Friday 18th January 2013

And I left you last time with me deciding to head back to the hotel to do some work. I knew it would take nearly an hour to walk to the hotel, so I thought i would find a taxi. I mean, how hard could that be?

I walked to the centre of the town and see a sign for 'taxis'. so, I follow it to a crossroad in the pedestrianised main part of town. A sign pointed down a street, and another down an alleyway to almost back where I had begun. I saw bis stops, but no taxi rank. I try to flag several down, but none stop. An ancient Mercedes taxi sat on the other side of the street, but nowhere did it say taxi rank.

I try to flag one last taxi down, and he tells me to go see the Merc driver, by this time the driver had worked out I wanted a cab and so moved up towards me. I throw my bags in the back seat and climb in, and we lurch off.

It dropped me off at would be best to describe as a small castle; a château maybe. The Abbey Hotel is set in the grounds of Furness Abbey, and the main part of the hotel is rather wonderful; all wood panelling and fine art. So I walked in dragging my small case and wearing my steel toe-capped boots. A little out of place.

I checked in and was shown to my room; no four-poster, but a room with fine views down to the abbey. I take out my laptop and try to log onto the internet.

And that's when the fun really began. I could get the hotel network, but local only; no internet. I try and try again. I call reception; the lady who answered didn't know. 'It should just work' she said rather unhelpfully.

I worked offline as much as I could. A long time later, the internet was available, and so all I had to do was log onto the VPN network and all would be peachy. Only, no e mails were coming in. I waited and waited.

The taxi driver had told me about a good real ale pub nearby, so I thought I would seek it out. Having no smart phone now, I checked a map online and thought I knew the route. But as I discovered that is very well as long as you set off from the point you thought was the same as the one on the map. Turns out I was about a half mile out.

Instead of the pub I found a hospital. A large hospital. In truth, it wasn't really lost. Beside it was a modern housing estate; no ancient real ale pub there. It was cold, very cold. So I walked back to the hotel, ordered a beer and looked at the menu.

And so ended another day in the go-ahead world of Quality. Next day dawned cold and cloudy. As we had a nine thirty start, once awake I laid in bed for nearly two hours watching it get light outside and listening to Radio 4. This is why we went through punk in '76?

anyway, I went down for breakfast only to find the staff moving furniture round me as I sit down; is this the wrong time? I have salmon and scrambled eggs and leave sharpish before my chair is moved, with me on it, outside.

Graeme picked me up at nine and we braved the one way system in the town centre. Twice. As a wrong turn means going all the way round again.

So, we arrive; do the audit and then talk turns to snow. The opinion is Graeme and I should leave that afternoon to avoid snowmageddon which is being forecast for Friday.



Graeme takes me to the hotel, I throw my things in the case and after checking out he drops me off at the station, and at half one I'm rattle back to the mainland.



and so, getting off at Lancaster, changing onto a southbound train to Euston. A walk along Euston Road, a bit of a wait for the Dover train to arrive then scramble for a seat, and then into the darkness and on to home. I was back home by ten to eight, and sitting down with Jools for scotch eggs and salad and a huge cuppa.

Tomorrow is snow day; it had better as I missed out on Tandoori rump of lamb to go home.

Thursday 17th January 2013

Hello and welcome to Barrow in Furness. I have no idea what a Furness is, but we are in it.

With Barrow.

Barrow is situated on a headland at the north end of Morecombe Bay (possibly), it takes a 55 minute train ride to go from Preston to Carnforth onto the peninsular and then across two lots of mudflats to Barrow. I am here to do an audit tomorrow and am in a hotel in the grounds of Furness Abbey. It is very nice and not for the like of me in my workgear.

I wish I had stopped off at Carnforth for an hour, as it is where Brief Encounter was filmed, and it is a very nostalgic station. But I only thought of that as the train pulled out and I saw the wonderful looking station café on the other platform. Another time then?

Grange over Sands looks as hard and bleak as granite, but worth a return visit if only for the views over the salt flats I guess. It looks wonderfully bleak, if you know what I mean?

Anyway, I am here with more people on the train warning me about the strong possibility of getting my lights punched out in a town centre pub. I certainly got some hard stairs as I wandered around taking photographs, but I remain punch-free for now.

It was very dark when we woke up at a quarter to six, but the room was illuminated by the pale blue light that indicated snow had fallen. We had a couple of inches and it was still falling. We got dressed, had breakfast and then I went outside to move the car from the drive an onto the road. I put in my luggage and we headed out.

A lorry had jack-knifed at the bottom of Station Road, so we had to turn round and try to get to the top of the hill and onto the Deal Road from there. It took a couple of minutes of sliding and wheel spinning, but we got to the top and cruised to the junction: and then along the Deal Road and into Dover. Almost a blizzard was blowing, and I doubted any trains would be running. But a Javelin was waiting, and I got on it and a couple of minutes later it pulled out on time.

The snow petered out by Folkestone, and apart from patchy fog sweeping in, it was an uneventful trip to London. I had an extra half hour as I had caught an earlier train, so went to Kings Cross to see how the station clearance was going and to snap the scene, before heading Down Euston Road to the station and to wait for the train north to be called.

I saw the platform number go up on the sign, I move towards the platform and am in full stride as the announcement is made. I am second at the barrier and, well I won’t say run, but walk quickly to the first of the unreserved standard class carriages and bag one with a table and a fine window. The carriage only ends up being less than half full, and I had all four seats and the table to myself. And 20 seconds early we pull out into the winter morning.

There was some snow around Milton Keynes, and thick fog too in places. But most of all were naked trees with branches bleached white with hoar frost all along the route, or at least until 11 when it must have warmed up outside. It was glorious to see, and I wanted the train to stop so I could get shots. But couldn’t of course.

I got off at Lancaster, and my connecting train arrived, and soon the expanse of the bay spread out on the left hand side of the train. In the distance the peaks of the Pennines were white with snow, it looked magical. After an hour of trundling along, we pulled into Barrow and after snapping the station, I headed out into the town.

The town is like any other in Northern England, I guess; it is suffering from the economic downturn, and there are a number of closed shops. Even a discount Supermarket has closed and is boarded up. Most of the pubs look hard as nails, like the one in Pottersville; only to get people drunk. Fast. Maybe I’m wrong, but they didn’t look inviting.

So, I snapped some stuff, and at the town hall found a place to eat and had a salad and some spicy pasta and a beer.

Time then to find a taxi and take me to the hotel and maybe get some work done.

Tuesday 15th January 2013

in an attempt to enliven a dull week, I will be attempting to travel by train from the ice fields of Kent to Barrow in Furness tomorrow. I say ice fields, that should read potential ice fields of Kent, as all we have right now is the promise of ‘some’ snow overnight and into tomorrow. Southeastern Railways have suggested they cannot guarantee any services until tomorrow and they can assess the situation.

Let me say that the snow forecast is maybe an inch or so, and already the train companies are preparing for an abandonment of timetables services. Temperatures are expected to plunge to almost freezing point, so that must mean no train services at least until the weekend.

I know we say this every year, that how totally unprepared Britain is for the outbreak of winter. Can we really be so crap at this? I guess we must be.

On the offchance of reaching Barrow, I have booked a hotel, and am really looking forward to another trip up the West Cast mainline to Lancaster and then onto Barrow. Barrow is famous for having a very tasty bus station and a nuclear submarine shipyard. So, plenty of folks glowing in the dark with extra heads.

I have been warned that the locals can be a bit punchy, and to be careful in local pubs. Hmmmm. So, we shall see how that all goes. At least now we can virtually visit anywhere in the world thanks to Google Street View, and it looks like a normal town to me, just stuck out in the Irish Sea. But, hey, it’s going to be an adventure.

Right?



Last night then; no snow, no fox to watch out the living room either. We did head to my brother-in-laws as we are helping them brew their first batch of home brew cider. If truth be known, I did not feel like going out last night, but we did go. And having remembered everything except a hydrometer. A quick phone call to a friend meant we did not have to go home to get ours, and after checking the gravity it was found to still be too high; just as well we didn’t just get on and bottle it as probably the bottles would have gone pop.



Or boom.

So we sat round, drinking tea and swapping news. Sometimes it is good to have a change in scenery.

Elsewhere I have been looking for anti-allergenic pillows and sheets; such is the rock and roll lifestyle I lead these days, might even get a new vacuum cleaner too. Steady on, there.



In the real world, another High Street name appears to be heading down the toilet; HMV has called in administrators, and might well go to the wall. HMV is 91 years old, and is the last of the High Street chain of record shops. I should feel a pang of regret; and do for those that are going to lose their jobs, but is it really a surprise? We buy online or download music now, and it is seen as being a pretty disposable commodity in the 21st century. Maybe a backlash against tax-dodging Amazon will boost sales for those shops which might be saved, or it might just be delaying the inevitable.

Monday 14th January 2013

Good evening; welcome to Monday. And at least it is nearly over. And if you are reading this in NZ (Hi, Tony) it is already tomorrow. Outside, it has turned from a winter wonderland into the usual grey and damp winter’s day that are so typical of a winter in England.

Yes, we woke up this morning to find several flakes of snow had fallen and turned our dull and grey neighbourhood into a scene from Santa’s grotto. During the day, snow flurries turned into sleet which is now just plain, everyday rain. It may snow again tonight, which could make the trip into the office tomorrow morning interesting. By interesting, I mean screaming obscenities at other drivers for their stupidity.



So, the weekend is your oyster; what are you going to do to fill it up? Oh yes, chase streams that only appear once every seven years. The alternative route from Dover to Folkestone takes you along the Alkham Valley. Like all vallies, it must have been formed by water, but now you come to mention it, there is no river or stream running along it to explain the erosion.



When the water table gets high enough, a spring, a winterbourne flows along the valley. According to local lore the Drellingore flows one every seven years. In reality this happens only when there is enough water via the water table. It comes as no surprise after last year’s rain that most winterbournes in East Kent are in full flow at the moment.



My plan was to head to Alkham to snap the Drellingore, then maybe head to Barham to snap the Nailbourne. Before then, Jools had to have a haircut, so we were in the centre of Dover for half eight, then by nine parking up in Alkham marvelling at the dry culvert, or normally dry culvert was two feet deep in a torrent of water. We snapped it, then went out onto the main road to snap the whole scene before heading to Barham.



In an odd move, the bourne to the north of Barham was dry, but south of the village it was two feet deep and flowing well. We ended up in Lyminge, as I thought Jools might like to see the wonderful church there. Turns out it is my favourite Kentish church and she was not with me when I visited it a few years back.



Anyway, we found the Priest Door open, with a warden giving it a polish. So we take our shots and after some fine chit-chat move on. We do stop of at another church, but I shall not reveal its identity, as it is the subject of a GWUK on Flickr, and folks have begun to read these words. So no clues, guys.

We ended up heading home for lunch and then me snoozing on the sofa whilst I pretended to listen to the football on the radio. Before settling down to a long hard serious session of scanning family photographs. Norwich struggle to a 0-0 draw with Newcastle, and so are without a league win since before Christmas. I cook steak and ale pie for dinner which goes down very well.



Sunday, we should have gone to London to snap steam trains on the Underground. I baulked at the cost and what could very well have been a waste of time on a whole day of our weekend. I think we chose right, seeing a team locomotive on the tube would have been great, but little chance of getting any shots. What with the threat of snow hanging over the whole country, we decided to stay in Dover and maybe have a lay in.



During the week we had taken delivery of a couple of bean bags with which to support our cameras when we were snapping wildlife, so we went out to the Monument to snap the birds. I think the shots were better which justified the cost of the bags. Our plan to head out to the beach at Samphire Hoe to have a look at the Lydden Spout (another bourne) went unfulfilled as it was cold outside and we stayed inside and I fell asleep listening to the football on the radio.

And so ended the weekend.

This morning I had an appointment with the doctor to discuss my blood test results. Seems like I am just allergic to dust, and so there is no drugs that can be proscribed other than anti-allergy ones. I walked to the surgery over the fields taking shots as I went. And then back home to get back to work on my laptop…….

And finally, another name from the High Street vanished as Jessops closed it's doors for the last time on Friday, it's bankers having run out of patience and added 1600 to the jobless totals.

Your blog comments; an apology

My dear reader(s). Every now and again I go back to see what I was doing in that week in years gone by. Its harmless, and sometimes serves to remind myself how far, or not, I have come.

Anyway, looking back to 2009 and 2010 i see that many people wrote very supportive comments in reply to my posts. And it would appear that I promptly ignored your kind words.

Now, I would like to point out that back then, there was no single page you could review all comments, so you would stumble over comments. Or not.

So, if you have commented in the past, and pissed off because it seems I ignored you, it wasn't like that, honest.

So, if you would like to comment on any comments, please do and i will try to even answer you. Wowzers.

Sunday 13th January 2013

So, the choice to be made on Sunday morning was whether to head to London to see and photograph steam locomotion return to the London Underground for the fist time since 1905.

You might think this was, in fact, no choice at all. However, there would be drawbacks: the main one being the world and his wife had been made aware of the LU 150 celebrations; and so a quick internet search would reveal the route and times.

A trip to london costs something like £76 for the two of us, and that was 2012 prices, it's possibly near a ton now. And then there was going to be the crowds and the thought that a trip to London to see a train pass could mean getting into a ruck with hundreds of other photographers, and maybe not seeing anything at all.

So, we decided to stay home in Dover, save our money. Am I really getting that sensible now?

Friday 11th January 2013

On the 12th of January 2009 I was ‘let go’ by the box company I had been working for. At the time, to be turned down for what was a job only paying the minimum wage seemed to be the final straw. Although it was never going to be the final straw. But at the same time neither Jools or myself saw it as my dream job, just something to do until another, better job came long. I suppose that is what the box company thought, and why I was not kept on.

Thankfully, those dark days seem so very long ago. Hearing my old friend, Dick, getting a job, even if was for BA in Saudi, it meant that I felt I was being left behind. But, things did get better, if took a couple of months, but I found this job.

What it did do was make me go through the whole unemployment system, feeling like a piece of worthless crap as each two weeks you had to justify that you tried to find work hard enough to justify your dole. In practice it wasn’t that bad, but then that is exactly what happened. To show how tiny-minded the system was, I found this job, and was due to start on a Monday, but I was due to go through a morning of lectures to help me improve my job-finding chances. That I had a job already meant that this was a waste of my time, and a waste of their time and money. But I was told that if I did not attend my money would be stopped and I would lose three days dole money. Gain a day in which to do ‘stuff’ or go to the course.

I stayed home and lost three days money and gained a sense of satisfaction. But it does show how tightly rules have to be applied and that there is no room for common sense. Oh well.

So, after another tough day at the coalface, during which I was told:

1. I was not going to be site assistant on the project in Belgium (a waste of my skills)
2. Was told, in not so many words, that I was getting promoted.

Now, I have a feel it’s one of those modern promotions with more responsibilities and less money, but that I might have minions to order around and do my bidding is an odd one. How did it come to this? Anyway, that is in the future, maybe the second half of the year. Before then there is much to do (no, really). I have trips planned to Barrow in Furness, Denmark (for a change) and later to Sweden. And that’s just work!

In our spare time, i.e. weekends there are many things to see and do; beer festivals, steam on The Underground, more churches, pubs and all that fun stuff. So, I am enjoying these days when I still go into the office in Ramsgate, which is nice, especially to be home by five and have the whole evening with Jools and the cats. But things do change, and it means getting out to new places, places which I can then photograph. Perfect.

Anyway, there I was preparing dinner last night; nothing complicated; scotch eggs, coleslaw and lots of Piccalilli, which is just perfect. In fact how did I reach the age of 47 without eating Piccalilli? We’re both making up for lost time. Anyway, the phone rings, and it’s the doctor’s receptionist. I have to make an appointment, as my blood tests are in, and my allergy levels are high. Well, I wish I could say I was surprised, but six months of flu and colds, or the symptoms of them says that, clearly something was up.

So, anyway, I had an appointment to see the quack on Monday to see what can be done. Until then I’ll keep taking the drugs!

Watching two hours of astronomy on TV last night might have been a little much, especially as there was three more hours over the two previous nights; I can say, space is brilliant, time is brilliant, space-time is brilliant and this is just what we pay our TV licence for! Anyway, it was brilliant. And the brilliant Dr Brian Cox was on it, and he was brilliant.

And so to the weekend and all what it may bring. Huzzah!