Author: mickandlieselsantics

Liesel and her Mom enjoy walking around the Alaska Botanical Garden in Anchorage. And it is a very pleasant place to pass the time on a nice day. Some of the venue is not accessible at the moment though due to intruders.

They enjoyed a good couple of days in a small place called Hope too, with Phil and Una. (By the way, many years ago, walking in the countryside near Hope was the first time I saw actual physical evidence that bears do do that sort of thing in the woods.)

On the drive south from Anchorage, they saw beluga whales cavorting in the inlet, the Turnagain Arm of the Cook Inlet.

And after going for a hike in Hope, what else can you do but enjoy the wonderful harvest of local raspberries.

Fresh from the bush, unprocessed, juicy and delicious.

Keiran turned nine months old, and he is as cute as ever.

I achieved a hat trick of new payment cards this year! A few weeks ago, I had to replace my bank’s debit card when a machine ate it. I was then encouraged to replace a credit card when a fraud attempt was detected. And I just received a replacement for a card when a supposed subscription renewal was rejected, a subscription I have no memory of, so was probably fake. I have no more cards so hopefully that will be the end of that sort of thing. I now have the inconvenience of having to update all my genuine payees.

I haven’t seen them swim for a while, so it was good to see William and Martha back in the water, so relaxed and so proficient.

In my studio, I prepared a radio show for the following Sunday, and I’m pleased to say some members of the family are involved. Listen to Purple and Pink right here on Mixcoud.

Edinburgh, here I come!

Manchester Piccadilly Station is weird. I think that every time I go. I found my platform eventually and while my ticket had me booked on coach B, the platform only gave me boarding points 1 and 2. From recent experience, I wanted to find my reserved seat before someone else plonked themselves in it. And I was successful. In fact, I had the two seats to myself the whole way into Edinburgh.

When the announcement came that we were stopping at Oxenhope, I thought oh no, I’m on the wrong train, I shouldn’t be in Yorkshire. After a brief panic, I checked on Google Maps and realised that actually, we were approaching Oxenholme in the Lake District.

I admired the scenery in between reading my book and listening to a podcast. I was hoping to notice when the train crossed the border, but I missed it. I knew we were in Scotland when we passed by Ecclefechan, a place name that amused my daughter Helen many years ago. Hooray! And of course, when we stopped at Lockerbie, I couldn’t help but think about the terrorist attack in 1988.

We arrived at Haymarket station just a few minutes late, and it was nice to see the signs in English and in Scottish Gaelic: Margadh an Fheòir.

My accommodation was a less than 10 minute walk from the station. I was lucky to be able to find a place in the city during this busy Festival period. And it’s a good place, clean and tidy. I met the host, Tu, who showed me around. I was a bit worried when I noticed they supply earplugs, but it was quiet overnight, quieter than being at home, despite the main road and the railway line close by.

I got to know the local buses fairly well over the next few days. Sadly, Scotland buses don’t accept my English Senior Bus Pass. The first task was to find somewhere to eat. Holy Cow! No, that’s the name of the vegetarian place I found, after a bus ride and a bit of a walk. My Vietnamese Tofu muu burger was really nice, although it had to be dismantled it to eat it in an elegant manner!

Edinburgh is a great city for wandering around and sightseeing, of course. I was taken by the relatively new W Hotel with the unique spiraling bronze-coloured steel lattice wrapped around its rounded facade.

From St James’s Square, I wandered over to Princes Street Gardens and paid a visit to Sarah’s flower bed, which is still flourishing.

As I walked through the gardens, I wasn’t assaulted by midges as you’d expect. No. What I was continuously brushing off my arms were aphids, greenfly.

I enjoyed listening to a singer performing songs by Neil Diamond amongst others. Sadly, I couldn’t find out her name.

The Mound pop-up bar supplies food and drink throughout the festivals, but having just eaten, I didn’t partake this evening. After a short bus ride back, I slept very well.

Downstairs to the kitchen for a quick breakfast, that being the second b in b&b, after all. Then a different bus, this time to somewhere close to the Royal Mile. I’d booked tickets for a few different events at the Edinburgh Fringe and the first was at 12.30 today. I couldn’t believe how many people were wearing quite thick coats. Yes, it was a lot cooler here than in Manchester, but I didn’t think it was cold enough for more layers. Of course, many of the peoiple out on the streets were performrs at the Fringe dishing out their flyers. One guy, with bare feet, offered to buy my shoes. I declined and he admired my hat instead

The coffee at Mòr Bakehouse was so good, I had to have a second cup. I’d forgotten that the real name of the Royal Mile, at least in part, is High Street. Another good thing about this little coffee shop is that you can use the wifi from the neighbouring Starbucks. Don’t tell anybody.

I was pleased to see my first piper on this trip. Scotland the Brave is always popular with us visitors. There were odd groups of people here and there watching the various street entertainers. The bloke who allegedly dislocated his shoulder blade in order to be able to force his whole body through a tennis racket was the weirdest, maybe.

At least he took the strings out first. I did laugh at the sight of Adam Smith with his new headgear though.

Another guy was playing the piano out in the open air and he had attracted a very large crowd. I refused many but accepted some flyers, including one from a group from Manchester University: The Manchester Revue Saves the World! I didn’t see their show but I hope they did well in front of full audiences.

A pile of Fringe catalogues was available, but since each was the size of the old Argos catalogues, I didn’t feel the need to grab one and lug it around all day. I wondered who the celebrated person was on top of the column. I was so disappointed when I found out.

This Monument is 150 feet tall, and it honours the controversial Scottish statesman Henry Dundas, 1st Viscount Melville.

Not a very nice man. So far, at least, he hasn’t been thrown into the water.

I joined the queue for Midsummer! behind an American guy whose son was in the show. It’s a modern take on A Midsummer Night’s Dream imagined, performed, designed and built by the extraordinary students of the Carnegie Mellon University School of Drama, at the beginning of their artistic journeys. The cast of 10 played three or four roles each, and with a bit of modern music thrown in, it was great fun. It was a very intimate space too, with the actors making use of the aisles between the blocks of seats, as if the circular stage wasn’t big enough. You could reach out and touch the performers. Being in the third row, I didn’t, in case I got told off. I did get told off, though, for taking 0a picture during the curtain call.

The real drama came before the show, though. I had a good place in the queue when the police decided to evacuate the whole square. Apparently, someone had left an empty box unattended.

While the performance was on, it began to rain. I heard people complain about the weather, about there being too much to see, about there being too many people. I can see why Edinburgers might be a wee bit peeved during the Festival season.

It’s a lovely city to wander around, there’s always something to look at. On my stroll to George Square, I stumbled across a wonderful little coffee shop. Only it’s more than that. Islander UK Marshall Street Workshop and Café also offers classes in customising your own bag. In a hands-on, 60-minute session, you have the chance to personalise your own bag! Choose the base colour of your bag, select your favourite Harris Tweed cloth lid and add decorative straps to complete your design. The ladies in today seemed to be having a fun time.

I was at George Square to see Gyles Brandreth and Harriet Haine in Up Memory Lane! This very funny show, which included some song and dance, was about people’s memories. There were nods to their Rosebud podcast as well.

Here’s Harriet reciting a poem about Christopher Robin while holding Dame Judi Dench’s childhood teddy bear. And Gyles started his campaign to ban the following useless words: ‘See it, say it, sorted!’ By the end of the performance, the whole audience was yelling ‘Up yours!’ to that ridiculous saying. I’m still waiting for a call back about something I reported a few months ago, having failed to speak to an actual person.

As invited, I wanted to chat with Gyles and Harriet afterwards, but it was raining torrentially outside, people were rushing hither and thither trying to stay dry, and I ended up in the wrong queue. So I missed the stars of my show and was very nearly sucked into whatever the next performance in this theatre was!

When Liesel and I last visited Edinburgh for the Fringe, there were lots of statues of Oor Wullie all over the city. I was happy to find this skeleton-painted one today, sitting on his traditional bucket outside St Cuthbert’s Church.

One of the places we always try to visit in Edinburgh is Hendersons. It has changed location since the pandemic and is now a fully-fledged restaurant. They provided my delicious dinner tonight!

I haven’t seen my old mate Sue for over thirty years: can that be right? We worked at Kingston University together. Many years ago she moved to Scotland, and I thought I’d take this opportunity to go and pester her.

When booking my train tickets for this sidetrip, the app asked me 101 questions about the seat I’d like to reserve: window or aisle, facing backwards or forwards, quiet carriage, with or without a table, blue or green moquette? Obviously too hard for the system, because when I later looked at my ticket for the seat number, in very small print it said, ‘Oh sod it, just sit in in any unreserved seat.’ 

The train ride from Edinburgh to Kirkcaldy was very picturesque: of course it was, this is Scotland.

From Kirkcaldy, I’d planned to take the bus to East Wemyss. I don’t know how I failed here, but in the end I took a taxi. The driver had been doing the job for 5 weeks, but it wasn’t as much of a mystery tour as I might have been.

I met Sue at the Wemyss Caves Pictish Carvings Visitor Centre and Museum where I had a very welcome cup of tea.

The nearby Michael Colliery was closed down in 1967 after a major disaster. But the main reason for my visit today, other than a long-overdue reunion, was to visit the Wemyss caves. Sue was an excellent guide, she knows her stuff.

The Wemyss Caves are a nationally important heritage site under threat from coastal erosion, structural instability and vandalism. They are a scheduled ancient monument.

The site contains the largest collection of Pictish inscribed symbols in one place, which are probably some of the first ever made. Other carvings include early Christian crosses and a boat over 1,000 years old.

Some of the caves now have large, strong metal gates: it’s a shame they’re necessary but one incident of a car being driven inside and set fire to is one too many.

It’s hard to interpret some of the carvings, the Picts didn’t leave a guide book or a Rosetta Stone, so we can only guess. Some might be more obvious such as this one in Court Cave.

I was half expecting to have bats fluttering around my head, but we didn’t see any, just some potential bat food having a rest.

Sue and I were joined by a small group of others at various points: they were lucky since usually the tours only take place on a Sunday.

The double-disc emblem is quite common, but nobody knows what it really means. It has however been replicated in the design of one of the gates, a great way to enhance an otherwise purely functional barrier.

These square holes, what are they for? Human skulls fit nicely, but this could just as easily be a dovecote. A couple of trenches have been dug here over the years to see how deep the bedrock is and to look for any artefacts.

From the safety of the cave, you can look out over a rough, stormy sea. Today though, it was beautifully calm.

Further along the path on the way to Jonathan’s Cave (which isn’t really Jonathan’s Cave!), you reach MacDuff Castle. It’s a few hundred years old and I think it’s fair to say, it hasn’t really been well looked after recently. It’s in a state of disrepair and signs warn you not to get too close. This one is only standing because when a second tower was demolished in 1967, they used up all the explosive, so none left for this one.

A late Bronze Age woman’s skeleton was found a few years ago on the nearby beach. Let’s hope that they can raise the funds to have more research carried out on her remains.

After a very nice ice cream, thank you, Sue, I took the bus back to Kirkcaldy and the train back to Haymarket. What a fascinating trip.

Near my b&b, I found a really good pizza place, Pizza Geeks. Great, freshly made pizza and a Scottish Strawberry soda, which I’ve never had before. Geeks? Yes, there were allusions to Doctor Who, Star Trek, Star Wars and more on the menu and on the walls.

And from the b&b I could hear a football game being played at the nearby Tynecastle Stadium, between Hearts and Rapid Vienna. No idea what the final score was.

It was very nearly dark when I left for my next Fringe event. I arrived in good time, so I had the opportunity to walk a bit further along the Royal Mile, towards the Castle.

I was very pleased to see the post box painted gold by Royal Mail to celebrate Chris Hoy, Gold Medal winner, London 2012 Olympic Games for track cycling: Men’s Kierin.

Monkey Barrel is just one of hundreds of venues used by the thousands of Fringe events. I found it easily enough and spotted Dan Tiernan hanging out. It was his show I’d come to see. When we punters entered, as a solo, I was directed to the front row by the usherette. Only as I took my seat did I realise how dangerous this might be.

Dan’s show, Quartz and All, was very funny, concentrating mostly on the power of healing crystals. It was very funny and shouty and while he did speak to a couple of other singletons in the front row, I successfully kept my head down.

Dan gave me a healing amethyst as I left, as a result of which, I was very lucky with the bus back to my pit. It was now just after midnight.

A bright sunny morning greeted me as I caught a bus to South Bridge and, for the first time, I had to stand. Which meant that I couldn’t easily keep an eye on the route, on my phone. Which meant that I got off several stops too early. But I enjoyed the walk to the Festival Theatre Café, where I’d decided to have a more substantial breakfast in anticipation of the long walk I’d signed up for. Street entertainment was provided by a choir, performing from both sides of the road, so proper stereo. Their rendition of The Proclaimers’ 500 Miles was terrific. Later on, on the walk, I learnt that this is the song used in Scotland for providing CPR while the rest of the world uses The Bee Gees’ Stayin’ Alive! Both have the perfect rhythm.

It really is Festival season right now. While enjoying my breakfast, I noticed how many people were wearing lanyards. Some said ‘Festival’, some ‘Fringe’, some volunteers, and even out on the street, I noticed many people with lanyards. I felt I was missing out on the Edinburgh Lanyard Festival, although I was aware of the Jazz Festival, International Festival, the Fringe, the Book Festival, the Film Festival and who knows what other, more esoteric, get-togethers were taking place.

Edinburgh’s Greatest Hits Music Walking Tour was conducted by Fiona, and there were maybe 16 of us in the group. She took us past various venues, places that musicians first plied their trade. She pointed out the house where David Bowie stayed with Lindsay Kemp for a short while.

This venue is utilised for Fringe events as well as for Graduation ceremonies and concerts throughout the year.

Fiona had warned us that there’d be some hills and some steps. The Vennel is an old, steep staircase that has been squished between two buildings in Grass Market. I soon lost count of the number of steps as I caught my breath. The climb was worth it though, if only for the view of the Castle.

Bob Dylan was called ‘Judas’ at a show in Manchester, for playing the second half of his show loud and electric, rather than acoustic. A couple of days later, he played at the ABC cinema in Edinburgh. Rather than hurl insults at his treachery, the Scottish audience just tried to drown the band out by playing their harmonicas. Sometimes you just want to be a fly on the wall of history.

The walking tour ended at the famous Sandy Bell’s pub, a home for many Scottish musicians, including Phil Cunningham, who Liesel and I saw in concert a few years ago.

Greyfriars Bobby is still very popular, but very soon, his nose will be worn out. And then, how will he smell?

The other vegetarian restaurant I wanted to visit was David Bann’s. I found it, and by luck, conveniently close to the venue for my afternoon performance. And of course, I had to try the Haggis with baby potatoes, braised neeps, whisky onion gravy and tenderstem broccoli. Very nice, very tasty, and best of all, I managed to finish my meal, I wasn’t overwhelmed by the amount of food on my plate.

Racists, Recessions and Revolutions is a play set during the 2016 fake news boom. It follows Nadica, a Macedonian-British woman who, with her cousin, gets rich by creating political misinformation from her family’s kitchen in Macedonia, exploiting events like Brexit and the rise of Trump. Isabella Heaver draws on her own Macedonian-British heritage for the role. There are moments when you cringe, because you wonder whether all the misinformation we see and hear really can, ultimately, come from a small kitchen in a small south-east European country.

The performance took place very close to the ECCI. I couldn’t believe it. We’re having enough issues with climate change, global warming and all that, and here’s an academic institute actually promoting the destruction of the planet.

Of course, I was still in tourist mode as I wandered around the streets of this beautiful city

I found the Royal Terrace and specifically the Ukrainian Community Centre, the venue for my final event of this year’s Fringe.

Iona Fyfe is a celebrated Scottish folk singer from Aberdeenshire, known for her powerful voice and deep roots in the bothy ballad tradition. Beyond music, she’s a prominent activist for the Scots language, successfully petitioning Spotify to recognise it. I’ve been a fan of hers for a few years and I have played her music on my show a few times. She sings some old folk songs that remind me of my Mum, who I remember as always singing when I was a child. Until this evening, I’d never seen Iona in concert. And it was an hour of music and nostalgia that was well worth waiting for. Did I sing along? No, not in Scots.

I floated back to my b&b afterwards, passing by a statue of Sherlock Holmes.

Thi life-sized bronze statue commemorates the author Sir Arthur Conan Doyle near his birthplace. Why there’s not a statue of Sir Arthur himself is one of the wonders of the world!

Another literary figure in St Andrew Square Garden is a very popular bear. I grabbed this photo in the nanosecond between pesky tourists sitting next to him for their own pictures.

So that was my Edinburgh Fringe. I had it all worked out on Saturday morning to see Charlie Lewis, another comedian fairly local to Northenden. But his show started half an hour later than I thought, and I really didn’t want to miss my train. Instead, I booked myself a massage which really did the job.

On the homeward journey, I had to change trains at Carlisle. Both trains offered free wifi. All the coffee shops in Edinburgh did too. Just click once or twice and you’re online. Not here on the train though. You have to enter all your details, name, address, age, phone number, hat size, inside leg measurement. By the time you’ve answered all those, it’s time to disembark.

In Manchester, I got off at Oxford Road rather than Piccadilly because the walk to my bus stop was much quicker. I was feeling quite tired after my adventures up north. The bus ride home dragged. At home, I ate, showered and went to bed.

For the first time in living memory, I slept for a solid twelve hours. Zzz.

In a heatwave, it’s not ideal sitting indoors with all the windows closed to keep the smoke from the wildfires out. After a few last minute chores, I set off for Whitby, soon after noon.

The drive was easy enough and only in a couple of places did I see smokey haze in the distance. Google Maps took me to the backdoor or my Airbnb, but luckily, Lucy was there to let me in.

To access my room, from the town, you have to walk up hill, then climb a dozen steps to reach the front door and then climb a further two flights of stairs inside. I’m glad it was a bit cooler here on the east coast: that was the plan, after all! And the bed that I invariably collapsed onto was very comfortable.

I went for a wander down into town, sight-seeing and people-watching. It’s hard to avoid seeing the Abbey high up on the hill, but on this visit, I resisted the temptation to climb the 199 steps to reach it.

The swing bridge is still closed to traffic, and I was impressed by the two very large Lego bricks blocking its entrance.

I found myself at the end of the very long jetty before thinking to look for somewhere to eat. In the end, I went for a pizza, a marguerita, which in this case was cheese, cheese, cheese and maybe it looked at a tomato at some point.

The wind felt cool but it was playing rough with the incoming tide.

Usually when we’re staying in a b&b, we don’t bother with the TV but I turned this one on. Strangely, Freeview wasn’t connected, but Netflix was. So, at last, after all this time, I watched Geeta Gandbhir’s Oscar-nominated film The Perfect Neighbor. It’s a tough watch but well worth the time. Unfortunately, it just confirms there are some nasty people around.

Meanwhile, Liesel, Leslie and Jyoti were out at a gig in Indianapolis, at the world famous Jazz Kitchen.

When the gulls aren’t stealing people’s chips, they can be seen trying to gain access to people’s homes.

In the morning after breakfast, I visited the local library to do some writing. It was peaceful inside, despite the background noise of seagulls squawking, other people typing and the odd vehicle outside proudly announcing its reversing skills.

I was surprised to see Māori text on the wall.

This translates to: Through discussion comes awareness, through awareness comes understanding, and through understanding comes knowledge. I was pleased to be able to show off my knowledge of Te Reo Māori to the library assistant. (Well, thanks, Google translate)

Captain James Cook has strong connections with Whitby. He was a British explorer, navigator, cartographer, and captain in the British Royal Navy. Famous for discovering Australia, totally ignoring the native Aussies who’ve been there for 60,000 years. He had absolutely nothing to do with the Titanic, although this model in the library is rather cool.

So, who wants to see how steep the path was up to Pannett Park? It was very steep, especially for those of us who live in the flatlands of Northenden.

This archway reminds us of the genuine whalebone archway nearer the town centre. There are carvings of ships and other nautical items, reminiscent of scrimshaw.

In the park, I saw a painter at work. He was reluctant to speak but he did agree to me taking this picture.

He didn’t tell me his name, but he did confirm that none of his work was on display in the nearby Pannett Art Gallery, which I visited after enjoying a coffee. I learned about the Staithes Group of Artists, British Impressionists from the late 19th, early 20th century.

The Museum is in the same building, but I decided not to visit this time.

Looking for a nice view and I thought, thistle do.

There are a number a wooden sculptures in the park too, some people are very talented.

Passage to India is, I believe, a good book by E M Forster, but I’ve never read it. I did visit the restaurant that shares its name though here in Whitby. Great food, yeah, but far too much for me, so again, no dessert.

Having seen the work of the Staithes Group of Artists, I thought it might be interesting to visit Staithes itself. It’s a short bus ride north, more or less along the coast, providing some nice views. I noticed there seems to be a disagreement between Google Maps and the local bus company. Is it Nettledale Close or Netterdale Close?

I got off the bus at Captain Cook’s Close, and walked for ten minutes into Staithes, which bills itself as Captain Cook’s Village, 1745. Well, he did work there for eighteen months as a shopboy to a grocer, but his skills lay elsewhere, as history shows.

You’re never too far from a lovely view in Yorkshire, and here was no different: this sight in particular caught my eye.

After a quick stop at Coastal Kitchen, I wandered into the very quaint, old town. The streets are narrow, cobbled, and modern vehicles really do look out of place here.

There’s a small stream, Staithes Beck, that flows by this historic fishing village, but right now, it’s really dry. On the other side are located coastal cliffs, which provide a lovely backdrop to the traditional red-roofed cottages on this side.

The museum was just up my street. Plenty of maritime artefacts, old maps, and an unusual sundial.

And yes, of course, there was a lot of information about Captain Cook. Who, by the way, died in Hawaii, which is where Liesel was born.

Dog Loup in the narrowest alleyway in the north of England. I had the pleasure of squeezing myself through its 45cm width to see what was at the other end.

Nothing special, so I went back the way I came.

I didn’t make the effort to walk over the stepping stones that cross the beck. It would have meant walking down a steep slope and then back up again. And I didn’t want to miss the bus back to Whitby.

Where’s my fix of Keiran? Here he is on his first visit to the local playground. What an adventurer.

And over in Indiana, Liesel has been buying fruit and veg to take back to Anchorage, as well as admiring the copious local bindweed.

The drive back home was uneventful. I stopped a couple of times to look at the view, well, because I could.

This natural amphitheatre is near Saltergate Bank. It has a fascinating geological origin. A local giant, Wade the Giant, scooped up a handful of earth to throw at his wife during an argument, creating the hole, and leaving behind Blakey Topping where the earth landed. She must really have annoyed him.

That was a most enjoyable few days away, and I’m pleased to say that when I returned home, the stench of smoke had dissipated and the heatwave had eased off a bit.

In Indianapolis, Liesel, her Mom and Jyoti had therapeutic pedicures. Definitely needed after all the walking they’ve done.

I say walking, but I think some of it was running away from the giant squirrels they have in that part of the world.

Back home, back to normal, the only deadline being completion of the week’s radio show.

While I was enjoying my train journey to Reading, Liesel was having her own little adventure. On the way to Martha and Williama’s school Summer Fair (Fayre?), she got a puncture. Well, not Liesel herself, it was one of the car’s tyres. Less than two months ago, we bought a set of four brand new tyres, and here we are already with a puncture. It was sorted quickly by the nice young men at Halfords.

It was a momentous day down under too. Helen Scissorhands gave Keiran his first haircut.

And afterwards, he still has more hair than I have.

After arriving in Reading, I took a bus to my Airbnb where Rosie welcomed me and as soon as I had privacy in my room, I had a lie down. Plans to do some sight-seeing in this town bit the dust, but later on, I did go for a bus ride and a wander while I sought somewhere nice to eat. In the end, I settled for nachos. Nothing special, but just what I needed at the time.

Whereas Northenden has 101 vape shops, Reading seems to specialise in mobile phone accessory outlets, several next to each other in one alleyway.

No, I wasn’t staying at this old hotel, dating from 1506 apparently. I was in fact in the basement of a Buddhist retreat which I was grateful for, it was much cooler here than outside. Reading has a Business Improvement District and I was impressed by this four-tier floral display in the town centre.

You learn something new every day. The idea for Paddington Bear came from Reading, and the Reading citizens are very ptoud of that.

After a good night’s sleep, I did wander the streets a bit more, despite the heat. I try not to be full-on British and complain that it’s too hot when we’ve been waiting so long for some warmth, but I did find myself heading for shade whenever possible.

Reading does have a heart, and as I walked by the River Kennet, I found it.

From the explanatory plaque: The Reading Amnesty Art Project incorporates reclaimed weapons from knife amnesty bins, to form part of a sculpture for our local community.

Working with young people around ideas of reflection, peace, hope, togetherness and safety – Stuart Melrose has created ‘The Armoured Heart’ a symbol ol respect and love.

When knife crime happens, it affects everyone –  real people and real lives. Every person matters. We need to respect each other and ourselves, and ensure that Reading is a safe place to live

Make a positive choice to not carry a knife or use violence.

Support each other and we can make Reading a safer place for everyone.

Many people were enjoying the sunshine in Forbury Gardens as I walked through on my pilgrimage to Reading Abbey. On this site, I encountered only a couple of other visitors, which I thought strange. The Abbey was founded in 1121 by the first King Henry and it has a fascinating history.

Here are some ruins with a very modern building, The Blade, in the background. Construction of this modern office block began in 2007, so it’s just 886 years younger than the Abbey.

I’m always on the lookout for songs for my radio show, so I was delighted to come across this one:

Sadly, there was nobody else around to hear my recitation. Their loss.

I sat on a park bench where I met and chatted with a retired Scottish guy who spends half his time in Romania. Following his recommendation, I have watched some videos on YouTube made by @BlackBeltBarrister, plenty of food for thought there.

While enjoying my late breakfast slash early lunch, I wasn’t expecting to see a Zebra go by. A Zebra is, of course, a Zero-Emission Bus for the Reading Area. But all the buses here seem to be colour-coded. The buses I used most often were Yellow 26 and Jet Black 1. While enjoying coffee and a muffin in BB’s, I watched someone taking pictures of all the buses going by. Other colours include Azure, Sky Blue 15a, Lime, Purple 17 and more. I saw one with Global Warming stripes as its livery. And the replacement buses all seem to be grey.

Something else I thought was a very good, modern idea was, on buses terminating at the railway station, there was a display showing the next few train departure times and their platform numbers.

One job I don’t particularly fancy is that of Environmental Enforcement Officer, pounding the streets of Reading. I can’t believe the amount of equipment they carry around.

The reason for my visit to Reading this weekend was to attend Jesstival. Jessica Lee Morgan has just turned 50 years of age (she’s not coy about this fact) and she was celebrating by performing at The Purple Turtle with various guest musicians.

I was pleased to meet Sue, another big music fan, who shares my birthday. It was hot outside but we agreed that the air conditioning inside was unnecessarily turned up to 11. Still, the music was good. Jess performed several 20-minute long sets with her partner Chris and other fellow musicians that she’s worked with at various points in the past.

They performed plenty of Jess’s own songs, plus a few Bowie tracks, and a few others from the old Those Were The Days shows. The tongue-twisting When did it all Begin was well-received by all.

Simon Adams played drums on a few songs. Jess played sax and kazoo but sadly not at the same time.

Frank Zappa wasn’t there today, but having his image outside the Accessible Toilet was quite funny, I thought.

Crispin ‘The Pump’ Taylor, a member of The Blow Monkeys, played the  drums beginning with a fantastic cover of Son of a Preacher Man. Other covers included Dock of the Bay, Big Yellow Taxi, Lady Stardust, You’re so Vain, and of course, Those Were the Days.

I’m sorry I didn’t get all the names, but I think we saw and heard Laurie Wright on bass, Pete Doyle, Jules Hay and Peter Byrne from Coda Led Zeppelin. Someone White was visiting from Brisbane and I think I heard the name Mick Anchor. Nor did I get around to getting a copy of the set list.

I was surprised that there was no food available at this pub, not even crisps, so, during one of the breaks I visited Subway, next door but one, and bought a dozen cookies which I was happy to share.

Under Pressure, Locomotive Breath, Play that Funky Music White Boy, I Heard it Through the Grapevine, Pink Floyd’s Money, Video Killed the Radio Star, Twentieth Century Boy and possibly my favourite song of the day, Sandy Denny’s Where Does the Time Go?

The gig finished about 9.30, with two of Jess’s own songs that we all sang along to, The Less Said The Better and This is My Love Song, ending very nearly six hours of entertainment. I caught a bus back to my accommodation but I don’t know why I bothered, it was only two stops!

Thanks to Jessica for the invitation and for the entertainment. I’m sorry that your parents weren’t there but I’m sure they celebrated your half-century in their own way!

I said farewell to Rosie before checking out after another good, comfortable night’s sleep. Although I did hear some Buddhist chanting fairly early. From the bus on the return journey to the station I spotted Muffin Break. I had breakfast here and a coffee. The coffee was so good, I had a second cup along with a muffin. It passed the time until my train turned up.

I saw this train at the station and thought that’s what trains are supposed to look like. It’s very nearly the same shade of green that the old Southern Region trains were, the ones that took us into London as children for many enjoyable days out in the capital.

It was good to be back home.

And good to pick the children up from school on a very hot day. The post-school snack, for all of us, was an ice cream in the park. Both Martha and William were pleased that the zipwire had been fixed.

I accidentally left my phone at home on the day we went to watch Martha’s cricket team play a match. She batted well and bowled a wicket, so we were very pleased that she was announced Player of the Match.

The weather this week was challenging. Very hot. So, one afternoon, Liesel, Leslie and I went to the movies. We enjoyed The Tuner although it was slightly more violent than anticipated. Again, too many adverts and trails though.

And the following evening, Liesel and I attended one of the few performances of The Surge: An Ode to Sinéad O’Connor at Aviva Studios. It’s always good of course to hear Sinéad’s voice, whether singing or speaking, but the troupe of ten dancers made the show.

If I said they spent a lot of time dancing on park benches and moving them around the stage, you’d probably think, that sounds a bit daft. But no, it was a fascinating show, full of energy, skill and stamina.

While we were being entertained here, Martha was on the world stage. The Women’s T20 Cricket World Cup is taking place, and tonight at Old Trafford, Scotland played Sri Lanka. Martha was proud to be a mascot joining the Scottish team as they played and sang their national anthem, Flower of Scotland.

There’s a ceremony at the start of each match where they bring on the national flags, huge flags, and Liam volunteered to help carry the Sri Lanka one onto the field.

Of course, it was only fair that Martha lift the trophy, supported by her cousin.

It was well worth visiting Quarry Bank Mill for a quick walk. Mainly though, we went for the scones since Liesel and her Mom will be leaving very soon for America. Purple/pink flowers seem to be the flavour of the day.

There were plenty of bees and a couple of butterflies. But the insect we got closest to was a moth, back in our apartment block. Because it’s hot, we leave the windows open. And because the motion-senitive lights don’t work and stay on all night, loads of bugs fly in.

It was beginning to cool down, no more 30° days for a short while. Quite pleasant in fact, especially with a light breeze. We heard some thunder rumbling in the distance but didn’t see any lightning. Certainly nothing like the 93,000 lightning strikes they’d experienced in Oban a few nights ago.