Going Gently

Home...high and wet

Victoria station, like the rest of the UK was flooded this morning on our way back to Wales. I was surprised but we made it back in six hours with only one fairly short delay, which could have been a lot worse given the misery many had to put up with today. Arreva Trains , I must admit put on a particularly disgusting set of carriages for us to stand up in w

hen travelling from Crewe to Prestatyn. It was so dirty,run down and crowded, I am sure it wouldn't have looked out of place in the film North West Frontier (1959)

The dogs were all totally knackered when I picked them up from the kennels, and in a touching display of affection Meg is now welded to my thigh and sleeping her first sleep in five days.

Broadstairs was a nice sunny break and as always it was great to catch up with Sorrel, but like the queen of all queen's Judy Garland always said "There's no place like home!"

I have experienced facebook, the other day, when a friend e mailed me with a"want to join facebook?" invitation. Haven't a clue how it all works, but it does look a bit too geeky (hum even for me) to join in full time

pacing

The picture just about sums it all up. If you go to a beach daily, you assume a certain pace to life. Sit, sweat,drink coffee,read, sleep and watch; all very relaxing! I think I have got into the way of it all rather quicker than Chris, who has been suffering today with the heat and humidity.( and a burnt forehead)
The beach was rather quiet today which was bliss, yesterday afternoon was a tad of an ordeal as several
thousand ten year olds from inner city London ( well at least several hundred of them at least), descended on the sands with a score of harassed looking 17 year old teachers!
Tonight we are off to Chris' brother for dinner and last night were fed and watered by Duncan and Izzy

chris' nephew Leo (pic) is a sweet little chap who resembles the cute looking Milky Bar Kid. I know I am hovering around my usual Grumpy old man status when I say that I find him very sweet and very polite! which does make a refreahing change nowadays!

Holiday weather

Apologies for the bad photo (taken by phone) but it sort of illustrates how lovely the weather has been today. Spent the day on the beach and although Chris was nursing badly burned feet in the shade, Sorrel ( looking remarkably like Farrah Fawcett- Majors) and I sat in the glorious sunshine.

I cannot really remember how long it has been since I have read books uninterrupted in the sunshine and have been battling all day with 102 Minutes by Jim Dwyer and Kevin Flynn. The book is a meticulous and unrelievedly tense chronicle of the events of 9/11 from the perspective of the office workers from the Twin Towers, and is at times terribly upsetting reading. I have made myself quite depressed by it all!

Anyhow on a lighter note I saw from the news this morning that prestatyn suffered a disaster of its own,,albeit a small one. A flash flood shot through the high street spilling raw sewerage into Woolworths (I would have paid to see that) Janet reported that it was all pretty exciting! but at least all the hens are ok and not affected!

Cruel but funny

Recieved this e mail from an old work mate in Sheffield, very funny...enjoy

>>Please give generously to those less fortunate! Major floods hit North >>Britain... Epicentre: Rotherham, England News of the disaster was swiftly >>carried abroad by the town's 35,000 racing pigeons, as victims were seen >>wandering around aimlessly muttering 'fookinhell' and 'chuffinnorah'.>>The flood decimated the town, causing almost £30 worth of damage. Several >priceless collections of mementos from the Balearic Isles and the Spanish >Costas were damaged beyond repair. Three areas of historic burnt out cars >were ruined.>>Many locals were woken well before their Giro arrived. Radio station >RotherFM reported that hundreds of residents were confused and bewildered, >still trying to come to terms with the fact that something interesting had >happened in Rotherham. One resident, 15 year old mother of 3, Tracey Sharon >Braithwaite said:>>'It were such a shock, my little lass Chardonnay-Madonna came running into >my bedroom crying. The twins, Tyler-Morgan and Megan-Storm slept through it >all. I were still shaking when I were watching Jeremy Kyle t' next >morning'.>>However, locals were determined not to be bowed, as looting, muggings and >car crime carried on as normal. So far, whilst the British Red Cross has >managed to ship 4000 crates of Sunny Delight to the area to relieve the >suffering of stricken locals, rescue workers searching through the rubble >have found large quantities of personal belongings including benefit books, >jewellery from Elizabeth Duke at Argos, and bone china from >Pound-Stretcher.>>Can You Help? Please respond generously to our appeal for food and clothing >for the victims of this disaster. Clothing is needed most of all, >especially:>>Fila or Burberry baseball caps>Kappa tracksuit tops (his / hers)>Shell suits (female)>White sports socks>Rockfort boots or any other product sold by Primark.>>Culturally sensitive food parcels are harder to put together, but your >efforts will make a difference. Microwave meals, tinned baked beans, >ice-cream and cans of Colt 45 or Special Brew are ideal. Please do not >donate anything that requires peeling.>Remember: 22p buys a biro for filling in compensation claims, £2 buys >chips, crisps and a blue fizzy drink for a family of 9, £5 will pay for a >packet of B&H and a lighter to calm a child's nerves. And for only the >price of a bottle of house sparkling wine in a south west London pub will >be able to buy a house for a typical household of 9 + 3 dogs!>Urgently required: Tinned whippet food, Caesar for Jack Russells. Please do >not send tents for shelter - the obvious improvement in housing might cause >residents to believe they have been forcibly relocated to Sheffield.>>_________________________________________________________________

beach behaviour

Now there is a beach hut standard of behaviour to follow when setting up your "pitch", and Chris' family has had a much famed beach hut on the picturesque Broadstairs seafront for eons. First you stake your claim to the sand by coveting as much of it as humanly possible! The side windbreakers are erected first, then beach toys, sun loungers and tables are all arranged just so! The idea is to have an encampment (akin to the wagon trails of the of the old west), so that the women and children are safe!

The view may be slightly limiting and with the board walk situated in front, the view reminds me of, somewhat of a stage with a whole series of strange characters passing regularly.

Anyhow the weather has been nice today and tonight will be going out for a nice meal in a local wine bar (only a couple of wines for me as I had too many last night on an empty stomach! and kept telling Sorrel how lucky she was to have a nice son-in-law like me!

Travel

I am writing this snippet of blog on the train from Prestatyn to Broadstairs. As usual we are crammed in “nose to nipple style” in the no-so-quiet coach, but at least we have a seat, some strong coffee and Chris’ computer on which I have just watched the best bits of The Day After Tomorrow. Tapping away on the keys makes me feel like the academic sort I am definitely NOT, but it is nice to develop the illusion, albeit for the shortest of times.

Public transport in Britain, is paying lip service to better service, but generally the standard of customer care is bordering on the third world for much of the time. The exception of this (in train travel anyway) is the service between Manchester and Sheffield, the trans Pennine service, is clean, comfortable and on time in my experience as well as being the most scenic of journeys. The worst service (and I have discussed this at length before on my blog) is the trailer trash arriva trains wales service along the North Wales coast, which often resembles The Jerry Springer Show on wheels. (Enough said about that!)

I have to be fair here and stand up for the supertram in Sheffield, which was a godsend to me when we lived in Hillsborough. Like the transpennine trains, supertram was clean, efficient and user friendly, and I do miss those late night Friday night trams home after an over indulgence at The Dog And Partridge and All Bar One; crammed to the gunnels with tipsy benign Yorkshire types stinking of beer and cheesy chips.

Public transport in Wales is virtually non-existent. Prestatyn does have these “nipper” buses, which always remind me of my brother Andrew, who likens them to (and I am quoting here) “handicapped buses!!”, but the village and surrounding rural areas have bog all! This is why the staff at my hospital have been so pissed off with the staff parking charges soon to be enforced there. The staff and indeed patients have no choice but to drive often long distances to attend what is essentially a rural hospital with virtually no bus links; to be charged for this (100 quid a year) is totally disgusting! Anyhow I digress, and back to our virgin train to London.

I am looking around at my fellow passengers. Opposite is a couple in late middle age reading the Daily Mail. Her name is something like Patricia ( I am guessing as I think it says that on her husband’s tattoo). They are off to London for a “show”, probably Phantom, and have booked a nice hotel off Oxford Street. Over the way is a classy looking woman of 50 who is reading a book about Nancy Mitford (we like her as she’s polite and silent) and opposite her is the usual young mother and tiny baby. Now before Mike and Bev lynches me for baby bashing I must admit the little scrote have been very well behaved, and his mother thoughtful mindful of the fact that when he cries, she is quick to walk out of the carriage with him. The rest of the passengers (after Chester and Crewe where the great unwashed Welsh holiday makers tumbled off) seem like a quiet well behaved lot! (hurrah!!!) with only one bloke is sticking to the great UK tradition of swigging cider from a can at 11 am in the morning.

God, I am such a snob!!