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Showing posts from August, 2015

From North Sea to English Channel

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Hosing it down this morning. A proper English bank holiday Monday. Getting up, we all went off to do various things in town this morning, Lorraine and I drifting about, laughing at how dreary it was. But it was good to see Whitby in gritty mood. It is still a really picturesque place, and the townspeople and visitors seemed to stride around with undiminished enthusiasm. Wiry northerners in shorts and wet tops, not using their hoods in the rain. We all met up again for a final drink together, before Lorraine, John and I walked the others off to the bus station. Betty staying with Sam for a couple of days.  Fond farewells. It had been a really fun few days. Then Lorraine, John and I had a last inevitable plate of fish and chips in a small backstreet chippy. The fish was excellent here too. Then off to the car and Lorraine started the epic drive down to Brighton. We stopped off in the North Moors for a bit, looking down at a big hole in the ground, the Hole of Horcum, which legendaril

Strolling to Robin Hood's Bay

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A slow start, munching toast and tea drinking. Then Sam, Jade Lorraine and I decided to go for a six or seven mile walk along the cinder path (as recommended by Matt) to Robin Hood's Bay. It followed the course of an former railway track, and began pleasantly tree-lined, then crossing a viaduct over the Esk to be out of Whitby then two or three hours walking. After the first hour or so we paused at a slightly banjo strumming pub to discuss Aristotelian ethics and a beer (S & J) and soda and limes for Lorraine and I. Enjoyed the sight of a dog lapping top from a man's pint of bitter. "He only likes the head, but it makes him sneeze," said its owner proudly, who then happily drank the rest. We continued along the track lined by wildflowers, a caravan site and big stretches of stone walled fields sloping down to the sea. Eventually we turned a corner to see Robin Hood Bay stretched out before us at high tide. We called a halt at The Victoria Hotel, where we found

Sam in the Magpie Cafe

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A heroic breakfast in our pleasant appartments, then after birthdaycard and present opening for Sam (plus a couple of late ones for Jade) whose birthday it was, and phoning Pat whose birthday it also is much showering (the water is all connected so washing a few plates or pulling a toilet chain resulted in ghastly yelpings from whoever was showering). Then we surged out into what was a surprisingly gorgeous day. Big heavy rainclouds that somehow missed us apart from the lightest sprinkle at first. There is a big beach below the West Cliff and we headed down to this after looking across at the ruined Abby. Wrong side of the Pennines, but like a Lowry picture nevertheless, due in part to the large number of dogs about. What was different was the utterly gorgeous light there. This really is a picturesque place. After this we all wandered onto the pier, where Lorraine and I walked to the end, over quite widely spaced boards with the sea below at one point that had Lorraine slightly unner
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Beach scenes under the west cliff at Whitby, a man landing mackerel at the pier, views of the harbour and the ruined Abbey.

Northward bound

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Up and a big breakfast of scrambled eggs and bacon and toast with Mum and Mas, who was in BC mode (before coffee). Nice to catch up with them albeit briefly before heading off early to Whitby. Journey took most of the day, with a three motorway stops. One place somewhere north of Grantham appeared to be the scene of a nasty conflict between Northerners and Wasps. Once we were deep into Yorkshire and on the smaller roads, the journey became very beautiful, despite driving near places with Gothic names such as Drax and Goole. In the last half an hour we were up driving beside the North Yorkshire moors. Breathtaking scenes of heather purpled moorland. Then down to Whitby, which looked sunlit and lovely with the Abbey. Almost there and Lorraine drove us down a street which the satnav called 'backstreet Hilda's passage', rather graphic images came into my head at this point, until we saw the road sign for Back St. Hilda's Passage . Our rooms are on Skinner Street and are

Heading north

Rain dodged to the Marwood Cafe this morning for a long chat with Sarah Barnsley and Robin about matters poetical and non-poetical, such as the future of Telltale and so on. I'd told them it was a hipster cafe, and Robin liked it, while Sarah amusingly began her Marwood encounter with a lengthy description of a better cafe nearby.  Back home and a general scampering about getting this ready for our trip to Whitby. I'n my case this involved having a sleep, as I this chest infection persists in making me feel drained.  Heard from Matty boy that the probably destination for my October trip is Chad. I will get a fuller brief at the end of next week. Beginning to look forward to it, as well as feel challenged by it. If things go to plan I will be there on my birthday. After Lorraine got home from work, and John came around and Betty cooked for us all, we packed the car and drove off to Edgware, as the first morsel of our journey up to Vampiric Whitby.  M25 as usual st

Wild rain and golden apples

Nothing but the wild rain again. Feeling damp spirited first thing and conscious of my chesty cold which seems to be trying to stage a palace coup (croup?) and returning. Lorraine and I walked to the post office in the few minutes it wasn't raining. I took the bus to see Janet and Ken this afternoon in the rain, and being fed delicious little pistachio balls and hearing some excellent news: Janet's oncologist told her to go away and come back in a year for a checkup. Ken seeming brighter too, and they'd enjoyed a visit yesterday from their previously tumultuous granddaughter, who is now a model of thoughtfulness. What a difference a year makes. Listening to The Golden Apples of the Sun as an audiobook on the day's travels. I've not read these Ray Bradbury short stories for decades. He is a master of the craft. Home to the cheering news that I have a poem accepted for a magazine called Under the Radar. What is good about this is that it is a new poem. It'

The troubled skies of Monday

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An English Monday morning in August. Torrential rain. Woke up tired as I'd slept poorly. Began filling in three forms to do with an application Telltale are making for an award. My deep love of forms coming to the fore as usual. Despite the rain, compelled to get out, had to renew a prescription at my doctor's, then went to Lewes via the nearby Brighton station for a nice chat with Robin and Nick, and to collect a few pamphlets. They'd been to Croatia for their hols, and were getting ready to move to Eastbourne next month. Shuddered in sympathy as I heard some of the house move stuff. Home via London Road, and up the Hill from there, the sky really quite extraordinary, as the not particularly good snap below, and the one from my study a few minutes later show. I hope Toby's plane journey was not too fairgroundish. A nap on the sofa, as I am still feeling a bit drained by my chest infection. Then spoke to Mum on Facetime who was a bit sad to have said goodbye to To

Toby leaves, Rosie returns

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The Pathetic Fallacy of protracted rain this morning. Toby getting ready to zoom back up to Edgware. Lorraine up early and making muffins, which she took off to Jo, whose house we stayed at in Haywards Heath, and who is now in a hospice. Brief chat with First Matie this morning too. Toby and I had a substantial breakfast together, then we walked down to Preston Park station twice, the second time with his iPad. Still it gave us to talk about the few things we'd not already talked about. Fond farewells. Saddened to see him go as usual. When Toby and I are together it seems like no time since we last saw each other, which is a good thing. Home and a bit of a regroup with Lorraine, who had met her pal Penny and both had a nice chat with Jo. We lurked about before deciding, as the weather spontaneously cleared up, to go for a stroll along the seafront at Hove. Vintage aircraft flying back from Shoreham, the day having been cancelled due to the horrific crash of the Hawker Hunter

Breezing on a hot day

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A large breakfast this morning, with bacon and eggs, chewy brown bread and other fixin's eaten by Toby, Lorraine, Betty and John. Cheery morning, lurking about before Beth and John left. The Tobster liked the likeable John. Toby, Lorraine and I walked into town, swelteringly hot for blighty, but luckily mitigated by a sea breeze. A Thai festival in Preston Park, drummy Thai music drifting across the park, and Singha beer flags a'fluttering enticingly, and stalls groaning with tie die clothing. (OK I made that last one up.) Into the Laines and began mooching in shops. I broke off for fifteen minutes as we passed my barbers and they were uncharacteristically empty. The guy cutting my hair began quizzing me on the Canadian economy, when I told him Toby was over, my answers were few. Caught up with Lorraine and Tobs still lurking in the sort of shops that make a chap's Y chromosome ache. Then a leisurely iced coffee where I joined the ravenous Toby in a flapjack. Nice just to

The Tobster arrives

End of the week, and gradually getting on top of life again, rediscovering some motivation and feeling a bit less chesty. Sent a few emails off, and working steadily through my list of got to dos. A gorgeous day too. In the afternoon Toby phoned already in Brighton, and heading down Trafalgar Street to the nearest cafe. I finished the noodles I was guzzling in the garden, and sauntered into town to meet him in a cafe and we walked back through Preston Park, stopping at the little walled garden, and generally catching up. It was hot, and after walking up the hill (pausing to buy some cold beer (me) and trail mix (Toby) Lorraine kissed a sweat drenched Tobster when we arrived. He was  fortified with sparkling water before we lounged in the garden the garden, with Betty before she moved indoors to help Lorraine fashioned one of her gorgeous balti curries. Cats lurking happily in the sun with us. Romy facetimed too, and we got to see her all smiley in her tidy office. John arrived and

Cleaning windows

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Up and if not actually working, certainly shifting things about on my desk, writing lists of the kind of thing I would be doing if I were in the mood for working, and sending a couple of urgent emails. Lorraine working on her application for a new role, and Dawn popped by this morning to bounce ideas off her. I rapidly lost the will to work, so instead, I got a bit George Formbyish having noticed how unbelievably unbelievably grimy our front room windows were after removing the ghastly Venetian Blinds, I simply washed them, and the few dozen spiders who had made them their home. In the evening Betty and I bused off to The Temple Bar where we met Anton and Anne, and were later joined by Lorraine, who had been doing pilates. Nice pub with tasty Indian street food served to your table, not much to dislike there. Nice to chat to Anne who I'd not spoken to for a while - including a discussion about The Railway Children, which had traumatised Anton as a child. Raining steadily tonigh

Family and fine art

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To the Salisbury to met Toby and Mum. Good to see Toby now entering the more relaxed section of his holiday. Judicious coffees for Toby and I as it was early. Mum had a cider as she was thirsty, and said feeling more relaxed than she had for a while. We sat in there catching up with various bits of news, while we sat near to Paul O'Grady and (I think) Brenda Blethen. I naturally ignored them and Toby and Mum hadn't known them anyway. We wandered through Covent Garden and made our way to Somerset House for we were being piloted by the hidden hand of Romy, who had suggested we go to a restaurant in Somerset House called Tom's Kitchen Restaurant. Turned out it was excellent, and we had gin and tonic and some excellent fare. I had pollock and chips, after a crab cake starter. Amazing how the humble chip can be elevated to an artform in the right hands, gorgeously fluffy inside and crunchy crisp on the outside. From here, and a tad subdued after a large gin and tonic, we brows

Curtains

Lorraine and I having a happy holiday mooching about day today. My chest infection marginally better too. Drove off, in a gorgeous afternoon, to Trading Boundaries this afternoon to buy the curtains that Lorraine had had her eye on for some time. We managed to buy the last two sets, and they fit perfectly in our front room, and are a treat to the eye. We also had  coffee there, and I looked longingly again at the Roger Dean prints. Then to a couple of garden centres where Lorraine and I mooched happily among the flowers, and also talked a good deal about the water feature we hope to have in the back garden one day, and looked at pots for waterlilies and smelled many roses. Home, and a spot of gardening, picking more of the tomatoes that are growing well, and looking for the beans and plums that the snails are particularly liking, then the aforementioned curtain hanging, and I cooked a lively vegetable chilli.  Sitting in the living room, thanks to the curtains, I began to look forw

A bite with 'Anton'

A quiet day at Kenny Towers. Lorraine and Beth rebooting the diet and involved in lengthy mathematical discussions about targets, calories and weights and driving off to buy special foods. I indulged in the luxury of yet another afternoon sleep. This pesky chest infection is very draining. In the evening however I rallied magnificently and sauntered down to the nearby Preston Park Tavern where, eventually, I met Anton, both of us in the pub for ten minutes without actually seeing each other. Excellent to see Anton of course after his trips to the US and Bulgaria and ours to Greece. He bore dispiriting news, however. He has taken up running. He takes every opportunity he can to run everywhere now. He goes down to the seafront to run every morning, he runs to the bakers and the shops. He was looking fit and springy and tanned, from a enjoyable holiday among friendly, hospitable Bulgarians on the Black Sea coast. All the silent sullen ones must have convened at the Hotel Kamelia. From

A happy home

Lacking motivation today, feeling tired and chesty and sleeping a good deal. In contrast Lorraine up early taking the car to the garage, where it was mended without breaking the bank thank goodness. Lorraine and I spending lots of time discussing what needs to be done with our living room, and also the replacement of our front door, which despite the giant snake Lorraine made, still has a keen draft blowing under it. We are going to have shelves made at one point, the walls redone, new lights, the bobbly biscuit-coloured carpet removed. Dawn around this evening, and lots of chatting to be done with her on many and various subjects. It's really nice to sit about in the kitchen as Lorraine put the finishing touches to a delicious chicken stew and shoot the breeze about all kinds of things from radical Islam in schools to underfloorboard insulation. Dawn is full of good ideas. A cheery evening. I feel so lucky to have a happy home.

A visit from the Basingstoke posse

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The chest infection I brought home still making me feel a bit rough. Still a lucky day as I had nowhere to go and nothing arduous to do. Instead Glenice, Heather and Maria came to visit down from Baskingstoke. Glenice is Beth's grandmother, Heather Beth's aunt and Lorraine's former sister in law, and Maria is Lorraine's niece. Lorraine and Beth happily cooking chickens and delicious potato spinach and goats cheese flans. I enjoyed hanging out chatting to Glenice again and to Heather, who I'd only met once before and really liked. Glenice is a stalwart at her church, and I told her about working with the religious charity and was interested to hear her opinions on them. Maria, who particularly adores Beth, is living an increasingly independent life away from home which she seems to be enjoying a great deal. Maria has a extravert and funny personality and talked to me several times too. Occasionally when things get hard to express Maria will look into a reflecti

Storms

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A night full of thunder and lightning. Up early and catching up with various bits of work that had accumulated since I was away.  More violent skies and an absolute deluge that had Osborne Road running like a brisk river while I did so. Luckily we are high up, and it all flowed downhill where there were floods. In the afternoon, off in the car with Lorraine and Betty to go to Trading Boundaries and look at new curtains. However we made it a few hundred yards when the car broke down, and we had to push it onto the pavement by Fiveways. The AA came and sorted the car out, eventually. The car needs to go to a garage however. Betty and I walked back home after half an hour or so. Trying to catch up on my blogs, but feeling rather tired and sorting out the photos taking ages. I will update tomorrow and fill in some of the blank days. The chest infection I came home with is still making me feel a little drained. Lorraine's car good enough to be driven home, and the AA man spent fur

A happy homecoming

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Last morning in the Kamelia Hotel, tucking into a final breakfast of olives, tomatoes, triangles of cheese, and toast and other scraps of Greek nice-ish stuff. Lorraine and I dragged our cases and assembled at the back of the hotel looking up at Mt Ipsarion with our fellow holidaymakers Penny, Dave and Jeanette. To Thassos town, where we caught the ferry, and all sat together at the front. A toothless but tuneful accordion player played as we made the short crossing to Keramoti. Lorraine and I sat in a little Taverna by the harbour for half an hour drinking iced coffee with Dave, Jeanette and Penny before we all got back into the minivan which took us to the airport. We were first to arrive for our flight, two hours early. After surveying the shop and resisting bottles of ouzo and fridge magnets with donkeys on, Lorraine and I ate a final spanakopita from the cafe. The flight home pleasant, but cramped. England grey but I was pleased to be back. Cheery farewells to Dave and Jeanett

Winding down

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Last three days, after Saturday's excitements were spent close to our hotel on Skala Potamia. The resort seemed less busy in the last week.  Annoyingly I developed a summer cold, which became a chest infection.  However as our days were spent underneath beach umbrellas reading and going for the occasional snorkel it didn't spoil anything and we were winding down very well by now, dreaming on our sunbeds and with the wooded arms of the land stretching out either side of the bay, and the mountains behind. Reprehensibly, we managed to put on several kilos. Not a great place for keeping to a diet. We also got to know some of the new guests, a likeable couple called Dave and Jeanette knew my old school friend Mike Longman. Dave and Mike had been in the police together. Another was a recently-widowed woman in her 40s who worked in education called Penny. Fell in with these a bit and sat in the hotel bar with them from time to time, being served by a pleasant Englishwoman called Sue