an old early base-model Mark I Ford Cortina 2-door, dark blue. MY route took me up a track at the back of some houses, through the daffodils, only to find my way blocked by an old car that I hadn’t noticed, so I had to retrace my steps.
A while later, I found myself in France again and I’d been following this trailer with an old car on it – a Peugeot 203. This was taken off the trailer and pushed up an overgrown lane to where there were another two of them. I couldn’t stop there as it was on the side of a hill, quite exposed and with bad bends, so I parked up in the nearby village and set out to walk back. even though it was a Sunday, there were hordes of people about and I wanted things to be much more quiet than this but I just couldn’t escape the people. I lost my way in the village and was surrounded by curious onlookers and I couldn’t find my way to these cars. Most of the people were British and there was clearly something going on of which I didn’t like the look at all – a drugs deal or other criminal activity maybe and this was an uncomfortable place to be. And somewhere along the line, this girl appeared in it again.
And yet another while later, I was in a car with, having made a dramatic reappearance, this same young girl. We were watching these British people and they were making a film – something like one of the 1970s “Cops and Robbers” dramas on British TV. This involved a car chase – the part in which she was interested – and so was I when I saw that the car being chased was a gorgeous Daytona Yellow Ford Taunus – the model from 1973-76. It was the most beautiful car of its type that I had seen for years and I had my heart set on it but I knew in my bones exactly what was going to happen to it – and I was right too. They slammed it right into the external corner of a wall and put a huge V-shaped dent in the front of it. I was furious and leapt out of the car calling them all kinds of names and in the end, after the chase had passed by, I man-handled the Taunus onto my trailer, which just happened to be attached to the back of my car. I asked this girl what her plans were for tomorrow and she told me that she “had to go to check out a scene for the Sweeney” – one of the aforementioned “Cops and Robbers” programmes and I took it to mean that she had to go and look at a location to see if it would be suitable for filming. I thought to myself that she isn’t half having some interesting and important tasks for a girl of her age.

But it’s amazing in a way that the same person can appear in all three parts of my little voyage during the night, and that I was of the opinion that it was all interconnected in some way. It’s not the first time that I’ve stepped out of a little nocturnal ramble only to step right back into it later at more-or-less the same place.

Anyway, after this, I did finally go back off to sleep and I remember being off again, but being awoken at 07:30 so that they can take a blood sample, well before you’re back in the land of the living, means that wherever I went has gone forever.

We had the cleaner coming along quite early and she showed quite clearly that she must have studied under Hattie Jacques. It must have been the turn of our room to have “the works” because she went over it from top to bottom, to such a thorough extent that Hattie Jacques would have been quite impressed. I kept to my bed while she was at it. That seemed to be the safest course.

I had a whole stream of visitors – nurses, doctors, Professors and the like. And each one told me a different story about my stay here. But one thing became clear, and that was that my blood count isn’t so good. The transfusion that I had the other day brought the count up to just 8.1. That’s close to the critical amount of 8.0 and so they are proposing another blood transfusion to bring it up to something more like it.

First off though, was to have more chemotherapy. They’ve decided that I’m fit enough to have a second helping of that before they give me more blood and so they made the necessary arrangements. And remembering how things unfolded last time, they took it slowly. That meant that they didn’t finish it until about 18:30, by which time it was too late to do the blood transfusion and throw me out.

That disappointed me – it means that I’ll have to stay here for yet another night and go without sleep once more. It’s ruined my day completely, the effects of last night without sleep because I’ve been drifting in and out of sleep all day and I’ve not really been able to accomplish anything that I’ve set out to do. How I dream for a good night’s sleep and a proper day of some kind of effort.

Not only that, OH Leuven were at home to White Star Brussels this evening. I’ve never seen Leuven play, but the last time that I saw White Star, they had about 200 supporters and a brass band. I was looking forward to going this evening, but I’ve had to rule that out which has annoyed me greatly.

Alison came by the visit too. Her cousin had some over for a short stay so she had been to pick her up at the railway station. On their way back, they came to visit, bringing a few edible bits and pieces with them and they will go down quite nicely.

So now everyone has finished what they are doing and we are supposed to be settling down for the night. But fat chance of that with my neighbour rattling off like he is. I’m thoroughly fed up of this, I can tell you.

Friday 12th February 2016 – I’VE BEEN ON MY OWN …

… for much of the day today. Liz and Terry had things to do in St Gervais and Montlucon so they were gone long before 09:00, and I was left to my own devices.

Much of the time was spent trying to encourage the boiler. It’s a solid-fuel boiler burning wood and it’s one of those machines that if you know what you are doing and the thing is set up right, it burns away quite happily to itself. All you have to do is to load it up every hour or so. But if you don’t know what you are doing and the boiler is still a little on the cool side, it needs continual coaxing. And that was what was happening today – I had to be there for a considerable amount of time trying to make it warm up correctly.

Still, it’s all good experience.

Apart from that, I was doing something quite interesting. I’d been reading about one of the earliest “garden village” council estates in London, built at the turn of the 20th Century in Tooting. But doing some more research I came across the court case of the person why built it. He was borrowing money to finance the business (which was normal in those days) but the London County Council, not only “valued” the work four weeks in arrears, but then took another four weeks to pay up (which even the Prosecuting Counsel in the court case admitted was a “difficult way for anyone to do business”). It goes without saying that the builder fell into difficulties and the bank promptly pulled its financial backing, even though a distribution of his assets produced a surplus. He ended up adopting some rather questionable financial tactics to keep his business afloat and ended up with seven months imprisonment which, if you ask me, was quite outrageous. If they had left him alone, and had the Council paid up on time, he would have completed his contracts and made a decent profit for everyone concerned. But it does just go to show that aggressive banking and unsympathetic Official Receivers is far from being a modern phenomenon.

When Liz and Terry came back, they brought half the contents of the local chemist’s with them. It appears that the prescriptions that I had been given by the hospital are … errr … somewhat exaggerated. I’m going to end up with more stuff here than they will have in their stores.

We had a nice tea tonight – I had vegan lasagne with peas and chips – and then watched Chris Morris demolish the English bowling to win single-handedly the one – day cricket international. And now I’m off to bed for an early night.

And I need it too because I was off on my travels again. The first part was back in a hospital somewhere which had been invaded by an Arab fighting force. I’m not going to go into details because you are probably eating your tea or your breakfast or something and I’m trying to keep this site fit for human consumption and fun for all the family. But I was being chased around by a soldier and a nurse wielding a huge hypodermic syringe and I remember thinking to myself “just how am I going to get out of this?” – which I did by the simple expedient of waking up. And I remember saying that I wish that I had thought of that earlier.
From there I ended up back in Crewe, driving around the block formed by Middlewich Street, Badger Avenue, Broad Street and Coppenhull Lane. I needed to park up somewhere near the top of Middlewich Street to go into a shop to pick up something but there was nowhere to park. And so I cruised round and around the block hoping that something would free itself up. But nothing did. And then I noticed that at one certain moment, there was no-one behind me for miles so I would have had plenty of time to double-park to go into the shop, had I thought on. But a car pulled up and that was where my socks were, in the storage box between the front seats over the top of the handbrake. I nipped out of my car, pulled open the passenger door and dived in to retrieve my socks, and fell right over the passenger in the front seat – none other than the girl who has been on my travels with me on a few occasions now.

Tuesday 9th February 2016 – I HAD A VISITOR TODAY

And wasn’t that nice too? Ingrid came round to visit me for a couple of hours to see how I was doing and that cheered me up greatly. It’s nice to have good friends and it’s nice for them to take an interest in what is going on and in what you are doing. She came round ar 15:00 and we were chatting away until after 17:00, with lots of news about people whom we used to know. After all, since the demise of all of the community self-help groups that we used to have, we’ve all been out of touch with everyone else and what’s been going on.

After Ingrid left, we had tea. Liz had made some vegan pies in the morning before going to work and I had mine with a baked potato, broccoli and sweet corn. Absolutely gorgeous, it was too.

And I needed it too because I was exhausted after a most astonishing series of lengthy rambles during the night. It started off with a group of six women, blasted off in a rocket to go to a distant planet. When they arrive, they divide themselves up into three groups of two. One of these pairs, an older woman and a younger one, leave the rocket to go in search of intelligent life, I suppose. However they become separated and the younger one, who is very insecure, wanders around very carefully trying to avoid being contacted and meeting anyone. She then finds a little shower block kind of place where she can take a shower. Its a white stuccoed stone-built small circular building but on multi-levels descending deep underground with just one shower on each level and a continual supply of warm water. It’s just like a scene from one of the Our Man Flint films. Down in the basement where there are actually two shower units and someone has been doing some plumbing there, she finds a suitable shower where she can have a wash even though there is no soap. In mid shower, she’s interrupted by two humanoid women who work here – clearly human but clearly of this planet. She asks them if they have any soap which takes them quite by surprise. But still, someone produces some. They start to chat and this young girl from the spacecraft reveals that her interest is in Population – both growth and control. Just by chance, it turns out that this is the Office of Demographics of this planet so they decide to engage her. They are very very friendly and very very helpful, finding her a desk, somewhere to sit, some work to do, and they add her onto all of the rotas for holidays, birthday cakes, memo distribution. She fits in straight away, right from Day One.
And what was my role in all of this? I’ve no idea but after a trip down the corridor it was my turn to be new in an office. I was wandering around there, getting my bearings, and I met up with Laurence’s step-father Paulo. We had a long chat and he invited me to lunch, taking me to a café. And it was the worst café that I have ever visited. The queues were absolutely enormous with one queue for meals and another queue for snacks and no-one came to serve at the queue for snacks, except on the very very odd occasion. Someone would, very occasionally, be moved on from there but we waited and waited. The place was filthy and horrible and the servers were quite disgusting, picking up and serving the sticky cakes with their fingers and then licking their fingers clean. Eventually we did make it to the head of the queue, Paulo, his friend, and me, and we found the food to be very very basic, something with chips. I just asked for a giant plate of chips but they were freezing, freezing cold. It was horrible, the worst café in the world and I can’t think of any reason at all why anyone would ever want to come and eat here, in this filthy café with this disgraceful service and shocking food.
From here, we wound ourselves backwards to Hillbilly days and we had received a carriage from the Flying Scotsman. It was to be converted into a convertible for some kind of exhibition or other, which we were very unhappy about, but we had won this prize and that was that. We had to go to stay in this place in the Wilderness which was two converted railway carriages used as holiday homes. It was the weirdest place that I’ve ever visited or ever been. The people who were running it were strange people to say the least and there were two guys there more content on stealing everything that they could lay their hands on rather than anything else. And that includes one of the carriages, for which they had rigged up one kind of cable and winch to help them tow it away. But we were easily able to outwit these men because they were not too bright, to say the least. The people who ran it were as poor as church mice and doing everything in their power to try to get more money. One thing that they were trying to do was to defraud the baker, and we had to continually speak to the baker to ensure that we received our order and that it was correct. We noticed that the food that these people were eating was disgusting – cheap, offal kind of meat slices and cheese slices. They were even eating kittens and one of our party, a young girl (wherever did she spring from) was so dismayed about this. We tried to convince her that this is what rural people have to do – kittens are useless mouths and out there you have to eat anything that presents itself and which would otherwise consume foodstuffs itself.
By now we were at an airport and waiting for a couple of people to arrive (and this had strains of déjà vu about it too). Four people in fact, and they turned out to be a girl who has featured occasionally in these nocturnal rambles, her mother, her friend and her friend’s mother. We had to take them somewhere and so they all piled into the car, which was my father’s old grey Cortina. But then the girl suddenly remembered that she had forgotten something and dashed out of the car to fetch it. We were all there urging her to get a move on. But eventually I parked the car up and decided that I would abandon it, as I have done with a variety of other Cortinas during my nocturnal ramblings . It needed to be emptied but as it was still dark I connected up a light to the car’s battery but it wasn’t good enough to see very much so I decided on coming back a little later to do it when it was light. But “a little later” meant that it was even darker because it had been the evening just a couple of hours ago. I’d also left the light connected and so I was wondering if the battery of the car would be flat by now. There was one of these “know it all” teenagers hanging around offering me all kinds of gratuitous advice and that was getting on my nerves too.

No wonder that I was exhausted. I even managed a sort-of lie in until 08:15 too. But it wasn’t quite as good as it sounds because according to the dictaphone, which I use during the night to record these adventures, I’d woken up every two hours or so anyway, just like being back at hospital, I suppose. I can see me having to work hard to snap myself out of this. But it’s perfectly understandable that I didn’t do very much this morning either after all of this during the night.

Wednesday 20th January 2016 – I HAD YET ANOTHER BAD NIGHT …

… last night. I was still awake at 01:00 and nowhere near going to sleep, although I must have done at some point because at 02:45 I was awake again and off down the corridor.

Between falling asleep the first time and going off down the corridor, nothing much happened. Or, at least, if it did, I know nothing about it. But between then and the next time that I woke up – round about 06:30, an enormous amount had been going on – to such an extent that I dictated almost 7 minutes of notes.

And this, dear reader, is what you have to sit through for the next few minutes or so.

We started off driving through a town somewhere – turning right at a set of traffic lights just before the centre. Once we’d turned, we noticed a big sports field on the left where there was a huge bowling competition taking place. All around the town and on the bus (because I was upstairs in a double-decker) there were people who all had little white lions (like the old Egg Marketing Board stamps) stamped on their body. The jacks had been stamped with the white lions and the marks on the bodies were where the people had been holding the jacks against themselves. A little farther on was a left turning where we swung around into the town centre and where were all of the shops. Just along this street was a branch of Woolworth’s (shows you just how old this all was) where we were heading but today it happened to be closed. Nevertheless, I found my way in and went for a wander around, particularly on the upper floors, having for some reason been separated from the others with whom I’d been travelling. But I was captured, and held as a kind of prisoner (during this part, I was actually a spectator, watching myself being restrained and tied up). The person who had imprisoned me had a heavy pole, something like a foot-length piece of sawn-off scaffolding tube and his intention was to use it to beat my head into a pulp. But thinking quickly, I said “hang on – isn’t that someone pulling up outside the building?”. He wandered over to the window to see and as he passed, even though I was still tied up, I managed to grab hold of the metal pole, wrestle it from his grasp with one quick movement and slosh him on the back of the head with it. I could then make good my escape.
We then descended into things that resembled even more like James Bond activities and I was partnered in these activities by a young girl who has featured a couple of times on my voyages. She was wearing a heavy dark blue hooded cloak something similar to Little Red Riding Hood’s cloak but with a much more pointed hood and which put her face well into the shadows, but I knew that it was she. I’d been searching through this house and ended up being accosted, and was being interrogated. I had to think quickly of a way to escape from this predicament. There was a an old vintage car in this room so I was thinking that if I could bolt some bolts though the holes in the sills so that the threads were protruding, and coat the exposed threads with a deadly poison, I could somehow contrive to have these people back up against the car, bang their legs on the exposed threads which would then inject the deadly poison into their bloodstream and that would be curtains for them (how I was going to do all of this whilst under constant surveillance didn’t appear to worry me, apparently). But while I was trying to work out all of this at the same time as answering all of these questions, I looked up into a dark corner of the room on top of the car but just underneath the ceiling, and there was the pointy blue hood and the dark shadowy face. I said out loud to the person interrogating me that it’s a shame that the girl (mentioning her name) wasn’t here with me because she would soon make short work of him – once he had backed up against the car, she would give him a real headache. His response was “don’t be silly – of course she isn’t here”. Of course, my little speech was to give the girl a clue as to what to do. It goes without saying that sooner or later, the guy in charge was leaning against the car, his elbow resting on the car bonnet while he was talking, and of course the inevitable happened. This girl wielded the scaffolding pipe (we still had that) to great effect. It was the matter of seconds to overwhelm the others and the girl and I made good our getaway.
I was back home after that and I had emptied out my van. There were all kinds of papers that needed to be sorted out, which I was doing. I’d left in the van a few books on submarines to read while I was on my travels but when I was going through all of these papers there was yet more stuff on submarines that should have stayed behind. One thing that I found was a rare postage stamp, a fidelity card for something, and a copy of a message – a parody of the “England expects” message issued by Karl Dönitz to his submariners on the eve of the surrender in 1945. I tucked this message into the plastic cover on the inside of my dairy thinking that I’d deal with this later. But with this rare postage stamp and fidelity card, I took them round to the girl who had accompanied me on my James Bond adventures. I knocked on the door and her mother (but it wasn’t her mother) answered the door, so I explained why I had called and asked if daughter was in. Daughter came bounding down the stairs with a huge smile on her face to collect these items. In exchange, her mother and granny (who was also there) gave me the post that they had been collecting for me in my absence and also a pile of used stamps. I was looking for Indian stamps as Bill had been looking for 50 rupees-worth to send off an application for something or other – and it didn’t matter if the stamps were used and franked or not.

From here I went down to breakfast and my injection, and afterwards carried on with some work on the laptop. But Terry said after awhile that “none of this is getting the work done” and proposed to go out and cut the rest of the wood that we hadn’t finished yesterday.

Working yesterday had worn me out but I can’t be an ungrateful guest, so I went out to help. I was there for another hour and a half or so and then we came in for coffee, having picked up some bread from the boulanger who came round today.

After coffee, Terry went out to carry on, but I was done for and that was my lot. I carried on with what I had been doing beforehand and then prepared everything for lunch.

Terry went out after lunch to price up a job and I stayed behind – I’m not up to all of this yet. I had a doze and then played around with my 3D program, had a doze and then did a pile more of my animation course. I’ve now finished week three (minus the practical work) and I’ve now started week four. I go into hospital next Wednesday and I want it finished by then.

Liz made a quiche for tea and I had an individual one, made with a kind of cheesy garlic and herb paste, together with baked potato and a kind of coleslaw salad. Really beautiful it was too. I do have to say that the food here is thoroughly excellent and I shall be very sorry to leave.

Now I’m relaxing, and then I’m off for an early night. I need one after yesterday’s and today’s efforts and the bad night that I had had last night.

And no 3D characters and no family members and no taxis in my voyage last night? I wonder where they all went.

And I wonder who will turn up tonight to accompany me on my travels.

Thursday 31st December 2015 – I HAVE SPENT NEW YEAR’S EVE …

… in some strange places, but this evening will be about the strangest. I’m back in Montlucon, back in the hospital and in the casualty department connected up to a couple of pochettes of blood.

This morning I had the usual blood test and at 17:15 I had the phone call. Apparently my blood count has collapsed and it’s down to 7.2, which means that in 4 days I’ve lost 15% of my haemoglobin. There’s no Day Hospital tomorrow (yes, I now know the reason why I have blood tests on Mondays and Thursdays – that’s because the Day Hospital is usually open from Monday to Friday, Bank Holidays excepted of course, and they can call me in the next day if the results are bad) and so it has to be done in Casualty.

And so I rode off into a rather symbolic sunset – symbolic in many senses in that it’s the final sunset of 2015, bringing down the night onto the end of a rather significant year for me, and that I have a rather uncomfortable feeling that it’s bringing down the night onto a significant chapter in my life and that whatever happens to me once a new dawn breaks will be completely different to that which I’ve experienced to date.

new years eve sunset site ornithologique st gervais d'auvergne puy de dome franceNevertheless, at the Site Ornithologique just outside St Gervais, one of my favourite photography spots, I stopped to take a photo of the sun dipping down under the horizon.

And I wasn’t alone here either. Liz was here too. She was on her way back from the airport at Limoges, having taken her family back for their aeroplane to East Midlands, and she was impressed by the view too. We had a little chat and then I was on my way.

Evening meal for me, my “special treat” for New Year’s Eve, was a large packet of crisps, a packet of biscuits and a banana. There wasn’t any time to prepare any food back at Liz and Terry’s because the hospital wanted me in and out before the midnight rush of drunks began, and so I had to pick up what I could find en route.

At the hospital, I was lucky enough to find a parking space for Caliburn close to the casualty entrance, and once I was inside, I was whisked straight into the casualty ward and prepared for transfusion, with the second-most-painful insertion of a drain. And this is when I discovered that the claim, on the telephone earlier, that “the blood has already been ordered” was somewhat economical with the truth. It didn’t arrive until 21:30 in fact.

And in the meantime, I was in a small room right by the entrance to the Casualty Department. Ambulances, with blue flashing lights and sometimes sirens, were pulling up right outside my window and the electric door into the Department was right next to the door to my room, which was open. Each time I closed my eyes, an ambulance would pull up, the electric door would open, and I’d be wide awake. And then I’d close my eyes again ready to doze off and the procedure would be repeated. And as New Years Eve approached and the stream became a flood, I gave it up as a bad job and asked for a coffee.

Yes, some let the New Year in with a glass of champagne. I let it in with a plastic beaker of coffee.

By 01:30 they had finished with me, and they offered me a bed for the night in the ward at the back of the Casualty Department. I didn’t really feel too much like the drive back to Liz and Terry’s and in any case they would be well asleep by the time that I returned, so I gladly accepted the offer.

And here I’m staying until tomorrow.

Mind you, it’s hardly surprising that I wasn’t up to the drive back. I’d done quite enough driving last night on my nocturnal travels.

I’m not sure now exactly how I started out on my travels but I was definitely in my chocolate-brown Cortina 2000E, TNY143M, that has featured quite a few times just recently on my nocturnal voyages and I’m not sure why. But as our story unfolds, there was a huge argument in a car park that abutted, albeit about 20 feet higher up, onto the street where I was parked. It concerned some kind of illicit behaviour involving a taxi company or two, something that would be of great interest to me of course, being in the taxi business, and a girl was having a huge argument with the driver of a big black saloon car parked on the edge of this car park. The net result of this argument was that she grabbed hold of the driver’s briefcase and flung it high into the air. The case landed at my feet with the papers scattered everywhere so I quickly gathered up the papers, half-expecting the driver to come charging down the bank after his possessions. Instead, he got into his car and cleared off quickly leaving me holding all of the evidence, which would make good reading in the taxi licensing office. I walked back up the hill to the pizza place on the corner of the main road and ordered, inexplicably, a chicken pizza. While it was being prepared, I reckoned that I had better go and recover the Cortina and bring it up outside the pizza place where I could keep a better eye on it and its contents. So back in the pizza place and the server asked me if I wanted ham and some other meat on it – they hadn’t even finished preparing it, never mind cooked it. I had a feeling that this would go on for ever and I didn’t have the time to spare.
So never mind – I’d planned to go to the cinema that evening but I could go earlier and I could watch the film twice. But this meant going on the bus so off I went. And at the end of the first showing, it meant going back on the bus again, doing a round trip and then back to the cinema. And here on the bus this time around I met a girl, someone who had made a couple of cameo appearances in my travels during the autumn. The bus took us on a guided tour of the town and stopped at a big desolate area of waste land, with the driver telling us that this was formerly the old medieval centre of the town which had been demolished and a modern town centre built elsewhere. We were being asked all kinds of quiz questions about street names and the like too.
After the cinema I took this girl home with me, which I realised too late was probably not a good thing to do, because before going out I’d emptied out the van and having nowhere to store the stuff, I’d stacked it, all kinds of rubbish too, into the living room so there was hardly anywhere to sit. My Aunt Doreen (she who hanged herself almost 20 years ago) had been there and so I asked the girl if she would write a note of appreciation to Doreen. However, we couldn’t find a single blank page in any of the notebooks in which we looked. Clearly we weren’t doing so well here. I also asked someone else, who was present at the time, to take out a pile of vehicle hubcaps and dump them in the bin, but then I had a change of mind, thinking that they all might come in useful at some time.
From here I drove back to the family pile in Shavington, followed by my father and my brother (no idea how come they have appeared on my travels). And near the top of Gresty Bank before the corner where Dubberley’s farm used to be, in the road in the southbound lane was a woman with a trestle table doing the washing up. We had to wait until she had finished but she took so long to arrange her crockery that I emptied her washing-up bowl for her. However, the woman in the car immediately behind me was so close that I couldn’t reverse my car enough to go around this obstacle, so the car and I had to duck under the table.
Back at the family pile, I was horrified to see not only the state of the place but the fact that the house was stinking hot with the electric heating going full blast – so hot in fact that all of the windows had been opened despite the heaters being on. There was so much waste and untidiness (and the untidiness must have been bad if it upset me) that I reckoned that my father would be appalled when he arrived. But it was my brother who appeared first, so I challenged him about it, but he replied that our father wouldn’t be coming – he had gone elsewhere. In the hallway there was cat food all over the place but he said that it was the fault of my cat, who wouldn’t eat any of it.

The alarm went off at this point and after a few minutes spent gathering my wits (it doesn’t take very long as there aren’t too many of those) I came downstairs to wait for the nurse and the prise de sang.

Once he had gone, I could have breakfast but I’d run out of muesli so I had to borrow some of Terry’s. And then we had the confusion as all of our visitors prepared to leave. I had a few big hugs, which was nice as I don’t have too many of those these days, and it goes without saying that Strawberry Moose had quite a few too.

Once everyone had left, Terry and I had a coffee and a relax and then I went off to St Gervais with a shopping list from Liz. I try my best to do some shopping here once a week – it’s the least that I can do to recompense Liz and Terry for all of the effort they are making in looking after me. Mind you, I did manage to buy the wrong milk and so I rather blotted my copy-book here.

Vegan cheese on toast for lunch (I’m becoming quite partial to this these days) and then I sat down to alternately have a little doze, drink a coffee and to continue to write up my notes from my voyage around Canada in the Autumn.

And this was when I received “the call” …

Thursday 22nd October 2015 – AND AFTER YESTERDAY’S MEGA-LIE-IN …

… it was gone 02:00 when I went to bed.

And consequently no-one was more surprised that me to be wide awake at 05:30 and up and about eating breakfast long before the alarm at 07:30.

But I know that I had been to sleep (even although it may not seem like it) because I was on my travels again. Regular readers of this rubbish will recall that back in the Spring a local family from around here made a few unscheduled guest appearances in my nocturnal ramblings, and here they were again last night. Three of them – mum and dad sitting together on a double seat near the back of a bus in which I was a passenger (not a driver) and daughter on her own on a double seat in front. I was slowly working my way backwards so as to sit next to daughter but mum and dad dumped their coats on the empty seat to prevent me sitting there (they were certainly alive to what was going on) but as if a couple of coats were ever going to deter me. And subsequently, the bus sank (ohh yes they do, you know) and we were decanted into the ocean. Many people were saved, but not daughter, even though it was known from aerial reconnaissance that she was still alive and swimming 28 hours after the sinking.

What was bizarre about this is that in the water sequence, although I was in the water, I wasn’t there with me (if that makes sense). I was up in the air looking down on all of this going on, seeing myself in the water, seeing this daughter swimming and so on. It’s not actually the first time that I’ve witnessed myself from a detached (usually airborne) viewpoint but it’s rare enough to be noted.

And there’s definitely a mouse in the attic because I surprised it when I came up here. So I’ve had a good clean around in the attic but I can’t find it. I’ve sorted out a mousetrap and I shall get after it. And then I’ll have to work out how it entered the room.

I managed to get myself into gear today and I’ve completed the Additional Notes for the next version of Radio Anglais. Tomorrow I’m hoping to do something about a new topic (we need one for the next series of programmes) and then I’ll do the rock shows. I have up until Sunday afternoon to do all of this, but you’ll be surprised just how quickly time goes.

I had a parcel delivery too today, having to go out in the driving rain and hanging cloud to rescue it as the Chronopost driver lost his way. I’m not telling you what’s in it yet as I’m not sure ready to keep it until Christmas. It’s not as if I really need it yet but we shall see.

I’ve sorted out the mousetrap, as I said, and I’ve also sorted out the gas heater. There’s a broken element on the heater, right at the first position, and I can’t remove one of the others to replace it so I’ll have to try to do the best that I can. But at least I’ll be something like warm when I go to bed, and when I wake up too if I remember to switch it on.

Wednesday 25th March 2015 – I DID WELL …

… to light a little fire up here last night. I awoke to a relatively balmy 16.2°C and yet outside we had 5cms of snow. So much for Spring, hey?

And I’d been on my travels during the night too. I had aroused the antipathy of the factory bully who ended up chasing me around the factory brandishing an enormous club. He was intercepted by a few of his colleagues who persuaded him to use a slightly smaller club. But it all ended happily ever after as I ended up walking across the park towards some buildings in the distance, hand in hand (and later, arm round the waist) of a girl who, over the past two or three weeks, has appeared out of nowhere to accompany me on several of my nocturnal adventures. I’ve absolutely no idea at all what has prompted the strange inclusion of this unexpected companion, no matter how sweet many of the people in the park described the pair of us last night.

After breakfast I used up the rest of the cheap varnish on the window and the shelves in the wardrobe, and then I varnished the floor with the first coat. After that, I went off to Montlucon as I predicted.

First stop was Pionsat to sort out the boulangère. Sophie, the regular Friday livreuse, is off sick and so they’ve been taking on anyone that they can get. That explains all of the confusion about the delivery of Friday’s bread, and I hope that we’ve managed to sort it out.

At the LIDL I witnessed a very disagreeable incident of a young guy verbally abusing the young female cashier over the price of an article (but he cleared off before I could have a word in his shell-like) and then at the Auchan I stocked up with the next month’s major supply of food.

At Brico-Depot I managed to forget the floor-join and the brush for the bedroom door but I managed to fix myself up with some tackle to make a couple of Heath-Robinson hanging rails for the wardrobe, as well as a couple more 4-watt LED light bulbs. I also bumped into Pete Marsh and his friend, who were stocking up on supplies for their next contract.

I was disappointed though – the cheap but good varnish is no longer carried. It seems that the supplier has closed down. So to be on the safe side, I bought another large tin of the expensive stuff just in case. If I don’t use it, it’ll come in handy for the ground floor.

Problem solved though over the road at mr Bricolage. They had big tins of cheap clear varnish on offer so I bought one,as well as the glass that I need to do the window over the door. I’ve managed to bring that home in one piece – it’ll be interesting to see if I can manage to get it into the doorframe without dropping it.

NOZ came up with nothing so I came home, crashed out for an hour and then made myself a Heath-Robinson meal of a handful of pasta, sone peas, carrots and green beans, and some olive oil and mustard sauce. Cooked on the oven because I’ve had the fire on again tonight. The left-over wood from last night-s fire and a floorboard offcut and that was sufficient. It’s amazing what you can do with a good fire.

Friday 20th March 2015 – MANY THANKS …

fitting floor boards bedroom les guis virlet puy de dome france … to Simon for lending me his floorboard nailer.

I’ve had some exciting and interesting tools here while I’ve been doing work but I’ve never had anything quite like this. Floorboarding has never been so easy and had I not run out of floorboarding (there are a few more packs in Caliburn) I might well have finished it today.

The first couple of pieces needed careful shaping and it took a while to align them, but once they were in place the rest followed quickly. And once I’d worked out the best way to employ the machine then it went even better.

But as I said, I ran out of wood here and so I called it a day – at 18:50 as it happened so I’d already put in a good day’s work. And apart from taking the stats I haven’t been outside at all. And that’s not a surprise because the weather has been awful today – pouring down with rain all day.

I’ve not even been to the shops (something that I usually do on a Friday evening). I’ll have to do that tomorrow – after I’ve done the flooring because I’m going to have another hour or so working on the floor, despite it being a weekend.

I was on my travels again last night and, interestingly, it was a continuation of a voyage that I had made a short while ago (which is the point that this person doing this experiment was trying to prove). I was back on that coach journey where that family from round here were passengers. I’d gone to bed and I sensed that I was not alone, looking up from under my eyelids, but still pretending to be asleep, I saw the girl from this family. She had come into my room. When I gave a sign of life, she shuffled off out again quickly.

This prompted me to go to look for her to find out what was going on, and that wasn’t going to be too difficult as the hotel rooms had windows facing the corridor, rather like the older part of our school, which amazed me from a privacy point of view, although the windows were frosted glass.

From ere I found myself working the office where Nerina was working, although the bosses put us to work in different rooms to keep us apart. I spent a lot of time chatting to a girl who worked there, and I stayed there until late evening to miss the rush hour traffic. In my car, which was a white Cortina mkIV estate with the spare wheel in a holder on the left-hand side of the tailgate, I saw the girl with whom I’d been working so I waved at her to make sure that she would see me and then go back to the office to tell everyone what a big car I had.

This was a quite exciting voyage, I have to say that, and it went on for ever. I wonder how it is sometimes that I find time to sleep. But I do wish that my real life was as exciting as what goes on when I’m deep in the arms of Morpheus.

Wednesday 4th March 2015 – I WAS ON MY TRAVELS …

… during the night. At the wheel of a holiday coach going somewhere with a load of passengers. And to my surprise, there was a family (mum, dad and girl) from around here on board coming with me. Small world, isn’t it? I wonder why they were there.

And when I woke up it was dark. Not that it was early, but it was snowing like crazy. And throughout the day we had a mixture of sunlight followed by heavy snow flurries and back to sunshine again. And this was how it kept up. The temperature plummeted too and by teatime we were at freezing point. So much for the beautiful Spring weather of yesterday.

wardrobe doors bedroom les guis virlet puy de dome franceI spent most of the working day in the bedroom, as you might expect. And by the time lunchtime came round, I’d done the bracing for the two doors that I had cut yesterday, cut the lets in the doors and the framework for the hinges, hung the doors, fitted the handles and then the magnetic catches.

That took me nicely up to lunchtime so I cleared off for my buttied and coffee, and some more work on the website

Back at work this afternoon, I cut town the rest of the planking that I had made yesterday so that I had a strip for the doors on the other side of the wardrobe. I cut the two doors out of that and then cut them to size, and then cut the lets in the framework for hinges for the the right-hand door.

Thats as far as I reached today, as this was about 18:40 when I reached this point so I called it a day.

Up here, the temperature had fallen to 14.8°C – not all that cold but I may as well light a fire to cook my tea rather than use the gas.

So tomorrow, I’ll be hanging the two doors that I have cut and then cutting the final door. If I can do that, then I can apply the first coat of varnish on the inside before I knock off. THat will mean that it will dry through the night and won’t pick up any dust.

And won’t that be progress?

Sunday 22nd July 2012 – IT’S NOT EVERY …

… day that I’m up and about at 08:30 and having breakfast.

For it to happen on a Sunday, when I don’t have an alarm clock set, is really quite extraordinary.

Mind you, it’s just as well because between then and 10:00 I had three telephone calls

  1. Radio Tartasse telling me that the Monday morning session is cancelled
  2. Marianne reminding me about our morning at St Hilaire
  3. Rosemary who wanted to talk about cheese

Just imagine me being polite on the telephone early on a Sunday morning! But then they were all important, especially the one about cheese!

domaine de baudry st hilaire puy de dome franceMarianne is doing this Sunday “tour of the communes” of the Canton of Pionsat thing this summer, and I’ve been tagging along as technician and general labourer. Marianne isn’t as young as she used to be – which goes for all of us.

Today was the turn of the commune of St Hilaire to be honoured by our presence.

But we weren’t actually “in” the commune (although we were, if you understand what I mean”. We were out in one of the Lieux Dits – the hamlets associated with the Bourg – the Lieu Dits of Baudry

domaine de baudry puy de dome franceHere at Baudry is the “Domain de Baudry”. It’s a pisciculture or fish farm where they rear trout and carp for sale or for release into the river system.

It’s very popular with fishermen of course, and everyone can try his hand at it, whether you are an experienced fisherman or a rank beginner. Even the equipment is available to hire.

And it’s not as if you are going to have much difficulty in finding a fish, is it?

misha ann dave domaine de baudry puy de dome franceThe place was absolutely heaving today, and I hoped that they had all come for our exposition and not just for the fishing.

There were loads of people whom I knew too, including Anne and Mike and daughter Misha from up the road in St Fargeol. Misha had tried her hand at fishing and I had spent much of the morning watching her on her maiden fishing expedition.

And to everyone’s surprise and delight, she actually caught five fish! Well, well done Misha! I hope that mum prepared the chips for tea.

fanfare de pionsat domaine de baudry puy de dome franceMusical entertainment was provided by the fanfare de Pionsat – the Pionsat jazz band.

We have encountered them before and I remember saying at the time that they are more noted for their enthusiasm than their technical abiity. And that still holds true today.

However, as I said when watching the rock band at St Gervais d’Auvergne last month, the comments of Samuel Johnson are relevant – “It is not done well; but you are surprised to find it done at all”.

This isn’t a big city where you can choose from 200 musicians. You have to take people as you find them. They do their best, we are all grateful for the effort that they make and we all have fun.

What more can anyone expect?

After dropping off Marianne back at Pionsat I had a couple of hours off in the afternoon (well, it IS Sunday) and then went round to Liz and Terry’s to go over our radio programmes.

Mushroom risotto was on the menu too – a huge improvement on the last mushroom risotto that I had, the famous one at Hardon House in Newport Pagnell, that looked as if someone had eaten it before I had.

Ginger cake for pudding too! That really made for an excellent Sunday.