Tag Archives: stoke on trent

Friday 16th November 2018 – THIS WAS A …

… really bad day today.

Mind you, this was only to be expected considering that I was still awake at 02:30 this morning working.

It takes quite a while to extract the data files from the failed hard drive on the other laptop and to make sure that absolutely everything was saved onto the external back-up drive.

In fact by the time that 02:30 came round and I was seeing double or even treble and there was still a long way to go, I created a little batch program to do it automatically. It’s amazing how much I can remember of T223 when I put my mind to it.

The net result of all of this was that when I awoke at 06:00 it was all done.

And then I had the job of configuring the other laptop.

This is one that I bought a few years ago when I was living on the farm. I wanted a cheap laptop to work the auto-diagnostic kit. It had to have a CD-ROM but not much else, and someone produced one in which the on-board mouse wasn’t working. And an external mouse is no big deal.

But going back to the issues of the UK’s engagement with the EU, I decided that I ought to go back to having a desktop computer as a main set-up. There’s a company in Stoke-on-Trent that is well-known for making bespoke computers and they would do whatever it was that I needed.

So I sent them a mail and the reply was “we don’t sell our products abroad”. Yes, the UK has never ever got to grips with the idea of the European Union. After all, it’s not the first time that this has happened. Far from it, in fact.

And the Rosemary rang me up and we had a good chat for an hour and a half. We were laughing at the clueless rabble who are running the UK right now, where the guy who negotiated a deal with the European Union then resigned because he didn’t agree with the deal that he had just negotiated. Does it get any more clueless than this?

Finally I could get down to dealing with the High Arctic, only to be immediately interrupted by the pompiers. You can tell that it’s getting close to Christmas – they are now collecting their funds for the annual p155-up, selling their calendars.

This was the cue to have a little doze – hardly surprising – and when I awoke it was almost 13:30 so another late lunch.

This afternoon, I really did attack the High Arctic Day Three and spent a good deal of time on it.

tide on the rocks granville manche normandy franceThat was despite an interruption to join the crowds milling around the Pointe du Roc in the glorious late-autumn weather.

It really was a beautiful afternoon and I spent quite some considerable time watching the waves come crashing down on the rocks just offshore.

It was a typical late autumn scene out there today

aztec lady port de granville harbour manche normandy franceWalking around the headland to the point overlooking the harbour, I noticed that we seem to have a new arrival in port.

I don’t recall having seen this boat before so I can’t tell you very much about it right now.

What I’ll have to do one of these days is to have a wander around down to the harbour one day if she’s still there and see what I can find out about her.

Despite these interruptione, I’d finished all of the meta tags for the photos on Day Three of the High Arctic, split the page into four (or is it five?) and started the meta tags for the pages, when I was overwhelmed.

Not just slumping with my head on the desk either, but on the bed under the covers flat out for well over two hours. And you’ve no idea just how painful it was to awaken. It took me a good 20 minutes to gather up my wits which is a surprise seeing how few I have these days.

Tea was pasta and falafel and then a walk around the walls of the medieval town.

Now provided that nothing else goes wrong, I’ll have an early night and catch up with my beauty sleep. You have no idea just how much I need these days.

Tide on the rocks granville manche normandy france
Tide on the rocks

Tide on the rocks granville manche normandy france
Tide on the rocks

Tide on the rocks granville manche normandy france
Tide on the rocks

diving platform beach plat gousset granville manche normandy france
Diving platform on the beach at Plat Gousset

beach plat gousset granville manche normandy france
The beach at the Plat Gousset

tide coming in plat gousset granville manche normandy france
The tide coming in at the Plat Gousset

port de plaisance granville manche normandy france
View across the town of Granville to the Port de Plaisance

ponton borsalino regate granville manche normandy france
Restaurants down on the port de plaisance.


Wednesday 7th November 2018 – WHILE I WAS …

… cooking my evening meal, I was suddenly taken by surprise by an album that appeared on the playlist on the hi-fi.

Another one of the huge pile of underrated groups of the early 70s I saw the O Band supporting Man sometime in the early 70s in Liverpool and they stuck in my mind. And when I came across their album The Knife in a second-hand shop in Stoke on Trent it was added to my collection. And subsequently it became one of the first LPs to be upgraded to CD.

The second half of the album – several track which, combined together make one long rock opera – is totally phenomenal. It brought back a very bizarre memory of my playing it on a continuous loop along the I95 near Bangor, Maine, USA while I was looking for a motel for the night, coming back in Strider from seeing Rhys in South Carolina last year.

Yes, nostalgia ain’t what it used to be.

With having had a reasonably early night last night, leaving the bed at the appropriate hour wasn’t too difficult. And the howling gale from last night was still blowing too. All very wild outside.

After breakfast I did a few bits and pieces of tidying up and then attacked the second day of the High Arctic trip, when I was in Yellowknife.

And by the time that it came round to lunchtime, I’d finished the pages and was working on the meta tags. It might even be on line by the end of the day tomorrow if I have a good afternoon at it.

Lunchtime was taken indoors today. It might have been nice and sunny outside but with the wicked wind outside it would have been impossible to sit down in comfort.

This afternoon I was hunting for documents to go with this form that I need to send off tomorrow. That took a while and I’m still one or two missing.

storm english channel granville manche normandy franceThat took me up to walk-time and so I headed off into the wind, which by now had abated a little.

But that was merely a hint of things to come. Away in the distance out in the English Channel there was a major storm raging.

I hope that it isn’t heading my way because I don’t fancy the idea of being out in that when it arrives here.

college malraux gates damaged granville manche normandy franceMy walk carried on around the back of the College Malraux, but I didn’t get very far.

Lying on the floor by the entrance to the sports hall is the gate and the gateposts. And it looks as if someone with a great big jemmy has been there trying to open it.

Whoever it was who did that did it with an incredible amount of force and I wouldn’t like to meet him down a dark alley late at night.

storm port de granville harbour manche normandy franceEven though the wind had died down somewhat compared to yesterday, there was still a considerable amount blowing around.

As I rounded the Pointe du Roc I got the lot of it and I could see it all crashing down against the harbour wall.

You can see that the tide isn’t right in either, but there was still enough force in the wind and the waves to make a imressive scene.

secours boat tidal harbour port de granville manche normandy franceBut what’s going on here?

There ars the Pompiers and the SAMU out there, and they have brought their inflatable dinghy with them too.

It looks as if there’s something going on out there on that yacht. All of the medical people seem to be out there having a good look inside the yacht’s cabin.

yacht SAMU pompiers port de granville harbour manche normandy franceWhile I was being harassed by a dog that was not attached to a lead and while I was booting it up the rear end and telling its owner what I thought of him and his mutt, I took a photo of the scene with the zoom/telephoto lens.

Back here, I cropped out a section and blew it up (which I can do these days, despite modern anti-terrorist legislation) to see if I could see any better.

It seems that they are manhandling a piece of equipment – a generator or a pump or something similar – either into or out of the cabin. So I’m still none-the-wiser.

Back home, I sorted out some more things for the form that I’ve been completing and then had to write a covering letter to go with it.

Tomorrow morning, if I can make the printer work, I’ll print out the paperwork and take it with me to posy off on my way to the shops.

Tea was a burger with rice, vegetables and mushroom gravy. And delicious it was too. But I’m running out of frozen carrots so I must remember tomorrow to buy some more for freezing. This lot that I blanched and froze came out rather well.

storm waves cliffs granville manche normandy franceLater on, I braved the wind and went outside for my evening walk around the walls. And took a few photos of the waves in the dark.

The waves were making quite a noise as they crashed down on the cliffs at the foot of the medieval city walls. And much to my surprise, the 50mm lens actually managed to pick up the waves despite the poor lighting conditions.

I was very impressed with this. A similar photo with the 18-105mm lens didn’t pick up anything at all.

waves sea plat gousset granville manche normandy franceFurther on around the walls, I came to the cliffs overlooking the Plat Gousset.

The tide iswell on its way out now and we’re a little sheltered in the bay, but it was still an impressive sight to see the sea storming in onto the beach.

I suppose that I should have been round here an hour or two earlier for the best effect.

rue du roc place d'armes granville manche normandy franceWhile I had the 50mm lens on the camera, I decided that I would take advantage of it by taking a photograph of the old gateway that leads into the Place d’Armes.

This has come out rather well too, and you can see all the way down the rue du Roc to the bottom where the lighthouse is situated.

I do have to say that i’m very impressed with this new 50mm lens.

So after all of this, I’m really quite exhausted. An early night might do me the world of good.

storm port de granville harbour manche normandy france
Waves crashing down on Granville harbour sea wall in storm

storm port de granville harbour manche normandy france
Waves crashing down on Granville harbour sea wall in storm

storm port de granville harbour manche normandy france
Waves crashing down on Granville harbour sea wall in storm

SAMU pompiers yacht port de granville harbour manche normandy france
SAMU and pompiers examining yacht in Granville harbour

waves storm plat gousset granville manche normandy france
Waves in the storm at the Plat Gousset, Granville

waves storm plat gousset granville manche normandy france
Waves in the storm at the Plat Gousset, Granville

waves storm plat gousset granville manche normandy france
Waves in the storm at the Plat Gousset, Granville

Sunday 8th July 2018 – WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT …

canada national parks vimy ridge france… that by the end of the day I would have been setting my foot inside Canada?

Only in your wildest flights of fancy would you have imagined it, but nevertheless, here I am. And quite right too if you ask me.

I DID say “never say never”, didn’t I? And where there’s a will there are relatives. So Canada here I came.

But I’m getting ahead of myself here, aren’t I?

As expected, I had a bad night with my noisy neighbours. But not so bad that I wasn’t able to go off on a nocturnal ramble.

A rather distressing one in fact. Two men were trying to extract a piece of wood from underneath a huge pile halfway up a scaffolding at IKEA of all places. The pile titled alarmingly and caused two yellow dumper-type lorries to swerve. One of them crashed into Caliburn and badly damaged him, but the lorries didn’t stop until they were round the corner. I didn’t know which one was responsible for the damage so I challenged them both. But they both denied it. A friend of mine, someone from school, was travelling as a passenger in one of them and he reckoned that it was the other so I challenged that driver but he still persisted with his denial. I tried to explain that I had seen what happened with the wood so they could hardly be blamed and the insurance would deal with it anyway, but they still refused to admit which one of them it was.

premiere class hotel rocourt liege belgium july juillet 2018Awake before the alarm, I did some more paperwork and then tidied up ready to leave.

I had a gentle moan at the receptionist about my neighbours (it was hardly her fault, was it?) so she offered me a complementary coffee.

It pays to complain, if you do it nicely enough.

Round the corner to fuel up Caliburn, to the Carrefour Sunday supermarket for bread and some buns for breakfast, and then on the road in the blinding heat for France, eating my bread rolls and drinking my coffee as I drove.

My route took me all the way down the motorway well into France, and I came off at Denain and headed for Douai.

Regular readers of this rubbish in one of its very first incarnations will recall that I called Denain “The Land of the Living Dead”. All of that area, Denain, Douai, Doullens, they are all old mining and heavy industrial towns and the collapse of Western European heavy industry in the 1980s affected them terribly.

They were bad 20 years ago but now they are even worse than parts of Stoke on Trent, and that really is saying something, I’ll tell you that. Horrible, sad, decaying cities.

I found a place to stop and eat my sandwiches, and then went to book a room in either Albert or Arras. And I don’t know what is happening there right now but prices are through the roof. There’s clearly something going on.

All that I’ve managed to find in my price range is a flea-pit in Lens about 20 miles away from where I want to be. That’s not a good sign.

But anyway, I’m back on the road and heading for this afternoon’s destination. And The Lady Who Lives In The SatNav is doing her best to confuse me.

But before I actually reach there, I’m side-tracked … "yet again" – ed … by something that’s not on my list of places to visit.

tank cemetery guémappe franceI’d heard of the “Tank Cemetery” somewhere in the back of my mind, where graves were laid out in the shelter of an abandoned tank, but that was up north.

So seeing a sign for the “Tank Cemetery” around here at Guémappe, I went for a look.

It relates to inter alia an action on 23rd and 24th March as a continuation, I suppose, of the Battle of the Somme, when the village was stormed by soldiers of the Loyal North Lancashire Regiment, and then subsequently by a couple of Field Ambulance Units until it was overrun in the German “Spring Advance” of March 1918.

And there are 64 Cameron Highlanders buried in one mass grave here.

foncquevillers military cemetery franceAnyway, I eventually reach my destination. This is Foncquevillers Military Cemetery.

Foncquevillers was a British stronghold behind the front line in early 1916 and it’s where part of the british Army assembled to plan its attack on the Somme.

What we are going to be doing over the next few days is to sketch out the plan of attack of 1st July 1916 when General Rawlinson’s disastrous handling of the the Third and Fourth Armies led to a debâcle unparalleled in British history and a disaster second only to Dunkirk.

I’m not going to write too much about it here because there is so much to say and I can go on for ever … "not with a bayonet through your neck you couldn’t" – ed … and besides, it’s going to be spread over a couple of days … "and several fields too" – ed.

So I shall just say that I had a very pleasant afternoon ambling through the sunshine.

And you’ll be surprised at just how much is left to see after 102 years. Most of the stuff has been ploughed away but you do occasionally find some gems.

But from there I headed north to Lens. All 45 kilometres of it and it’s rather a drag.

vimy ridge memorial franceBut Rupert Brooke famously talked about “a corner of a foreign field that is forever England”.

What he didn’t say is that there’s a couple of corners of foreign fields that are forever Canada and I’m standing in one right now.

I came here with Nerina 30 years or so ago, but I’ve no idea where my photos might be, and so I came by again.

vimy ridge memorial franceAnd for those of you who couldn’t see the monument clearly, here’s a close-up of it in all its glory.

It’s a monument not only to the events on Vimy Ridge over Easter 1917 but also to all of the fallen Canadian soldiers who have no known grave – more than 11,000 of them.

And their names are engraved on tablets as we saw at the Menin Gate at Ieper.

vimy ridge memorial franceYou can see why possession of Vimy Ridge was something worth fighting for – if anything is worth fighting for, that is.

The view all over the plain between Douai and Lens is phenomenal, and it’s the first real occasion that the British and French had of actually overlooking the German front lines – the Germans always going for the heights.

But I’ll come back to all of that in a bit.

Right now I’m off to my hotel. I eventually find it by the railway station in Lens. I’m pretty disappointed with this one – not for the least of the reasons being the weird landlady who clearly ought topass the bottle around instead of keeping it for herself.

The room is OK and stifling hot, so I nip downstairs and bring up the fan. That’s much better.

A quick wash of the undies and I sit down to do some work but my heart isn’t in it and eventually I drift off to bed with most of the stuff undone.

I can’t keep it up these days like I used to.

Sunday 19th February 2017 – WHAT A NICE …

… meal that was!

Alison took me to the Indian restaurant on the Grote Markt for a birthday treat. I had a lentil curry which was delicious. not as good as mine and certainly nothing like as good as you might find in a restaurant in Stoke on Trent, but for an Indian restaurant in mainland Europe it was excellent.

Just for a change I had an excellent night’s sleep. Well away with the fairies right until the alarm went off. And I was on my travels too. Back to the hotel that bore a startling resemblance to the place in the Ardennes where I stayed in November. I was there with some people, one of whom was a disagreeable person with whom I worked at that weird American company where I spent 12 of the most bizarre months of my working life. She was complaining (as usual) about something or other and I had to go down to sort it out. This involved descending (at breakneck speed) a set of stairs with two different doors at the bottom. One of them was the door into the main area but the other one would take me round the back down a long dark alley, and that was the route that I decided to take.

Alone again at breakfast, which suits me fine of course, and then back down here where I had some work to do. I have a meeting on Monday and I need to be up-to-date with my paperwork. So I went throught and sorted it all out yet again. And I now have much more of an idea as to what I need to know for tomorrow at 11:00.

I had a nice chat on the internet with some nice friends of mine and then went for lunch. Nothing to go on my butties, but I had the other half-uncooked demi-baguette from yesterday (they come in packs of two and I used one for my garlic bread last night) so I baked that and used some more of the packet soup that I had bought from LeClerc when I was in Sedan.

Alison came onto the internet – she was going to the English shop and would I like to go? Well, do bears go for picnics in the woods? I went for a quick shower and a shave too look pretty, and Alison picked me up and off we trotted. I bought some more Dandelion and Burdock, more Bombay mix, some vegan burgers and a big bag of oven chips. Now I have all of my food (except the lunch stuff) until I leave here, and there’s even tons of stuff left that I haven’t used. And that’s a surprise.

We passed by here where I could dump everything in the freezer compartment of the fridge, and then off we shot into town for coffee, the Indian meal and a very lengthy chat.

Back here, seeing as how I’ve started to celebrate my birthday early, I opened a packet of mint sweets that I had brought back from Canada. Just a few – the rest are for later.

And now it’s early night time – I’m busy tomorrow.

Monday 5th December 2016 -DRAT AND DOUBLE-DRAT!

The other week, we discussed the problem of burst tyres on the motorway.

And so it should come as no surprise to learn that it was the turn of Yours Truly today.

Not quite on the motorway – in fact about 400 metres after I’d pulled off at Montlucon. But a flat tyre just the same. There’s a nail in it somehow.

Luckily, if there is such a thing that can be called lucky, regular readers will recall from 2012 when I had a blow-out on the M6 near Stoke on Trent, I’d pushed the boat out and bought three really good Hankook tyres. The fourth was a second-hand cheap tyre that I had bought because of the wheel that was attached to it. There was plenty of tread on it but I didn’t expect it to last very long. Anyway, it’s this one that has the puncture.

There’s a spare on Caliburn and that was a second-hand one that I bought for the wheel (it was the time when I was collecting a second set of wheels for the winter tyres). But when I had a look at it … well … I’ve thrown away better tyres than this. A fair amount of tread to be sure, but standing around for as long as it has has done it no favours. But at least I was mobile with not much effort.

selfish parking montlucon allier franceMy new enhanced mobility took me to the LeClerc supermarket where I stocked up with another big supply of food for Belgium. And while I was there, I had another big laugh at the selfishness of other drivers.

The driver of this car parked it up at the supermarket – and pretty badly parked at that – and walked away – and then turned round to come back and parked his car even worse, straddling the white lines.

The selfishness of people is astonishing, isn’t it?

Having done the shopping, I went off in search of some tyres. I’ve ordered two brand-new Hankooks and they will be delivered on Friday. They will be going on the front, the other Hankook that is still on the front will be the spare, and the nasty spare tyre will be going in the bin.

But I’m not thinking very clearly here. What I should have done was to forget about the new tyres, come back home and fitted Caliburn with his winter tyres on the front. And the money situation is going to be important because on the way down from Leuven, I could feel the other wheel bearing start to tighten up and that’s going to have to be looked at. It’s yet more expense that I can do without.

I had a decent sleep last night and the breakfast at the Premiere Class was quite good. And then I hung around there doing stuff until about 11:00. When they threw me out of the hotel I hit the road and drove steadily down to Montlucon

tacot railway station narrow gauge bourbon l'archambault allier franceI cut the corner off down at the end of the road and came back through Bourbon l’Archambault, and this building caught my eye.

You should all know what it is because I’ve taken you to see a few of these. It’s the old railway station of Bourbon l’Archambault and the railway concerned is the tacot, the metre-gauge railway network that covered the Allier during the first half of the 20th Century.

Built far too late to have a decisive influence on the country’s transport policy and built too cheaply, serving the layout of the terrain rather that the needs of the passengers (one commentator described the railway stations as decorating the abandoned landscape), the only surprise was that they lasted aslong as they did before road transport swept them away

There’s a new chain of budget hotels opening in France – called Ace Hotels. One has been built on the edge of Montlucon and so I went for a look around.

ace hotel montlucon allier franceAt just €49:00 per night, it’s excellent. Certainly the best budget hotel in which I’ve ever stayed. The only complaint is that there aren’t enough of them yet.

My view from the window was excellent, right across the motorway and into the Combrailles at the back. That’s where I’ll be heading tomorrow.

So in the meantime, I ordered a pizza and wasn’t that a disappointment? Overpriced, undercooked and crushed up on one side of the box – someone had carried it vertically.

I shan’t be going to that pizza place again.

Saturday 2nd April 2016 – NOW, HERE’S A THING.

Even though I’d had an early night last night, I slept right through the night and didn’t remember a thing. I didn’t leave the bed once and it’s been a long time since that has happened. I did have some kind of nocturnal ramble though, but all that remains in my head is meeting Sue, a girl whom I knew from Swindon, taking her by surprise as I stuck my head around the door where she was working, and there was also some kind of road transport that consisted of a vehicle from the 1920s but with no engine – instead there was some kind of rotary pedal arrangement that required two people to operate it – something similar to a pedalo.

It took me ages to pluck up the courage to leave my comfortable bed – I’m feEling the strain now, that’s for sure. But then I went for something of a walk to find a boulangerie , without a great deal of success. There was a street market today, and an artisan-baker had a stand there, but she was selling “normal” bread by the kilo and not a baguette in sight.

I ended up at the little Carrefour supermarket in town and bought a baguette and a couple of other things from there and then wandered off to the car park to pick up from Caliburn what I need for lunch, falling almost immediately upon a boulangerie – and then another one about 100 metres away. But that wasn’t all that I fell upon. Around the corner at the back of the hotel is an Indian restaurant. They advertise a vegetarian curry with plain rice, with side dishes such as a garlic naam, and the prices looked so reasonable so that I’ll be going that way tonight to see what it all tastes like. It’s been years since I’ve had a good meal from an Indian restaurant – Montreal last August in fact.

From what I saw of Givet, it’s a pretty little place. A small French town with a maze of narrow streets. It’s clearly seen much better days, like most places in France, but its history is impressive. There’s a huge citadel that is perched on a headland and overlooks the town and in ordinary circumstances I would have gone up there. But these, unfortunately, are not ordinary times as we all know.

Back at the hotel I didn’t move very far at first, but at 13:20 they came around to clean the hotel room so I had to wander off outside for half an hour to take the air and go for a stroll along the river. And after lunch, I crashed out for a couple of hours, despite my mega-sleep last night.

I didn’t do very much at all later on, except to go out for my meal. And I need to be careful about saying that it was something of a disappointment. Stoke on Trent it isn’t, of course, and it’s something astonishing, as I will be the first to admit, to find an Indian restaurant in a town like Givet. That’s a fact worth celebrating on its own and I don’t regret having gone there for my evening meal. These kinds of places deserve all of our encouragement and support.

Back at the hotel, I climbed wearily up the stairs and into my bedroom. I switched on the laptop and discovered that the internet speed and strength had collapsed. I waited for about half an hour to load up the internet but I crashed out long before anything had loaded.

About an hour later, I woke up with the radio still playing, so I switched off the laptop and went back to sleep.

Friday 2nd October 2015 – AT THE FERRY TERMINAL AT LES ESCOUMINS …

Our hero “can I have a ticket for the next crossing to Trois Pistoles?”
Serving Wench “sorry, we don’t do that here any more. You have to contact the terminal at Trois Pistoles”
OH – “how do I do that?”
SW – “you have to ‘phone them with your credit card number” (gives OH the brochure with the phone number°
Ferry Terminal at Trois Pistoles “Our office is open 7 days a week from 09:00 to 16:00 (it’s now 13:40 by the way) but we are not able to take your call. Please contact us by internet”
OH “the phone isn’t working. I have to contact them by internet”
SW “okay”
OH “do you have the internet here?”
SW ‘yes we do”
OH “well, can we do this here by internet”
SW “sorry – we aren’t allowed to do this for customers”
OH “well, can I do it on my behalf then?”
SW “sorry but customers aren’t allowed to use our internet connection”
OH “well is there public internet access then here in the terminal?”
SW “no there isn’t”
And so Our Hero tracks down an internet connection in a local salle de quilles (bowling alley) and makes the reservation himself far, far quicker than it took to enter into discussion with the Serving Wench.

Whatever is the world coming to? As I have said before … "and before and before and before" – ed … the legendary North American customer service is going rapidly down the tubes.

But anyway, last night I did have an excellent night’s sleep. Just what the doctor ordered. Although I did have to heave myself out of my stinking pit on one occasion.

I was also on my travels again too. To Stoke on Trent, in fact, and back to the house of someone whom I used to know up until about 2008. It’s been 7 years or so since we last had any contact and so when we were in his living room waiting for Godot or whoever it was, I asked what new videotapes he had to watch.
“We just watch the same videotapes over and over again” he replied.
There’s quite a probable reason why this person has appeared just now. On my social network account I have noticed quite recently that both his wife and his daughter have been having a look around at my doings, although they weren’t around last night. Not that it bothers me of course – I’m pleased to have the visitors but it has been puzzling me for a couple of days. I didn’t realise that I was that popular

dawn pointe aux outardes st lawrence river highway 138 quebec canadaThere was not a drop of condensation anywhere at all inside Strider this morning and I didn’t think that it was that cold.

But it was cold enough to freeze the butane can again and I had to roll it around in my hands for five minutes before there was enough pressure to make a good-enough heat to boil the water for my morning coffee. And then I could sit quietly and admire the sunrise – what I could see of it anyway through the rainclouds – with my breakfast.

outardes one hydro electric generating plant st lawrence river highway 138 quebec canadaAnd I found the old power station at Outardes One too, as you can see. And it wasn’t easy to find either.

I drove around the town for a while but I couldn’t see anything, but in the middle of a housing estate I saw a sign indicating a “Footpath to the Old Quay”. Now I knew that the quay was at the mouth of the river and that the old power station was on the river close to its mouth so that seemed like a good plan.

outardes one hydro electric generating plant st lawrence river highway 138 quebec canadaThe path was a very steep drop down about 300 steps and then when we reached the bottom, the path to the old quay went to the right but there was another path that led off to the left and so I tried down there.

A couple of false starts led me up a few garden paths but I eventually arrived at the building. It was all locked up and the doors and window welded closed. But peering through the windows I could see that all of the turbines had been removed.

outardes one hydro electric generating plant st lawrence river highway 138 quebec canadaIt’s possible to walk all around the outside of the premises though, and you can see how the water arrived here. It’s not a waterfall or a tunnel bored through the rock, but a couple of conduits on the surface and covered in concrete.

The water goes through the turbines in the building and then out of the building into the river that passes by below.

Going back was much easier than it might have been. Obviously they didn’t bring (or take away) the power station material via the steps and so I had a good nosey around and eventually found an old asphalt path that might have been a roadway. This took me up to the main highway but there was a gate and fence that was all closed up and padlocked.

That’s not inhibited me before as you know, and it was no great inconvenience. And then a nice long walk on a reasonable surface took me back to Strider.

I bought my SatNav in 2010 and every time I’ve come up Highway 138 The Lady Who Lives In The SatNav leads me up the garden path at Portneuf and dumps me at a steel barrier down the end of a dead end.

derelict abandoned dismantled bridge portneuf st lawrence river highway 138 quebec canadaThe town has been by-passed with a modern road and a modern bridge further upstream, but I was curious to see what was at the end of the dead end in Portneuf and so I backtracked on the SatNav route.

This took me through a campsite and up to the river and here I am. The steel barrier is up at the top of the hill over there. presumably there was a ferry and later a bridge across here, I should think.

This was a good place to relax and I had a crash out for half an hour, which was hardly a surprise.

strawberry flavoured soya drink canadaI also took the opportunity to arrange my shopping from yesterday, and I can show you this that I bought.

I’m a vegan, in case you haven’t guessed, and like all vegans, I have issues about Vitamin B12 which is very difficult to find in vegan foods. But this strawberry-flavoured soya drink contains 16 essential nutrients, including a good healthy dose of B12, and so I wish now that I had bought a week’s supply, especially at $2:59.

l'heritage st lawrence ferry les escoumins trois pistoles quebec canadaThen we had all of the nonsense at Les Escoumins but I eventually made it to the quayside, such as it is, for the ferry.

L’Heritage, the ferry that takes us across the St Lawrence, finally pulled in. It was looking very sad in 2011 and it’s looking even worse today. She was built in 1973 and looks every day – in fact every minute – of her age.

But anyway, once Noah and his menagerie and Julius Caesar and his soldiers had disembarked, we could load ourselves up.

l'heritage st lawrence ferry les escoumins trois pistoles quebec canadaThe crossing was quite rough – although it wasn’t really. We had plenty of wind to be sure and it was cold, but there was no reason why the ship should have been swaying around as much as she was. Presumably it’s because of her flat-bottomed design but I don’t remember swaying around like this last time.

I had a couple of rounds of toast on board and that took me up to landing time.

It was dark too and I wasn’t going to find a place to doss down in these conditions. I found a cheap motel on the edge of Trois Pistoles and I’ll stay here for tonight.

Thursday 13 August 2015 – FOR THE FIRST TIME IN MY LIFE …

…I’m ready well in advance of time to go.

Well, I’m not. I have been looking for three days for the $200 that I drew out of my Canadian Bank before leaving last October, so I’m having to go without it. And now I know why I drew it all out too. My Canadian bank card expired back in May!

So I hope that my European cards work, otherwise I’m going to have a couple of problems.

Mind you, it was touch and go that I got here in time this morning. I’d been out in Eastern Europe in a city that straddled the border between the East and the West. I was in the east with a party of people (as it happened, people with whom I worked in Stoke on Trent) and we were in a coach or a train that wasn’t moving but the seats were comfortable. Anyway, who should turn up but Nerina, with her Afro haircut of the early 90s. She sat next to me and ended up sharing my bunk, and I could see all of the people looking around and quizzing each other as to who she was.

I asked her how she had made it over to here – did she come by rail through the East, because I was interested in the trains that she might have seen, but she had come to the railway station in the West and walked across the border, which disappointed me.

So first job was the washing up. And that was when I made a startling discovery – that I had brought some water up last night to do the washing-up, and then left it on the side and went to bed. I’m definitely getting old, aren’t I?

And then there was the beichstuhl that needed emptying, cleaning and refilling, such delightful jobs that I have.

I’ve also cleaned the waste bins and isn’t that a first?

Liz came for me and we went to the mairie to pick up a Certificat de Domicile but as I expected, it’s closed for the holidays. I must remember to ring up on Tuesday! I did meet Valentin there though, loading up the Commune’s little van. We had a good chat and it seems that he’s re-signed for Pionsat this year, and that’s good news! I’ve no idea why he went to play at Terjat.

piaggio APE brasserie de la gare montlucon allier franceLiz and I went for coffee in the brasserie opposite the station.And while we were there, this interesting Piaggio APE pulled up just opposite.

I had a brief chat with the owner but he didn’t say very much. But he didn’t mind me taking a few photos of it (it’s always polite to ask).

It brought back a few memories of the Piaggio APE50 that we discovered on waste land in Brussels and which now resides – or it did, the last time that I heard anything about it – in Stoke on Trent

SNCF single unit diesel passenger train franceHere’s my train – a little single-unit diesel. I’ve not been on one of these before. But it’s nice, clean and comfortable – a far cry from anything that you find on the rails in the UK.

And we set off bang on time too, which is another far cry from life on the rails in the UK. And one thing that I like about France – “we regret that the toilet on board the train isn’t functioning. If you need this service, please make yourself known to the guard who will arrange for a longer stop at one of the stations that we visit”.

Mind you – I was half-expecting that we would be offered the possibility to pull up on the main line at a suitable hedge.

I didn’t realise that there were two railway stations in Montlucon – but I do now!

The line to Riom is what can best be described as “bucolic” – what one writer once wrote as a “merry, mazy ramble” across the Auvergnat countryside. I’ve advanced about 25 kms but it’s taken me an hour and a half and about 90kms to do it.

diesel multiple unit riom puy de dome lyon franceAt Riom it’s pouring down – a real torrential downpour – and my train is bang on time. And then this is where I realise that it’s lunchtime and for once in my life I’m caught without a supply of food about my person.

By the time I reached Vichy it had stopped raining, but it had started again at Tarare.

place part dieu lyon franceFirst stop at Lyon was at the Subway for a very late lunch. And it was at here that we had the usual Subway dialogue-
Our Hero – could I have a 12-inch with nothing but crudités?
Serving Wench – do you want cheese with that?

trolley bus lyon franceThere are trolley buses in Lyon these days – I hadn’t noticed that before. It seems that all of this “obsolete” transport of the 1950s – trams, trolley buses – was not obsolete at all. In fact, it was a hundred years ahead of its time. And it seems to be doing its work here in Lyon too because the streets are much less crowded than any other European city that I’ve visited recently.

As for my hotel, it’s 5 or 10 minutes away from the station. It’s modern and clean and tidy, with all of the services to hand. I had a lovely vegetarian pizza (I always bring my own cheese) for tea. It seems that this idea of flying out of Lyon, at least to here, is paying off in spades.

And as good an idea as it might have been, it could be even better too, believe it or not, because there’s a cheap budget hotel – the Athena – with rooms at €58:00, actually built into the station block. A walk of about 50 yards.

I shall have to look closely into this, but not tonight because although it’s only about 22:00, I’m crashing out.

Sunday 8th September 2013 – “NOTHING IS MORE EMPTY …

clinton agricultural fair fairground maine USA… than a deserted fairground” said John Betjeman in his book First and Last Loves.

So I reckon that he must have been to Clinton, Maine in the past because, believe me, this was empty and deserted. Mind you, it was something silly like 07:30 in the morning in the middle of a torrential rainstorm so that might have something to do with it.

Anyway, we didn’t hang around any and we were on Interstate 95 pretty early heading back northwards. A stop at Dysart’s truckstop for breakfast (for me, beans on toast with hash browns on the side) but, unfortunately, no cheerleaders, and then off shopping to a place called Sam’s Club.

Anyone from the UK will immediately recognise the concept only under another name – Makro – a trade warehouse for small businesses.

We ended up with three trolley-loads of stuff to bring home but I reckon that I won the prize, finding a copy of “Dragon”, the speech recognition software that works with my new dictaphone, and all for $45, which is cheap in any kind of currency.

We were so long in there that the sun was out when we left, and by the time we arrived at Houlton, it was a pleasant evening. Here we changed partners. Darren and Rachel were in a rush to get back home but Zoe still needed some shopping so I swapped passengers, and Zoe and I went on a rather fruitless expedition around some of the Houlton shops.

abandoned rolls royce scrapyard bridgewater maine USAThe border crossing is at Bridgewater in Maine – that brings us over to Centreville, and here at Bridgewater is a junkyard and a sight that you don’t see every day – a scrap Rolls Royce. THat shows you just how much these new Rolls Royes have degenerated since the days of the Silver Cloud in the earky 1960s.

It’s not the first Rolls Royce that I’ve seen in a scrapyard. The legendary McGuinness’s in Longport, Stoke on Trent had a Rolls Royce in there for a few years, but that was full of silt to a depth of about 9 inches – clearly major flood damage and probably only Third-Party insurance. Beyond the financial capability of anyone to put right, I imagine.

But this one seems to be undamaged in the general scheme of things – I reckon a major repair bill that is beyond the capacity of the owner to put right and enough to frighten off any prospective purchaser.

But what a way for a Roller to meet its end – stuck at the back of a junkyard off the beaten track in the wilds of Maine. That’s a sad story.

Friday 16th December 2011 – JULIE’S MUM …

loaded caliburn ford transit… said to me that I could fit a few extra things in Caliburn, because her son in law (Rob) had told her that it would be quite empty coming back.

Well, absolutely. As you can see.

Shall we run through all of the stuff that isn’t there? Like no scaffolding for a start? No rolls of insulation?

As Clare said when she saw the photograph “it’s a good job that I forgot to ask you about the three-piece suite”. Plenty of room for that.

I left my hotel fairly early and did another trip around the supermarkets and tool supply places like Screwfix and Toolstation, all for stuff that I had forgotten.

Another trip down to my storage box and collect the last of the stuff that I had ordered. And my luck was in again – I managed to source another Ford Transit wheel for Caliburn’s winter tyres.

Northampton was next, and Michael very kindly sorted out a 98-litre immersion heater for me from his plumbing supplies place. This is for the solar hot water at home.

Rosemary had asked me to call at a place in London for 7 rolls of this space-blanket roof insulation, and then back out to Luton for Rob and Julie’s stuff.

No wonder I was exhausted.

I made it down to Pompey – Portsmouth – with time to spare – which surprised me totally. Enough time in fact to go to the chippy for another huge dollop of beans and chips all smothered in malt vinegar, just like the evening that I arrived, which seemed like a year ago.

Now I’m sitting in the queue for the ferry, which leaves at 23:59. I hope that there’s a nice corner for me to curl up into. I’m exhausted!

Tuesday 13th December 2011 – WELL, THAT’S THAT THEN!

Last night I parked up at the side of the road for a good sleep. But unfortunately, it didn’t quite work out like that.

Firstly, we had a heavy, torrential downpour of freezing rain that lashed the van for quite a considerable period during all night.

Added to that, we had a temperature that plummeted through the floor and it was as cold as Hades.

I’ve slept in the cold before and it doesn’t bother me, but I think that I’ve picked up a bug or something because I spent most of the night shivering.

So with a streaming head-cold, feeling absolutely whacked and not in a good mood, I hit the shops today.

Benchdollar as usual for another load of pipe clamps. Switchblade steel supplies for a load of aluminium profiles – all kinds of stuff like that. A couple of supermarkets too like Tesco’s and Morrisons, and a rummage around in my storage box to see what the Postman had brought me.

But later on, with the freezing temperatures and my streaming cold all combining to make me thoroughly miserable, I was idly surfing through the net when it came to my attention that the “Travelodge” at Poplar Motors had rooms available, and at a bargain price too.

Feeling rather under the weather like this – and there’s a lot of weather to be under right now – I’ll do myself a mischief if I keep on sleeping in Caliburn.

Poplar Motors is ideally situated for where I want to be and what I want to do, and so now I’m shacked up in a warm, comfy room with central heating and I’m not moving for the rest of the night no matter what happens.

Monday 12th December 2011 – I’M CURRENTLY …

… at Tibshelf Services, on the M1 not too far from Mansfield. And I’ll be moving off in a bit to find somewhere to sleep for the night.

caliburn overnight parking A43 towcester ukLas night though I was parked up in my quiet little hidey-hole on the A43 near Towcester.

It was flaming cold too, seeing as how Brain of Britain here had forgotten to plug in his heated seat pad into the bed and I didn’t enjoy it one little bit.

But a nip down to the Motorway Services at Rothersthorpe for a good hot wash and scrub soon brought me back to life again and I was on my travels again.

But Towcester plays a big part in urban folklore from when we were young adults, and it concerns my friend Alvin.

Where we are on the A43 in the road that goes east-west. Back in the early 70s the A5 went through the town north-south and drops down from quite a steep height into the town, and then climbs back out to the south.

Alvin was on his way to London to see his girlfriend Anne on his old Triumph 500 and as he breasted the rise, he put the bike into neutral and coasted all the way down the hill into town.

He climbed a good way back up the hill under his own momentum and then put the bike into gear, opened the throttle to hear the comforting roar of the engine, and then dropped the clutch.

And nothing.

He tried another gear – and still nothing.

He eventually discovered that the chain had come off the bike. And after a good search, he eventually found it. Right back at the top of the hill way the other side of town. So much for his early start.

As for me and my … errr … somewhat less-than-early start, I started off at Radio Spares in Corby. Another pile of stuff that I needed from there today.

Up the road to Ilkeston and Vehicle Wiring Products. Stuff that I forgot last time, and stuff that I worked out that I have needed since. This is a handy port of call for anyone with all of its motor vehicle electrical accessory fittings.

Finally of course, I spent a couple of hours in the IKEA near Ilkeston. Another trolley load of panels, a big bag of furniture screws and fastenings, a few plastic boxes and some general bits and pieces for this and that.

Tibshelf is another Roadchef Services, like Sandbach, and so its internet connection is quite reliable. It gave me an opportunity to check up on some stuff here and there.

So now I’m off in the general direction of Stoke on Trent and to find a place to kip down for the night.

Monday 12th September 2011 – THE FUNDY SHORE

After I pleasant day at Colleen’s, I was back on the road once more

ossies fried clams southern new brunswick canadaBut I didn’t get far. It was lunchtime and I found a fish and chip shop.

And this place is noteworthy for two reasons

  1. it sold real chips. Nice proper lumps of potatoes, not these horrible matchstick things
  2. it was the first place that I have ever encountered in North America that had real malt vinegar on offer.

And they were delicious too. And it was really nice sitting outside in the sun.

blacks harbour ferry terminal grand manan island southern new brunswick canadaFirst stop this afternoon was at Black’s Harbour where the ferry goes over to Grand Manan Island. And look what’s parked up over there. I’m sure that it’s the ferry that was under repair in Pictou last October when we there there.

And as a matter of fact, she is. It appears that there are two ships that ply across the waters, but only one in winter. And last winter she was laid up as her replacement was due in the spring. However the arrival of her replacement was rather late, and then the other one was involved in an accident back in May, so she was pressed back into service.

Her ultimate destination seems to be hauling gravel for a company in Quebec – the usual fate of many old ferries out here.

lighthouse road beaver harbour southern new brunswick canadaWhenever you see a road called “lighthouse road”, that’s a cue for a deviation – or, at least, it is in my case.

And I’m glad that I came down this road too because some of the scenery is magnificent. According to the church in the distance, this area here is called Beaver Harbour and if so, that’s an old Quaker settlement where a bunch of United Empire Loyalists came to settle.

And you can see why they came to settle here, cant you?

The road to the lighthouse was all closed off so I couldn’t go down there, but a thing like that isn’t likely to put me off.

drews head lighthouse beaver harbour southern new brunswick canadaWhere there’s a will there are relatives, and so here I am round on the next headland down with a telephoto lens.

It’s Drews Head lighthouse, so I’m told, there has been a lighthouse on here since as recently as January 1876 although this is not the original. It was replaced by a skeletal tower-type of construction in the late 1960s and the fibreglass skin that you can see dates from 1984.

point lepreau nuclear power station southern new brunswick canadaWhat we see right out there is the nuclear power station situated out on Point Lepreau. It’s the only nuclear power station in Atlantic Canada and is something else that was quite controversial in New Brunswick.

After years of debate, the New Brunswick Prime Minister Richard Hatfield announced that it was going to be built, regardless of whatever conclusions an Environmental Assessment committee reached. It was built in the early 1980s and cost three times the estimated amount.

It’s suffered all kinds of problems caused by, amongst other things, poor maintenance and employee sabotage, and there has been a variety of work-related accidents and illnesses. An 18 month overhaul, started in March 2008, took four and a half years to complete.

I went out there for a drive around to see what I could see, but it’s hidden in a forest so you can’t see it from close up.

point lepreau river waterfall southern new brunswick canadaInstead, I went off to see if I could find the famous waterfall on the Lepreau River.

The river is only about 30 kms long but has quite a descent over that distance, culminating in a drop of about 6 metres over this granite ledge.

Below the falls is the tidal limit of the Bay of Fundy and on the incoming tide you’ll find salt water down there. In fact, you can’t see it in this photo but the tide is coming in as I’m standing here.

island view saint motel john new brunswick canadaWhen I was here ten years ago, I arrived after dark and left before light so I didn’t take a photo of my motel that night.

So here we are. This is the Island View motel where I stayed, on top of a hill to the south of the city of Saint John. I seem to remember that there wasn’t that much to write about this motel, but I don’t remember criticising the price either so it must have been a reasonable deal.

saint john new brunswick canadaThere’s a convenient hill just a little way around the corner and so I wandered off to see what I could see.

And sure enough, there’s a beautiful view down the river towards the city of Saint John (and you mustn’t forget to always write the name in full – that’s quite important).

You’ll notice all of the modern skyscrapers there. Saint John is the second-largest city in Atlantic Canada (after Halifax) and also one of the wealthiest

reversing falls saint john new brunswick canadaI can’t believe that I’ve managed to time my arrival so badly – when the tide is at mid-point.

Over there are the Reversing Falls – at low tide the level of the tide is about 4 metres below the level of the river and at high tide, it’s about 4 metres higher. Consequently, at either high or low tide, you have a spectacular spectacle right underneath the bridge.

business sector saint john new brunswick canadaI took thousands of photos here at Saint John, and one day I’ll post them all somewhere for you to see.

You’ll remember just now that I posted a photo of the city taken from distance, and showed you the tall modern buildings on the skyline. And so here, right in the centre of the city, we can have a view of them from closer up.

tropical containers saint john new brunswick canadaWith there being water around, there are bound to be ships. And I’m not disappointed either because this is a huge harbour and there are dozens about.

However, never mind the ship for the moment – take a look beyond it at those shipping containers with the word TROPICAL written on them? They are, would you believe, going to feature in our story in a few days’ time.

saint john new brunswick canadaBut I hope that you aren’t expecting to see anything really historic in the city because, beautiful as it might be from this perspective on the waterfront, there’s very little in the city dating from before 1877

In that year, there was, for the benefit of those of you who know very little about the history of Canada, a devastating fire raged through the city and destroyed 1612 properties and caused $28,000,000 of damages.

Not like the fire that raged through Bentilee in Stoke on Trent, destroying 1612 houses and causing £30 worth of improvements.

Saint John was in the front line during the disputes with the USA. In the early days, the border between Canada and the USA had not been resolved, and the USA was claiming as far up the coast as the mouth of the Saint John River.

fort howe saint john new brunswick canadaOf course, Britain was having none of that and the mouth of the river, especially on the shore, was quite heavily fortified.

This is Fort Howe, built during the War of American Independence following the Siege of Saint John in 1777, the “Howe” being the Commander of the British forces in North America at the time. It has the distinction of being the first site in Canada to be designated a National Historic Park.

carleton martello tower saint john new brunswick canadaWay over there in the distance (thanks to the zoom lens) is the Carleton Martello tower, one of only 9 now remaining in Canada.

This dates back to the War of 1812 and was built to guard the entrance to the harbour. It was in use during World War II as an anti-aircraft gun tower (the Canadian Government had more faith in the Luftwaffe’s technical abilities than the Luftwaffe did) and observation post, and during World War I had been a prison for deserters from the Canadian Army.

old city market saint john new brunswick canadaI did say that Saint John was one of the wealthiest cities in Atlantic Canada, and you can tell that by looking at some of the buildings around here.

This is the old city market, situated on Charlotte Street. and dates from 1876. It’s the umpteenth Market Hall in the city, and regular readers of this rubbish don’t need to be told what happened to the others.

The building deteriorated considerably after World War II but underwent a major renovation between 1987 and 1990.

trinity anglican church saint john new brunswick canadaChurches are always a good indication of the wealth of any community, and no-one is going to be disappointed by this church. This is the Trinity Anglican Church in Germain Street and was founded by United Empire Loyalists who fled here in 1783.

This imposing pile dates from 1880, and you don’t REALLY need me to tell you what happened to its predecessor, do you?

king edward 8 bandstand kings square saint john new brunswick canadaThere’s a beautiful park right in the centre of the city – King’s Square, it’s called. And right in the middle is a bandstand, the King Edward VIII bandstand, dating from 1908.

It’s not very well-known, (so I shall publicise the fact) that I once made a bandstand. That’s right. I set fire to all of their chairs.

I’ll get my coat.

poorer areas of saint john new brunswick canadaI said that there was plenty of evidence of former wealth in Saint John. And there is also plenty of evidence of current poverty too. This street here would not be out of place in any industrial city in the north of England.

If that’s not all, I stumbled upon a bingo hall which had a game actually in progress. The hall was pretty full too. Just how sad is that? It really did remind me of Stoke on Trent on a bad day.

And some ageing hippy has just come up to me. He was having a good look at my telephoto lens and, pointing to it, said “hi – you must be one of those long-distance photographers”.
“I’m from the UK” I replied. “Is that long enough?”

k c irving oil refinery LPG processing plant saint john new brunswick canadaBravely battling against the lack of light, I rejoin my vehicle and head out of the town, continuing my journey to the north-east and leaving behind me a load of photographs that I must deal with some time.

Just outside the town is the immense KC Irving oil refinery and LPG processing plant. It really does look like a desperate scar on the landscape, but as long as people want to drive around in cars, what do you expect?

A phrase involving omeletttes and eggs springs to mind.

And now it’s dark, I can’t see what I’m doing, but there’s a truck stop ahead. That’s going to be as good a place as any for me to lay down my weary head.

Monday 11th July 2011 – I really don’t know …

… what happened to today.

For a change I was awake reasonably early and after breakfast I had my nose pressed firmly to the keyboard here by 10:00. I’ve been working this morning on a bit about Canadian Railways and so I was pretty much engrossed, and what with one thing and another it was about 13:20 when I stopped.

I nipped outside after that to carry on with my solar panel frame. First task was to sort out all of the fittings that I bought in the UK. But hereby hangs a tail – half of them are missing – including the important bits for my framework. Sudsequent enquiries reveal that there were two boxes of stuff for me at Benchdollar, but they only gave me one of them. GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR

Next task was to cut the scaffolding poles to the right length. And could I find my angle grinder? Could I elephants. In the end I found the old one, rewired that and used it (having to use two drills and a screwdriver to change the disk). And of course, after all of that, as soon as I had finished, I found the proper one as you might expect.

That took me to, would you believe, 16:30, and time to get ready for the Pionsat Patrimoine meeting. Here, I have never known so many people gifted with the capacity for fitting the smallest amount of thought into the largest amount of words. Everyone was jostling for position and you could here the egoes banging together. Absolutely everything became a conflict – it was awful and I was glad to get away. It surely can’t go on like this. It was worse than a meeting of the Open University Students Association

We went off to St Gervais d’Auvergne and the Anglo-French Group afterwards. Terry is talking about adding a dumper to the fleet and I’m thinking seriously about a cherry picker. We’ll have a famous pool of equipment at the end of it all.

Tomorrow, I’m off hunting a Roman spring, so I won’t be finishing this flaming framework either.

Tuesday 21st June 2011 – You might be forgiven …

… for thinking that I haven’t done a tap today.

And in fact, I’ve hardly set my foot outside the door at all. What with one thing and another I’ve been really busy up here today.

I had another … errrr … late-ish morning (I’ve not recovered from the other day yet) and then did some work on my website until the battery went flat. Once I switched the inverter on, I then set about dealing with my mailbox. Dozens of useless mails have gone into the bin, and I’ve created loads of directories into which I’ve filed tons of stuff. Once I work out how to configure a mail server I’ll download a pile of these obsolete directories onto my computer and then delete them from my web site.

With a nice streamlined mailbox I then attacked a load of outstanding correspondence and that’s all en route. But there’s tons of stuff that I haven’t done and I’ll be here tomorrow as well getting all of that up to date.

opening of art gallery pionsat puy de dome franceI was “summoned to attend” the opening of an art gallery in Pionsat at 16:30 as Marianne from the Parish magazine needed a report and some photos and she was otherwise engaged elsewhere.

I bumped into Francois who was wandering around the village with a lady-friend and we went for a coffee and a chat.

And it seems that my little hint to the local newspaper about the closure of Radio Arverne’s Loubeyrat antenna has been picked up and they have decided to run with it, and in spades too.

Back here I carried on with the mail (missing tea, unfortunately) and I’m now on the verge of appointing accountants and creating a limited company for my little wind farm.

There’s also the possibility of some kind of consultancy on the horizon too – it seems that there’s a company in Canada that specialises in this kind of thing and it will save me endless hours and endless amounts of cash tracking down a suitable wind turbine supplier if they already have the contacts.

I’ve also made an astonishing discovery too on the Maplin website. How about this little thing? Never mind the negative reviews, posted by people who don’t seem to understand the principle of wind turbines, this will be a fascinating little gadget to have on the side of the house here, and if I make it detachable, it will be good for use at shows and also for sticking on the side of Caliburn whenever we are parked up at the seaside. That’s an excellent price too, and even as we speak there’s one winging its way to my new mailbox in Stoke on Trent. I’ll have to have a play with that.

And so tomorrow I’ll be up here again carrying on with the correspondence. And quite right too – there’s tons of it to do.