Walking in the Shadows

Random musings from Warwickshire on life in general... Things that make me laugh, make me cry, things that wind me up beyond all endurance - and everything in between.

Showing posts with label Travel. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Travel. Show all posts

Summertime – and I’m back on the Road to Eternity

I know that I have posted from the gig, but this post has all the background...  So please bear with me!

As the title suggest, I went to see Magnum on their summer Long Road To Eternity tour.  This time, it involved travelling to Warrington, as my partner decided that he didn’t fancy going to see them in Stoke on Trent. 

I suspect this was because it was at the start of the tour, and was on a Tuesday night, whereas the Warrington gig was the penultimate stop, and was on a Thursday night, meaning that we could both take the Thursday and Friday off to make a nice break for the pair of us.

We travelled up on the A-roads, as my partner isn’t keen on motorway driving, and the M6 by Stoke on Trent was buggered as per normal.  There seems to be something about that piece of motorway that encourages accidents – if there is a problem, it’s normally on that stretch.

The only slight drawback was trying to find somewhere for lunch.  The first place we stopped was by Trentham Gardens – the Harvester called the Poacher’s Rest.  Well, it was struck off the list to stop for three reasons:

  • It was warmer outside that it was inside – they had the air conditioning set to polar levels
  • It was expensive – even on the so-called lunchtime specials – not to mention that neither of us liked the “options” on the lunchtime menu.
  • The choice of Real Ales - three if you were lucky.

Needless to say, we only stopped long enough for a quick drink and a comfort stop before hitting the road to Warrington.  It wasn’t a bad run – apart from the fact that it was lashing it down with rain.  Not fun to drive in, and I freely admit to being grateful I wasn’t driving.

About 3pm, we struck really lucky.  We spotted a pub that looked half decent, and stopped for a rather late lunch.  

My partner had his reservations, as it did look expensive, but a quick check on the Google reviews  decided it for me – it was worth taking a chance on. (What did we do before Google?   And the pub is called the Spring Brook)

We had a drink, and looked at the lunchtime menu – it ran from 12:00 to 17:00, so we were in luck.  I’d already decided that I was going to have the bacon cheese burger.  

My partner did the same, only he decided that he wanted his as a double, on the grounds that it was late, and he didn’t really want to try and find somewhere to eat in Warrington before the gig.  That struck me as a good idea, so I opted for the same thing.

So, for £13, we had two burgers that needed planning permission, with beer battered onion rings and chips.  It was well worth it – the burgers were juicy, the bacon was back bacon and crispy on the edges the way I like it, and mature cheddar.

As luck would have it, we were only a few miles away from our overnight stop in Stretton.  I’d taken a chance and booked a B&B – The School House.

It was only a small B & B – 4 rooms, but boy, did I strike lucky on this one.  The rooms are named for different subjects – English, Science, Maths and History – logical I suppose as it was an old school.

We arrived, and were warmly greeted by Garry, who showed us to our room, and advised on the best taxi company to use to take us into Warrington.

He suggested breakfast, and as I hadn’t booked on the grounds that I wasn’t sure if my partner would be interested, we took him up on the offer.

Whilst my partner got the flight bags out of the car, I sorted out the breakfast with Helen, and then made my way to the room.

We’d been given the History room – which was a real surprise.  It was really spacious, with plenty of space for the pair of us to hang the t-shirts that we had bought with us.

The towels weren’t the usual mean, thin little scraps that I’ve experienced in UK hotels before – these were big and fluffy – and just right to dry my hair with.  And, as an added surprise, there were little bars of soap – perfect if you hadn’t got your own toiletries with you.

We decided to have drink in the local pub before we got ready for the gig, and walked across to the Cat & Lion.  From the outside, it looked rather attractive, but looks as they say, can be deceiving…

Given that this pub had a Premier Inn attached to it, I would have expected it to look better.  In fact, if I was staying at the Premier Inn, I would be looking for somewhere else to eat.  It looked… Tired for want of a politer description.

Thankfully, we’d already eaten, and I had spotted a pool table….  We (or rather I) decided that we could have a couple of games whilst we had a drink (or two)…  That didn’t really go to plan, as the “real ale” according to my partner was as gassy as a pint of lager, and the Kraken black rum?

That tasted off as well – it was too sweet, almost as if it had a sweeter spirit added to it.  I tried the Lambs Navy rum, thinking that would be better, but that definitely tasted “wrong” to me.  Again, it was like someone had put a cheaper spirit in the Lambs bottle.

Needless to say, neither of us were too keen, and we quickly headed back to the B & B to get ready for the gig…

The shower was really good, and made me feel brighter – just ready for the gig.  We booked the taxi for 18:00 from the Cat & Lion, as it would be easier for the driver to collect us from there.

Amazingly the driver was early, and we quickly finished our drinks (I was daft and tried another rum – not good) and headed into Warrington.

The driver was really helpful, and told us that the best option to get a cab back to Stretton was to walk to the office – which was a two minute walk away from the Parr Hall.

We got to the Parr Hall, and they weren’t letting anyone in until 19:30 when the doors opened.  That meant we had nearly two hours to kill before we could go in.

As we had already eaten, the Italian place that we had been told about was San Lorenzo.  The same restaurant chain that is in London, and favoured by the super rich in Kensington….

So, we opted for a bar near by – Las Ramblas wine and tapas bar.  Not the sort of place that I would have normally chosen, but there were quite a few Magnum fans in there, so it made for a reasonable atmosphere.

You could almost see the regulars having a hissy fit at the influx of rock fans, and I heard several snarky comments made about the number of us being in there – as if we lowering the tone of the place.  I muttered something about it being a case of “all lace curtains and no knickers” .

It was expensive - £12 for four bottles of beer.  Ok – it was Estrella Galicia, but no way was it worth that.  But there were some good laughs though with other Magnum fans, and when we saw the queue for the Parr Hall starting to move, we joined it.

I think the Parr Hall missed a good chance to make some serious money – the bars were heaving as we got in, and my partner was a real sweetie – he went and got me a drink, whilst I went to get myself the obligatory (for me) tour t-shirt.

Now I had been somewhat devious, and bought a limited edition vinyl copy of Chase the Dragon – the first Magnum album that my partner bought – and it was the one that got me into the group. 

It was an anniversary present – we’ve been together for three years, and  I hoped to get it signed by the two original members of the band, when they came down after the gig..  Only to be told that they weren’t planning on doing an appearance after the gig.

Well, I was determined to get Bob Cately and Tony Clarkin to sign it, so kept my plans quiet when I joined my partner in the bar.  As luck would have it, my partner went to watch the support act, and I said I was off to the ladies…  And off I slipped.

I asked for a favour from one of the band’s support team (who shall remain nameless), but they have my gratitude for the help in getting Bob and Tony’s autograph on the album cover.



So, having had Bob and Tony sign my album, I went back to the bar.  My partner was relieved to see me, as he had been worried about me – he didn’t think to look for me in the foyer.  Good thing he didn’t otherwise he would have spoilt the surprise….

The look on his face was priceless when he realised what I had managed to do.  He was so happy, and decided that he was going to frame the album, as he hadn’t realised that my plan was to get the two original members of the band to sign it for me.

So once I had secured the album back into my bag, it was time to wriggle my way to the front.  My partner didn’t expect to get anywhere near the front, but me being small, I decided to see how close I could get…

And the answer?  Right at the front – second row to be exact.  Being small certainly helps at times, as people were quite happy – I was told by one fan that he didn’t mind me being in front, as he could see over me, and could also take photos over me.




The set list was pretty good as well – again, some songs that I still am not familiar with:

1. Wild Swan
2. Sacred Blood “Divine” Lies
3. Lost On The Road to Eternity
4. Crazy Old Mothers
5. Your Dreams Won’t Die
6. How Far Jerusalem
7. Les Morts Dansant
8. Show Me Your Hands
9. All England’s Eyes
10. Vigilante
11. Don’t Wake The Lion (Too Old To Die Young)
12. The Spirit

You could see that the band were enjoying themselves – the massive smiles on Al and Tony’s faces were something of a giveaway…




And again, during the guitar solo on Don’t Wake The Lion (Too Old To Die Young), you could see that Tony was enjoying being the centre of attention for once…



I think one of my favourite photos is this one:


But this one comes a very close second:


Some of the photos I didn’t realise I’d managed to get such a clear shot…


But the shots I am most proud of were of the band at the end of the gig:








And at the end, there’s always something sad about the empty stage….



Such a contrast to the start of the gig – even before the support band made their appearance:



But it was a good gig.  Would I see Magnum again?  Yes.  The fans are a good bunch, and whilst Magnum might not be fashionable, they put on a good show for those of us who do go, and are willing to sign things – even before they go on stage.

And that, to me is the real difference.  They care about their fans, and don’t make you feel like pond scum for asking for something as simple as an autograph.  The album won’t be sold – it was a gift to my partner, and it means an awful lot to the pair of us.

Ah well - guess I'd better call this quits - I'm falling asleep.

Back when I get chance.

Karen

You know we're lost on the road to eternity
Nobody's looking and nobody cares
You know we're lost on the road to eternity
Well there's no mercy, no magical prayer


Finally at the End Of the Road to Eternity.

The Long Road to Eternity

Well, this was a let down. Not through any fault of the band - the great British weather intervened and the gig was cancelled at 19:20. Fair play to the band - they offered a free drink to the fans and came down to the bar to see those of us who made it through the snow.

Tony and Bob are real gents, and if I am honest, I would have preferred the gig. But Mother Nature intervened and it wasn't to be.

Will I attended if they reschedule? You bet. The album is a cracker - and I can't stop playing it in the car - especially Welcome to the Cosmic Caberet and Without Love.

Rock on Magnum - the new album is a blast!!!




Karen

Our dreams, won’t die
If you remember them each day
Sweet dreams, blue sky
They’re gonna take you all the way
I believe, in you, no lie
Your dreams, won’t die
Your dreams won’t die

Bank Holiday escape

What a bank holiday weekend.  I didn't want it to end, as it was such a good time.  My partner had been on about going to Chatsworth as he really enjoys that sort of thing, and as I’ve never been, thought it would be an ideal escape for the pair of us.

As he lives north of me, it made sense for me to drive up and pick him up, which wasn’t an issue for either of us.  OK – it was for me – I had to get up at 06:00 to leave at 07:00 as I was picking my partner up at 08:00.

Good thing I did leave early – I managed to get lost.  Damn sat nav.  But, once I got to my partner’s house, it was quite easy to get back en-route – especially as he took a different route to the sat nav – one that avoided the town centres until we got to the Ashbourne road.

The trip was reasonably uneventful and we stopped in Buxton as the pair of us needed a break, and something to munch.  We went into The Tradesman's Entrance, and had a “late” breakfast.  It was really good, and quite reasonable, and I have to admit that it served as a good stopping point.

Then it was back on the road to Chatsworth House.  Now I’d seen the signs for Chatsworth numerous times when I’d been going to the Peak Shopping Village at Rowsley, but never thought to go there.

Well I am very glad that I did. It’s beautiful.  OK – the house is undergoing major restoration (should be finished November next year according to the website Chatsworth House - The Masterplan) but that didn’t detract from the beauty of the house.

The house and gardens are well worth visiting, and like an idiot, I didn’t take my camera with me.  Doh.  But, the website does have some beautiful photos on it, and certainly explains it better than I ever could - Chatsworth - The House.  Whilst we were inside the house, the heavens opened, and I have to admit that I was very glad that we had decided to do the inside tour first - I would have hated to be walking around the house squelching.

The gardens are also something very special, and again, I am kicking myself for not taking the camera.  The scenery was spectacular (OK – slightly spoilt by the scaffolding and the modern “art” that was in the gardens – but otherwise it was something special. 

There was one feature that my partner wanted to show me – and it was a gravity powered water “fountain” called “Revelation.  The detail was incredible, and the information that I managed to find (courtesy of a plaque by the sculpture / fountain) stated:

Moved by the weight of water and gravity from the lakes above, the inner sphere is filled with water causing it to descend.  This makes the outer leaves close over it as if protectively holding a secret.  A syphon then discharges the water. The lightened sphere rises. The leaves open out to reveal the preciously held secret before the cycle begins again'.


This YouTube video shows it far better than I can describe it - Revelation video


Main gate to the Stables at Chatsworth House
Then it was up to the Stables.  This area has been converted, meaning that it was a sort of shopping / eating area.  OK – the usual complaint (damned expensive on the food – the drinks weren’t too bad) but at least we managed to find somewhere to sit and plan the next part of the journey – to our overnight stay.

That wasn’t too bad – apart from the sat nav getting confused again.  (Easier to blame the sat nav than my not listening to the directions as usual!)

Dinner wasn’t bad, and it gave us a chance to have a break and plan the options for the following day.  Namely the Blue John Caverns.

Now the route to the cavern is spectacular – if you’re not driving.  And more to the point, if you go the bus / coach route, it’s a darn sight easier.  However, I decided to go the car route, and wished I hadn’t.

It was damned narrow in places, and I did most of the drive with the door mirrors folded in on the car.  But, once we’d parked we decided to have a quick coffee at the Blue John Café. The coffee was pretty good by my standards, and certainly reasonably priced.

Then it was the walk to the cavern.  It’s down quite a steep slope (but the scenery makes up for it) and the entrance doesn’t look anything special…  Now I did notice that there was a sign advising people that the cavern wasn’t suitable for pregnant women, people with cardiac problems or respiratory issues.

I know my partner didn’t spot that bit about the respiratory issues (or if he did, he didn’t mention it) and we then headed down into the cavern.  Now as he’s taller than me (OK – I know that’s not difficult when you’re just over 5ft tall) but it meant he had to duck down in places and I didn’t.

It was well illuminated, and in places you did get wet, as it’s a limestone cavern.  Again, I wish I had taken the camera with me, bit daft of me, but I suspect that the photos wouldn’t have shown very much – other than a lot of mist!

The fun started on the way back up.  It’s a deep cavern – like about 300 feet down type deep, and it’s a steep slope.  Not too bad on the way down, but the way up….  Well that was where I should have heeded the warning about the respiratory issues....

Yep – I had an asthma attack.  About 150 feet below the ground.  Not fun, I will admit, and my partner was worried about me.  My blue inhaler kicked in, and I will admit to thanking my lucky stars that it did so, as I really didn’t fancy the cave rescue option.

So I sat quietly for a bit, and then we headed back to the car.  My partner was a real sweetheart, and he went to the café to get a coffee whilst I sat in the car trying to plot a better route to the main road – preferably one that didn’t use the horrible route I’d driven in.

My partner offered to drive, as he was worried about the after effects of the asthma attack.  Now had it been the 207, I would have had no objections, as it was the older car – but the 208?  No chance in hell.  Call me a control freak, but there was no way I was relinquishing the control of my new car to anyone.

We found a route on the map showing a road heading towards Sparrowpit (or Sparrowspit as my partner insisted on calling it!), meaning that we avoided the really grotty road in, and it meant that we could start heading back towards Ashbourne and home.

Now as the pair of us hadn’t eaten, we decided to find a pub en-route home so we could have a break and something to eat. Now as my partner knew the area pretty well, I trusted his judgement on the place to eat.  And as we got closer to Ashbourne, there were fewer options, until we spotted the Bentley Brook Inn.

Once we’d had a very late lunch (OK – an early dinner) it was back on the road to my partner’s home, and then onto home for me.  I dropped him off, and he made me promise that I would let him know that I was home OK, as he admitted that he worried about me driving such a distance.

I got home OK, and admitted that I was wiped out. Needless to say my partner was less than impressed with me, and made sure that I knew how he felt – even to the extent that he told me that the next time we went away for the weekend, he was driving and that we would explore no more caverns...

If anything, this weekend has brought the pair of us closer, and made me realise just what a gem I have found.

Guess I should call this quits – I do need to get some sleep.

Back when I get the inclination…

Karen

I tell myself
Hey only fools rush in and only time will tell
If we stand the test of time
All I know
You've got to run to win and 
I'll be damned if
I'll get hung up on the line

Breaking up hurts - literally.

An odd title, I will admit, but it’s an apt description of the way that I am feeling (or not feeling) at this moment in time.

I’ve split with my partner, and it came about in probably one of the worst locations possible – as in 200+ miles from home and no way of getting back home other than travelling with my ex.

It happened Sunday night, and I admit that I should have seen this coming.  We’d been arguing on and off for about 3 months and I thought that I could get past this “little” hurdle and move our relationship on. That was a vain hope on my part.

The bank holiday weekend didn’t get off to a good start when I ended up working on the Friday morning (not my idea I hasten to add – I was asked to by my boss) and like an idiot, I agreed. So that started things off on a sour note for us.  I was slightly late leaving the office as I was trying to finish my work off (usual month end stuff) and my soon to be ex partner kept texting me to ask if I had left yet.

When I finally finished, I got to the car and called him as I was leaving the car park (I’ve got hands free Bluetooth on the car) and told him that I would be with him soon.  Thankfully, I’d already packed my bag and it was just a case of parking my car and getting on the road north.

We agreed to eat lunch en-route, as it was also a chance for us to talk on “neutral” territory and try to sort out the issued that were niggling the pair of us.  Should have guessed that wasn’t going to be something that would work – especially not the way I was feeling.

Needless to say it wasn’t a particularly pleasant journey for me, and I admit I was only too happy to get to the hotel so that I could get a little peace and quiet.  Nope – not happening.  He seemed determined to micro analyse our relationship.

Now I’m all in favour of an open and honest discussion on things – but as far as I was concerned, this was certainly not the right time or place to do such a thing.  Mainly because I was tired (I’d been stressed at work) and I was unable to walk away and cool my temper off as we were in a strange (OK strange to me) location.

So that started another row, and I admit that I was sorely tempted to sleep on the sofa in the room.  In hindsight, I wish I had.

Saturday came, and it started really well – and we met up with the family – the primary reason for going away.  They were really nice and friendly and made me feel really welcome.  But I have to admit that there was tension in the air – mainly between my ex and myself.  I felt that I was having to be something I am not – ladylike.

Now getting me to wear a dress (willingly) doesn’t happen very often.  In fact, I can count on the fingers of one hand the number of times I have done so.  And Saturday night was one of them.  Why I couldn’t wear trousers and a pretty top, I don’t know, but my ex was adamant that I was to wear a dress. 

God alone knows why – his sisters in law wore trousers, and only his mum wore a dress.  So that made me feel really uncomfortable.  I won’t say that the family wasn’t nice – they really were super and seemed to go out of their way to make me feel a part of the family.

Even though there were comments about my ex having “a southern bird” for a partner.  Now there is nothing I dislike more than being called a “bird” – and picking on me because I was born in the south of England was an added insult.  

I’ve spent longer out of the south than I ever did living there, but to them, I was still a soft southerner. Or at least I was until I pointed out that anything south of Sunderland was southern to them.

Sunday was a bit of an odd day – I met up with an old friend from my uni days, and we sat talking about what had happened since then.  It was a good natter and lunch – and even my ex was quite animated, and sharing the jokes with us.  I didn’t think anything of the way my friend was with me - he was his usual self – if it was female and reasonably pretty, he flirted -the way he always did.

That was something that irritated my ex – he accused me of flirting with my friend.  Ignoring the fact that my friend’s wife was sitting beside him at lunch, and he'd also been sharing the jokes with us.

Sunday night was when things really became interesting.  My ex decided he wanted to talk, and that was fine with me...

Until it became a lecture on the things that he had found fault with over the weekend.  That was the final straw, and I exploded, resulting in something that I haven’t done for years. I lashed out physically, and if he hadn't moved, I would have hit him. 

I hit the wall, and then stomped out of the room - not stopping to grab watch, phone or anything other than the room key.

When I had finally cooled down, I walked back via reception, and had the humiliating experience of having to ask if they could get me some extra bed linen so that I could sleep on the sofa bed.

So Monday’s trip back home was hell on earth.  I had a text from a good friend asking if I was OK, and that was when the floodgates opened via text.  I admitted that I was heading for home, and that my relationship was over.

I got home in one piece physically (but in pieces emotionally), and spend time with my family, and when I went to bed, I just couldn’t get warm. 

The heating was on in the house, my room was lovely and warm, and I had an extra blanket on over my duvet, but I was cold.  I guess it was a kind of emotional shock, and all I can say is that I owe my friend a debt of gratitude that I doubt I will ever be able to repay.


Karen


To run away from you
Was all that I could do.
To run away from you
Was all that I could do.

Eating Humble Pie

All the time I’ve been posting on my blog, I’ve always been dead set against the Kindle (and other e-readers) as I said that I’d never use one, and all the other excuses that I could think of. Well, now I’ve bitten the bullet, and bought one.

The reason for this change of heart? Simple. When I went on holiday, I couldn’t take all the books that I wanted to, due to their weight. I had a weight limit for checked hold baggage of 20Kg, and hand luggage was restricted to 5kg! Now this sounds a lot until you start weighing stuff, and at least two of the books I wanted to take were over 1kg. Each.

So, that mean I had to start looking at other options, and finally decided to join the e-book revolution. But which one to go for? I didn’t like the Sony (too damned expensive, and touch screen to boot), the others were brands that I’d not heard of (Binatone?), meaning that it came to a straight “fight” between the WH Smith Kobo, and Amazon’s Kindle. I eventually opted for the Kindle, the idea being that there is better customer support of it goes wrong (or I get confused) and more books available

It’s the Kindle 4 (yes – it’s the entry level one – my record with touch screen devices is not good!), and I’ve personalised it with a lovely skin courtesy of an American website – Decal Girl: it's called Fuorescence-Blue, and looks quite snazzy, if I do say so myself.



 I've also invested in a decent case - and no It’s not one of the "official" Amazon cases (they always look like something that came from the dashboard of a 1970s British Leyland car!) – it’s actually from a British company called Lente Designs:


The best bit is, it looks just like a Filofax, so I can leave it on my desk, and no-one bats an eyelid at it. So now I am eating humble pie. I adore my Kindle, and now won’t travel without it.

Time to call this quits – the siren call of the Kindle is at work again!

Back when I can put it down!

Karen

What I've felt, what I've known
Sick and tired, I stand alone
Could you be there?
'Cause I'm the one who waits for you
Or are you unforgiven, too?

Back from Madeira

Well, I’m back from my two week break in Madeira, and the return trip was… Interesting to say the least. It started out when the pick up from the hotel was late. We were supposed to be picked up for the transfer to the airport at 10:30 this morning.

Ok – not a problem – we were all packed & ready to roll, having done nearly all the packing yesterday afternoon (after I’d watched the British Grand Prix from Silverstone) and had settled the outstanding hotel bill last night.

So this morning, it was just a matter of putting the last minute bits & pieces into the one case, making sure that both cases were locked & strapped, and getting the flight bags packed, and the hideous flight socks on (the less said about these, the better!)

10:30 (the allotted pick up time for Mum & myself), and a mini bus duly arrives. Only it’s not big enough for everyone who is waiting (by my estimate there were about 16 – 18 people waiting for transport to the airport), and it turns out that it was for people who were travelling with another tour company (Mum & I had booked with Thomas Cook – more on that in a later post!) So, they clamber into the mini-bus, and it goes off to the airport, leaving the remaining travellers (Mum & myself included) are standing by the front entrance to the hotel wondering what the bloody blue blazes is going on.

There was no rep around (he was at the airport - again, more about the rep later) and the time is starting to move on… Well our transfer arrived – at 10:45. Not too good when you consider that we were supposed to be at the airport for 10:50 at the latest (it’s a 2hr check in) and we still had to clear security & passport control at the airport.

The aroma of knackered clutch was heavy in the air (it was truly nauseating to be honest!) and the best (or should that be worst) was yet to come… The driver seemed to think he was Madeira’s answer to Ferrari’s Fernando Alonso – without the talent or the charisma. It didn’t get off to a good start when the driver stalled the mini bus – I suspect he was in the wrong gear to try & pull away…

Now I know that under normal circumstances, I’m not easily scared by someone’s driving, but this was truly scary – even by my standards. Every time we came to a red light, or a pedestrian crossing, it was like it was a race to see how close he could get before he hit the brakes (or whatever poor sod was in front of him – be they pedestrian or another motorist), and instead of using the handbrake like anyone else would do when attempting a hill-start with a manual gearbox, he tried (and failed) to hold the vehicle on the clutch, meaning that we rolled back frequently, and the aroma of burning clutch got worse.

The there were the gear changes themselves. Now I know that my Peugeot can be a temperamental little b’stard when it wants to be, but the way this guy was slamming the gears made me apologise to my little blue fiend when I got back to it at Birmingham! The gear changes were really notchy – almost as if the driver wasn’t depressing the clutch fully. I suspect he was, but it really didn’t feel like he was to be honest!

If I recall correctly, the speed limit on the main highway is something like 80 kmph, but I know for sure that we were doing well over that – if it was on the road, we overtook it - thank god the road is a duel carriage way!)

It was almost as if this guy had been watching the British Grand Prix yesterday, and was determined to re-create the overtaking style in the mini-bus. We got to the airport in one piece (we got there by 11:10) and I have to admit, it was one of the few times that I gave thanks for arriving at the airport. The guy was a loony – and it didn’t help with him answering his ‘phone when we were on the main highway.

Check-in was fast and painless (but that could have been due to our arrival time at the airport – we were some of the last passengers to check in!) We had 17.5kg in both cases (the weight limit was 20kg) and all I can say is ‘thank God they didn’t weight the hand baggage at Funchal!’

Simply because I estimated my flight bag was about 8 – 9 kgs (and the limit is 5kgs!) Mind you, most of that was book… I’d bought a book called Dam Busters – the race to smash the dams 1943 by James Holland at Birmingham on the outbound flight (I also bought the Rowland White book – Storm Force) and resolved to have Dam Busters as my book for the return flight.

Once through security & passport control, it was like a rugby scrum as per normal. There were at least 4 flights going out about the same time (although the Easyjet flight to Gatwick had a ½ hour delay) and the Luton Thompson flight was leaving 10 mins before ours did. Mum & I boarded the bus that took us to the aircraft, and we were directed to the rear door.

Now this wouldn't have been a problem, had we been seated at the back – we were in the middle of the damned aircraft, and to make matters worse, some silly female had some kind of mini-suitcase as her flight bag, and was making a pig’s ear out of getting it into the overhead locker. 

This  meant that she was standing in the aisle, fussing around, and preventing people from getting to their seats. When we eventually got to our seats, we’d been given the window & middle seat again, and if you tried to transport cattle the way that we were seated on the plane (it was a B757-300, with the seats set at the minimum space allowance of 26 inches between the front of one seat and the front of the seat in front of you) then the RSPCA would rightly prosecute the transport company.

The ticket (it’s one of these stupid e-ticket things) said that in-flight meals would be provided… Yes, they were, if you didn’t mind paying £6.00 for a tiny lasagne that looked revolting, and didn’t smell too appetising either! Thank god I’d had a decent breakfast before we’d left the hotel… If I’m honest, the less said about the flight, the better.

As I’d been smart, and plugged in my headphones (I was listening to the S&M album by Metallica & the San Francisco Symphony Orchestra – hence the S&M title!) I didn’t hear the wailing of some kid on the flight – Mum said it howled nearly all the flight.

We landed, and got to the gate... It was gate 54 at Birmingham. I know damned well that the couldn’t have gotten us further away from Border Security & baggage reclaim if they’d tried – at least not at a gate with an air bridge!

Once through Border Security, we headed to baggage reclaim which was surprisingly fast, and then had to run the gauntlet of more stinking duty free. Some bright spark has had the idea to put a smallish duty-free area on the route from the baggage reclaim & customs area to the arrivals area, meaning that it's yet another chance to fleece knackered passengers before they leave the airport.

When I say stinking, I mean it. The combined odour of the various perfumes that had been sprayed into the air was enough to give anyone a bad head, and it sure as hell did that to me, so I was only too glad to toddle up to the bus stop for the long stay 1 car park where I had left the little blue fiend two weeks ago. Mum & I got to the bus stop just as the bus arrived (talk about perfect timing) and then got off at the allotted stop.

Mum being her normal organised self had made a note of the bus stop number and car park row I’d parked on. So, it was just a case of getting off the bus, and getting the car loaded. Now I’ve had problems with the gearbox on my little fiend, and as I was loading the cases into the boot, I made sure that the engine was running, meaning that the little fiend was getting some heat into the engine, and also into the gearbox, with the idea being that it would stop causing the gearbox to throw it's usual hissy fit...

It seemed to work ok, and the little monster burbled it’s way home, and is now back in it’s allotted parking space.

As for me? I’m so chilled out, I’m horizontal, but that’s no thanks to the transfer today. That’s all down to the island of Madeira, and the wonderful (and very helpful) staff at the Porto Santa Maria, who made Mum & myself feel like old friends.

Ah well, guess I should call this quits – my eyeballs feel like they are on fire, and I really want to get some rest. Back tomorrow with a full report (and photos) of my holiday on the island.

Karen
Now some things you hold on to - and some you just let go
Seems like the ones that you can't have
Are the ones that you want most

Staycation? I don't think so...

The latest idea to be pushed by the UK tourist boards for the Olympics & the Queen's Diamond Jubilee is the so-called "staycation". Ok - not a problem there, as it does help the UK economy. But what it doesn't take into account is the weather. And the cost of the so-called attractions.

Now I'm all in favour of the staycation, and regularly escape to various locations in the UK, but what does annoy me is when I hear some over-paid spokesperson saying that the cost doesn’t matter. Ok – maybe it doesn’t to him, but I have been looking to go to the Ironbridge Gorge museums  - or more particularly, the Jackfield Tile museum and the Coalport China Museum.

But what gets me is the fact that each of these two museums charge for the exhibits (£7.60 for the Coalport China Museum & the Jackfield Tile museum for me) or you have the option to pay £22.50 for a ticket that does all the museums. Ok – I don’t mind that as the ticket does last a year, but it’s a bloody long way and is very much weather dependant.

Now to me, £7.60 for 1 – 2 hours is ok value, but you still have to factor in the travelling, and at this time, the cost of the petrol. So, to do the two museums that I would like to do, would cost about £50 just for me. Imagine trying to do that sort of trip with two or more kids, and you start getting silly money. Add into this equation, the great British weather (as I type this, it’s raining!) and you get the reason why so many people (me included) say “Sod the UK for my main holiday!"

Ah well, time to call it quits - I'm due back to my desk in a couple of minutes...

Back when I get the chance.

Karen

What I've felt, what I've known
Sick and tired, I stand alone
Could you be there?
'Cause I'm the one who waits for you
Or are you unforgiven, too?



Another Bank Holiday, and more travelling

Well, it’s the end of anther bank holiday – this time it was a four day run, as it was the Royal Wedding on the Friday, and the traditional May Day bank holiday today.

Me being me, didn’t spend the bank holiday at home. Instead, I travelled down to see my best friend and his family, and made the usual trip to Auto Italia at Brooklands.

Now the trip on Friday started out quite well, and I was making my leisurely way down the A5, and was starting to wonder if the weather was going to improve, as it was misty, murky, and generally overcast – and didn’t improve the further south I went!

For once, I didn’t manage to get lost, and arrived at my friend’s house, in time to see the Royal Wedding. Bugger. I was planning on avoiding it, but there was no way I could politely get out of it… but in a way, it wasn’t as bad as thought it would be, as it gave me a chance to sit and relax…

My friend arrived, and joined in the commentary with not so subtle comments about the camera angles from the BBC coverage, not to mention the dust that was very apparent of the tops of the wooden decorations on the choir area… Ah – the magic of television!

The rest of the day went quietly, with jokes being told, and plans for the following day being sorted – including lunch (we were taking a cool bag to Brooklands – past experience had taught the pair of us to take food & drink with us!)

The evening, after dinner, we sat watching the documentary Mega Factories (it had been on the National Geographic channel.) This time, it was on the Jack Daniels factory. Now, as it happens, I was given a bottle of Gentleman Jack. Now I am the first one to admit that I am not a great Bourbon fan… In fact, I normally avoid the stuff like the plague – but only because I had no inclination to try it…

However, having seen the program on the Jack Daniels factory, I found myself thinking about this bottle, and decided that it best thing to do would be to take the bottle with me, and crack it open with someone I could share a laugh and a drink with…

So, me being me, cracked the bottle open and shared it with my friend, who was a real sweetie, and showed me the difference between Gentleman Jack and the more “common” (for want of a better term – no offence intended!) Old No. 7. I have to admit that Gentleman Jack is a heck of a lot smoother, sweeter and smokier tasting…

However, there was a sting in the tail for me. I had the worst night’s sleep I have had for ages – and I would swear blind that it was the JD that did me in. So, it taught me one thing – don’t drink the stuff before I go to bed!

The following morning, I was squeaking like I was on helium again. No – not a chest infection this time – it was my hay fever that had gotten to my vocal cords. Aside from giving me nightmares, the JD had helped me to forget to take my Q-var inhaler (the brown preventer), so my immune system decided to go into overdrive…

Needless to say this caused much hilarity for my friend, but I took the ribbing good naturedly, as I knew that it wasn’t meant maliciously…

Brooklands itself has really changed since the last time I was down there – and in some ways, I’m sorry to say that it is to the detriment of the Auto Italia show. The cars were quite spectacular as normal (including the Ferrari Enzo) but there were not the normal range of cars… It seemed that the Lamborghini contingent was an awful lot smaller than normal, and that the Ferrari 430 Scuderia was rather too common for my liking, and there were no Pagani Zondas or Bugattis of any flavour – let alone the Veyron.

The test hill was only run the once, but that was well worth it, as some of the cars nearly didn’t make it up (mainly the small Fiats – things like the Cinquecento) but there were a couple of cars that were rather special going up the hill – including the Lamborghini & Ferrari safety cars…

After we’d watched the cars blasting (or not blasting) their merry way up the test hill, we had a walk around some of the cars that were organised into their respective car clubs… The one that did make me smile was a green Fiat campervan with a sticker on the rear screen that read:

Scrap that refuses to die

It really made me smile, and reminded me of the sticker that I’d had on my Toyota Yaris:

Not available from Toys ‘R’ Us

We finally left Brooklands at 16:50 (ish) and once we were on the grassy area where the car was parked, I freely admit to taking my shoes off, so that I could walk barefoot. Not because my feet hurt – far from it – they were too damned hot in my shoes!

We stopped off at the Marquis of Granby pub on the way home (no idea whereabouts – that’s one of the problems with not being local area) and had a drink in the gardens – well away from the smokers.

My friend seemed to be doing his best to cheer me up, as I have to admit that I was feeling somewhat flat…

Can you help me remember how to smile?
Make it somehow all seem worthwhile
How on earth did I get so jaded?
Life's mystery seems so faded


Runaway Train – Soul Asylum


I explained what was happening (or not happening) with the cardio appointment, and I have to admit that I was really quite scared, because I thought that he would go loopy because I’d not mentioned it to him…

Bought a ticket for a runaway train
Like a madman laughin' at the rain
Little out of touch, little insane
Just easier than dealing with the pain


Runaway Train – Soul Asylum


Thankfully, I will admit to severely underestimating him. He was a real angel, and told me that he would be there for me, and all I had to do was pick the ‘phone up to him, and he would move heaven and earth to get to me. I don’t know what I would do without his friendship, and it’s really reassuring to know that there is someone out there who is willing to provide that sort of support to me.

Now that the world isn't ending
It's love that I'm sending to you
Isn't the love of a hero
And that's why I fear it won't do


Hero – Chad Koeger


We headed for home, but the trouble was, I was too damned tired to do the chilli justice, and freely admit to sparking out cold on the sofa (and snoring according to my friend!)

Sunday was a more relaxed day, and we went to the Aces High gallery in Wendover, in the morning. That place is becoming lethal to me, as I bought another print – this one of the Vulcan...




The afternoon was spent dribbling over some beautiful classic cars (even if I did think that a couple of the cars should have been excluded – one of them being a Jaguar XJS – the only thing that could have been called was scrap!)

Now onto today. I knew that I was heading for home, and I would be going to see my god-daughter, Amber. I also knew that Amber was less than impressed with me, because I’d been to Auto Italia, and not taken her (the kid is Tifosi – she almost bleeds scarlet and gold!). I arrived at her home, and she was standing in the front door, with a face like a major thunderstorm, and I knew that I was in real trouble with her…

Or at least I was until I burst into tears. It wasn’t intentional – far from it. it was a combination of stress over her reaction, and me being worried about my forthcoming hospital stay. Ok – I don’t know the date of it just yet, but it was (and still is) preying on my mind.

Amber was such a sweetie – she ran over to me, and flung her arms around me, and kept wiping the tears away with her handkerchief, telling me that I was going to be ok – she would thump anyone who hurt me! I mean, what can you say when your goddaughter says that to you?

I walk this empty street
On the boulevard of broken dreams
Where the city sleeps
And I'm the only one and I walk alone

My shadow’s the only one that walks beside me
My shallow heart’s the only thing that's beating
Sometimes I wish someone out there will find me
Till then I walk alone!

Boulevard of Broken Dreams – Green Day


So, as I type this, I am emotionally drained, and far form ready to go into the playpen tomorrow, but I guess that I had better call this quits, so that I can try and get some sleep tonight.

Back when I get the chance.


Karen

Now some things you hold on to - and some you just let go
Seems like the ones that you can't have
Are the ones that you want most

It’s “Snow” Joke

The British seem incapable of coping with winter weather. Now I am not saying that I enjoy this sort of weather - far from it, it’s just the mere fact that the South East of the country gets hit, and it appears to the media that the world is ending.

Parts of the UK are badly hit – I won’t dispute that, but what bugs the living daylights out of me, is the fact that the media has gone into a flat panic demanding to know why the highways agency, the airports and the railways cannot cope with the snow, and are demanding to know why Scandinavian countries cope.

Simple answer to that – they know almost to the week when they will be getting snow and it’s an annual occurrence, so they have all the equipment that they require to deal with this type of weather.

The UK however, has only really had this type of weather the past couple of years, as the weather in the winter tends to run to mild and snow free. So, if the local authorities and the highways agency would be pilloried by the media for wasting money on equipment that is hardly used. So they’re damned by the media which ever way they decide to jump.

Aside from that, I am also getting fed up with the attitude of fellow shoppers – including the stroppy old bat in Waterstones the other day. She was quite rude to the poor lad who was serving her, and I really couldn’t see any reason for her being grumpy – other than the fact that she was an old trout.

Add into that, the mere fact that it’s getting to the stage where you need full riot protection gear to go anywhere near a shopping centre and you get one unhappy person.

And yes – I am the sort that says “Bah Humbug!” as I am getting fed up with Christmas being rammed down my throat – starting in bloody September. I am not against Christmas – far from it. It’s just that the push towards Christmas seems to start earlier and earlier every damned year.

Ah well, time to call this quits – I’m starting to fall asleep in front of my pc, and I have to be in the playpen tomorrow.

Back when I get the chance,

Karen

Now some things you hold on to - and some you just let go
Seems like the ones that you can't have
Are the ones that you want most

Ash Chaos

This has been quite an interesting story for me – mainly because it keeps the blasted election off the news! But in truth, it’s mainly because a closure like this is almost unprecedented – even 9/11 didn’t cause this much chaos.

People keep wondering why NATS (the air traffic control people here in the UK) have taken such dramatic action. Simple. It’s for safety reasons, as aircraft cannot detect ash in the flight path. A good example is the BA flight that was caught in such an event back in 1982.

I do recall this incident, but I feel that the BBC has done a much better job of explaining what happened than I could ever do…

*********************************

When volcanic ash stopped a Jumbo at 37,000ft


A plume of volcanic ash from Iceland has led to flights across the UK being grounded. The events around one British Airways flight in 1982 reveal the potential dangers of this sort of dust.

When all four engines on the Boeing 747 being flown by Captain Eric Moody shut down at 37,000ft, he hadn't a clue why.

It wasn't until later, when Capt Moody, his crew and the 247 passengers on board the flight, were safely back on the ground, that he discovered the cause of the narrowly averted catastrophe - volcanic ash.

Airports are being closed across the UK after dust which spewed from a volcano in Iceland, began drifting southwards. The experience of Capt Moody, almost 30 years ago, shows the potential danger clouds of volcanic ash present to modern jet aircraft.

There had been no hint of trouble when flight BA 009 took off from Kuala Lumpur in Malaysia on the evening of 24 June, 1982.

Heading for Perth, Australia, the weather forecast for the five-hour journey was good and the crew were anticipating an uneventful flight.

The first sign of trouble came as the plane, which had hit cruising height, headed past Java over the south-eastern Indian Ocean.

Capt Moody, who had left the cockpit for a stroll, was summoned back to the flight deck. As he climbed the stairs of the Jumbo he noticed puffs of "smoke" billowing from the vents in the floor and detected an acrid smell.

When he opened the door to the cockpit he saw the windscreen ablaze with a St Elmo's fire - a discharge of static electricity.

But that alone wasn't enough to cause alarm, Capt Moody says, recalling the events when he spoke to BBC's Good Morning Scotland on Thursday.





That's not unusual in high whispy cloud. But it developed into something more than we'd ever seen before."

Looking out the side windows of the cockpit, the crew noticed the front of the engines were glowing as if lit inside.

Then Capt Moody's flight engineer detailed the impact the dust was having on the aircraft itself.

"Engine failure number four... engine failure number two," he said.
"Three's gone… They've all gone."

Within a few moments, a passenger jet powered by four Rolls Royce engines had become a glider.

Needing time to calmly consider his options, Capt Moody used autopilot to put the plane into a gentle descent, and instructed his first officer to issue a mayday call.

While the crew on the flight deck were frantically trying to figure out the cause of this freak failure, many passengers were largely unaware that anything was wrong.

But eventually, when the passenger oxygen masks dropped as the plane steepened its descent, the news had to be announced.

"Good evening ladies and gentlemen. This is your captain speaking. We have a small problem. All four engines have stopped. We are all doing our damnedest to get them going again. I trust you are not in too much distress."

Eventually, after quarter of an hour without any power, the engines were brought back to life. Ash had clogged the engines, which only restarted when enough of the molten ash solidified and broke off.

"We glided from 37,000ft to 12,000ft before we got [the engines] going again," recalls Cpt Moody.

The plane headed back to Jakarta where it landed safely, though even then one of the engines had failed again.

It was two days before investigators confirmed that volcanic ash had been responsible for the near disaster. The plane had flown into a cloud of dust spewed out by an eruption of Mount Galunggung, 110 miles south east of Jakarta.

A close examination of the plane revealed the damage a plume of these tiny particles can do to an engine - the tips of the turbine blades had been ground away. The findings were eventually incorporated into a report on the dangers of volcanic ash to aircraft.

Reflecting on the chilling events of that flight 28 years later, Capt Moody, who lives in Camberley in Surrey, shows the sort of understatement characteristic of those in his profession.

"It was, yeah, a little bit frightening."

********************

So, this is the reason why the aircraft have been prevented from flying. Yes, it’s very inconvenient, but I personally would prefer to put up with the inconvenience rather than risking having one or more engines fail whilst I am 37,000 feet thank you very much.

(You can read more about the Jakarta incident on Cpt Moody’s own website -Eric Moody - but please note that the document is in .PDF file format)

Ah well, guess I should call this quits – I'm supposed to be working, not blogging…

Back later (or when I get fed up with work again!)


Karen

Now some things you hold on to - and some you just let go
Seems like the ones that you can't have
Are the ones that you want most

Back from Chester

Well, I’m back home, and as I type this, I am struggling to keep my eyes open. Why? Because I drove back from Chester this afternoon, (ok, it’s only 105 miles, but it seems a heck of a lot further!) and I didn’t sleep very well last night. Ok – Friday night I crashed out – but that was because I’d been on the go since 06:00 Friday morning, and I’d spent about four hours walking around Cheshire Oaks Shopping Outlet.

Friday wasn’t too bad – I expected to get drenched (at least that was the weather forecast) and so Mum and I spent the time dodging into various stores. Our first proper stop was the Marks &Spencer outlet where I managed to get some bits and pieces, and discovered the reason why I’d not seen the stock in the “regular” M&S stores. It turns out that they (M&S) have some stock specially made for the outlet stores, meaning that if you want a particular item in a certain pattern / colour, then you have to travel to one of these dratted outlet stores, which is a bit of a pain, as the nearest shop that I know of is in Mansfield.

Aside from that, Cheshire Oaks was quite good for me (yes – I visited the Cadbury’s Shop again) and also managed to get a couple of bits from La Senza, for less than the price of one item. But the real achievement for me was being able to get some Revlon eye shadow for £3.00. Now I know people will be thinking that this must have been an old colour, hence the reason for it being so cheap. Well, as this shop was a Revlon group outlet, it meant that it was current stock. So I was more than happy to get that, especially as it is £7.99 on the high street.

Then it was to our overnight stopping point – the Premier Inn attached to the Twirl of Hay (think it’s listed as Chester south-east). I know I was not impressed with this restaurant/ bar the last time I visited Chester, but this time, things seemed to be a lot better. The menu seemed slightly better and I don’t know if it was my imagination, but the seating seemed more spacious. But this could have been due to the change of table shape – round instead of square, meaning that there was more space for diners.

After dinner, it was a case of heading back to the room (which was comfortable and clean – what I’ve come to expect from the Premier Inns whenever I’ve stayed at them) and sorting out the plans for the following day.

As per normal, Mum and I went to breakfast at 08:00, with the idea being that we would get the bits from the room that we wanted (things like my camera and my car keys) after breakfast. Breakfast itself was good – the staff couldn’t do enough to help Mum and myself. However, the family from Hell shattered our peace. Ok – let me be more specific. The mother from Hell.

They weren’t sitting on the table next to us originally, but the selfish cow decided to move them to the table next to us, and then proceeded to spend the next 30 + minutes berating her youngest child. I felt sorry for the poor little mite – she (the mother) was nagging her to eat the apple from the fruit salad. I could fully sympathise with the child – the apple was tasteless, and sour – and if I thought that, then God alone knows what that poor kid thought. Then she started berating the child for not drinking her milk – the child wanted to drink water. Ok – I can understand if the kid had been demanding Coca-Cola, but I couldn’t see what the problem was, as the kid had a bowl of cereal with milk already.

Needless to say, Mum and I didn’t linger over breakfast – more because we had plans to get into Chester than the family on the table next to us (but they didn’t really help). Once we’d got the bits from our room (ok – make that once I’d got the bits from our room – I wanted my camera and other bits that went with it) we then headed for the Park & Ride (think it’s the Broughton one).

We got into Chester, and I started taking photographs. The first one was the clock on the city wall (think it’s East gate) as I’ve always been fascinated by this imposing clock (and it’s one of the things that really sticks in my mind about Chester)



It was just a case of wandering around, and seeing what was what. I will say one thing about Chester – it’s not somewhere that I would make a specific shopping trip, as there are very few chain stores – but that’s not something that I am too unhappy about, as it makes for a more interesting trip. Again, I went to the Royal Perfumery, and admittedly I didn’t find the perfume that I was looking for this time (it’s the “new” Balmain perfume – Ambergris (according to the very helpful young lady in the store, it was launched in 2008.)

We then had a walk around and as it was getting towards lunch time, we decided to find somewhere for lunch. Again, we found a really good pub – the Victoria, which is located on Watergate Row North.

Apparently, this is the oldest pub in Chester (I only know this because I bought a postcard showing the historic pubs in Chester – it’s listed as the Chester heritage pub crawl – but apparently most of the pubs on this postcard are now closed). Despite this, the food was really good, as was the service and Mum and I really enjoyed the peace and quiet – not to mention the sit down.

After lunch, we started exploring again, and we came across a fascinating shop – the Cartoon Gallery, which is located on Watergate Row South (see The Cartoon Gallery Ltd) There were several prints that had me giggling, and both Mum and I agreed that we wouldn’t be able to keep a straight face if we worked there.


After that, we headed towards the Cathedral (I’d been promising myself that I would go this time, hence the reason for the camera being with me). Mum didn’t fancy walking around with me, and we agreed that I would meet her at a coffee shop nearby, and off I went.


The Cathedral charges an admission of £5.00, this is to help maintain the building, as well as provide funds for the heating and lighting of the building. As I walked in, I heard people complaining about this charge, and to be honest, I couldn’t see the issue with it, as Coventry Cathedral does the same thing.

The first thing that I noticed as I entered the Cathedral, was the stained glass panels on the left hand side.




Then, going through the doors into the main body of the Cathedral, there were the most amazing mosaic panels, depicting figures from the Old Testament.




The rest of the Cathederal was something special, and I think that the best thing I can do is let the photographs do the talking (I’ll try to put some details where I can)



This picture was painted on caterpiller silk!








After I’d been around the Cathederal, I went to join Mum, and head back to the park and ride bus stop. Or at least that was the plan… I’d been after a couple of bits in my favourite store (Lush) and as it was en-route, I said that I would stop in there to get the bits that I wanted.

The staff were real stars, and I managed to get everything that I’d wanted, (including the new serum bar, Saving Face) and met several people that I’d been chatting to on the Lush Forum, and even found out some information on why one of my favourite products was being discontinued.

It was then time to get the park and ride bus back. This was like a rugby scrum (without the discipline) but me being a very cheeky brat managed to get a seat for Mum, as she was really suffering with her back (think she managed to sleep awkwardly on Friday night), so that meant that she was able to sit down for the short trip back to the park and ride.

We got back to the car, and as today is Easter Sunday, I thought it was advisable to refuel the car, as I wasn’t sure if the petrol station at Sainsbury’s was going to be open today (as it turned out, it was, but it would have been just my luck for it to have been closed).

I have to admit, I was really pleased, as the car took just under 15 litres of petrol, meaning that I’d got a range on the fuel tank of over 440miles! Not bad for a 1.6 120bph automatic…

Saturday night wasn’t too bad, apart from the inconsiderate idiots in the Premier Inn (but that was nothing that the staff could assist with – short of banging on doors at 08:00 this morning.)

There was one plus side though this morning – the family from hell were no-where near us, and the lad who served us was horrified as apparently, kids are not allowed in the area where Mum and I had chosen to sit.

After breakfast, we headed back to the room, and as the Malaysian Grand Prix started at 09:00, I was able to watch the race from start to finish, and then get the little bit of packing done and we were able to get on the road back home.

As it is Easter Sunday, we weren’t sure if there would be anything open en-route, due to the Sunday trading laws. However, we were lucky as the antiques centre near Bridgemere Garden World was open (we think that they got around the rules because it was individuals trading under one roof, so it wasn’t one large shop (or barn) that was being used).

It was really busy, and both Mum and I were of the opinion that people were so used to being able to go shopping on a Sunday, that they were desperate for something to do, hence the reason why there were so many people there.

Ah well, I guess I should call this quits – I’ve got stuff to do, including sorting the car out (I’m out of screen wash!)

Back when I get the chance…


Karen

Now some things you hold on to - and some you just let go
Seems like the ones that you can't have
Are the ones that you want most