Tag Archives: sandra cooper

Tuesday 16th January 2024 – WE HAVE REACHED …

… the nadir today.

After my visit to the Centre de Re-education today I couldn’t climb back up the stairs to my apartment and I was stranded on the second step (and I still don’t know how I managed to climb those two). Totally stuck, with no opportunity of moving.

It wasn’t until one of my neighbours turned up 20 minutes later that I was able to make it as far as the lift. And have you ever, ever heard of the absurd situation of two disabled old men, taking it in turns to help each other up the stairs one by one?

Yes, I really plumbed the perigee of despair today and I’m thoroughly sick to death of all of this.

So as you can see, the depths of the dark pit into which I slid last night are nothing whatever to where I am right now.

And do you know what made it worse?

TOTGA came to see me last night. That would be the kind of thing to immediately perk me up and bring me back into the Land of the Living.

But no such luck. And what with Castor (because I’m sure that you are all aware by now that it was she who came to see me a few nights ago, at long last) coming to cheer me up just now to no effect, things are really bad.

All I need now is for Zero to come to see me and I’ll have had my three favourite young ladies. But that’s wishful thinking and even if she were to put in an appearance, it wouldn’t do any good. I’d still be just as miserable

Cue another load of unwelcome immediate relatives tonight then, and my life will be complete.

It was another lousy, pain-ridden night last night where I felt every single jolt or bump, and I do wish that STRAWBERRY MOOSE would behave himself. Whatever will it be like when there’s a cat on there too? That is, if I ever do move down to the apartment below and don’t peg out beforehand.

But there must have been some passages of sleep because you won’t believe how much stuff there is on the dictaphone. And it wasn’t all about sleeping either because the first thing that I said when I opened my eyes in bed in the middle of the night at one moment was “oes rhywun sy’n gadael y llyfr yn y bedd” – “there is someone leaving a book in the grave?” and I didn’t understand that for a minute but that was what I said.

There they were later … "later than what?" – ed …, Jerry, Mike and I can’t remember the name of the third person, a girl whom we knew and I’ve forgotten. They were all there singing. I heard the song about “you being in my bed” which I thought was wonderful

At some later point I awoke and found myself in TOTGA’s bed. A couple of her daughters, which is strange because she only has one, were milling around fetching cups of tea for different people etc but I was being conspicuously left out of it which shows how welcome I was at the moment. Then TOTGA came and got under the covers with me and curled up. I thought to myself “this can’t possibly be right”. Even in a dream I knew that it can’t possibly be right but “hey!”. We were discussing things about a book that I was reading, where people were actually screws and had different characteristics according to what screw they were. She said “you should have said that you were from such and such a place” which was somewhere in the book. “That would confuse everyone”. I replied “I’m quite happy saying that I’m from no-tea town seeing as I’ve been here for half an hour and no-one’s offered me a cup of tea yet”.

And discussing screws in bed? It reminds me of that Excise Inspector whom I mentioned a while back giving evidence in connection with the case of a fraudulent medium. When one member of counsel asked him his occupation he replied "Excise Inspector"
"Testing spirits?" asked counsel
"Yes" replied witness "but not the kind of spirits that we are discussing at the moment"

And I know that if I ever were lucky enough to be in bed with TOTGA talking about screws, it wouldn’t be the kind of screws that came up in the dream

Then there I was in the hospital with TOTGA’s family too. We were still taking this barium meal thing. We were lucky because we were moved away at one point and the whole families left behind were at the mercy of the people who’d captured them. I continued to take this stuff, then they began to deal with all the results. I was swollen up quite badly with all this liquid but they began to take the results. They found that my condition had improved so I didn’t need to take as much of the product. The others could slowly stop it. This was how it continued, me gradually taking less and less and the swelling slowly disappearing etc. But it was still all kinds of nightmare and torture etc and I was really hoping that I didn’t have to do this again, and really hoping that TOTGA’s family didn’t. I wondered how she was getting on but there was then some kind of emotional reunion where we both met up but we were still connected to these kinds of things but it looked as of we were on the winning side of how everything was supposed to be.

And I was back in this dream again. This time we’d had the same preliminaries but I was tied up somehow. They asked if I was still coupled to the perfusion. I said yes so they started up the machine to give me more product. I could feel myself ballooning up like a lamb and at no time at all I was at the 21st stage where there was an old man chatting to one or two people. This was me, where I was going to be for a while. A nurse came to check my pochette and my injection and compared the muscles … fell asleep here … it all seemed to be favouring the woman who was with me at the beginning but everything settling down etc. She seemed to be being taken care of but I seemed to be just shunted around. In the end while I was sitting there singing to myself someone came to take control of me, measured everything and slowly reduced the product bit by bit until in the end it was just a small nominal amount that was going in me. I could see my friends on the other circuits … fell asleep here …

All I could remember of this particular one was the blue plastic spines of how we’d been arranged when they had initially taken our measurements. I was one of the one s who had been sorted out for higher doses and the others had not so it was quite obvious that I’d be taken away from these blue plastic spines and started again from another point. I ended up on the north side of the building. That was when they began the treatment. I could see myself slowly ballooning up and could feel the product rising inside of me. I’d be interested to know what the figure was but of course no-one at that stage was going to take it. I’d have to wait a good while before someone would come along to do anything about it. I spend a lot of time thinking about TOTGA and her children, how we’d ended up in this particular situation which wasn’t very nice at all, wondering when everything was going to happen. But I’ve had this dream, it’s been a continual dream, dozens of times tonight and I really don’t know why

I was dropped off in the middle of Ottawa one night by my cousin who lives there. It was in the middle of winter and I was just wearing a shirt and tie, jacket and trousers. I was carrying a big file of paperwork, one of these site-workers’ radios and something else. I wandered around for a while, found a building that was open and went in. I had a wander around and found that it was a Little Chef. I sat down and went through this paperwork and managed to find out something that might have been her address for the moment. She was staying with a friend who was a dentist whom I’d briefly met. I made a note. By this time it was pouring down with rain outside. Luckily I had my winter raincoat so I put it on. I had a small waterproof bag in which I could crumple all these papers so they wouldn’t be wet and I could keep it underneath my raincoat. The old site radio would just have to take its chance. I set off outside into the rain with absolutely no idea whatever of what I was going to do now

Yes, Ottawa in the middle of winter in just a shirt and tie, jacket and trousers and it begins to rain. If that’s ever likely. Ottawa is the second-coldest capital city in the world, beaten only by Ulan Bator in Mongolia and it was freezing cold when I was there in November 2010 on my way back to see Katherine in Windsor.

But that’s not all the stuff n the dictaphone, but you really don’t want to know about the rest, especially if you are eating a meal right now.

when the alarm went off it was a mad scramble to find the phone and I really didn’t feel like getting up, but there I was.

And after the medication and typing the dictaphone notes I tried to do so much but it seemed that the whole wide world and his wife wanted me on the phone. I couldn’t even have a wash in peace.

And as a result I was also late for my Welsh lesson and the lesson itself was a disaster too.

The car came for me on time and it really was a struggle to go to the Centre de Re-education today. The ergotherapist had me cooking food today to see how I managed (and I brought it home too) and then Severine massaged my poorly knee. But you can’t perform miracles with shoddy material

After we’d finished I had this nightmare to come home where I made myself some hot chocolate and then crashed out like a light over my desk.

Tea, the first time that I’ve eaten today, was a taco roll with the pasta and veg from the Centre de Re-education and it was delicious.

So what are the odds on visitors tonight? It’s odds-on that my family will be here, but Zero will be a rank outsider because she’s the only one of the three who’s missing. Castor will probably be even farther out, having made her annual visit the other day.

But we might have a surprise visitor too – I mean, how long is it since the Vanilla Queen came to see me?

As regular readers of this rubbish will recall, she’s a girl who once quite literally dogged my footsteps all the way from Montreal across to Edmonton, then to Whitehorse in the North West Territories and then onwards into the High Arctic.

She was someone whom I admired greatly. She was a hairdresser (“hair stylist!”) from Montreal who had a passion for the High Arctic just like me and one day just happened to notice that the lease on a hair salon in Iqualuit on Baffin Island was available.

So "gone! And never called me ‘mother’!". How brave was that?

But that’s even less likely than Castor.

The stage is probably being reached where not only would it be Nerina but I’d be quite happy about it too. But there’s no point in brooding about things like this. As if I don’t have enough to brood about right now.

If I’d stayed in Crewe I’d almost inevitably have ended up in Shrewsbury Nick or something or else driving a bus or taxi somewhere. Of course, all work is honourable, no matter what it is, but how do you keep ’em down on the farm after they’ve seen Paree?

If I’d stayed in Crewe I wouldn’t be where I am now, and I’ll remember that quote next time I’m having to think about spurious quotes to attribute to Boyle Roche.

So "as I write this letter I have a pistol in one hand and a rapier in the other". Good night

0

Friday 17th February 2023 – CALIBURN AND I …

… went to LIDL this afternoon to do our shopping for the forthcoming week.

And I only had to show Caliburn the ignition key and he fired up. having a new started fitted was obviously a good move.

Having said that, I wish that I was as lively as Caliburn was this morning. I had another bad, restless night tossing and turning with a real struggle once more to haul myself out of the bed before the second alarm went off. I’d have been quite happy to stay in bed for the rest of the day.

Neverthless, despite the bad night, there was plenty of time somewhere or other to go off on a few perambulations. I started off at a girls’ boarding school, something that would have been a wonderful opportunity 50 years ago, and there was something going on in Shavington in respect of the girls who attended. A little later on I was doing something at the school and had to make a report on the girls. One particular girl hadn’t made a very good start. She wasn’t really serious, rather light-headed, wouldn’t concentrate, rather silly. In the end I had to talk to her about it. I read out the report that I’d made on her. I asked her if she was happy about me sending off this report with the consequences that would lead from it. It was possible that the school wouldn’t keep her on. She would have to go back to a State school or was she going to show me how hard she worked and knuckle down to earn a better report based on the trust that I was going to place in her to do it? Interestingly, when I was reading out these reports to the girls concerned it was done in public, not in private. That was strange.

Later on I was back at school again. There was something happening this time about the headmaster. It involved climbing up the stairs all the way to the top. There were 32 floors up which you had to climb by stairs and then probably another 100 or so stairs that led to a pinnacle. I’d climbed up there once but didn’t really want to ever have to do it again. Something happened that led to these girls starting to climb up the stairs. This led to a race. Some of the older boys were racing up the stairs trying to go past me. I was trying to do everything that I could to prevent them going past and at the same time catching up with these girls. We reached the top on the 32nd floor where there was a huge marble block which everyone thought was the headmaster’s tomb, I suppose. Someone said that they’d moved this from the gym, but no, the one in the gym was smaller etc. Then it came to climbing up these 100 stairs right to the very top of the pinnacle-thing. I didn’t feel at all like doing it for one reason or another, almost as if I was scared of heights but I was here and there was only that much to do. Surely I wasn’t going to let this thing fall to the ground for the sake of just 100 steps whether I was having this fear of heights or not.

But then I’m not sure what this next one was all about but it was something to do with animals. I used to give all the animals free meals for some reason or other that I don’t know now.

Everything then descended into complete and utter chaos. I had to go round to this family, a strange family. All kinds of stuff was going on there. Basically the kids were out of control and up to all kinds of mischief creating all kinds of problems for visitors including me. When their parents came home they were absolutely furious and gave a whole list of tasks that the kids to do in order to tidy up the mess that they had made while their parents were out. A lot of that included my stuff that they had somehow managed to mess up. The thing that disappointed me most though was that I’d said a few things that hadn’t happened, simply to underline the issues and they were ordered immediately to deal with those things. How they were going to do that I really didn’t know. They’d had my car in a real dirty state. It turned out that the parents had only ordered them to clean the driver’s window and the front windscreen. I made a silly remark that “that’s a shame because I was hoping to have my car valeted here today” which didn’t go down well. It was the wrong thing to say in the wrong circumstances.

Finally, we’d been to a hotel in Canada somewhere. My cousin from Ottawa was there, a third person and I, but I can’t remember who. My cousin had been asking all kinds of strange questions that I didn’t quite understand. Then we had to go home as my cousin had something urgent to do. We set off to walk and it was raining. The subject of diplomas came up. I told her that if ever I had my life to live over again I’d be a plumber or an electrician etc because of all the difficulties that people were having, having things done like that. You’ll always find work if you’re a plumber or an electrician. You’ll never really want for anything.

After I’d had the medication and checked my mails and messages the first thing that I did was to send off the third instalment of my payment for the apartment downstairs. This stupid system of having miserable daily limits is an awful lot of effort but that’s what comes with having to bank with a bank that has in my opinion on several occasions sunk into the deepest depths of incompetency.

But at least it’s a way of transferring the money and I have the receipts to prove it. I have to grin and bear it. There are other ways to transfer the money as I have found out,, but the delay in creating accounts, sending off documentation and all of that would mean that I would run an awful risk of being too late with the payments and I don’t want that to happen under any circumstances. I’m determined to complete this purchase as quickly as possible.

For the rest of the day i’ve been chatting on the internet to a neighbour and writing out the notes for the next series of radio programmes. Not that i’ve put a great deal of effort into that, drifting in and out from other things of not very much importance. There aren’t too many notes to finish now so I’ll do them tomorrow and then dictate them. Try to get ahead of where I’m supposed to be.

At LIDL this afternoon I had a very interesting chat about genetics with some woman on the car park. It’s quite rare to find someone interesting these days, especially on the car park at LIDL.

In the shop itself I bought what I need for the next week and then headed for home. I bumped into my cleaner on the car park here and she helped me carry my stuff upstairs. It saves me a couple of journeys anyway.

But in the town, it’s already heaving with people. The funfair is up and running and there are caravanettes just about everywhere. Almost all of the temporary camping pitches are taken already. I suppose that after several years of absence, people are determined to make up for lost time at Carnaval.

Rumour on the grapevine is that they are expecting 100,000 people here for the next few days and in a town of 13,000 people that’s an awful lot.

Tea tonight was veggie balls and chips with a delicious salad. My air fryer is working wonders with the chips and veggie balls and I’m glad that I bought it. But I really ought to try to do more with it. Baking the bread the other day seemed to do some good and I’ll have another go at that.

Tomorrow there’s football on the internet. A bottom-of-the-table clash between Pontypridd United and Aberystwyth Town. It’s a real 6-pointer with the winners clawing themselves out of the relegation places.

Airbus UK Broughton are already down, I suppose, hopelessly adrift at the foot of the table and on target for the lowest points total ever recorded in the Welsh Premier League but there’s all to play for in the other relegation place as three or four clubs fight to avoid the drop. I reckon that Y Fflint and Caernarfon have too much in the tank to be sucked in but the others will have to slug it out.

So in between that I’ll deal with the radio notes and a few other bits and pieces so that I really can have a day off on Sunday and not do very much. There isn’t even any baking that needs doing. Perhaps I might go out for a walk but I don’t want to be swept away by the hordes of Carnavalers while I’m trying to balance on my crutches.

That won’t be very pleasant.

0

Monday 14th October 2019 – SOMETIMES IT’S VERY HARD …

… to say goodbye to people with whom one has been associated for so long, but today is the day that I hit the road, Jack (or Jacques, seeing that I’ll be heading towards Quebec).

4th September I arrived in New Brunswick and apart from 10 days or so clearing out my storage unit in Montreal and visiting family and friends in Ottawa I’ve been here ever since.

If I’m not careful I’ll be putting down roots next, and that will never do. I was born under a wandering star, as the old song went, and I’m destined to wander for the rest of my life until, making reference to a certain posting 6 or so weeks ago when I was still aboard The Good Ship Ve … errr … Ocean Endeavour, Charon ferries me across the River Styx.

With it being Thanksgiving (which reminds me, Happy Thanksgiving to all of my Canadian family and friends and new readers, et Bonne Action de Grace a toute le monde francophone Canadien) we had another lie-in this morning. Nothing like as dramatic as yesterday’s. Not quite so early in bed, a small disturbance during the night, and raising myself from the Dead round about 08:45. But still, I’ll take that over almost any other night that I’ve had for quite some considerable time.

Eventually there was some noise coming from the rest of the house so I went in to join the (af)fray. We had a reasonably heavy brunch, nothing like the legendary Sunday one but a good one nevertheless, and then hung around chatting for ages. Everyone seemed to be in a very sociable mood today.

With me heading for the hills, I managed to make the printer fire up so I could print off all of my travel documents ready for the trip. Another task accomplished.

This afternoon people had tasks to do so I busied myself packing and having another play around on the bass guitar before I put it away in Strider where it will live for the next foreseeable future.

A curry was on the agenda for supper so for a change Hannah and I attacked it. For some reason that I don’t understand, it didn’t taste anything like as good as any previous one that I have made. I hope that I’m not losing my touch!

But as for my carrot soup, well, what more can I say? All of the leftover carrots (because there were tons of them) steamed slowly to warm them up, with bay leaves for added flavour, and then simmered gently for a while in coconut milk with ginger. Finally the bay leaves were removed and the whole lot given a ride around in the whizzer.

Totally delicious.

Finished packing, and leaving a few things behind such as my spare clothes and my deck shoes, because I seem to have acquired a Tupperware microwave fryer and a pile of CDs somewhere on my travels and it won’t all fit in, and then Rachel took me down to Irvings in Florenceville and the Maritime Atlantic bus.

21:15 it was scheduled to arrive, and at 21:15 arrive it did. And remind me never to travel on a Bank Holiday or thereabouts because it was packed and it was a struggle to find a seat. What I did find though was a backpack under the seat, apparently left behind by someone who had alighted earlier, so I took it down to the driver.

We eventually arrived at Riviere du Loup where we all change buses. It was cold, miserable, wet and rainy but nevertheless I had a chat to the driver. He comes up all the way from Moncton, sleeps in the hotel next door, and then drives all the way back the following day. Reminded me of my days with Shearings when I used to do an overnight run every Friday night from Manchester to Glasgow and Edinburgh and return the following day.

And while I was chatting, someone came around “has anyone seen a black backpack?” so I passed him on to the driver.

So now I’m sitting on a seat in a draughty windswept crowded waiting room here waiting for my bus to Montreal to arrive. I’m reaching the end of this phase of my journey and who knows where I’m going to end up next?

As Winston Churchill once said after the British flight from the Germans at Dunkirk, “this is not the beginning of the end. It is merely the end of the beginning”.

0

Thursday 26th September 2019 – HERE I AM …

… sitting on a bed in another one of these places where you don’t rent the room for the night, you buy the motel.

Last night I was dead to the world and slept right the way through the night until the alarm went off without disturbing myself once. There was the tail-end of a dream going round and round my head so I managed to dictate that – such as it was – before it disappeared completely. Nothing exciting though, unfortunately.

Having done a few things, I went upstairs to the kitchen and tried to make a coffee. Eventually, I managed to figure out the machine so that was good.

Sandra came to join me later and we had breakfast and a good chat. Then I had a shower and packed Strider ready to leave. We swapped the cars over and I headed off into the torrential rainstorm.

I was right about the turn of the cards – my wish hadn’t come true. But then I never really expected that it would. But the combination of Ottawa and the events of the past six weeks together with a music track appearing on my playlist and a “memory” about my farm all collided together at a vulnerable moment and I ended up in a deep, deep depression that has followed me around all day and won’t go away.

The weather didn’t help of course, and neither did the roadworks. It took an age to negotiate myself out of Ottawa and I must have passed the same guy on the same street corner three times until I had come to terms with the roadworks.

On the highway the rain was dreadful and the first of a long, long set of roadworks put the evil eye on just about everything. I was soaked going to the bathroom, soaked fuelling up Strider and then in Montreal amidst the major road reconstructions there I ended up being unable to join the lane that I wanted due to standing traffic. I was pushed sideways to the west and instead of going up Highway 40 and over the ferry at Sorel, I ended up on Highway 15 and over the new Champlain Bridge.

So here I was and here I stayed.

I stopped off for a coffee at Tim Horton’s at St Hyacinthe, home of many a tractor pull, and then continued through the storm.

At Quebec I misread a sign (Riviere du Loup for Trois Rivieres) and ended up going over the Laporte bridge by mistake. I had to turn round and fight the rush-hour traffic to pick up my route again.

So here I am in Montmagny and here I’m staying for the night. The Motel Centre-Ville. I’ll have a good night, a shower in the morning and then continue on my way.

So if anyone wants to contact me, don’t be shy. I have another three weeks here at least.

And who knows? This wish might even come true. You never know.

0

Wednesday 25th September 2019 – I’VE BEEN SPENDING …

… my money again today. And how!

Sandra’s sister’s husband’s son-in-law (yes, real Happy Families) owns the largest second-hand CD store in Ottawa, coincidentally in Cooper Street, and so I was invited down there to see what was going on.

And by the time I left I was loaded up with 7 CDs – and I hadn’t even finished checking the Bs.

There were some magnificent finds in there too – including a rarest-of-the-rare Live album by Atomic Rooster from 1971. I’m looking forward to hearing that.

Last night was another good night for sleeping but once more there was another hour or so of disturbance. And for a change Castor didn’t put in an appearance – for as far as I can remember because I haven’t listened to the dictaphone as of yet.

Sandra was up early so I joined her for breakfast and then we hit the streets. She had a Spanish lesson so she dropped me off at the Tim Horton’s in Bank Street to await the opening of the CD shop around the corner.

Afterwards we went for a drive down to Wellington Street West in the city where there is a vegan restaurant called The Table. There you make up a plate of food and you pay by weight. Delicious it was too.

And I thought that I recognised it, because I have been here before. Saturday, to be precise.

We visited a map shop for a railway map (no luck) and then a Thrift shop to look for a charger for the Sony handycam but no luck there either.

Sandra’s sister had called us during the day so we were invited around there for the afternoon which was very nice. We went for a walk and saw the devastation that had been caused by the tornado a year ago – houses still empty and others smashed.

Later in the evening we went to Brian’s armed with vegan burgers and he cooked them on the barbecue while he played us some music by a singer called Amy Macdonald – and I’ll be checking her out in due course.

Back here, Sandra pulled out her fortune-telling cards. Apparently my secret wish is going to come true, which will come as a hell of a surprise to Castor, and I’m going to live for ages and be rich and happy.

It got my age wrong too.

When I mentioned all of this to Sandra she told me not to be so negative. And she’s right – I have to be positive and think positive thoughts. Rather, I suppose like the boxer Jack Johnson who once said that the secret to a perfect composure was “to eat jellied eels and think pleasant thoughts”.

So now I’m off to bed. I’ve a long day tomorrow so I need to get some sleep. But for some unaccountable (or maybe not so unaccountable) reason I’m not ready yet and I think that tomorrow for a very good reason I’m going to be one extremely unhappy and disappointed bunny.

Tom Petty summed it up completely –
“A red-winged hawk is circling
“The blacktop stretches out for days
“How could I get so close to you
“And still feel so far away?
“I hear a voice come on the wind
“Sayin’ you and I will meet again
“I don’t know how, I don’t know when
“But you and I will meet again”

Nothing is more certain than that. So let’s finish on a positive note, hey?

-1

Tuesday 24th September 2019 – I HAD MY …

… nocturnal voyage last night of course, but don’t ask me where I went because I have no idea.

All I know is that there’s another rambling 10 minutes or so on the dictaphone and it all seemed to have happened over an hour or so starting round about 02:45.

Np prizes for guessing who was accompanying me though. Having had a couple of days of rest, certainly Castor was back on duty during the night. I wouldn’t have not remembered that.

The alarms went off at 06:00 as usual but it was … errrr … some time later that I roused myself. Plenty of time for medication and to do a few things that needed doing before Sandra came down and we had breakfast together.

After breakfast I had a shower and Sandra washed my clothes for me which was very nice of her.

Then I hit the streets. I was aiming for the centre of town and the museums. The most important one here in Ottawa is the Aviation Museum but it’s closed one day a week as regular readers of this rubbish will probably realise, its day of closing is Tuesday.

That left, inter alia the Houses of Parliament. But the notice that I had read on the internet that amongst the items that I’m not allowed to take into Canada’s Parliament building are
“any pointed object (e.g. knitting needles and letter openers), electric stun guns, martial arts weapons or devices, slingshots, replica guns, explosive devices, ammunition, fireworks, knives of any size, razors and box cutters, tools, blunt instruments, flammable or harmful substances”.
So what’s the point of going if I can’t do any of that?

That left the War Museum so I went there. I arrived at 10:00 for what was expected to be a 2.5 hour visit, but I left there at 16:00.

Finding the place was exciting. There are road works all over Ottawa and I couldn’t turn right into the street where the museum is. That led to a frantic 10 minutes trying to find a way in and I passed the same road three times.

In the end, I drove right through Gatineau across the river and out around the back so that I could line myself up correctly.

And the car park has a height limit of 6’6″ so the roof bars on Strider made a mess of one or two of their signs.

Part of the time was spent looking at the military records of my great grandfather Thomas William Cooper. He was 50 when he signed up to fight in World War I but he lied about his age and his medical record shows that he “looked about 34” in 1914.

What they made of him having a son aged 20 who enlisted at more-or-less the same time isn’t recorded. But the Canadian Army was desperate for men and they couldn’t care less, especially as he had prior military service in the British Army in India and South Africa.

However, when he was demobilised due to ill-health in late 1917, they had his date of birth – 1864 – correct and his card is marked “age 53 – looks his age”.

I was then let loose on the exhibits and spent most of my time looking at the vehicles in the basement. They even had an early Fordson E83W van in there, and they bring back many happy memories for me because when we were small, my father had two of them one after the other – KLG93 and XVT772.

We used to travel all the way down to Kent in them in the late 50s and early 60s and it was a nightmare cramped inside there at a maximum 35mph for 250 miles.

We were so delighted when my father traded XVT in and bought a CA Bedford 967NVT. A beautiful van, complete with windows down the sides and proper seats for us kids, but the bodywork rotted off that right before our very eyes.

By 16:00 I was ready to leave and having checked that the car park would be open later, walked into the city.

I went to the Supreme Court to check it out and to work out an escape route for when I’ll be in there. And I managed to find a good way out too. I’l be back tomorrow to stash some civilian clothes and cash there. But one thing though – it took me longer to pass through “security” than it took me to case the joint.

Up to Parliament Hill to check that out too but it wasn’t so successful. Ottawa is a mess right now, everything is under repair and the Parliament buildings are surrounded by fences, piles of gravel and workmen. All disappointing.

Back at the War Museum and found it to be all locked up, including the car park. I did a couple of laps of the building before I found an intercom. A voice at the other end told me to go to the main door and wait – so I did.

After waiting a while someone came for me so I said “I’m sorry to have kept you waiting” – and he looked through me as if I had two heads.

But then he had to answer his radio, and he spoke in French. So when I said “je m’excuse pour le derangement” and he actually replied.

A monolingual Francophone in Ottawa. Who would have thought it?

The payment machines had been switched off so they needed to be switched on again. And then my card didn’t work on either floor so I had to use a new one.

Then I could rescue Strider – and he left his mark on a couple more signs on the way out.

Tea tonight was leftover pasta and then I decided on an early night.

After all of the excitement today, I’m keen to see where my voyages are going to take me. But before I go, seeing as I’m in a little maudlin mod right now,
here’s a certain little relevant something for one of the people who I believe is currently reading this blog.

I hope that it means something to you.

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Monday 23rd September 2019 – THE ANSWER TO …

… last night’s question about where I might end up during the night is “I don’t know”. Or, more to the point, “I can’t remember”. Yet I was certainly somewhere. And on at least two occasions too (and maybe more) judging by the files that are on the dictaphone.

As of yet I haven’t listened to the tracks so I can’t even say with whom (if anyone) I was travelling last night. And that’s always the exciting part of course. I can’t wait to get to grips with the dictaphone notes and type them all out. That will mean editing the blog back as far as … gulp … 26th June. So that’s really going to be a labour of love, isn’t it?

The alarms went off as usual at 06:00 but it was a good hour later before I showed a leg. What with the medicine and all of that and a general tidy-up I was upstairs in the living room at 08:00. Sandra came to join me a little later and we had breakfast and a really good chat for ages.

A little later on, once the tremendous rainstorm had subsided, we went for a walk to buy groceries for tea tonight. She lives on a new housing estate tucked on down a side road right at the end of a commercial zoning area and this area is alive with ethnic shops and restaurants from the Middle East and the Indian sub-continent.

We stocked up with tons of stuff of all kinds of varieties, had a look at the big cinema across the road (nothing there that tempted me at all) and then went for lunch. There’s a place that covers pitta bread with various toppings (I had vegetables), toasts them in a gas-powered pizza oven and then folds them over to eat.

Absolutely delicious they were too.

But while I was out, I did a very foolish thing that maybe I shall come to regret – but ask me if I care.

There’s a pawn shop along the highway nearby and we went in more out of curiosity. And my eye was inexorably drawn towards a Genz Benz 200-watt combo amp and 15-inch speaker with tweeter.

Way overpriced at $CAN 350 but nevertheless this is a serious piece of kit and the guy in the shop lent me a bass guitar to sit down and have a play, which I did for over half an hour. It needed a good clean (which it had at the tender mercy of my fair hands) and then quite some use before the dust on the potentiometers disappeared, and then it had the most wonderful sound that I have ever heard.

Anyway, to cut a long story short, it’s now joined the Fender practice combo in the back of Strider and I didn’t pay anything like the asking price for the outfit. One very happy bunny here.

All I need now is an opportunity to go out and put it to work while I’m over here in North America. I have everything that I need, including a guitar strap that I managed to negotiate into the deal. High time I started bringing in some money isn’t it?

This afternoon we went for a walk. There’s an abandoned railway that runs past the end of Sandra’s street right along the riverside and it’s been converted into a cycle path and pedestrian walkway. The weather was quite nice so we made the most of it, walking all the way down past the Belltown Dome towards the city as far as the public beach at Britannia Park.

The beach cafe was closed (this ridiculously short tourist season in Canada gets on my wick, as regular readers of this rubbish will recall) so we walked back again. Sandra went off to practise her Spanish and I did a few chores on the laptop.

For a change, I made tea tonight. One of my pasta-and-bean-in-tomato-sauce surprises (the big surprise being that it was edible) and it went down really well which is always good news.

And then we tried to fire up her ancient Sony Handycam 8mm camera to watch some of her old family videos, but to no avail. Dead batteries (as you might expect) and no battery charger. Anyone have an old Handycam going spare for a few days?

After another really good chat (we seem to find tons of things to talk about ) I’ve come to bed. An early night and hopefully a voyage that I might actually remember. It’s no fun going anywhere if you can’t remember where you’ve been.

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Saturday 21st September 2019 – OTTAWA!

So here we all are, people, despite all of the prophets of doom and gloom. Strider, Strawberry Moose and Yours Truly nicely settled down in Ottawa in the bosom of another branch of family – one that I never knew that I had until I posted a casual remark on a page on the internet.

This world is far too small for my liking, as I have said before, except for my cousin Sandra.

And do you know what? It’s two years TO THE DAY that we met on the only other occasion, in Kingston.

A rather late-ish night last night but a really good sleep, and awakening to find no less than FOUR voice files on the dictaphone, one of which goes on for 00:08:42 and I’d love to know what that is all about.

I had a laze around for a few hours and then a shower, a shave and a general clean-up before slinging all of my gear into Strider.

A walk took me around the shops to buy some deodorant as I have run out, and some food for the next stage of my journey. And the crisis is over, it seems. Epinette, or Spruce Beer, is back in the shops. They are minus two bottles now.

On the road now for Ottawa and fighting my way through the roadworks and traffic jams and breakdowns. It took me ages to pass through Montreal this afternoon.

But soon I’m on the clear road and Strider and I can open up a little. I’m doing 100 kph – the legal limit on the highway – and everyone is going past us as if we are standing still.

What’s the matter with Canadian drivers? Don’t they understand anything about speed limits?

There’s a rest area ahead so I pull in for lunch. Baguette, tomato and hummus again. A ride on the porcelain horse and then a trip down the road to the service station where I saw fuel at $1:13 a litre (I saw it at $1:09 a little later) even though Strider didn’t really need it.

Back on the highway in the heat and I’m in Ottawa in about 90 minutes. Roadworks everywhere of course. But I find the chocolate shop to buy some chocolates for cousin Sandra who is kindly hosting me for the night.

Sandra has a lovely house right by the river, so it’s a good job that I have o holes in my socks or anything to let the side down.

Recently, I had heard from “a reliable source” that there was a really good Indian restaurant in Ottawa. “Ohh yes” said Sandra. “It’s on the corner here” so off we trot. A tiny place and we have to wait 20 minutes for a table and then another 45 minutes for the food. But I do have to say that the food made it worth every minute of the wait. It was delicious.

Sandra’s sister was passing briefly so she called in for a chat too.

Back at the house we exchanged family stories and then I went off to bed. Sunday morning so a lie-in, I hope. I think that I’ve earned it.

So now that I’m in Ottawa, what will tomorrow bring me?

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Tuesday 29th May 2018 – IT WAS A BIT …

… of a shame about last night.

What with all of my efforts of recent days I made a point of going to bed at a relatively early hour last night so as to have a head start for today. But instead, I had one of the worst nights’ sleeps that I have had for a long time. One every unhappy bunny here again.

But anyway I was up at a reasonable-ish early time nevertheless but I wasn’t in the mood for breakfast quite then. I ended up for a while talking to someone on the internet about nothing in particular.

But after breakfast there were things to do, like another batch of photos to edit and a blog to update seeing that I didn’t do it before going to bed last night.

Once all of that was out of the way I occupied myself with a knotty problem on the 3D program that I use. And while I’m none-the-wiser, I’m certainly better-informed. And it’s hard to believe that with having done nothing but that this morning, I ended up going for a late lunch.

After that, it all went wrong.

There’s lots to do here but firstly there was a crowd of neighbours hanging around outside the building so I went to join them. Regular readers of this rubbish will recall that I’m not the most sociable of people at the best of times, but when one is living ina close-knit community like this, one has to show willing.

And even that was interrupted by the arrival of Gribouille the ginger cat who allowed me to pick him up and stroke him for a while, much to the surprise of everyone else.

Once all that was out of the way there was only time for a coffee before it was time for me to go out for my afternoon walk. But at the moment where I was just about to put my sooty foot outside the door the heavens opened and we had another drenching. I dunno who it is up there, but just let him know that he missed me.

Eventually it eased off and so I could go for my walk. And at least it kept the grockles out of my way which is also nice. I started off in my raincoat but by the time that I was back here it was boiling hot, clammy and close, and I was sweating.

That reminded me that I had forgotten my shower this morning so I hopped underneath for a general clean-up. And I cut my hair as well seeing as it was getting all a bit long.

While all of this was going on, Liz came on line with a computer problem that needed resolving, and Sandra wanted to chat about my plans for summer. Trying to fit my guitar practice in was all rather complicated.

Tea was a frozen kidney bean and aubergine whatsit from out of the freezer and then I had a nice walk around the walls.

normandy trader port de granville harbour manche normandy franceThere wasn’t a great deal going on on the seaward side of the walls, but round on the harbour side, I noticed that Normandy Trader was back in port.

She’s been in and out of here quite a lot just recently and so she must be getting a lot of work. And that reminds me that I haven’t seen anything of Grima for a while. I shall have to make further enquiries

And despite the huge piles of gravel building up on the quayside, we haven’t seen a gravel ship for a while either.

One ship that is back in port though, ready for the summer season, is the Marité. But she was moored in a position where I couldn’t take a decent photo.

eglise notre dame de cap lihou turret house haute ville granville manche normandy franceAnd why I was prowling around trying to find a good spec, it suddenly came into my mind that I had never taken a decent photograph of the turret house built into the walls by the Eglise de Notre Dame du Cap Lihou.

So this seemed like as good an opportunity as ever to deal with that little issue. After all, it’s a beautiful house and I could quite happily live in one of those turrets, especially with the superb view that it has over the harbour.

And now, I really AM going to have an early night.

I hope that it’s a good ‘un.

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Thursday 21st September 2017 – REGULAR READERS …

Thousand islands bridge st lawrence river ontario canada september septembre 2017… of this rubbish might recognise this bridge, because we’ve seen it before.

Back in 2010 in fact when we were on our way to Montreal and then Labrador.

It’s called the Thousand Islands Bridge, because there are a whole load of islands, maybe even a thousand, in the St Lawrence River just around here.

Back then, we saw the bridge from the Great Satan side of the river and you may well be surprised to learn that today, I am once more on the Great Satan side.

And it took all of my self control and restraint to do it too.

This morning I was up some time after the alarm went off and had a few things to do – such as a shower and to have breakfast, and to catch up on yesterday’s paperwork.

By 08:00 I was on my way, exactly as planned – something that surprised even me. I was decanted straight into the morning rush hour, but then that was only to be expected. While it is always a disappointment to be held up like this, I had made due allowance.

Once I’d cleared the rush-hour traffic, which took 50 minutes to clear 10 kilometres, I was able to bowl along quite rapidly.

st zotique st polycarpe st telesphore quebec canada september septembre 2017Flying down Highway 40 I went past several villages that I had previously not noticed.

So which one of these is your favourite village? St Zotique? St Polycarpe? Or St Telesphore? They don’t half have some weird names for some of the villages in Quebec.

But there again, Quebec is a very strange place, as you might already have discovered.

kingston ontario canada september septembre 2017It’s about 350 kilometres from where I was staying to Kingston in Ontario.

And despite having stopped for fuel and a coffee, and taking a little detour around the old canal on the edge of town I was in Kingston for just after 12:00.

That was well in advance of my appointment and so I was able to go for a little walk around the town – and make a decision that it’s one of those places that I will have to come back to visit when I have more time.

sandra cooper strawberry moose kingston ontario canada september septembre 2017And here is Sandra, making the acquaintance of Strawberry Moose.

And while that was going on, let me tell you a story.

My Great Grandfather was a soldier who served in the Wiltshire Regiment in India and South Africa and fought in the Boer War. But some time in the early years of the 20th Century he and his family emigrated to Canada and lived in Montreal.

He enlisted in World War I despite being well over age, and presumably died of wounds because his body is in the Military Cemetery at Mount Royal under a military headstone, despite not dying until the early 1920s.

His wife hated Canada, the cold, and all of that and so as soon as her husband was buried, she was on the next boat back to London.

They had several kids and the youngest kids, one of whom was my grandmother, returned to the UK with their mother.

A couple of the older children were by this time married and they remained behind with their own families. And when I was looking into the military history of my great grandfather I came across Sandra, who is the grand-daughter of one of the older children who remained in Canada.

And so she’s my cousin at several times removed.

As you know, this may well be the last time that I shall be in North America, and I’ve been doing all of the things that I’ve been meaning to do.

Meeting up with Sandra was high on my list, and so here we were, in Kingston, having lunch together and swapping family histories.

After lunch I headed off to Great Satan. And we had the usual border confrontation with a rude, ignorant security guard, who demanded to know what I was laughing at.

They really must trawl the Government Services to find the most unpleasant civil servants, and put them in these immigration booths

However, the guy in the office was quite pleasant and polite, and here I am.

But why am I here? You might well ask.

As I said just now, there are several tasks that I want to perform and several people whom I want to see before I go back to Europe – one person in particular whom I haven’t seen since 2005.

So here I am in the Rodeway Motel on the edge of Syracuse in New York State, conveniently placed on the side of Interstate 81.

From here, Strider, Strawberry Moose and I have about 1,000 miles to go and it’s going to take a couple of days to get there because I’m not able to go as fast as I used to.

It will give him enough time to head for the hills, otherwise he might be getting a surprise visit in two or three days time.

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