Tuesday 29th November 2022

The day the football got real. Possibly.

Today, the final round of group games were due to kick off, with England playing Wales at seven in the evening. But with just two groups a day playing, the days of four games between ten in the morning and nine in the evening are, probably for the best, over.

It means more concentrating on work.

Potentially.

Jools' cough comes and goes. Some days its almost gone, the next day a bout would start up without warning. This was one of the latter days.

But she went to work, fresh with the news that Sean had tested positive for COVID.

I had my second coffee and got the office out.

I had instructions on what to do, and I had the template to use. All I had to do was input the data I already had into the template and save each one. Oh, that and the enthusuasm. Saying that, I had been handbagging that for a few days, so I did get my mojo together and through the morning got it done, then saved the data in the correct shared files, and send copies to those I needed to.

Phew.

It was clear when we got up up, but soon mist and then fog rose as dawn approached, so I took a single shot out of the back door early, fully expectig to take another shot or ten later in the day. But as it happens, waiting in for a delivery of chestnuts and Belgian fritsaus meant that by the time Mr Yodel to come by. He did just before three, and with kick off in the first game approaching and it already getting dark, I did not go for a walk, so took no other shots.

Dinner was simply jacket potatoes, mine baked for three hours for extra crispness.

Yummy.

And so for the evening, I went back round Bev and Steve's for the evening to watch Wales v England. I took a box of beer and some curry coated peanuts round too.

It was a cagey forst half, and both teams would have been happy to go in level. However, withing six minutes into the second half, England were two up. We leapt up and cheered, and thei dog, Indy, barked like mad too

England scored one more, to run out 3-0 winner and come top in the group, while Wales went home with just a single point won.

Tidy.

Monday 28th November 2022

Back to work.

Jools' cough is slightly better, but not good enough for her to risk going swimming, so we can lay in to nearly six before getting up.

It is dark outside for about another hour, so the cats are fed, coffee made and we do our usual morning rituals until its time for Jools to leave for work and me to set the office up.

Not much to report if I'm honest.

Work is work, and there are signs of improvement.

For that there is a meeting with our interim manager's manager. He says the right things, but his words ring hollow. But there is an action plan, and it seems there is detirmination to do something.

We shall see.

My friend and colleague, Rune, has gone to Brazil for two weeks to do a series of audits, so there is just Henrik to talk to.

It was supposed to be a cloudy, if dry day. So it was a surprise to have two hours of heavy rain through the morning, then there was bright sunshine.

I was getting a little cabin fever, so played hooky from two and went out for a walk, just to get some steps in. Just the usual walk up and down the four roads on our estate. I saw no one to talk to, nor nothing to take a shot of. My back complained all the way, but I got it done, and arrived home just as large drops of rain began to fall, with me getting back inside before another downpour began.

I got a shot or two as the dark storm cloud passed over, and bright sunlight emerged low in the west.

Dinner was a simple meal of minced beef crispbakes, corn and peas and curried rice.

Yummy.

COVID is ripping through the facotry where Jools works, the stores guy, Sean, is ill, though not positive on Monday would be on Tuesday. Her cough is not so bad for sure, though she has a couple of coughing fits before a sup of syrup calms everything down.

More football in the evening, which finishes at the handy time of five to nine.

Just in time for bed.

Winners consent

There can be no arguments that the referendum in 2016 dekivered a non-binding result by 52-48% that the UK should leave the EU.

However, apart from non-bindding, the vote did not define what this actually meant.

Never did.

May decided in her Lancaster House speech in 2017 that leaving meant leaving the SM and CU.

That was her decision.

Johnson dud not change that definition.

May agreed the backstop in regards to NI.

Johnson agreed the frontstop, the opposite of May, meaning that we agreed applied from the start: a regulatory border in the Irish Sea.

Leaving could have meant just leaving the political institutions.

Or leaving just the SM and/or the CU.

The election in 2019 backed Johnson's Brexit deal.

However, at no point did Cameron, Johnson or May reach out and compromise to those 48% who voted to remain. It was their definition that was imposed on us all, 52% rounded up to 100% and 48% rounded down to 0%.

Neither did Johnson seek approval from the devolved institutions in Wales, Scotland or Northern Ireland, as he should have.

So, the election in 2019 meant that the country agreed to implement Johnson's Brexit deal, NIP and all.

We who voted to remain we told that we lost we should get over it. And we did. Even if we're still angry about it. Fucking angry, more angry than I have ever been in my life. All I and those who voted remain is to get on with our lives, make the best of what we have.

Oddly, its the leavers. The Brexiteers who are trying to renegotiation Johnson's deal. Even Johnson was trying to.

"A New Brexit" was trending on what's left of Twitter this morning. It would be good if the twats who lied and were backed by dark mney to win the referendum actually just sucked it up and made the Brexit they wanted, work.

I mean, they won, get over it.

Johnson won the 2019 election on the promise that the talks and negotiations with the EU would stop if we voted for hom and his deal.

He lied.

Of course.

Can we just end this shit show now?

Work with what you got, let us and business have some stability and get on with our lives.

Make it stop.

P.S.

DAG wrote yesterday that one of the main issues with Brexit, apart from its rank stupidity, is that it was treated as a simple problem with simple solutions.

That the UK could untangle itself from five decades of joint legal and commercial arrangements and agreements at speed and with no risk.

This could be down to stupidity on the Brexiteers part, or that they just did not understand the problem.

The dog that caught the car: what then?

Brexit was never going to be simple, it needed a lot of time, a lot of thought and a lot of preparation. But the need for deadlines to satisfy either a political or media driven agenda was never going to end well.

The latest is that all retained EU law is to be made obsolete by the end of next year.

Simple.

But no one knows exactly how many retained EU laws there are, whether they are needed or not.

But it makes headline in conference and makes the editor of the Mail and Express happy, but what it means to us, business and the economy matters not a jot.

Scrutiny would help, that I, a humble blogger knows this, mean that I would hope journalists would be asking these qyestions and not accepting the non-answers they get given.

Not so Brave

Last week, under questionig from a Select Committee, the Home Secretary revealled that there are no legal ways to claim aslylum in the UK until a refugee were to arrive here.

And without a visa or other documents travel by train, plane or ferry is impossible, therefore the only route open to the most desperate is to go with people trafficers.

As I have said before, the inhuman policiy of Braverman, Patel and May relies on a stream oof highly visible refugees risking life crossing the Channel to justify their hardline and illegal policies.

That numbers of refugess have fallen over the last decade, and then compare the headlines in the papers and the BBC you would think there had been a massive increase.

As always with Conservative, be they Tories or the GOP, cruelty is the point.

And news came that Labour Leader, Kier Starmer has reversed the party policy on freedom of movement making it now a red line for the party.

If Labour cannot or will not speak for the oppressed, who will?

Not only because it is the right thing to do, but the UK economy is screaming for people to fill 1.8 million vacancies.

I cannot vote for a Labour party that does not back the reintroduction of freedom of movement.

And on a personal level, once that is brought back, and it will, if we can, we will leave this tiny-minded island.

Sunday 27th September 2022

And on the seventh day, it did rain.

All day.

From before dawn until well after dark.

And there was much complaining from the assembled cats.

My old Dad might have said, "it's set in for the day", and he would be right.

Daylight came late, and never really got fully light.

We got up and fed the cats, made coffee and put up the radio on. Disco music at half seven in the morning doesn't feel quite right. It would have been Jimi Hendrix's 80th birthday, so aconie played some rare stuff by him.

He is, of course, forever young, frozen in time, aged 27, like Jim Morrison and Janis Joplin. Dying young is a great career move, of course, no ill-thought reunion shows, or duets with Ed Sheeran to spoil the memories. Same with the Beatles, look at their 8 (eight) year recording career, and then look at the (Rolling) Stones, and that their last really important LP was some 50 years ago. Give or take.

Despite the rain, I needed a haircut, tramp.

So, at quarter past nine we drive out through town and up to Capel and into Folkestone. I parked as near the barbers as I could, and so was left with just a two minute walk, and being still early, was able to go straight into a chair, and despite another guy was to do the shearing, he knew what I wanted, and sharpened his shears and got clipping.

Odd that my haircut takes about twice as long as Jools' shearing takes, and mine is half as expensive.

Go figure.

That done, Jools was waiting, so we scamper back to the car and drive home, the rain falling even harder, and getting back avoiding flooded roads was a real challenge.

Once home I made fritters for lunch, which we washed down with beer or wine.

And then there was football on TV for the rest of the day, and I had missed a game and a half already.

Outisde the rain continued to fall, and it got dark just after three.

Some bland party food for supper while I watch the last game of the day.

And that was that, the weekend over already.

Stupid

Focus is back on immigration, and last week it was announced that in the previous 12 months, 505,000 more arrived in the country than left.

This is with various external issues, Ukraine, etc.

But the focus is now on students.

Foreign students.

I have been writing of this bullshit for long enough to remember comments that it is madness to count students in immigration figures, even if they do end up staying after their course has finished, due to the value they give to the universtity of college they study at, for the rfees they are charged.

In fact, most universities and colleges only are viable due to foreign students. So the Governments "plan" to restrict access to courses for foreign students to non-"rubbish" degrees would put dozens of educational establishments at risk.

But that is where we are, the Government destroying the soft power the UK has. Be it pop music, the BBC or now a home for educating the world.

It would be nice, for once, if the UK Governement stops doing stupid things.

Saturday 26th November 2022

It is the weekend. Again.

And with Jools suffering a relapse in her chesty cough, we slept late and I said I'd go to Tesco first thing, before coffee, and she could get dressed in her own time.

So I grabbed my coat, the shoppings bags and shopping list, put them in the car and drove to Tesco. First up was to fill the car with petrol, then drive roud to park up, get a trolley and head into the store, grabbing a scanner on the way in.

Apart from the weekly things, I got some stuffing mix and more blocks of butter for Christmas. Meaning that apart from the fruit and veg and milk, we are all abut done here.

Yay us.

Back home for coffee, unload the car and put shopping away, before finally having breakfast 1 of fruit then bacone butties and brews for breakfast 2.

That's better.

The plan for the day was for some local churchcrawling. After some internet research I had the name of the keyholder at Bekesbourne, I called but was told she was out but would be back "soon". OK, in which case we would visit some other nearby churches and go there last.

Not far to Barham from Chez Jelltex, just along the A2, overtaking lorries and slow cars until we turned off at Wootton, down past the filling station and into Barham, stopping on the road beside the church.

Barham is always open, I thought, no worries here. As I got out all my camera gear and lugged it over the road and through the churchyard.

Round on the north sade, we arrive at the porch and I find the door is locked after all. No news of a keyholder, but next week there is a coffee morning. If we feel OK after our COVID booster, we might go along.

Its a short drive along the Elham Valley to Bridge. And yes there is really a place called Bridge, and it does have a bridge. A bridge in Bridge, which takes the old Watling Street and high road over the bed of the Nailbourne.

Bridge never lets us down. And indeed it was upen, door ajar, and soon a warden came and put all the lights on so snapping was easier. I'd not missed much on previous visits, but with a new-ish lens, it was always worth in redoing shots. I did have the big lens with me, great for details of carvings and in staned glass windows, which I photograph enthuiastically.

From Bridge, its a five minute drive to Patrixbourne.

I wanted to come back here to take close up details of the Tympanum and rose window from the outside, so it wasn't too much of a loss that the door was locked after all.

So, I set about getting my shots and rattle off a couple of hundred.

Back to the car, and next village along is Bekesbourne, where I had called earlier. The keyholder lives in a "large while building opposite the church", the website said. Yes, it's a palace.

An actual palace.

So, there was scruffy me shambling up the large door, ringing the bell and asking if the church keayholder was in.

She wasn't.

And her husaband wasn't too keen on letting me have it.

Now I know how to get it, there'll be plenty of other times.

I leave, but on the way back to the main road, a large Audi passes us, and pretty much the only place she could be going was the palace: should we go back?

No, there'll be other times.

We head home, back along the A2, but calling in at Jen's to do some admin. That done it was back home, all back by one, and ready for some more World Cup action from the sofa.

Lunch was pizza and beer, done in ten minutes and easy as anything, so the main task of the day was to fight my heavy eyelids that threatened to send me to sleep.

Argentina beat Mexico in a bad tempered gmae, then France beat Denmark 2-1, by which time it was nine and time for bed.

Phew.

Friday 25th November 2022

I think, on Thursday evening, I had: 2 glasses of red wine, three pints of mild and a wee dram.

Not a huge amount, but more than normal.

And I had a woolly head in the morning.

We laid in to half six, we hadn't got home until nearly 11 the night before, and ven that didnt seem enough sleep.

I had half an hour to get up, have a coffee and be ready for work at seven, with five hours of meetings to look forward to. Jools had a shower and went to work, I put the bins out and got ready for the day's rituals.

A meeting with by temporary boss's boss, where he told us things are not as bad they seem, and the fact we're all whining pos is a good thing that shows we care. Or something.

Then audit updates, where two audiees decline, and there is no updates.

I am tempted to escalate this, but will see next week.

And so with some free time, I put on the football on my home laptop, have lunch of jam sandwiches, and discuss the latest diasters with colleagues.

Disasters always happen on Fridays, seems to be the law.

I finish at one, and so pack the office away, go upstairs to take some shots out of the windows when I went to clean my teeth. And the little Canon cmpact I have had for six and a half years, took two shots and. Died.

I tried to reset it, but nothing has worked. A lens error that causes the camera to emergency shut down. Again and again.

So, thoughts of wandering around town before my dental appointment are scrapped as I try to get the camera working again. No luch, so leave home at two and rush to park the car near the church. I end up having twenty minutes before I can go up to the dentists, so wander along Biggin Street where every other shop is now closed. It is really striking.

They may be a recession, but Dover COuncil's decisions to allow retail expansion up in Whitfied has killed off pretty much what was left of the centre of town, no amount of smoking fountains are going to attract visitors to town, even with the multiplying of car parks. Nothing to visit for.

I Wander back to Castle Street and go up the stairs to the waiting room, and due to a issue with the previous patient, there was a delay. So I chat with the receptionist about the town and how its on its uppers.

I go up to the surgery and the dentist looks at what is to be done, looks in my mouth and asks, "who decided to fill this?"

You did.

Well, I don't think I need to take out the old filling, I can repair what's there and do no numbing jabs.

Happy with that.

So, he gets to work, very careful to to cause any pain, and stops every few seconds if I was in any pain.

I wasn't, I said, but years ago, I was having a root canal done and the dentist assured me the root was dead before inserting a post and finding the one part of root very much alive.

Oh, I see, he said.

No pain this time. In fact in 20 minutes he was sanding down the edges, checking with some kind of paper that showed up high spots, more sanding and filing. And it was done.

Amazing. After 15 years of military dentists, and the pain and shoddy work they did, this was on another level. I might have to pay, but worth it I think.

Back home to meet up with Jools. Her cough is back as bad as ever, and she wanted a chippy tea: chips and a battered sausage, so at half four she goes to pick that up from Castle Street, I make brews and butter slices of bread for butties.

We eat that, wash up, all ready for the music quiz, in which I come third on the night and in third place for the whole month. I win nothing for either, just glory and envy from those who finished below.

Or something.

Then, as if all that wasn't exciting enough, round to Bev and Steve's to watch the England v USA game, with much expected after England's six goals against Iran last time out.

But England never really got going, and were second best for long periods, and England luky to hang on for a point and a 0-0 draw. The result and performance was tempered by the draft Leffe Christmas beer Steve was serving.

Cheers.

Then we had a small glass of the 1963 port I took round.

Double cheers.

Thursday 24th November 2022

Another day.

Is this what life id, doing the same soul-sapping job until we're too old and our will has been drained?

Asking for a friend.

As my last year in the old company was so great, even if things had gone OK here, it would still be a disapointment. But the chaos is really difficult to deal with. But life goes on, and always there is the promise that this time its going to be different.

Each day there are four games in the World Cup, the first one at ten, then a new one starting every three hours until the 4th finished at nine. Or thereabouts.

So, with work on one computer with the big screen, then the football plays quietly on my home PC. So, I get my work done and keep up to date with the game.

Now, writing 24 hours after the first game, I can't remember who played or what was the score, its eye candy really.

I looked in the fridge, there was a single pig in blanket and a few buts of steak. I could combine those for a sandwich, but for that I needed bread, I could drive to Tesco, or I could bake a loaf.

I baked a loaf.

A small loaf

Takes about 15 to mix, then an hour to rise, and then half an hour to bake. Once done, I couldn't wait for it to cool, I just cut the crust off and the next slice, buttered them and sliced the bacon wrapped banger and made a sarnie fit for an international playboy and quality expert.

Yay.

There was football and work through the afternoon, while outside rain fell hard and the wind blew remaining leaves from the trees.

Well it is November.

Chorizo hash for dinner, and I thought I had some wine left from the weekend, but the bottle was almost empty. Switch to squash or open another bottle.

I opened another bottle.

And then, while Brazil took part in the final first round of group games, we went out.

And the rain was falling so hard it was like we would need an ark.

Bev and Steve were already in their car, and they took us into Walmer for the monthly quiz at The Lighthouse.

Last month Jools and I did well, this time we had four heads, and we hoped to d better than finish 4th from last.

We had our table, and after eight rounds of tough quizzing, we finished joint second, winning a cash prize to be shared between us all.

Yay, us.

Steve had another beer to celebrate, I had a wee dram.

To the voctors, the spoils.

Indyref 2

Earlier this week, the UK Supreme Court ruled that there was nothing egally that the Scottish Parliament or Scotland could do regarding a new independance referendum without the consent of Westminster.

Most has seen this as a victory for the UK Government.

But, it can't really be called a Union, or political union, if one side can't leave or break the Union if it wants to.

Remember this was the whole argument two decades ago in the EU that ended up creating A50, so that a member state could decide to leave and the EU or other member states could not stop it.

So, Scotland, despite voting for a party that has independendance as it's main policy for two decades, cannot unilaterally decide to call a referendum, binding or non-binding.

Scotland was forced out of the EU by England when it voted to stay, and Westomister did not seek the Scottish Parliament's approval with conventon said it had to.

Now Westminster is going to block Indyref2.

That is a prison, not a Union, and in a democracy is not sustainable.

This just further justifies the SNP and its position.

Let my people go. If they decide to.

Wednesday 23rd November 2022

Dr Who's birthday.

Jools' birthday.

Anniversary of the announcement here in the UK of JFK's death.

All on the same day in the same year!

But it was also Wednesday, and a work day.

Even for Jools.

Due to the return of her cough and Mulder, she had slept badly for two nights, so no swimming was planned.

We tried to lay in, but we awake at half five.

Happy Birthday.

Jools took loads of party food for the office to feast on, I looked in the fridge and saw very little other than potatoes and eggs.

I searched the internet for potato recipes and came up with tatty scones. Clearly, they needed sausages to go with them. I set about defrosting some.

I did do some work, not much if I'm honest, but enough to look busy if the cats, who are clearly in charge round here.

At ten, I boiled some cubed potatoes, and once cooked added salt, baking powder, flour and butter. Shaped into a flat disc, quartered and then fried in butter.

I cooked to bangers at the same time.

First time I have either eaten or cooked tatty scones; and the verdict? OK.

Back to work for an important meeting, well they all are, and watch Germany somehow lose to Japan in the World Cup. Football at ten in the morning seems very strange. And then through the day there is a gap of aout an hour before a new game kicks off.

All the way to nine in the evening.

But I had a proper dinner to prepare: Cote De Boeuf.

Jools prefers to have it griddled rather than done in the oven on low and for hours until tender. So, I find a recipe, season it and let it get to room temperature.

I had zapped the potatoes all ready for slicing and frying to make chips.

And then her brother, Mike, came round.

I heard myself asking if he wanted to stay for dinner.

He did.

I thought there'd be enough steak.

Anyway, we talked as I got cooking, the steak fried two minutes each side, then popped into a hot oven for 17 minutes. Meanwhile I heated up some peas and sweetcorn and finally fried the spuds.

Joos came back from work, we opened a bottle of fizz, and I dished up, having sliced the steak. There was enough.

Mike had brought a small carrot cake, so we had coffee and ate a slice of that each.

We were full, had we shared the steak between us we might have gone POP.

And that was it, more football in the evening, whilst listening to music.

And bed at nine.

The other place

By the term "the other place", I mean The House of Lords.

DAG published a very good post on Tuesday about the plans to reform and/or replace the HoL.

Which is needed as the legislation, temporary legislation, which created what we have now is 111 years old.

Not THAT temporary.

Prior to 2016, I would have joined in the called to reform or replace the HoL, but six years of political battles have shown that the Upper Chamber has important finctions to carry out, and is vital for democracy. Whatever might take its place, we would have to be certain the new structure would carry those out in the same politically unbiased way the HoL does today.

And not just morror the politics of the Commons.

Scrutiny is important, vital, so that rushed legislation from the Commons can be shown to be thus and sent back for reconsideration.

That the Lords with hereditary peers and 26 Bishops of the Church of England might not be the best example of an Upper House, but it does its job. And Bishops advising their political colleagues on the moral and ethical issues with policies can't be a bad thing, can it?

Johnson has tried to upset the balance in the Lords by flooding it with political appointees. Despite 44 days on office, Truss is also going to apoint even more peers.

What does this do for our democracy?

Reform of the Lords is not easy, 111 years since the last reform has shown us that. Its not something we or any party should rush into, and as one party can create something liberal and fair, the next party could do the opposite.

Tuesday 22nd November 2022

Welcome to Tuesday.

You are welcome to it.

And something exciting happening later, but for now, there is the usual, get up, get dressed, drink coffee and be ready for work at seven.

Jools wasn't going swimming, so she had a shower then got dressed before heading off just before seven.

When we looked out the back of the house, the sky was black with cloud, except for a small band of clear sky just above the trees on the other side of the valley, and in that gap was the blood red sliver of the waning moon.

And was then gone.

And so with Cleo watching on, I set up the office.

I learn that Denmark at two inches of snow and is still very cold. We actually are due to have sunshine, though ten degrees cooler than a week before.

Now the interesting bit.

At the end of the Deal Road into Dover, is the Duke of York's roundabout with the Duke of York's pub behind it. Why'd they have that name?

Well, behind both is the Duke of York's Military School, a huge site stretching from here to Fort Bergoyne, then to Guston. The school was founded here in 1909 and was a place where the children of military personnel were taught while their parents were posted, probably overseas.

It is still 100% for boarders, but no longer under the control of the MOD, but has a strong military ethic. I'm not going to judge.

Anyway.

The project to photograph Kent churches is mainly for parish church, but if I can get to see otheres: RC, Baptist or whatever, I'll take it.

Last September, for the first time, The Duke of Yorks Military School took part in Heritage Weekend. Sadly, I found out too late to get on a tour, but I struck up e mail correspondence with the organiser and he agreed that I could come and take shots.

Clashes of dates meant that I had to wait two months, but today was the day, and weather full of low winter sunshine. Although shadows inside were very striking.

The school was built here when it moved from Chelsea in 1909, designed by Sir Henry Tanner in the "Hampstead Garden Suburb" style. The entire complex is pretty much of all the same date and style, with the exception of two newer academic buildings.

Focal point is the large clock tower, which has just been renovated.

The chapel has several war memorials dedicated to pupils who gave their lives for their country.

I was met at reception after driving round the ring road past the athletics track and several of the boarding houses. I was met by the guy I had been writing to, he guessed I was Ian as I was laden with camera gear.

The chapel was on the other side of the road, and is a fine example of early 20th century design, the rest of the school is all of a similar style too.

He lets me get on with my task of taking shots, while he tells me some of the history of the school and chapel.

It is very well maintained, with a fairly new rood, but the rest is original and very well kept.

I took a 100 shots or so, said thanks and was gone, all in under an hour.

I went to Tesco to buy unch and came away with: a turkey and stuffing sandwich, a spicy bean wrap and a pack of spicy paprika crisps. Don't shop when you're hungry, kids.

Back home for lunch and back to work, where not much had happened.

On the tellybox at the same time as working, Saudi beat Argentina 2-1 after being a goal down.

Football, eh?

And then two dull 0-0 draws, so once work was done, I decided to go out for a walk.

Not far, just up and down the four streets in the estate, nearly 6,000 steps.

Feeing better.

We had warmed through stuffed peppers again for dinner, and were again totes amazeballs.

As was the wine.

And there was time for one more game to watch as music played on the cat's whiskers.

Phew.

Bregrets

If I were to ask any Brits or UK citizns, because there is a difference, the question:

If Brexit were reveresed tomorrow, what would you miss?

Few, if any, could point to any benefit we would lose.

Just as few are proclaiming the benefits Brexit has brought, instead are crowing about how it wasn't as bad as Project Fear predicted. That is because, projections were made on A50 being triggered the day after the vote, like Corbyn wanted.

Instead it was done more slowly, but still too quickly as to have an actual plan, rather hope that somethig would turn up.

Brexit was sold on many things, but first and foremost an act which would have only positive outcomes. So, on its own predictions, Brexit has failed.

It has not unleashed the trading tiger that was the UK, it has been further smothered in red tape. Red, white and blue tape. With the promise, of is that a threat or more regulation to come?

Andrew Griffith (Treasury Minister) speaking in The COmmons could not place on record one benefit from Brexit.

Former Brexiteers are seeing the folly of their ways, or at least the way it has been implemented.

Which makes it odd that the Labour leader yesterday spoke out against immigration, even though the UK economy and many leading figures in various secotrs are screaming for it.

If Starmer cannot make the case for low-skilled immigration, who will?

Who will fill the shelves, drive the trucks, pick the apples, look after our elederly and sick?

In society, we can't all become white collar. Someone has to do the actual work, we can pay them more for doing so rather than top up their rockbottom wages with benefits, but that is a political decision.

As it always is.

As predicted, the plan for a Swiss-style relationship did not last 12 hours after it was published in Sunday's papers, the PM rejected it, but so did the EU who don't like the Swiss style agreement they have with the Swiss.

Someone has to make the case for stronger economic ties with the EU. Business leaders have, now its time for someone in politics to say so too.

Revenge of the Space Karen

So, we are several weeks into Elton Tusk's takeover of Twitter, and over a third of Twitter's top 100 advertisors have left the platform.

Over the last week he has reinsntated several accounts that were banned for hate speech, including that of Donal Trump. Although he has not returned to the platform yet to use his old account.

For someone who says he is working 18 hours to keep Twitter going, the Space Karen sure spends an awful lot of time agreeing with trolls or trying to own the libs.

Much to my surprise, the platofrm has not fallen over yet, but some of its lesser know microservices have been switched off.

I have moved to the other site, which is already changing under the migration of those from Twitter and hate speech and baiting has begun there.

I will stay on Twitter as long as I can, if to complete my top 50 Kent churches upload, if nothing else.

Anyway, I yearn for the days of early 2016 and earlier, before Trump, Brexit, COVID and Putin. Nothing to worry about.

But those days are long gone.

Monday 21st November 2022

Back to work, back to reality.

Apparently.

Despite her cough returning, though not as bad, she decided to go to the pool at six, leaving me with a cup of coffee and a podcast to listen to.

Outside it was still dark.

And soon rain began to fall. hard.

The milkman had been, so I bring in the full bottles, and make a second coffee.

Situation normal.

As well as work, it was the first full day of the World Cup with three games to watch, including England playing Iran just after lunch.

Before then I had six hours of work, admin, calls and meetings. Nothing of any import, it goes to say.

The morning slipped by, and then, as if by maginc, the game kicked off, and after a close opening 15 minutes, England took charge, scored three goals before half time. One just after, then Iran scored before England rattled in two more. A last minute penalty meant it ended 6-2. To England.

Iran had just beaten Uruguay and had gone a year withour defeat, so no pushovers.

Outside rain fell in sheets.

I stopped work at three and went to prepare dinner: Moroccan spiced stuffed peppers.

I used a recipe and heavily adapted it.

It came out well.

Very well.

The peppers with filling and topped with grated cheese were finished in the oven. Not only was there enough for dinner, but also for Tuesday, and enough filling to make another meal with pasta or rice or jacket spuds.

Jools came home, I opened wine, we toasted and tucked in, to what was a very fine dinner indeed.

More football through the evening, and ginger spiced cookies to go with the coffee.

Sunday 20th November 2022

And on the seventh day, the rain did fall, and it did not get ligt until well after seven.

I lay in bed and listened to the rain falling.

I get up at just gone seven, feed the cats and make coffee.

Outside, weak milky ligh spreads from the east, clouds low and dark throw sheets of yet more rain.

Promise was of rain clearing and unbroken sunshine by the middle of the afternoon. I doubted it, as I heard my old Dad say, "it's set in for the day".

We have breakfast, and as if my magic, driven my a keen westerly, the rain stopped and the clouds did indeed clear.

Jools went for a walk while I had a shower and was able to sit outside to read the latest Rail magazne. Birds were very busy in the bushes and feeder, the robin especially had made it clear he likes to peck at a fatball, so I put one on the low tray, and he's happy.

Jools comes home and makes rhubarb crumble for lunch. That goes in the oven and i warm the custard up. This is old fashioned comfort food, just like my Mum and her Mum used to make.

And there was enough left over for me to have for lunch on Monday.

And then with clear blue skies outside, we went to Deal for a walk. Its been a while.

Deal is a fine town these days, and we're lucky to live so close. And for the gentle walker, it has the bonus of not having hills.

We parked on the Stand, then walked past the pier and the castle, passing the beached fishing boats. My back was grumbling even with this little exercise, so near to the lifeboat station, we sit on a bench, watch people for 15 minutes, then able back.

By the time we were walking back, the sun was now behind the buildings of the town, and what warmth there was, was lost.

Back to the car and then to home, getting back just as dusk was falling, and as if by magic, in time for the kick off of the first World Cup game. Seems I'm going to watch it, anyways.

Two hours of dull football, and the home team put to the sword.

Night had fallen, we had wine and peanuts for supper. Pigs in blankets coated peanuts. Tasted only of peanuts, but we crunchy.

And that was the weekend.

Off to bed after #wildflowerhour and read an article in WSC.

The new battle for Brexit

Spoiler: its an old problem.

More and more people in business who export are calling for better alignment with the EU and its Single Market (SM) and/or Customs Union (CU).

Alignment reduces the friction in trade and makes it more cost effective.

Which, if you remember is what Brexit was supposed to have done.

Cakey.

An un-named spokesperson inside Number 10 announced that the Government is looking at a "Swiss-style" arrangement with the EU.

What Nigel said six and a half years ago what the UK should go for, but now claims would be (another) ultimate betrayal.

Ho, and indeed, hum.

Both the Express and Mail this morning go to battle for the soul of Brexit. The Express calls it "an absrd idea" while the mail says "don't betray us on Brexit".

Damage to the economy is fine if it is done in the name of Brexit, apparently, but not under any other circumstances.

For what its worth, the EU hates the arrangement it has with the Swiss as it requires constant negotiations.

Sounds familiar?

So would be very reluctant indeed to do the same for what is seen as the untrustworthy UK.

Of course such an agreement would sort out most of the issues with the BG/NI border and with trade between UK and the EU.

But it is politically unacceptable for the ERG and many in the Conservative Party. The PM could probably get support for it from the rump of the party and opposition support, but he could not survive as leader for much longer.

Such a thing will happen, the UK and EU being more aligned. It is the reality. But would require those in power here to be honest, for once, about the reality of our situation. There can be no real growth without trade, there can be no real growth in trade without the EU.

Not much point in commenting more, but until the PM, a PM, is honest, not much will change.

Saturday 19th November 2022

The weekend.

At last.

And for the weekend, Saturday was to bring sunshine, but Sunday would bring wind and rain.

But, as always, no one told Mother Nature, and Saturday was graced with thick and dark cloud.

But first: shopping.10% of our weekly shop goes on stuff for the local foodbank. Such things should not be needed, but it is.Around the store, just about everything is well stocked, except the fresh fruit which like it has been most of the year, thin on the ground.

Back home to put our goodies away, the to have two breakfasts, forst one of fruit, then followed by bacon.

Same every week.

And then: time to go out.

I am posting my top 50 Kent churches on Twitter, or until that site crashes, and I realise I needed to go back to a couple: Newnham and Wychling. Which meant on the way I could stop to look at Stone Chapel beside what used to be Watling Street, now the old A2, between Faversham and Sittingbourne.

A half hour run up the A2, through Faversham. Jools dropped me off at the junction opposite the chapel, and I have to scamper across the main road.

That done.

I have wanted to visit Stone Chapel just outside of Faversham for some while, but parking here is very difficult.

Yesterday, with the plan to visit Newnham and Doddington, it seemed too good an opportunity to visit the ruin.

You can see the remains from the old A2, Watling Street, and doesn't look that much, but worth visiting for the project, I thought.

In fact, close up it appears to be part Roman or made with Roman remains, the nave walls on both side have layers of clearly Roman tiles.

I am currently reading an archaeological paper which doubts the conclusions reached on the English Heritage site.

It is a less travelled path across the fields to the copse with the ruins in front. The field had been left fallow, so was full of Annual Mercury, Common Groundsel and a few Shepherd's Purse.

Straight away the courses of red Roman tiles were obvious, and even to me, seemed to form a square. The rest of the church was built of flint, and is crumbling still. Not bad for ruins of a building abandoned in the 1530s.

Ferns grow out of the mortar, quite a rare ecosystem here in Kent.

The stone altar is still in situ in the Chancel, or what remains of it. A step leads down into the nave, and was worn with steps of nearly a thousand years of use.

An amazing an mysterious place.

I walk back over the field, wait to cross the road and join Jools back in the car. From here it was a ten minute drive to Newnham where I was pretty sure the church would be open.

Outside, you can't tell how dull and gloomy it is, but inside a church, then you can tell. In the church, it was dark, almost night, but the camera found things to focus on until I found the lightswitches.

The church has no stained glass, and few memorials, but otherwie a few things to see. But good to have visited the first church and it was open.

Next up it was one of my favourites: Doddington.

A couple of miles further on, and up the hill is the gruesomely dedicated The Beheading of St John the Baptist, though named for the feast day rather than the even itself.

A walk over the litter-strewn and narrow lane, and into the churchyard, where the low clapboarded tower is wonderful in itself.

But inside an unusual double squint, wall paintings of St Francis and St John the Baptist, a couple of fresh looking hatchings, a realy excentric roal coat of arms of an unknown monarch, but remarkable. In the churchyard, the wardens have worked with Plantlife to create fine wildflower meadows in the churchyard, turning God's Acre into something to support our native flora and fauna.

I take 150 or so shots, then walk back to the car, and take Jools to the next target: Wychling.

Wychling is a remote church, pretty much without a village, but the chuch lays back from the road, through a meadow and then through the bare churchyard, the chuch with its tower hidden by mature trees.

The website said it would be open, but I had my doubts, and I was proven right as the porch door was locked.

So, it was a long walk back to the car where Jools was waiting.

Our final call was to be Hollingbourne, which I seem to remember my last visit was cut short.

So, it was just a five mile trip over the downs, so set the sat nav, and off we went. Thing is, roads round there are narrow, and partially flooded after the week of rain, so it was quite the adventure, and a couple of times we said, "NZ Tony would love this", as we went down another road barely wider than the car.

The other thing I should mention is that there was a fire at one of the oldest pubs in Kent, in the village. Not that I thought that would be a problem.

But it was, as the road past the hotel is closed while they try to secure the building.

No matter, if we could get to the M20, turn off at Leeds, then there was another way into the village there.

So, down gravel strewn lanes, and others so covered in fallen leaves they were not really roads at all. To the A249, down the hill and onto the motorway for one junction.

We turned off and went under the motorway and HS1, only to find the road through the village closed, for different reasons, this side too. Looking at the map, the chuch and a few houses sit isolated in the middle of the two closed roads. Nowhere to park.

I gave up, and we decded to drive home.

Back to the motorway, and cruise back to the coast through Ashford, Hythe and Folkestone.

No firebombing this time, though.

Back in time for the second half of the League 1 game featuring the Old Farm Enemy, Ipswich. I turned it on as Town scored their second goal, and so turned it off again.

That's not how its supposed to happen.

And due to the world cup cancelling out a month of Prem and Championship football, there was no commentary on the radio, nor no videoprinter.

All a bit dull.

We have dinner: tacos and home made spiced chicken tenders and salsa.

It was spicy, but not too spicy.

And after that, no football to watch on the tellybox, so we just have Craig on the wireless, playing funk and soul.

Jools beats me at crib.

And that was it.

Phew.

Friday 18th November 2022

It was, at least, nearly the weekend.

Before the weekend, I had to get through six and a half hours of work, including five hours of meetings.

Most of those I had arranged.

So, I blame myself.

We got up late as we went to bed well after 11 the night before, and my head was woolly all day. Concentration would be hard.

Jools left for work, I put the bins out and set up the office, logging on still takes 15 minutes before all systems are up and working. Once I get logged on, the first meeting was in ten minutes: the weekly, or now bi-weekly social.

It is rainy season in India, and after the weekend extreme, for India, weather is expected, with much flooding due to happen in around Chennai. Life seems to go on, most carry on working even if there is knee deep water in their houses.

It puts our issues into persepctive.

And then the work meetings, two of which others declined so I had to send out a "grenade" mail to let them know this wasnt acceptable. I copied in my boss. New boss.

At half one I finish, Jools comes home and gets changed.

It is her birthday next week, and for a while she has wanted an MR2 or some other "fun" car, so I booked her on a track day driving two spots cars at the nearby Lydden Hill track.

Lydden Hill was known to me as being one of the venues for rallycross wheich the BBC used to show on their Saturday morning sports show, Grandstand. I have only been here once before, wehen we witnessed the largest hot air balloon crossing of the channel, and the balloons took off from here.

It's only just outside Dover on the A2, and so just a 15 minute drive for us. Now, I had no idea what to expect, but I thought maybe 20 people, a handful of cars, and that was it. But what we saw was a couple of hundred of people milling aorund, abaout 50 cars and lots of people with clipboards ticking off names, or reading the next driver's name out.

We had to go and check in, which was a bit unclear, but in twenty minutes we got Jools booked in. An option was going for a demonstration lap with an experienced driver so to learn the layout of the track and what to look for and how to take corners.

She got take out in a BMW, and was gone about 5 minutes, as they drove round, all sorts of exotic spots cars were whizzing past them.

Once back we go over to the waiting area, check in there, and then wait.

There were cars and things to photograph, until her name is called out and she goes to be introduced to her co-driver and guide. Her first car was an Audi R8, a sixty grand car with lots of horses under the hood.

I walked back up the hill to the grandstands, changed the standard lens for the big boy and began snapping.

At least there was warm sunshine, unlike the day before when there was driving rain. Golden light lit the far side of the circuit, so I snapped as the Audi came round and round.

She did 5 laps, which was 6 miles. So, when the car came down the slip road to the pits, I went down to meet her, and then wait until she was called for her turn to drive one of the Lamborginis.

Her time came, though she didn't get the brint orange gull-winged one, one another with in a stunning violet metalic blue colour. I went back to the stands and took more shots in the fast fading light.

By then almost everyone had been out for their turns, so there were few people left, but others who had booked to sit beside professional drivers were out on lightning fast laps. Engines and exhausts road and popped.

Jools walked up the hill, and we walked to the car. At least it was a short drive home.

Dinner was something new: well, chicken Kyiv isn't new, but homemade lentil dahl is, made with cocnut milk, garlic, onions and lentils along with spices and herbs. Came out well, if I'm honest.

We were still pooped from our late night on Thursday, so had the wirelss on, then went to bed at eight. I read for a while, then slipped into a deep sleep.

World ambivalent

It is nearly 12 years since FIFA awarded the 2022 World Cup to Qatar.

This was due to be played in June and July of that year.

This year.

Only we are now in November, and no ball has been kicked yet.

This is because of was physically impossible to play football in Qatar in Jue and July due to the extreme heat.

Anyone who has visited or worked in a desert will tell you, it is very, very dangerous.

So, in time, the decision was made to switch the competition to November and December, because, you know, football is impossible in the desert in the summer. Like this was news.

It was to FIFA of course.

Of the 22 members of the executive committee that voted for the World Cup to be awarded to Qatar, half of them have been sanctioned for corruption.

And yet the decision was allowed to stand.

With no consultation with players, fans or other regional FAs, the World Cup was moved, and the rest of football just had to like it or lump it. Why this time period (November to December)?

Well, funny you should ask.

FIFA's main TV partners are in the US, and it had to fit in between the end of the World Series and the start of the NFL post season. Either that or it would be in February to March next year.

So it is now.

A country with the same population as Kent will have 8 (eight) world class football stadiums once it is over in five weeks time.

It is estimated that the 8 stadiums, the hotels and new airport cost something like £220 billion on infrastructure since being awarded the World Cup. How any of this is sustainable is beyond me.

And then there is the estimated 6,500 migrant workers who have died whilst working in the state in the last 12 years. Six and a half thousand!

Words fail me.

When a worker was killed at the showpiece stadium in Brazil it was headline news, six and a half thousand and the world shrugs.

LBGT is illegal in the country, and peole might be arrested and jailed if caught.

Meanwhile FIFA procalims equality.

It is all window dressing, of course.

Finally, yesterday it was announced that beer will not now be served at any of the stadiums, at least outside the VIP areas. Don't get me wrong, the banning of drinking before games could mean less problems, for the few fans that made the trip, but the real issue is with Budweiser.

Bud is one of FIFA's main commercial partners, and this should not have happened. Bud are not happy, though in public say it is something they will have to live with, but FIFA had 12 years to sort this out. So, we will have endless Bud ads round the pitches at all eight stadiums, but fans won't be able to drink, and FIFA have managed to upset their main commercial partner.

I hope the bribes that Qatar paid are worth all the deaths, the souring of football's name, the massive distruption to the football calendar.

Will I watch it?

Not every game.

Some games.

A few.

It begins in 24 hours and beyond the first game, I don't know when any other games are taking place or between whom.

Its about time we fans demanded and got our game back.

Thursday 17th November 2022

For the previous two days, the wind had blown and rain fell in large amounts. This meant that most leaves have been blown from trees that we can see from our upstairs window. This also means that the view over the Kingsdown Road to the downs behind now have the Dover Patrol Monument in view through the bare branches of an old oak tree.

This means it is now winter.

Or close to it, anyway.

I slept in, so that dawn was creeping over the valley out the back of the house, and actual blue sky visible above. I might go for a walk I told myself, half believing it.

Coffee.

Read the hellsites on the interwebs.

Another coffee.

And eyes down for a day at work.

Nothing actually burning down to rescue this day, though flames were quite close and people in the building were waving in quite a panic.

Keep calm, Ian.

The day is a mess of meetings, with just enough time between to make some potato bread to go with the chilli I defrosted. As ever, the bread is too big, but also too delicious not to eat all of. And as it contains an onion counts as one of your five a day, no?

After work I do go for a walk. Just up Station Road then up and down each of the four roads in the estate. All the while I had my eyes on the incoming black clouds that threatened even more rain, though in the end none came.

Back home to prepare dinner, another bountiful plateful of fritters dipped in garlic mayo.

Yummy.

More vegetables, see.

And then, instead of sitting in listening to music, we went out.

For the whole evening.

Years ago, when I had met Peter ain Broadstairs, in one of the bars there was a guy playing a cello, Celloman, and he was quite good. Although we were bot drinking pints of Delerium Red after a few other beers. Anyway, bloke with cello was playing at the Lighthouse in Deal, and Jools had invisited a guy from her work, Sean and his wife, Angela, to come along.

I drove us to Deal, parking up on the Strand, and inside Sean and Ang were waiting.

I had not met them before, so we had a nice chat before Celloblokey's brother came on.

Now, in the 90s, every European city would have a troup of panpipers, piping, trying to sell CDs of their work. Flutebloke played a Chinese flute to a claptrack, and sometimes it worked, mostly not. The first one was a mix of the Skye Boat Sone and Take the High Road.

Yeah.

After five similar tunes, he was done, and Celloblkey came on with a drummer and bass player and they went through their new album.

Now, a cello as a lead instrument seems a bit odd, but worked quite well, as I like a cello. Watching him get into the music and the look of joy on his face was wonderful.

Many tunes had a Middle Eastern tinge, which I think is a good thing. Not enough to buy the CD, but enough the enjoy the music.

At half ten we were down, so left before the final number, and as I had down three pints of mild, Jools drove, and on the way I saw one of the Leonid metors leaving a red scar across the sky.

Quite a day.

The Elon Musk Show

THe BBC is currently advertising a program called The Elon Musk Show, where people who know and or have worked with him say what a genius he is.

At the same time, Musk has trashed Twitter in less than a month in charge, and it seems the platform might fall this weekend after he was forced to lock people out of offices last night to stop soon to be former employees sabotaging the site.

Musk is the latest in a long line of of people, who grew rich on the works of others, who know the cost of everything and the value of nothing.

Twitter might just be a website, but it a searchable open source repository of news and knowledge outside the mainstream media. Sure there's a lot of BS there, but also a lot of truth.

Those will least, as ever, will suffer the most.

Wednesday 16th November 2022

It had to happen, but autumn turned into winter today.

Although at first things were calm enough, though was raining. By evening it would be blowing a gale and throwing rain down in great sheets.

Of course I had work

Jools got up real early, and was off to the pool before six to get her 20 or so lengths in. I should have done something simpar, but instead I made a second coffee and put some music on.

Cats were fed and they went to bed, then at seven, logged on for work.

I had audit admin to catch up on, then complete travel expenses, software issues meant that took most of the morning. But it gets done.

I have long conversations with my friends and colleagues about the latest issues we were facing in our work.

By the time the postman came with my latest book purchase, rain was hammering down like it was the end of the world, and the poor postie scampered from house to house. And there was nothing I could do to make his lot any better. Even the builders two doors down gave up and went home, so apart from the sound of falling rain, all was quiet.

Darkness fell early, storm clouds got darker, winds build to storm force and rain fell heavier.

The cats did not go out.

I made hash for dinner, a dish with lots of onions and peppers in. And spicy chorizo.

Yummy.

Evenings are quiet without football, this is the pause before the start of the world cup. Outside, the wind raged and them sheets of rain at the house.

Project Fear latest

From OBR report:

"Our trade forecast reflects our assumption that Brexit will result in the UK’s trade intensity being 15% lower in the long run than if the UK had remained in the EU. The latest evidence suggests that Brexit has had a significant adverse impact on UK trade."

Tuesday 15th November 2022

Five weeks until the shortest day.

And, as it turned out, the final mild autumn day, as oon Wednesday the weather will take a turn for the chillier.

I got to bed at ten past eleven the night before, and slept in until half six when my phone woke me up. Sadly, I had rearranged a twice delayed audit, and that was due to begin at half seven, so I needed to get two coffees in and wake my brain up in an hour.

Jools had made my first cup, and once I sunk that, I made a second.

Somehow I had done 10,000 steps the day before and my legs suggested we should do less, much less, today.

I would be auditing for six hours plus, so little walking, just to the kettle.

Half my job is an auditor, the other half is a coach, coaching people to be better, comply with requirements. I actually got a heartfelt thank you from the auditee at the end, to which I replied that such feedback gave me satisfaction in my job.

Which was nice.

It rained pretty much all day.

Cats stared out of the windows, or slept. Until it was time for dinner, or close to it.

I fed them.

The box of Belgian Christmas beers arrived, so will do the 12 days of Christmas again.

Dinner was easy, warmed up tagine and the remainder of a bottle of red President's XV. Went down proper well.

And that was your day. An evening spent listening to music, and an early night.

Unusual inflation

In normal circumstances, inflation is further driven upwards by increased pay demands.

And although there have been some larger pay increases, most have been much lower than the rate of inflation, meaning a year on year reduction in the standard of living of even those who get a pay rise.

But not at the moment here in the UK. There are outside inflationary pressures; the war in Ukraine and Russia reduction in the flow of gas certainly adds some to this, and we can see inflation all over Europe of similar levels.

Energy price rises increases inflation, of even goods that are produced in the UK, as energy is priced in US$, meaning that as the £ lost value against the $, all energy became more expensive. Including internal and external supply chains.

The pandemic has caused many EU and non-EU workers to return home, many not to return, so the vacancies they would have filled remain open. This means that those wages are unpaid, but also taxes are unpaid, flats and houses unrented and council taxes not paid either. It is estimated there are 1.8million open job vacancies in the UK currently.

There are those who cannot work; the sick, disabled, single parents the elderly, so there is pretty much 100% employment in the UK right now. Especially as on top of that there are hundreds of thousands of people suffering the effects of long COVID, these once active members of society can no longer work, so need support.

From a shrinking workforce.

The simple answer would be to import labour from the EU, but the dogma of Brexit makes that impossible for the PM and HOme Secretary to remain in post with the support of their backbenchers. Immigration from elsewhere is equally repulsed by the ERG and hardline Brexiteers, so the huge amount of economic inactivity carries on apace.

THe Government with falling tax revenues either has to cut spending or increase taxation. Or both.

But actual growth caused by increased productivity is hampered greatly by the scarcity of labour and the barriers the UK placed in its trade with the EU.

Growth can be brought swiftly, but removing the barriers to trade and the movement of labour.

So with a lack of labour bringing economic activity, and hopes of growth in the UK economy will remain just a dream.

There is little point in talking about Brexit much as little has changed, though there is talk of a thaw in relations, but we have heard that before.

The UK stands at the start of a two year recession, the only G8 economy to be doing so.

What could be unique to UK....

There's a Brexit-shaped elephant in the room. Or Parliament.

Monday 14th November 2022

Some days we do so much stuff, there's not enough space to post all the pictures I take.

Take Monday.

Monday was back at work day, a day of meetings and getting documents reviewed, but also I would go up to that London in the evening. For an event.

Sunday night we went to collect Jen's car so Jools had a car to drive to work, and I could go to the station after work.

That done, all was set.

Thing is, could I think of a good enough excuse not to go? Because as I get older, it seems easier to bail on things we have agreed to do, or even bought tickets for.

So, with banks of fog and mist sweeping over St Maggies through the day, I check train times to see if there were delays, or the weather to see if the weather would get worse after dark.

As it happens, despite fog and mist, trains kept running as normal. And there was no weather warnings for the evening either.

So, I worked through the day, looking out of the windows as the village faded from the view at times.

I would go I decided.

So, after the last meeting in the afternoon, I packed away the work computer and took the Audi to drive to Dover Priory, finding a place to park very near the station, much to my surprise.

A day return cost £37, so I bought that and went for a pasty and Coke in the buffet to wait.

A high speed train gets us to London in 63 minutes, and after that, a three stop ride on the Piccadilly Line to Leicester Square would take me to the centre of the west end where the action might possibly be.

The train wasn't full, only between Folkestone and Ashford when love-lorn school kids got on, gossiping about someone who might or might not facy them.

Bless.

At Ashford the train even waited for a connection from the Marsh Line, something no longer thought happens.

But does.

And then on to London.

There really is no better station to arrive into London.

Not as busy as I have seen, but lots of people milling around with suitcases, ready to travel.

I was making my way to the Piccadilly Line for a short ride to Leicester Square and the bright lights of the west end.

Arriving at Leicester Square, I fine neon everywhere and a Christmas Market set up in the middle.

For the snapper, it was a target rich environment.

Across Leicester Square, and over Piccadilly Circus to look up the curving Regency masterpiece that is Regent Street, already decked out ready for Christmas.

Back and into Chinatown, where it was packed. I mean packed so there was people jams. Most were from the far east, it seemed, and always struck me as odd that they would come to England and eat on the same food as back home. But then little different to package holidaymakers from England going to Spain in the 1970, dining on fry up and egg and chips.

I walked to Traflagar Square, bought a Cajun hot dog and a coke, and ate that sitting on a bench looking at the reflections in the fountain pools around Nelson's Column.

Oddly, I wasn't that hungry, so snacked through the day.

I went to find the venue for the event, a pub on the backstreets behind theatreland, I had half an hour, so waited and watched people before going in for a beer.

The event was a "thank you" for patrons of the music podcast I support. Other patrons came from all over London and the country, a couple from Dublin came too.

A soundtrack of party tunes was playing in the upstairs bar, and my slection, What's my Scene by The Hoodoo Guris was playing.

I meet some old familiar faces, we make small talk and jokes, most music based.

Sadly, I had to leave just before nine, as I had an audit first thing in the morning, and I really needed to catch the twenty to ten train back to Dover, even then it would be nearly ten to eleven before I got back to Dover, and then a ten minute drive home.

So, outside the pub I flag down a cab and he takes me up to St Pancras, so quickly I had twenty minutes to wait before departure, indeed the train wasn't even waiting when I went up from street level.

The train pulled out, and those of us on board relaxed as the train slipped below east London to Stratford, then on into Essex and to Kent.

I got back inside at just after eleven, Jools was alseep, so I slipped into the spare bed, and sleep took me from this world.