Wednesday 8th December 2010

Hello and good evening.

The news is, well, I have been busy. Kinda.

For the past three days I have been doing a first aid course, which it turned out was not just a first aid course, but a workplace first aiders course. So I can now add that to my CV, if the need arises of course.



So, we arrived home a week ago from the bright lights and glamour of Manchester and Blackpool for icy winds but no snow. But we did not have to wait long as soon enough it began to fall. I lit the fire as we tried to warm the house up. While outside the drifts began to pile up.

Of course, the British idea of heavy snow may differ from yours, but by the morning there was about 5 inches outside; and a quick look at the main road showed that we would be going no where for a while, or at least until the ploughs arrived. And then there was the factor that more snow was forecast for the afternoon. And so I plugged my work laptop in and set it up, and carried on working as normal. Or as normal as it can be with two kittens jumping up and down.

Friday it looked just about clear enough to try to head into work; first I had to drop Julie off in Dover and then try to get back out of the town, up the many hills. That done, the snow began to fall again, and even on the four lane road to Sandwich there was just the one lane open in each direction, and we tip-toed along at 30 mph, and this continued until I got to Ramsgate and the office.

Work done, I headed back home half an hour or so early, just in case the snow did fall again, and back via Tesco as we tried to get some supplies as at the sight of a flake of snow folks had cleared the shelves of bread and milk.

Once home we heard on the radio that England had failed to win the right to hose the World Cup in eight years time, and Russia winning the right. And then Qatar winning the right to host the 2022 competition. I say won, more likely paid the most money. whatever, it's all leaves a sour taste in the average fan's mouth.



With milk and bread and a few other things, it was back home to settle in for a quiet night, and as it turned out, a quiet weekend; as I think we were pooped out by our travels in the past week.

On sundat the rain began to fall at dawn, and soon the rain was melting fast. Snow or now, it was not the weather for travelling, and so we settled in for a quiet day in, and football for me on the TV and radio. The old enemy lost in the televised game Saturday lunchtime, and then City won away at Derby to go fourth. Not a bad day. And then I got a migraine, which left me with the Hobson's choice of going to bed with the lights out; which I did of course.

Sunday, we drove to Deal once the rain stopped; we parked up and walked along the far end of the promenade to where the golf courses start, right to the remains of Sandown Castle. Chilled to the bone, we turned round and walked home and then drove home for lunch and then more football on TV.

And so on.

And then onto Monday and the course: so, instead of heading to Ramsgate, I drive to Folkestone for a nine o'clock start for lectures on injuries and how to fix them. And drink coffee. Lots of coffee.

Repeat three times.

It is now Wednesday. And we are still snow free. for now.

Friday 3rd December 2010

Or what we did in Blackpool.

I finished yesterday as we waited for our train to carry us through Bolton, Preston and onto Blackpool and the seaside.

We waited at one of the two through platforms, and at the appointed time a two carriage EMU trundled in, and we climbed into a couple of empty seats and away we went into the dusk of a Lancastrian late afternoon. We were sitting on the wrong side of the train to see the tower from a distance, but I did spot the sun setting with a great flourish beyond the Irish Sea.

It was nearly dark when we climbed off the train at Blackpool North, and consulted our mobile phones for directions to our hotel. But, it seems 'your location' is accurate to only within 1600m, and as our hotel was closer to the station than that, it was anyone's guess. But, knowing we were at the station, looking at the map I was able to see where the hotel was, and we headed off down the road with the sea glinting in the middle distance. We turned right when we reached the prom, and walked past the Metropole Hotel and then up one of the side streets to our hotel.
We rang the bell, and the owner came down; Mr H? He asked. Yes, we said. Oh do come in.
He showed us to our room and said we should go down to the living room for a cuppa and we would sign the register and have a chat.

Being a hotelier was really only a hobby, as Fraser is a nuclear scientist full tie; and teaches that subject locally after graduating from CERN. In the end we had a fine talk about life, science and what we did, what he did. We also drank tea, coffee and ate biscuits.

He recommended an Italian place round the corner, and after a quick wash and brush up, we wrapped up warm and set off for a constitutional, with cameras too.

Blackpool in December is cold, and quiet, doubly so on a Monday night. Most places were closed, the tram tracks were being replaced and (as we were to find out on the morrow) the tower was even closed. But, we walked down the promenade, The Golden Mile, past rows and rows of fast food joints, B&Bs, bars and the such, all closed for the winter.

We turned back and headed up through the town centre, a few pund shops were still open casting a golden light over the rows of waiting taxis in the rank outside.

We found the restaurant and got a table near the log fire, and over glasses of cava we ordered and ate good food. And people watched.

Not a bad day.

At all.

Tuesday we woke up toasty warm, and had a cuppa along with a biscuit. Oh yes, biscuits. Most hotels leave one mean packet of three biscuits for a days tea and coffee; but not this place. A dozen packets of cookies and ginger nuts were spread out among enough milk, coffee and tea bags for a weeks stay.

We went downstairs for breakfast, and were presented with a huge plate of scrambled eggs, sausage, beans, hash browns and four rashers of bacon. And then there was toast. And more tea and coffee.



We rolled down the road to the promenade, and walked down onto the beach just north of the North Pier. It was glorious. Cold but glorious. The beach at low tide stretched beyond the end of the pier, to the north the snow covered hills that lead down to Barrow glistened in the sun. On the horizon, Robin Rigg windfarm glittered in the sun, that's another of our projects; all working fine.

We walked under the pier, basking in the glorious sunshine, but wrapped up against the keen wind. It was wonderful I have to say. But, we had a rendezvous to keep; with an old friend, Jane, in the cafe at Debenhams. We made it with a couple of minutes to spare and chatted away the morning.



We parted at midday, and we tried to go up the tower; but it was closed. What to do? No trams, no tower. We walked around the town centre, and then headed to a pub at the end of our road for a drink.

And yay! they had Warsteiner on draught. Two pints, Mr Landlord; now, any bratties?

We went back to the hotel, so we could be rock and roll and read. I finished the Stephen Fry autobiography and maybe had a beery snooze.

Rock, and indeed, roll.

That night we headed out to the Italian place for more pasta and fruity wine.

We packed and so were ready for what was looking to be an interesting trip home on the morrow.

We were awake early enough, showered and had a light breakfast, and so made the 08:45 train back to Manchester with over an hour to while away before our train to London was due to leave.

Snow.

Lots of snow began to fall as we arrived in Manchester. And by the time we climbed out of the train, a blizzard was blowing outside. As we went to the cafe on the mezzanine floor for coffee, the announcements was that no trains would be running to Sheffield or Cleethorps, and trains east were all delayed. The platform from which our train was due to leave was most certainly train-less.

At ten past eleven, it arrived and we grabbed seats and prepared to wait before the train departed. But, there was no wait; just 5 minutes late we headed into the snow and towards home.

As we headed south, the snow got less and less, and we began to worry less too. London was almost snow free, and even though the walk along Euston Road was cold, we arrived at St Pancras in time for the Dover train, which was on time.

As we came out into the light at Dagenham, the snow was back, an inch or two on the ground; but we did not slow up, and rushed towards Kent and home. At Ashford, the snow was back, but thinned out again as we neared Folkestone and the coast.

At Dover, Jools' father was waiting to take us home, and there was very little snow at all. Once home we were greeted by four mewing cats; all hungry. And as we settled down on the sofa, we looked outside and the snow began to fall.

we had made it home just in time.

Thursday 2nd December 2010 (part 3)

Monday was not quite as cold as the previous day; and so we had decided, due to the weather forecast of possible snow we would not head to Chester, but to head to Salford quays instead, for culture and architecture. and photography. So, we headed to Piccadilly Station, this time to catch the metro, or the tram as it was, and head out to Salford.
We had breakfast in the station cafe, and huge coffees before as we waited for the rush hour to abate. Three pounds bought us each a return ticket on the tram, and a long wait on the draughty platform beneath the station.



But before long we were heading up the main street, and then past what was G-Mex and onto old rails and into Salford. Over the ship canal and then beside a large dock the tram spat us out into the crisp air.

It was well signposted, and we headed slowly along the dock, or former dock to the Lowry Centre and the Imperial war Museum (North) on the other side of the river. It had started out cold and grey, but soon enough the clouds parted and the sun came out, and without a breath of wind made for fine pictures. There is a photogenic bridge leaping over the river, and I snapped it, and snapped it good from all anles, before the cold sent us into the nearby mall for coffee.



Back out we crossed the bridge and headed for the war museum, as it is all modern and has brutal architecture, and made for more fine shots. We went inside, and it was good; informative without glamorising. As ever the items from the Holocaust brought me up short; how could human beings, much like you and I treat others, like vermin? There is no place deep and painful enough where those who committed such acts will spend eternity.
We climbed in a rickety lift to go to the top of the shard tower, for fine views over Salford, whilst standing on a metal grid. My head did cartwheels as the vista opened out and you could see hundreds of feet below as you walked. Keep looking forward, Ian.



And so, back to Manchester; buy two tickets to Blackpool and wait for our train to depart.

More next time, peeps.

Thursday 2nd December 2010 (part 2)

Sunday dawned cold. 'Kin cold. I mean there was no wind to stir the chill, but the air just hung feeling heavy like the opposite of a fur coat. we walked to a cafe and had huge hot drinks and a cooked breakfast. we had to sit on the mezzanine floor as on the lower floor, the cold hugged the ground like a mist.

We headed out towards one of the old industrial areas, now taken over by the gay community; all bars and clubs along an old canal, all overshadowed by warehouses which are now loft apartments and the such.

What was amazing, was that a couple of clubs were still playing high energy dance music, although whether they were folks dancing still, is a question I cannot answer.

We crossed back over towards Piccadilly Basin, which we hoped would be full of narrow boats and those filled with water gypsies. Or I did. Possibly. Instead we were greeted by a car park on a brown field site, overlooked by more ex-warehouses. We spotted a shady character heading down a towpath into a tunnel, and I thought we should follow.

The towpath lead under the carpark, the road and Piccadilly back towards the gay quarter. It was good to see such and odd place, and wonder what goes on when the sun sets. Best not to ask or wonder, eh?

We headed to the station for a coffee as a couple of other friends were heading for our meeting, and we thought that being there would make meeting easier. Not taking into account that I had changed my phone, and I did not have Ang's number. So we sat and waited, drank coffee and waited some more.



I got a call that Ang and Claire were at the wheel, and we stomped off into the cold to meet and to take pictures; lots of pictures.
The meet was of a group I am a member of on Flickr; we are all pretty much like-minded, and so set off into the masses of the Christmas market to see who or what we could snap, and to talk of course.



After a couple of hours of wandering and snapping, thoughts turned to beer and my thoughts turned to football; as Norwich were about to play Ipswich, and it was on TV. So began the hunt for the pub with a TV or was open, and we settled on the Old nags Head. They had a TV and the barmaid found BBC 1. Sadly most of the beer was off; they just had one beer, one lager and no milk for coffee. But, they did have the football. And after removing several layers, I got down to the serious business of watching the game.



The good news was that Norwich won 4-1, and that matched the number of beers I had, and so was pretty merry. We put our coats back on and headed back for more snaps, and to get some nice smelling food. The light was amazing, and we all got some fine shots. As the light faded, we headed to Bloos local for a couple more beers and then we scattered; home or back to our hotel.



That night Jools and i headed out, in a warm taxi, to an Indian place Bloo had recommended called East 2 East. It was very swish, but the food was fine, just a little spicy for me. I explained I normally had something Madras-like. a Madras, but thought I should try something different of about the same spiciness. When it came, it bubbled and hissed in its tray, but I could spot the whole chills right off.

Even missing those out it blew the top of my head off, and I could only eat less than half of it. But was full enough anyway.
walking out, we realised our hotel was a 5 minute walk away, and we could save ourselves the fiver cost. And so we walked down the deserted streets, under the Arndale and back to the hotel and warm, soft bed.

Thursday 2nd December 2010 (part 1)

And welcome back to the Arctic circle. Or Kent, as it is more commonly called. It seems winter arrived whilst we were in the north, or at least the snow did. The cold beat us to Manchester, minus nine degrees as it was as we stepped off the train.

But we're getting ahead of ourselves.

Of course, with hindsight, it is easy to see that travelling to Manchester and Blackpool on the last weekend of November might be tempting the weather Gods to throw their worst at us; but it's never that bad in Blighty is it??

So, Saturday morning rolled round, and we took the cats to the cattery, cleaned the house and at eleven set off for Dover station and the first leg of our trip north. It had began to snow as we left home, but once we got to Folkestone there was over an inch on the ground, and I did begin to worry that it was a mistake to do the trip.

But it was too late for those thoughts.

We arrived into St Pancras, and walked along the frozen Euston Road via Marks and Sparks for some classy food for the trip and an Italian chain for pasta and fizzy sweet wine. It was fine enough and we floated to Euston Station and our red and white train to speed us north to Manchester.

With wild abandon, we upgraded to first class for the princely sum of 15 pounds. And so we settled into our reclining armchairs with cups of fresh coffee laid before us, and soon enough London's north-west suburbs rolled by, and then wonderful Milton Keynes and then up the Trent Valley.

It was all rather splendid; waiter, more coffee if you please. we rolled into Crewe and did not change; and then Stockport, possibly, before as the sun set on a cold blue sky, we trundled past the Manchester outskirts, Man City's new home before pulling up at Piccadilly.

The doors slid open and the artic air rushed in. By heck, it were cold. Not just cold, but cold to the bone. We consulted our phones for directions to the hotel, and set off towards Piccadilly Gardens. Our hotel lay between a shoe shop and a branch of Subway; but was nice enough. We had a fine large room with a view over a side street to an interesting pub.



We went out soon after, wrapped up like Nanook of the north and his wife and tottered up towards the Arndale and the glittery lights of the closing shops and to weave our way in between the overladen shoppers.

The place I was heading for was the big wheel in the centre of the city, and so with little persuasion from Jools we were soon queueing up for a ride round and over the roofs of the shops.
I had ridden the wheel by day, and it was good, but by night the vies were spectacular indeed. We could right over to Salford and Old Trafford, still emptying after their 7-1 win.



Into The Printowrks to meet with my friend, Bloo. We watched as the young and fearless, some wearing nothing more than a net curtain, apparently, set out on a night of white lightning and dancing round their handbags. Whilst we shivered in our dozen layers.



Bloo turned up, and we headed for dinner; a Chinese buffet place called Yum Yums, which at a tenner or so a pop was not as cheep or as cheerful as it might have been; but the food was good and plentiful.

And then onto Bloo's local, for beer and chat. And a couple more beers thrown in for good measure before it was time to head back out into the bitter cold. We got lost, or took a wrong turn, and flagged a taxi down to take us the 500 yards through the backstreets to our hotel and our warm, warm bed.

Thursday 25th November 2010

And so we woke on Sunday feeling slightly drained after the walking around Canterbury done the day previously. We lay in bed until the mewing and scratching of the kittens forced us out of bed. And I sat on the sofa and watched the re-run of Match of the Day, filled as it was by surprise results and red cards.
At half ten we headed out to look at some bathrooms. This time in Wickes, rather than a bespoke bathroom emporium. Needless to say, prices were more to our liking, and we decided on something that looked ok. All we have to do now is to see how our respective jobs pan out until Christmas, and then we shall arrange a bloke to fit the stuff. Both our jobs are on the line, but Jools should know by the beginning of December, and I might know by Christmas.

Or not.

So, after looking round nice bathrooms and kitchens, we headed home for lunch and once the rain began to fall, I sat on the sofa for an afternoons football on TV, and kittens asleep on my lap.

And so Monday rolled round again, and instead of packing for a trip to the frozen wastes of Denmark , I was driving once more to Ramsgate for a normal week at work. Things do change, of course. And so apart from the occasional bump, the week has been fine, just a little quiet at times, but gives me a chance to bury my head in procedures; at some point I am hoping its all going to make sense!

So, two more days at work, and then a 5 day weekend, and we head out on our holidays for a couple of nights in Manchester and then Blackpool .

Sunday 21st November 2010

A day, so they say, is a long time in politics; and so it is true in the life of an international quality expert. I say international as I have worked in France for seven days doing this job; and expert because I can't think of a better word. But with each passing day I feel I know more than those who have been working with the system for years. Oh, a little knowledge can be a dangerous thing.....



So, this week my boss has been on the second week of his holiday in the land of the Pharaohs; and so it has been up to me to prepare for our scheduled quality meetings in Denmark this week. That done, flights and accommodation arranged, plus the chance to meet an old RAF friend whilst in Denmark it was all shaping to be an interesting week. And then the phone goes; it's my boss; he's quite ill and unfit to travel next week, and so all the meetings and the trip have been postponed.

And then an afternoon of cancelling travel arrangements and the such, and instead of packing this weekend I have been lazing around. Amongst other things.

And Friday had been going so well; my old Boss, Ian and one of the other guys went to the Bell in Minster for a pint and cheesy chilli chips for lunch; a good weekend ahead and the end of what was going to be my last full working week at Ramsgate until the new year.

And, as I said, the phone rang.

Oh well. For Saturday, I had planned an all day Flickrmeet in Canterbury, starting at eight in the morning and going on until after dark, if anyone else would turn up. And so it was seven when we left the house for the short drive to Canterbury, and half past when I was dropped off on the deserted streets. And the day was mine; as it were.



I walked a circuit of the cobbled streets getting shots of the empty streets, with the lights still showing strong in the shop's windows. At eight I went to the Cathedral Gate, and already my friend Matt was there. We waited ten minutes more and another couple arrived, and so we went for a walk through the city centre, and out past the old King's School and back again.

I had prepared an itinerary, and so at nine we made our way to the coffee shop to see if any one else would arrive, and for some of us to have a second breakfast.

One more person arrived, and so the five of us headed off to the city walls for a walk along them to the castle. Sadly, the weather was, and stayed overcast all day, making photography tricky; but we got some shots and plenty to get our juices flowing.
The castle was closed for the whole moth for renovation, and so we walked back to the centre of town, and we found we had an hour before the next rendezvous at half twelve in a pub. As it is Jools' birthday this week, I headed off to get a card and left the others.
After getting one, I saw that the pilgrim's hospital was open, and at just a pound to get in, I thought I would take the chance to visit in the half hour I had. First, as king if photography is allowed, of course!



After getting my shots, I headed to the Dolphin for a refreshing beer and a baguette, and waited for the others to arrive. In the end it was two long beers and plenty of chatting before we headed out back onto the streets. The intention was to visit the ruins of St Augustine's Abbey, but the light was fading past, and at about three the others decided to call it a day and i was left alone.



Alone and trying to find a public toilet as the two pints tried to exit my body; after finding two sets closed, the only things was to visit a pub, order another pint and use the facilities there. So, I went to the Miller's arms, ordered a pint of Christmas Ale and took a seat by the fire and checked up on the football scores on my mobile.



At four I went to meet with Jools at the Cathedral Gate, and in the fast fading light we walked round so I could get some shots of the shops and shoppers before the chill made us head to another bar for more warming beer.



Rather than wait for our reserved table, we tried to restaurant we had booked early to see if our table was free; and they were more than pleased to serve us early.

And so we sat down to a Moorish starter to share; smoked peanuts, kofke style meatballs, chorizo sausage and some kind of dip; all very nice. And then our tagines arrived, which along with some couscous was splendid. Time for a coffee and a selection of sweet, sticky cakes, and then a walk in the chill night air to the car and a quick drive home.