Autobiographical – Page 10 – Mick and Liesel's Antics

Menagerie

I don’t know if Liesel was surprised or not, but I got up in time to have breakfast and then walk with her to Didsbury, for her weekly coffee and chat with the ladies of the WI. We had a pleasant walk by the river to Didsbury. Some of the grass on the bank has been cut back, but there was a healthy barrier between the path and the river. That didn’t prevent all the dogs from jumping in the water, though.

Suddenly, amongst all the nettles and brambles and grass and thistles, one solitary red poppy grabbed our attention. It was vibrant, at just the right angle to the Sun, its intensity doesn’t really show up in the photo.

In the Metropolitan, we ordered our coffees at the bar. Where are you sitting? Liesel’s over there, with the WI ladies, and I’m over there, a few tables away. Why aren’t you sitting together? Several responses came to mind and I opted for, well, I failed the audition to join the WI.

So I sat over there, drank my coffee, studied my phone, and then walked home. On the way, I saw a tank parked up. It’s been there a long time, Liesel told me later, I just hadn’t walked along that road for a while.

A bit extreme, I thought. The potholes are bad around Manchester, yes, but an armoured vehicle is a bit OTT.

The squirrel greeted me when I arrived at home. For years, his instinct has been to run up the tree whenever he sees me. Maybe he thought I couldn’t see him, under the bush. Even when I accidently let the front door slam shut, he didn’t budge.

In the evening, we went over to Jenny’s for a Chinese takeaway. This was Helen’s last evening in England, before flying back home early on Sunday.

Liesel’s task for the day was to finish the pelican that she’d been crocheting for a long time. Why a pelican? And why the rush?

Well, Helen’s BFF Bambi in Australia is expecting a baby in a couple of months, and the pelican will be one of the young joey’s first cuddly toys.

The pelican is bigger than anticipated, it’s hard to gauge the size from a small picture. The stitch-count in the intructions should be a clue, but it just grew and grew, it sprouted feet and wings and of course, a big bill. A funny old bird is the pelican. Its bill can hold more than its belly can.

Liesel fought against finger cramp and RSI and pins and needles not to mention the heat but she’s a star. The pelican was completed, stuffed, sewn up and it accompanied us to Jenny’s in Cheadle Hulme.

Liesel’s dilemma was: could she bear to make another pelican should a request be received? Or would she prefer to stick to smaller projects. In any case, Liesel put away the crochet needles for a few days to give her digits a chance to recover.

Another problem was: Helen now had to fit the pelican into her already full bag.

Liesel and I collected the food from the local Chinese takeaway and we all had a very nice meal. I suspect some people had leftover Chinese for breakfast and/or lunch the following day!

Before we left, Helen and Jenny both gave me Fathers’ Day cards and chocolates, a total surprise as I’d forgotten it was that time of year. Thank you very much!

And as Helen flew away into the sunrise, Liesel and I wondered who would entertain us now? Mom, Jyoti, Helen, all come and now gone. No more visitors for a while. We might have to make our own fun.

Well, I wouldn’t call it fun, but the new printer stopped working. The problem was rectified within a couple of days, that’s great customer service from Cartridge Save, but HP as an organisation are pretty evil. Installing firmware in my printer, that I paid for, that detects non-HP ink cartridges and prevents it from working. Imagine Sodatreams only working with Evian water but not tap water. Or your car only running with one brand of petrol. It wouldn’t be allowed under decent competition laws. But HP? Huh. That’s my whinge of the week.

We missed the weekly Wednesday walk again. The Royal Cheshire County Show was happening, and Liesel had volunteered to help the WI in their tent. Her job was to make sandwiches. I said I’d go along with her, to offer moral support, and to wander round the exhibits.

It’s a two-day event and we were there on the second day. The traffic queue to get into the car park was ridiculously long. But we got there in the end. On disembarking from the car and embarking on the long hike to the show site itself, we were greeted by the biggest, blackest cloud ever.

At that moment, it didn’t feel like it was going to rain and of course, neither of us had waterproofs.

But it did rain. It poured. It was torrential. Liesel and I ducked into a tent with hundreds of other people, and some cattle. Teeming doesn’t cover it. It was a short storm, but long enough to turn all the paths and fields to mud. I had trainers on, but Liesel’s sandals were no match for that kind of weather. So, in a way, standing inside a tent for over three hours making sandwiches was a blessing.

We found the WI tent and, when the rain eased off, I went for a wet, muddy walk, to see what was on offer. It’s a very popular show, and much bigger than the equivalent shows we’d visited in Guildford when we were children.

The Cheshire Area of the National Association of Flower Arrangement Services had a great display of prize-winning arrangements.

I wonder how many hours work went into this one?

While drinking a coffee and eating my Bakewell tart, I enjoyed music from the Sandbach and District U3A Brass Band. Apart from anything else, it made me wonder whether we should have another go at joining U3A. Last time we did that, a pandemic ensued, so I’m not sure we should risk it again.

It was jolly decent of their majesties King Charles and Queen Camilla to turn up in their gold carriage, and park up outside the Cheshire WI tent.

Actually, it wasn’t the real King and Queen. They, the soldiers standing guard and even the horse were all scarecrows made using the traditional materials of wood and straw, with the addition of a covering of weather protecting bin bags. They are dressed in recycled clothing. The decoration and badges on the uniforms were created from bits and pieces of haberdashery and discarded jewellery.

Further afield, I found a funfair, lots of food stalls, a few charities seeking support, and lots of horses.

You might be wondering, which was my favourite horse? Well I think it’s this white one with a very long tail.

When I saw this big dish in the distance, I wondered whether it was the Sir Bernard Lovell telescope at Jodrell Bank. But, looking at a map afterwards, we were probably too far away.

Eventually I did find the farm animals. A little bit stinky, of course, but nothing like the tent with the pigeons, rabbits and cavies. The wall of ammonia that I walked into there drove me away instantaneously. Anyway, back to the farm animals.

The horns on this ram looked plastic. I didn’t get too close to investigate, I’m not that brave, but I did wonder whether they were 3D-printed and stuck on.

I went back to find Liesel soon after 2pm, and we wandered around together for a bit. The only thing we bought, despite so much temptation, was gingerbread from the shop in Grasmere that Pauline, Andrew and I visited last year. Very nice, very gingery.

We ate an ice cream while watching the horse-drawn carriage driving competition. They drove round and round the arena, and there was no overtaking. It was no Ben Hur. But they were all very elegant.

Meanwhile, Helen flew home, met Bambi and Brett, and introduced them to the pelican.

Bambi said it’s the best present she’s had, but what’s nice is that the pelican has made friends already down under, by the looks of it, with an octopus, a teddy, a lion and a koala.

According to my sources (Helen), Brett entered the room and said “what, that’s awesome, where did that come from?! That’s my favourite for sure.”

Helen’s no longer sure the baby will actually receive the pelican. This controversy will no doubt be discussed and resolved at length in the weeks and months to come. Anyway, congratulations, good luck and lots of love to Bambi and Brett and bump from Liesel and me.

It was a hot walk through the Wythenshawe woods, just the five of us this week. Followed by a cold drink in the coffee shop, unusual for me, but becoming more common as the hot weather continues.

At home this week, I have been making good progress on the computer, with the long-term project known as ‘sorting out the photos’. It’s amazing how much work, much of it repetitive, is required after having one zapped SD card and having to change phones. I hope you never have to recover photos from Google’s cloud storage. It’s not intuitive, it’s not easy, it’s not straightforward, it’s time-consuming and you’re never sure you have everything. I’m so glad I had my own backup copies.

In this week’s radio show, I listed the many local Festivals that are taking part in the coming weeks. If you missed it on Wythenshawe Radio WFM 97.2, you can catch it here.

Relaxation, Adventures, and Escapes

The day after our return from Center Parcs was very laid back. Some might describe it as lazy. We did very little. In fact, some might say we did nothing. We didn’t even turn the radio or TV on. A very relaxed day, all in all. A couple of snacks, a couple of hikes from sofa to kitchen, and an early night.

So here is some news from abroad.

Jyoti’s back at home in Anchorage, watching the wildlife from her window.

Meanwhile, over there in Cheadle Hulme, William was Star of the week at football class: the coach said he’d got it for his effort this week ⭐

Meanwhile, Helen drove south to visit some old friends in Somerset and SW London, and drove past our old house several times in disbelief at what our old neighbours have done.

Jenny and Liam took William and Martha to Legoland Windsor. The theme park was great fun but later in the week, the children were just raving about the breakfast they had at the hotel, the buffet style spread was huge, and the piles of toast were amazing!

We’re now in the midst of a heatwave. Suddenly the temperature is in the high 20s Celsius. Phew what a scorcher is the over-used phrase. And then came the thunderstorms. After skirting Manchester for a few days, we finally experienced one. Torrential rain and then hail, with stones the size of peas. I later found out that elsewhere, the hailstones were the size of marbles. Nothing wrong with a nice refreshing thunderstorm of course, unless you’re caught in it outside. Which, unfortunately, is what happened to the young lady whose job it was to deliver our pizza. When I ordered online, there was no sign of a cloud in the sky, but in the 25 minutes it took to cook our pizza, everything changed. She deserved a bigger tip, really. And a towel.

For the first time in many weeks, Liesel and I joined the Wednesday walk. It was a hot day for a walk by the river, with little shade. Phew what a scorcher. But the heron was standing in his default spot on the weir, so that was a bonus.

Liesel and I collected the children from school and, instead of bringing them to our luxury but hot apartment, we took them over to the nearby playground in Bruntwood Park, a short walk from school. They had fun playing, it was impossible to run after them, and it was nice to sit down in the shade for a picnic.

They both reached the summit of the climbing frame, again, something I’m not sure I could do, but only because it’s in a childrens’ playground, not for any other reason such as cowardice or chickenry.

There is a sandpit in this playground. The following converstion did not take place:
William: Can I play in the sandpit?
Grandad: Yes, of course you can, fill yer boots!

Nevertheless, he chose to do so, literally.

Later on, Martha and a school chum played in the sandpit too. By the time we’d all walked home, I think most of the sand had fallen off their shoes. Well, I say ‘shoes’, but as you can see, William was wearing wellies. I think the kiddoes had a good brush down and a shower at home.

We had an unusual visitor this week.

Usually, we see them later in the year, so here’s another sign, maybe, of climate change.

For the first time in many weeks, I joined the Thursday walk. It was a hot day for a walk so the shade in the woods was very welcome. Phew what a scorcher. There were just the four of us this week, Mick, Michael, Chantel and Chantelle.

Jenny and Liam asked us to babysit one evening, and that’s always a pleasure. They and Helen were joining a couple of friends at an Escape Room. Martha was building a Lego model that she’d acquired at Legoland. She was doing really well, the instructions are really good and comprehensive, she didn’t really need my help. She was about halfway through completing the structure, at instruction number 140.

They ate (most) of their supper, and got ready for bed quickly after which we read some stories. Both said they missed Mummy, but accepted that Mummy and Daddy like to go out sometimes. And, once asleep, they both stayed in slumber at least until we left when parents and auntie returned. The Escape Room had been good fun but very hot.

With this in mind, I dressed as lightly as I could the following day, because Jenny and Helen’s (belated) birthday present for me was a visit to an Escape Room, not the same as last night’s.

This one is located in Disley and the drive there was very pleasant.

Our team of tomb raiders and archeologists entered an abandoned gold mine in the heart of the Mexican mountains. Our mission was to find the hidden gold. Legend says that the holder of the hidden gold of El Narangel will find the Lost Tomb. The miners left subtle clues and hints, so we used all our skills to find the hidden gold and ultimately the Lost Tomb. We had to be careful because the miners wouldn’t give up their gold easily.

I would recommend this, my first Escape Room experience, ExtremEscape, it was challenging and good fun and, contrary to expectations, the venue wasn’t too hot.

No spoilers, so no photos, suffice to say, we escaped with 8 minutes left from the original 90-minute duration of the challenge.

At the risk of blowing my own trumpet, I am very proud to have been the first person to solve one puzzle in one particular way, according to our host! Even though, at the time, I was berated by children and spouse!

For lunch, we dined at Greens in Didsbury. As usual, the food was great, the service was terrific and again, Liesel and I agreed we should come more often.

At home, the latest TV series that we’re enjoying is Extraordinary Attorney Woo: very unusual to see a character on the autistic spectrum in a lead rôle.

My show this week on Wythenshawe Radio featured two hours of Cover versions, and if you missed it, you can catch up here.

Center Parcs

Our next adventure? Yes, a week in Center Parcs with Helen, Jenny, Liam, Martha and William. The seven of us were to occupy a single lodge in the holiday village in Sherwood Forest, the first to open, in 1987. So it’s the same age as Helen. Any plans I had for a long, luxurious lie-in were put on hold for a few days.

Liesel and I rose early, finished our packing and set off for Jenny’s house. There, we loaded two cars with people and enough stuff for six months. Or so it seemed: I think most of the paraphernalia was for the children. Including their bikes which we mounted on the back of our car.

Quite rightly, Martha was concerned that the bikes might fall off on the journey. We reassured her that the straps would hold them in place. Telling her that if the bikes fell off, then so would the back door of the car, well, in retrospect, maybe that wasn’t what she needed to hear.

The weather looked promising and the two-hour drive was straightforward, over and around the Peaks and into Nottinghamshire. The one and only other time I’d been to Sherwood Forest was in about 1984, for work. I remember being pestered by wasps at the pub.

After arriving and checking in at the main gates, we ate lunch in the Village Square. I know a few people who have taken short breaks at Center Parcs, but I didn’t really know what to expect. It’s a large community of about 400 acres in the middle of the forest. Other than driving to the lodge to unload the car, and reloading a few days later, cars aren’t allowed on the roads. Which leaves the park free for the enjoyment of cyclists, pedestrians, buggies, skaters and scooterers. Even on our first little walk to the village square, I was surprised and delighted to see squirrels and moorhens and geese and ducks.

4pm was the time to unload the vehicles. Jenny entered the lodge first, catching a member of staff putting her feet up for a few minutes. Oops.

I don’t know how many bags and cases and boxes we carried in for the seven of us, but then I recall that when Liesel and I went away for just a couple of days at Christmas, we had 16 bags.

I thought this oak tree was hundreds of years old, but no, it was planted in the late 19th century. Why is it crooked? The strange ‘wolf’ tree form was created in the mid-20th Century when it was about 90 years old and the largest tree in the forest. Pine trees were planted around the oak and as they grew, their canopies covered over the oak’s branches. To reach the warmth of sunlight the gnarly old oak opened its boughs wide and twisted them between the pine canopies. When Center Parcs arrived, the pines were removed giving the oak unimpeded access to daylight. Neither William nor I climbed the tree.

We had an early dinner, my kind of meal really, lots of snacks, nibbles, crackers, falafels, pita chips, spinach dip. We’d planned to go swimming afterwards, so I was conscious that I shouldn’t eat too much: no need to sink on the first day.

The pool area is big and even in the evening, very busy, lots of families, lots of children and, I’m pleased to say, I wasn’t the oldest person there.

Martha and William encouraged me to go on The Rapids. As the name suggests, you’re taken down a slide, with multiple turns and bumps and plunges. What I didn’t anticipate was getting cramp in one toe. Which meant, I was even more out of control of my body, I kept bumping into Liam, I couldn’t apologise enough, but I couldn’t stop either, in the fast flowing water, to give my foot a chance to sort itself out. The third and final section was horrible too. Most of the water went up my nose. Glad I did it, but no need to do it again. Maybe just the first section.

We queued for the Grand Cascade boat ride. You hold onto the circular boat as it, relatively gently, travels down a 600-metre shute. At the end of a very enjoyable ride, everyone climbed out of our vessel, including William. ‘Are you alright?’ asked the lifeguard as I floundered in the boat, which was now half full of water. ‘Yeah, grandson just stomped on my nuts’, I explained.

We went to bed later than I’m now used to, but even so, it took ages for us to fall asleep. First night in a new place and new bed is always a challenge of course, but I think I’d ODed on caffeine too.

One of the benefits of still being awake at around midnight was that I heard owls hooting outside. Next time, I laughingly told myself, I’ll go out and see if I can see one.

The next morning, Liesel rose early and went for a walk around the village. I would (maybe) have joined if I’d been awake. Martha and William fed the geese and ducks that visited our back door. The bird food is supplied, and the birds know it. And so do the squirrels! Also queueing for free food was a blackbird, more baby moorhens and of course, pigeons.

We went for a swim in the morning and it was much busier than last night. In fact, it was so crowded that at one point, I had to get away from the throng and go for a walk around the pool area. I don’t know how many tens of thousands of steps remain unaccounted for because of course I didn’t have my pedometer with me.

In other news, today marked a very significant anniversary. Never mind D-Day in 1944. Or the UK referendum which continued our membership of the EEC. No, on 6th June, 1973, I went into school to sit one of my A-level exams. Halfway through, I just got up and ran to the toilets. I’d been having stomach pains for a few days. The GP had put it down to ‘exam nerves’. I know what exam nerves feel like, and this was totally different. But in those days, the doctor knew best.

Somehow, I got home, Mum took me to see the doctor and thank goodness it was a different one. A quick examination confirmed: appendicitis. Dad was at Epsom, enjoying Derby Day, so Mum came to hospital with me, in the ambulance.

I was told later that my appendix was removed ‘just in time’. A black shrivelled up thing was how it was described.

During my ten days in hospital, I sat one more exam, invigilated by my then maths teacher, Jenny Nelson. Whom I still feel bad about, because I never thanked her properly.

It never occurred to me in that hospital bed, during a hot Summer, that fifty years later, I would be having a holiday with my children and my grandchildren.

After lunch, we walked over to the Aerial Adventure. All the girls signed up for this challenge, us boys volunteered to take pictures. To be fair, I think William would have joined in but he’s just not quite tall enough this year.

The adventure entails walking among the treetops, on wobbly boards, through a tunnel, and negotiating various other obstacles before the final zip wire ride across the lake.

Liam and William took a boat out onto the lake and I thought I’d stay on land to get some different photos.

Sadly, my videos were no good. I blame it on the fact that my new phone behaves differently to the old one. Nevertheless, it was quite exciting to see Jenny, Liesel, Helen and Martha fly over the lake, shrieking with enjoyment.

In the evening, we dined at Las Iguanas, where I was surprised to see that many of the waiting staff were robots. They carry the food to your table, and a real human (or so I believe them to be) serves it up to us customers.

Later in the evening, Liesel and I were relaxing on the sofa, when Christmas appeared.

Good night, Merry Christmas, sleep well!

After breakfast, the children wanted to swim again but Liesel and I decided to take a day off. Liesel had some work to do, and as regular readers will be aware, I was a long, long way behind with this blog. So after watching Martha and William play in the Pirate’s Cove for a while, Liesel and I went and sat in the café that overlooks the rapids, where we drank coffee, typed and observed.

Jack-in-the-pulpit, or Arisaema Triphyllum, to use its botanical name, is a perennial wildflower native to north America. It’s sometimes called a bog onion. Which, as the sign says, is quite appropriate, because this one is in fact a urinal, which I think all us gents were too intimidated to use.

Today’s adventure for the children was the climbing walls. I think they both did remarkably well, climbing several different walls, each with its own challenges. I wouldn’t have climbed nearly as high, even knowing the safety equipment was in proper working order.

Later in the afternoon, I went for a solo wander over to the Nature Walk. I followed well-made paths, walked through the trees, and was glad to be away from people for a short while. So what wonders of nature did I behold on this special trail? One rabbit, one squirrel and, er, some pretty flowers.

On our last full day here, I got up early, finished writing and posted the blog. Liesel decided to work again, while I went swimming with everyone else. I say swimming, but the pool isn’t designed for serious swimming, it’s too busy and the wrong shape. So when I say I swam two lengths, it’s not that impressive, really.

Liesel and I took the children to the playground in the afternoon. Two playgrounds in fact. The first one was for 8-13 year olds, and so the equipment was quite a stretch for both of them.

Later on, time for 10-pin bowling. I didn’t participate because my back has been giving me gip on and off for a couple of weeks. Jenny didn’t play either, because of her knee issues. Being a mere observer, I couldn’t help but notice there was definitely a slight camber to the left hand side, that’s where most of the errant bowls ended up.

The weather had been OK all week, but a couple of extra degrees would have been nice. We enjoyed our walk, or in the case of the children, bike ride, to the venue for our evening meal. There’s a maze here too which Martha and William enjoyed running around, and, taking a cue from their Dad, jumping over the low fences!

After the best night’s sleep of the week, and a quick breakfast, it was time to pack up, move out and move on. Liesel volunteered to retrieve the car from the car park and when I saw it, decorated with a thick layer of pollen, I finally understood why some of us had been suffering from hay fever all week.

It took several trips to carry all the bags and cases and boxes from the lodge to the cars. And, because we had a long way to drive home later, I thought it would be nice to see where we were going, so I washed the pollen off the cars’ windows.

On our first day here, William and Martha drew on the blackboard in the lodge, and I am glad I can preserve the artwork here:

Oh, and it wasnt a lodge after all, it was a ‘villa’! At least, according to the sticker warning of the deep water nearby.

There was time for one final swim in the morning. The first time William saw this shute, slide, whatever it is, he took a few seconds before deciding not to go on it. Just a few days later, and he was sliding down, very fast, time after time. As was Martha.

I managed to get a video of the family at the end of a Grand Cascade Boat Ride.

After our final meal, this time at the Pancake House, we set off for home. It seemed to be a long drive, with lots of traffic and loads of hold-ups. But we still made it back to Cheadle in time for Martha and William to attend their cricket club. Yes, they’re learning the skills of the gentlemen’s game. I was glad to see they don’t use a real cricket ball though: I’m still wary of those things from my own school days.

When Martha wasn’t required to bowl or wield a bat, she entertained us by doing handstands out in the field.

After dropping the bikes and other paraphernalia off at Jenny’s house, Liesel and I went home. Hot, tired, and very happy. We’d had a lovely, fun time with the family.

A bonus was that during the two-hour drive, Liesel and I listened to Wythenshawe Radio, and there was a fascinating show about Parks. Mick the Knife presented it and you can catch it here.

Carlisle to Northenden and back to normal

Our hosts let us stay in the b&b for a while after the publicised checkout time, and I had a very modest breakfast, since there was to be no major hike. Tammy and Teresa walked to the station with their heavy bags and shortly afterwards, Jyoti, Liesel and I took the taxi: the same cabbie as yesterday, booked by Liesel when he dropped us off yesterday, mainly because he wasn’t Max Verstappen.

Yes, we caught up with Teresa and Tammy at the station. Our trains, theirs to Euston and ours to Manchester, departed from the same platform, albeit over half an hour apart. The second farewells were just as fond as the first.

I wish I’d counted the carriages or containers that made up the long Tesco train as it passed through Carlisle Station.

I probably could have used the facilities closer to where we were sitting, waiting for our train, but it was fun wandering around, getting a few steps in, at least.

And of course, it’s always fun looking down on people.

The two-hour train journey into Manchester was uneventful, but we did pass some very pleasant countryside, which I observed momentarily whilst reading my very exciting book.

And the thought crossed my mind: yep, for the last week or so, we’ve been walking through that sort of thing.

And again, as my mind wandered, the thought occurred: in hotels and b&bs, why do the bathroom materials have to be so hard to identify? All I want to know is whether it’s ‘Shampoo’ or ‘Shower Gel’ or whatever. Yet this vital information is often in very small print at the bottom of the bottle. I don’t care who the manufacturer is, or what it smells of, or what the ingredients are or whether or not the bottle’s recyclable, or what its capacity is. Just tell me what it is, in a big typeface, something that I can read when I don’t have my glasses on in the shower. That’s the whinge of the day.

The taxi ride home from the station was also uneventful. Again, we were glad not to have Stirling Moss driving us.

I think it’s fair to say we took the rest of the day easy. Liesel and Jyoti attended to their blisters. My only one, on a small toe, was caused by a small stone that had entered my shoe via the back door. A new shoe that should be waterproof, but according to the mud stains on my sock, in that corner, wasn’t.

The one commitment I had was to produce a radio show for Friday. This I completed over two days, utilising birthday messages sent by several messages from Jenny’s friends and family. I can’t believe Jenny is that old, I keep doing the arithmetic in my head. Forty years ago this week, to speed things along, Sarah was doing lots of gardening, and enjoying plenty of Indian food.

We invited the family over for dinner, which I think they enjoyed. Martha certainly did.

I wondered how long the ‘rest period’ would be following our hike across the country. It was very easy to not join any of the regular local walks this week. On one occasion I had to go to Boxx2Boxx for a meeting with David and Mary again. I still find it interesting that there are so many services offered locally, but the main problem is informing the people that need to know.

In the afternoon I took a bus into Manchester, to the blood donation centre. To donate blood, I wasn’t just going in to ‘borrow’ some biscuits. Trainee Phoebe looked after me today, and she seemed relieved when I agreed to letting her put the needle in my arm. ‘Well, you’ve got to practice on somebody’, I said.

I think someone must have set the alarm off once too often. They seem pretty desperate for us to press the right button when we want to leave the building.

Before going home, yes of course I had biscuits, custard creams and shortbread, since you ask, plus orange squash. They don’t offer tea or coffee any more, and I hope that’s for medical reasons and not ‘budget cuts’.

The three of us went for a walk at Dunham Massey, it’s close, fairly flat, and at this time of year, very colourful.

But the most exciting event of the day was undoubtedly the arrival of my younger daughter Helen, all the way from Australia. Liesel, Jyoti and I went over and joined the family for dinner. I took one photo. A momentous occasion, and all I got was this non-award winning portrait, which gained negative points for its composition.

When Liesel’s Mom left, Jyoti arrived to take her place. Helen turned up so now it’s time for Jyoti to go home. One in, one out. On Jyoti’s last full day here on this visit, we all went to Chester Zoo. Liesel, Jyoti and I arrived first, and before the others joined us, we actually saw some animals. Exciting, eh? And we saw even more animals when we were a party 7 strong. Yes, sadly, only 7, Liam was left at home to deal with a faulty boiler. We offerered, but I’m so glad they didn’t all come round to ours at 7am for a warm shower.

Martha haunting the golden mantella vivarium

During her time here, Jyoti was often busy knitting hats for the children. She and Liesel with her crochet are very talented.

Another fabulous day then, in fair weather. Liesel, Jyoti and I sadly couldn’t make the comedy night that I’d booked ages ago on account of being absolutely shattered. Plus, Jyoti had to pack as she was leaving us the following day. One in, one out.

We said our goodbyes at Manchester Airport and then, in the afternoon, we went around to Jenny’s again for her 40th birthday party. Alan and Una were there too as well as Andrea, Paul, Annabel and Emily. A party of 13.

It was nice enough to go in the garden too.

It’s Jenny’s day, but of course, most of the attention was on the children, with Martha doing handstands and never quite going all the way over.

And we began to pack for our next little adventure…

When it cooled off a bit later, we went inside and the children entertained us with various dances. Oh to be so uninhibited, I hope they never lose their joie de vivre.

We’d had quite a feast by the time the birthday cake arrived, but that didn’t stop me from having a slice, maybe two, I can’t quite remember, with my coffee.

In technical news, it was time to get my phone repaired. Replace the battery and fix the volume control buttons. Everyone else, it seems, had broken phones since all the slots at the Samsung repair shop were booked. Plan B was to arrange for an engineer or mechanic to come to mine and fix it. Or technician, as I found such people are called.

It was good to see the Mersey again, and on this bright and sunny Sunday, some people were messing about in boats. I watched and waited, but nobody fell in the water.

I do enjoy listening to podcasts, and have subscribed to quite a few. I’m a bit behind right now, but I hadn’t realised quite how many episodes were in the pile to be listened to.

I think it might take a while catch up, between you and me.

In family news: William can now ride a bike. So he cycled and Martha scootered to their local park one afternoon, with Jenny, Helen and me in hot pursuit.

Liesel has begun a couple of new crochet projects: a sheep and a pelican. Can you tell what this is yet?

That’s right, a pelican

For Jenny’s birthday, she and Helen visited Shrigley Hall Hotel and Spa for a relaxing spa session. In a throwback to the olden days, Dad went to collect them at the end of the evening. What did the spa session entail? As far as I could discern, consuming two bottles of wine between them and spending time in the pool. When I arrived, the Sun was about to set, and I realised what a great setting this place was.

I should be ashamed but I’m not. I consumed the TimTams that Helen brought over for me very quickly. ‘Just one more’ says my evil brain far too often. What’s brown and invisible? No TimTams.

And as May drew to a close and the curtains opened on June, someone reminded me that we’re only six months away from Christmas. Yes, maybe, but we don’t need to know that, thank you very much!

Liesel and I took a bus into Manchester and ate a meal at The Allotment, a vegan eatery. They brought an entirely new vegan experience to the table. The service was a little slow maybe, but the food was good. Me, being me, I did begin to panic that we wouldn’t get to the theatre in time, but we did.

We returned to The Royal Exchgange Theatre to watch No Pay? No Way!, by Dario Fo, originally produced in the 1970s, during an earlier economic crisis. This furious and feisty political comedy is an urgent exploration of our global economic reality, says the blurb. It was very funny and some of the dialogue rings true today, in 2023.

And so the day came to get my phone fixed. The technician arrived early and very quickly gave me the bad news. It could not be repaired. Whoever took the phone apart last time had used the wrong kind of glue, and this had leaked onto the motherboard. You’re going to have to get a new phone. That was exactly what I didn’t want him to say. Apart from anything else, I won’t be going back to that tech shop in Northenden again, and I recommend you don’t either. Just because we’d had good service there before doesn’t mean we will now, with different owners.

Meanwhile, Liesel had gone for a nice long walk with the WI at Lindow Common near Wilmslow.

Obviously, I hadn’t planned to go shopping for a phone, so I hadn’t done any research. But I decided to stick with Samsung, so Liesel and I visited The Trafford Centre. Liesel did some other shopping while I pestered Suresh in the Samsung Shop. Some of the information went over my head, but eventually, I made my choice. Its colour? Awesome violet. It’s a bit scary buying an expensive item such as this on the spur of the moment, but it doesn’t happen very often. Thank goodness.

It took over an hour for the process of copying everything over from the old to the new phone. Well, not quite everything. Over the course of the weekend, I noticed some weird omissions. I spent a lot of time over the weekend making sure all my home pages resembled my old, familiar layout, as much as possible. And as Suresh said, I had to sign in again to most of the apps.

Something I couldn’t carry over were the winning streaks from a couple of my daily puzzles: Nerdle and Full Rainbow.

Earlier in the week, I’d prepared two radio shows, one for this week, Walls, and one for next week, Parks, because we’ll be away next week, hooray!

But having a new, reliable phone definitely trumps that.

Newburn to East Wallhouses

It will take a while to adapt to these early starts. No lie-ins for a while. Our breakfast girl was very friendly and bonny and we fueled up well before setting off for Day 2.

Tyne Riverside Country Park was very quiet, apart from the birds and the wind rustling through the trees. Yes, we heard the odd loud vehicle, but that didn’t detract from our enjoyment of the countryside and the fresh air.

A lot of the path was along a disused railway line, so very straight for long periods.

Every now and then, we caught a glimpse of a bright yellow field, rapeseed. Glimpse? The yellow flowers just draw your gaze, they’re so bright.

We encountered our first serious hills today too. Nothing too onerous, I just find a rhythm and stick to it, until I have to stop or change my pace. I think we all have our optimum speeds on different terrain, but on the whole, our group of five stuck together very well.

Heddon-on-the-Wall: I wonder why it was so-called? We followed a sign and snuck behind a hedge and saw the first secton of Roman Wall that we knew to be genuine. This was an exciting moment for us!

One thing they’re not short of in the north of England is sheep.

Lots of lambs, and a surprising number of twins, as far as we could see. Sometimes though, the sheep looked a bit other-worldly.

At the risk of repeating myself, the views were spectacular today.

But never mind the views of the landscape, one thing I noticed was that in just two days, Tammy had gone through five different hairstyles. And while we ate dinner later on, a sixth one, a French plait executed by Jyoti, was on display!

It rained very slightly and ponchos and raincoats and backpack covers were deployed. Thankfully, it didn’t last long and we arrived at our final destination for the day, the Robin Hood Inn at East Wallhouses.

Our tired and achy bodies enjoyed a drink and a meal before taking to bed early.

As the week went on, the walking days became longer, and so I neglected this blog. I will catch up properly when we get home.

I know you’ll want to know about this week’s broadcast Wythenshawe Radio show, which I recorded a long time ago now, or so it seems. The theme was,of course, Walking and you can listen right here.

The same guy that served us last night brought our breakfasts this morning. I don’t think he has a home to go to. But he did very kindly take a group photo for us outside the Robin Hood Inn.

Thanks Tammy for the picture!

Most of the walk that day followed a main road, the B6318, so traffic noise was a potential problem. But in the end, it wasn’t such a big deal. The path stayed close to the road, with a wall or something separating us. It was sometimes muddy, sometimes grassy, and on the whole, much more comfortable to walk on for long stretches than the road itself.

To be continued…

Northenden to Newcastle to Newburn

One day to go before our next Big Adventure and I spent a couple of hours prepping the next radio show. I’ll be away from the Home Studio for a while and I’ll only have a small window of opportunity to finish it before the deadline. Apart from that, packing the right amount of stuff was the order of the day.

We’re going for a long walk so of course, this was the perfect opportunity to buy a new pair of trainers. It’s not the done thing to go on a major hike with shoes not yet fully worn in, but the old ones are probably a bit too worn out. But I found a pair in the shop that felt comfortable straightaway. Result!

Later on, Liesel dropped Jyoti and me off at Quarry Bank Mill where we had a very pleasant, relaxed wander around the gardens, down by the river Bollin.

Yes, the rhododendrons were out in force, and combined with the sunshine, our mood was lifted several notches on the happiness scale.

We had a look around the Mill itself too, and all its machinery. We’re so lucky that neither of us have ever had to work in such a hostile environment. But what amazing technological and engineering accomplishments from 200 years ago. Just to turn a few plants into tea towels.

Engineers make things that ‘work’ and make things ‘work better’. In the past Quarry Bank relied on the engineering brilliance of a few key men. Today, anyone can be an engineer. You just need to be able to think is a certain way. There are six habits that engineers all share:
Engineers work out what problem they want to solve
Engineers look for patterns and what connects things rather than just focusing on the smaller details
Engineers adapt and change, learning from what happens when they try things out
Engineers are creative, whether working on their own or with other people
Engineers imagine what the end result might look like
Engineers tinker. They test, try, improve and experiment!
There is an engineer in all of us.

What an inspiring sign for budding engineers.

In the evening, we all enjoyed a comedy night at Northenden Theatre, just up the road.

Dawn Bailey, Big Lou, Pauline Ayer, Bella Humphries

The MC was ‘Big Lou’ Jones, who I’ve seen before, and the other comedians to look out for in the future were Pauline Ayer, Bella Humphries, Dawn Bailey and Chris Oxenberry. They were all very funny but I only remembered to take pictures of four out of the five. And how nice to see a majority of female performers, yet sad that even now in the 21st century, it’s so unusual, it has to be commented on.

Late to bed, early to rise, makes a man tired. We had to rise early as a taxi was taking us to the coach station in Manchester. There was of course a spate of last-minute packing, and as usual, we were in that limbo between taking too much stuff and leaving something vital behind.

The cab driver was very fast. Well, he slowed down for speed cameras and sometimes stopped for red lights. Liesel felt nauseous and opened the window in case she needed to throw up. But we arrived in one piece, walked from the coach station to the temporary bus stop down the road, via Manchester’s Gay Village, and enjoyed a much more leisurely ride on the National Express to Newcastle.

I slept for a bit, did some puzzles, read my book but didn’t listen to any podcasts, which I’d come prepared to do. Overall, an uneventful coach ride but the highlight was passing by the Angel of the North.

This work of art by Antony Gormley has only been standing there for a quarter of a century but this is the closest we’ve been to it. So far.

In Newcastle, we had a 15-minute walk to our accommodation for the night. The first landmark we saw was St Mary’s Cathedral.

But, carrying heavy bags, we didn’t pay a visit. The second landmark was the iconic Tyne Bridge. Google Maps insisted that we’d arrived at our destination but it was wrong. The Premier Inn was down below. A reminder that Google Maps isn’t very helpful in the third dimension. The other thing that surprised us was the number of gulls all around the bridge. What a racket!

The third landmark was The Sage, Gateshead, over the river. It’s designed to look like three ships approaching in the fog, and I’m sure one day, we’ll go to a concert there.

We couldn’t check in yet, so we left our bags behind the desk, and went for a walk along the river. So many choices of food on offer, and what a great atmosphere.

Jyoti, Liesel and I did visit Newcastle’s other Cathedral, drawn in by the sound of organ music. Later, a boy’s choir started to sing, a wonderful noise and a reminder to me that I’m not really choir material, no matter how polite the other members of Northenden Choir might be to my face

Here are the colourful Maddisons that stand out in scarlet, blue and gold. Medieval St Nicholas’ Church once shone with colour, before the Reformation dictated plain stone and bare walls for churches.

Wealthy coal merchant Lionel Maddison paid for this memorial to his parents, Elizabeth and Henry, in the 1630s, Lionel was an alderman, sheriff and mayor, like his father before him. He was involved in Newcastle’s two wealthiest Companies – the Merchant Adventurers and Hostmen.

Our luck was in as we enjoyed a photography exhibition here in the cathedral too. Peter Marlow has taken pictures of all 42 of England’s cathedrals, and these photos were on display here. So of course, I had to take a picture of Guildford Cathedral while visiting Newcastle Cathedral.

I had a nice chat with someone who volunteers at this Cathedral, who has walked Hadrian’s Wall several times, who comes from Aberdeen but now considers themselves total Anglikised (sic).

The three of us crossed the Millennium Bridge, walked along the river and back over the Swing Bridge. This was of course all good training for the start of our long hike the following day.

At the hotel we met our fellow walkers from the USA, Teresa and her sister Tammy. I’d met Teresa before, in Portland, and she hasn’t changed a bit.

A personal recommendation took us to Träkol, by the By The River Brew Co. Thanks, Ross! We had a very nice meal, the four American ladies each choosing lamb, while I enjoyed a nut roast. The whole place is built inside old shipping containers, but you can’t really tell once you’re inside.

Our hotel room looked out over the Tyne Bridge, but here’s an unusual sight.

Yes, it’s a hotel window that you can actually open. Not too wide, mind, otherwise them pesky gulls might fly in.

The routine for the next few days is that we have breakfast, and we have to have our bags ready by 9.00am. Then some haulage fairies will take those bags to our next stop. We can walk with just the bare necessities for the day.

We could have walked to the start point of the Hadrian’s Wall Walk, or Hadrian’s Way, but we chose to take a taxi instead. It was only about three miles, but it seemed much longer in the cab, knowing we’d be walking back again!

The Roman soldier at Segundum Bath House and Fort, at Wallsend, wished us well on our travels and we set off in a mainly westerly direction. The weather was perfect, and we made good time. Actually, in hindsight, I wonder if we set off a bit too fast to start with, we ended up with various aches and pains.

This first day wasn’t too hilly, but it was a hard surface all the way. We were looking our for the iconic bridges far too early, well, maybe that was just me!

On one path, we saw a couple of discarded supermarket trolleys. As Liesel remarked, if this were Manchester, they would have been in the river by now. In any case, one of our party decided to have an easy ride.

Jyoti, Teresa and Tammy (in the trolley)

On this day, we never deviated far from the river Tyne. And the route itself was well signposted. It was Hadrian’s Walk at this point, because there’s not really a lot of the Wall to see. But from the next day, we would see the occasional section of well-preserved Roman wall.

I can’t remember who first noticed it and yelled ‘Bridge ahoy’, but we soon found ourselves back in Newcastle. It was canny to see wor old bridgey friends again. Picking up the lingo.

Last night, we’d been talking about Costco. So imagine our surprise when we actually saw one today. What a shame it was on the other side of a very wide river with no bridge nor ferry in sight! (Or, what a relief!)

We saw some bits of old wall, but weren’t convinced they were older than Victorian. Still, we can dream.

To bring us back to real life and remind us of more recent history, we passed this memorial in Scotswood.

In memory of the 38 men and boys who tragically lost their lives in the Montagu View Pit Disaster on 30th March 1925, when an inrush of water from a burst seam flooded the mine shaft. The pit was finally closed on 13th November 1959

The pitman, pony and tank depict our past heritage. The house represents the present regeneration of our community. The children are our future.

The official unveiling took place on 9th June 2012 by Councillor Hazel Stephenson and children from Scotswood Village Nursery, Scotswood Village Playgroup and Bridgewater School. The children and local community were involved in the design. The sculpture was made by Xceptional Designs.

In Remembrance of “Men of Steel”.

We stopped for a late lunch at Healthworks Lemington Centre. Jyoti fulfilled her dream, finding a scone with clotted cream. I think we all realised we should have stopped sooner for a break. Various muscles ached but the break helped a lot.

Just a quick (-ish) jaunt to our final destination for the day and we nearly had our first disaster.

Jyoti went down to the river and from where I was standing, it looked like she was in the river. Hence the photo. But then she dropped something, and I assumed it had fallen into the water. Big sighs of relief all round when the phone was picked up from solid ground.

I don’t think I’d heard of the Battle of Newburn Ford before, but we came across a memorial to it with a very good description of the events leading up to it. And it all boils down to religion, of course.

And look, the sky is still blue, a nice way to complete our first day. We stayed at The Keelman’s Lodging, Newburn, after 11 miles and in my case, over 32,000 steps. There’s a micro-brewery here that we didn’t take advantage of, on this occasion.

After confirming that none of us fell foul of the rules, we dined well. Unsure of what dessert to have, Jyoti decided on a bowl of custard.

Yes, an Olympic-size pool of custard. And look at that bloke next to her, concentrating hard on his rhubarb crumble.

The night ended too soon, we could have done with a little more sleep, but we met up early for a hearty breakfast before beginning Day 2 of our hike.

Thanks, Mancs and Diolch, Cymru

I missed the Coronation of Queen Elizabeth II on account of not being born yet. The Coronation of King Charles III was on TV in the background while I was doing other things, such as writing and looking out of the window and making coffee. I didn’t really go out and buy a hat as previously suggested. But Liesel and Jyoti went out shopping and missed most of the so-called Event of the Year.

King Charles and Queen Camilla on the balcony of Buckingham Palace

Liesel collected her new prescription sunglasses from Didsbury, and while they were in the village, she and Jyoti bought treats for me (and for themselves). So we had scones for breakfast on Sunday morning, with clotted cream and jam and no arguments about which to put on first.

Our walk through Kenworthy Lane Woods on Saturday afternoon was uneventful, no moose nor bear encounters.

No matter how careful you are, you (or is it just me?) always end up with sticky fingers after eating anything where jam is involved.

With our energy levels suitably boosted, we took a bus into Manchester. And yes, of course we saw the back end of a bus disappear up the road as soon as we turned the corner, walking towards the bus stop. Yesterday, when Liesel and Jyoti walked to the village, I said I’d catch up and, for the first time ever, a bus arrived at the bus stop just as I got there, so I boarded it, overtook the ladies, travelled as far as the next stop, disembarked and met them.

Liesel and I enjoyed showing Jyoti the sights of Manchester including the Central Library, although it seemed to be closed. So we mooched around the Art Gallery for a while.

You can just see Jyoti’s reflection to the left of the golden monkey, who sits on top of a large urn made by top artist Grayson Perry, and he wasn’t afraid of incorporating images of his own face throughout the design.

In a few galleries, several objects are on display as if they are in storage, still in crates, and grouped together in unorthodox ways, such as by material, by object type, by size, rather than by country of origin or by artist.

Some works of art make us laugh for the wrong reason. For instance, this pot of kitchen utensils is very similar to one we have at home.

Work of art and Liesel’s version at home

One of the coolest items was a dress make up from 43 kg of dress pins.

I tried to count the pins, but someone interrupted and I lost count at about 13,000 and I wasn’t even up to the waist.

By accident, we ended up at Gooey, a cake and cookie shop that Liesel was aware of and which she’s been lusting after for a long time. We bought doughnuts and after enjoying mine, overflowing with raspberry jam, I vowed never to look at a Krispy Kreme donut again. And yes, my fingers were sticky.

We paid a quick visit to the Cathedral where we witnessed a small band rehearsing, including a harp player. I’ve never been that close to a harp but I resisted the temptation to wander over and have a pluck. I don’t think Liesel would have let me, anyway, never mind the harpist.

We walked towards Castlefield Viaduct, passing a few places of interest, such as what’s left of the old Roman Wall. Rather than sit on this historical artefact, Jyoti chose to sit on the sheep. A premonition, maybe.

It was a first visit to the Viaduct for Liesel and Jyoti, and I hadn’t visited since I went with Pauline and Andrew last Summer. It has matured since then, many of the plants are now in full bloom and some of the beds are even overgrown.

As you leave, you’re surprised to see yourself in a reflective surface. You’re supposed to reflect on what you’ve seen, the flowers, the local communities and groups that have contributed to the project, the plight of the world what with climate change and all that, but all I could think of was, I look a bit distorted in that mirror.

A quick pitstop at the Museum of Science and Industry was followed by the slog back to the bus stop. Our pedometers confirmed that we’d far exceeded our 10,000 steps today, so the sit down on the bus back to Northenden was very welcome. We dined out at Chennai Dosa before making our way home.

I had a few little admin jobs to do on the computer before packing for a few days away. We d drove off and on a long section of road, we watched as several thousand vehicles were returning from their long weekend away, it was a bank holiday, and they may have all gone to Wales to escape the Coronation. Yes, Wales, that’s where we went, Snowdonia to be precise. Liesel had booked a National Trust Cottage just up the road from Craflwyn Hall. Why this area? Many years ago, Liesel and I enjoyed a Bicycle Beano cycling holiday there during the course of which I undoubtedly had a whinge about the hills. Especially the ones that go up.

Bwthyn Mai is a cute little cottage: most of the pictures on the walls are William Morris prints from an old exhibition at The Victoria and Albert Museum, the bedrooms are on the top floor, the bathroom on the middle floor, the living room and kitchen down below. Yes, it was built on a hill, a long, long time ago. The doors and floorboards squeak a symphony as you walk around.

And outside, we can watch the sheep as they upturn furniture, take shelter under the picnic table, rub their bums against the fences and gate posts, we can witness the lambs barging into their mums for a quick feed, and generally gambol like sheep do. Jyoti took many, many pictures of sheep. And I took a couple too.

The only downside to this accommodation, to the wider area as we discovered, is that there is no 4G coverage, and our cottage has no WiFi either. Not a problem, I thought, but as time went on, we all realised how dependent we’d become on having access to the internet. Someone had left me a WhatsApp message but I was unable to acknowledge it for a couple of days. We couldn’t quickly check the weather forecast. When faced with a problem or a question, the first thing we think is, I’ll just Google it. Can’t do that. When reading a book on my Kindle, if I want to look up a new word, I just click on it and it tells me via a dictionary or via Wikipedia. Similarly if I want to remind myself about a certain character, just touch the name and it tells me. Not now I’m out in the sticks. What’s the news? Probably the same old depressing nonsense but we shall remain in blissful ignorance.

From my point of view, the worst thing was the possibility of losing my winning streaks on a couple of puzzles that I do every day. This really is a ridiculous first-world problem I know, but this is how tangled our lives have become with the many tentacles of the internet. And I haven’t even mentioned Twitter, Instagram and email yet. Who’s been communicating with me?

On the other hand, what a great opportunity to get away from the modern e-world for a few days. Except, everywhere we go, we’re checking for a 4G or even a 3G signal, and whether shops, cafés, galleries have WiFi.

I asked Liesel whether she fancied a game of chess on this board in the gardens of Craflwyn Hall but she politely declined, which is fair enough: she doesn’t know how to play.

Liesel and Jyoti set off for a walk and I followed a little later. The path was steep, rocky and damp, it had rained a lot overnight.

After lunch, Liesel drove us to Rhyd Ddu from where there is a trail leading to the summit of Yr Wyddfa which is the new (old original) name for Snowdon. It started off as a well made path, no water running down this one, and yes, of course, walking up a mountain, it’s going to be steep. Liesel and Jyoti climbed a lot further than I did because, annoyingly, I had to stop due to my old shortness-of-breath issue. Maybe I should have trained longer and harder up hills, not the flat plains of Northenden. Maybe I should have persevered on an inclined treadmill at the gym. In any case, I had to stop and sit on a rock for a while, soak up some sunshine and convince my body that it can manage.

It was a beautiful day, though, no complaints there. I walked back to the car park, slowly: it took a ridiculous amount of time before my breathing was back to normal.

Rhyd Ddu is a station on the railway line between Caernarfon and Porthmadog. While pottering about, listening to the birds, I heard the whistle from a train in the distance. I also saw a red dragon on the platform.

Eventually, the train that had been tooting arrived at Rhyd Ddu and I took a few pictures of the engine.

At which point, my phone died. No internet and now, no phone, no camera, no more pictures today, then. So I missed getting photos of the second train as it arrived from the opposite direction. Many people disembarked maybe with the intent of hiking some of the way up to the summit of the mountain. No pictures of them either, some dressed like me, in t-shirt and shorts, some with several layers of waterproofs and a full backpack including a tent.

Liesel, Jyoti and I met up and compared notes, especially regarding tired aching calves. After dinner, we turned the TV on and Jyoti and I watched the first semi-final of the Eurovision Song Conest. The whole event is new to Jyoti and semi-finals are a new experience for me. A good nights sleep should have been a dead cert.

The weather didn’t look so good in the morning. Aches and pains determined that we should therefore have a bit of a rest day. Last night, a sheep had a fight with one of the benches outside. The bench lost, and we found it with its legs in the air. One of the sheep was limping and we wondered whether he was the one who beat up the furniture.

We drove to the nearest town, Beddgelert, where we resisted the temptation to have an ice cream. We did buy postcards and stamps and other cards and pottered about a bit. Outside the church, St Mary’s, we saw a well-preserved gravestone for a William Parry and I wondered whether he was a local hero of some description.

Many scenes for the film Inn of the Sixth Happiness, starring Ingrid Bergman, Curt Jurgens and Burt Kwouk were filmed in the area in 1958. I wonder if this explains the presence of this Chinese dragon which is stylistically very different to Welsh dragons.

Bridge over the river Colwyn in Beddgelert

There was a touch of mizzle in the air and at one point Jyoti commented that she couldn’t understand why I didn’t put a coat on. Well, it wasn’t raining that hard and I didn’t feel cold. I said that, equally, I couldn’t understand how she could keep taking her coat off and putting it back on every time the temperature changes by a degree or two!

We’d been through Betws-y-Coed before, on the occasion of our cycling holiday, so we knew it was a (relatively) big, busy place. Liesel came up with the idea of parking outside the town and walking in. And what a great decision that was because we saw a wonderful heron down by the riverside.

We found a place to eat by the railway station and looked forward to using their WiFi to catch up with some totally unimportant stuff. So imagine the heart-wrenching disappointment when we saw this on the wall.

The food was great though, especially the Victoria sponge. On this beautiful day, we should maybe have done a tour of the the local waterfalls, since they are so well signposted.

Liesel confessed to her love of bridges, so we walked to Sappers Suspension Bridge, but it’s not open to the public at the moment. Further along the road, (and who would have guessed that we’d ever be walking along the A5?) we saw Waterloo Bridge, a small edifice compared with its namesake in London, but so called because it was first built in the same year as the Battle of Waterloo, 1815.

Even though this was supposed to be more of a rest day following the exertions of all the climbing yesterday, we still did a lot of walking.

Deciding where to visit on our final whole day in Wales was hard, so much depends on the weather and of course, we can’t look up a weather forecast because we have no internet. In the end, we drove to Beddgelert Forest where we planned to walk to around a lake. Well, we never did find the lake. The trail was marked but somehow all three of us, I think, missed a vital pointer so we ended up well off course. But it doesn’t matter, we enjoyed the walk, the views, the weather, the fresh air, the birdsong and the fact that there were very few other hikers, cyclists and no horseriders at all. The forest itself is very lush, so many different greens from olive to almost dayglow.

Once we realised we were off course, we decided instead to follow the trail into Beddgelert itself. It was a much more pleasant experience than one of our earlier plans which was to walk from the Forest car park to the village along the road, with no footpath. We lost count of the number of streams and rivulets. It’s a very wet forest but today, we were lucky to be out in the sunshine, and the threatening grey clouds never came too close.

We’ve been wondering which peak was in fact Snowdon, Yr Wyddfa, and today a very helpful sign showed us. What a shame the actual summit was shrouded in cloud!

We had lunch at the Prince Llewelyn public house in Beddgelert, grateful for the opportunity to sit down for a while after quite a long walk. Oh, and they weren’t afraid to let us use their WiFi so I caught up on a few things, nothing of any importance of course.

Before setting off for the car, retracing our steps, we had an ice cream. What a joy to be sitting in warm sunshine eating an ice cream.

I heard a dog barking and a man telling it to be quiet. Round the corner, and we saw a flock of sheep in the road.

The man had two dogs that very skilfully herded the sheep through a gate. I thought it was unusual to hear a sheep dog being so vocal, though.

Finding another cute little bridge, I thought it would be rude not to take a picture of it for Liesel. So here she is, with Jyoti, about to walk across it.

By the time we found our car in the car park, we had walked over 20,000 steps, so probably between 8 and 9 miles. Very good training for what we’ll be doing next week. My body behaved much better than yesterday. I found my rhythm and walked up a very long hill and was hardly out of breath when I got to the top, a totally different sensation to the shortness-of-breath episode I’d had yesterday.

Back at our cottage, we had some coffee then supper and in the evening, Jyoti and I enjoyed the second semi-final of the Eurovision Song Contest. I now realise what I’ve been missing for several years!

A good night’s sleep was interrupted by a very early rise and an early departure. One aspect of the cottage that I didn’t mention was the beam in the room.

I must have banged my head on it a thousand times over the course of four days, thus keeping Liesel fully entertained. How I can bang my head, utter ‘ouch’, glance down, forget the beam’s there, stand up and bang my head again so many times is a question that will only be answered by the pathologist who dissects my brain post mortem.

The day back at home was quiet, I worked on a radio show, processed the week’s accumulated mail (one item) and in the evening, we met up with the family for dinner at a pub called The Pointing Dog. Martha was but a small baby when she last met Jyoti but what a fab reunion.

As mentioned a couple of times, this is Eurovision Song Contest week, and the competition is being held in Liverpool, on behalf of Ukraine, last year’s winner, and we’ve had a lot of coverage on TV and radio. So of course, my own show on Wythenshawe Radio has a Eurovision theme, and you can catch up with it here.

Oh and by the way, I didn’t lose my winning streaks on the puzzles that I do every day, just because there was no internet access. It seems that if you don’t or can’t attempt the puzzle one day, that doesn’t count against you. Phew, I am so relieved.

And, as I discovered after we returned home, the Wikipedia entry on the Welsh Red Dragon is a fascinating read. Highly recommended.

I could find no evidence that the William Parry whose gravestone we found was a celebrity in any way. But Parry is a very common name in the Beddgelert area, certainly in the graveyard.

One out, one in

All good things come to an end and such was the case with Leslie’s visit. We took her as far as we could, Security at the airport and she then enjoyed (?) an uneventful series of flights back home to Anchorage. Where, unbelievably, there was one more, final snow flurry before, maybe, possibly, Alaskans can finally bid farewell to a very long Winter.

Liesel’s been a fan of Duran Duran for most of her life and we had tickets to see them in concert many years ago but we didn’t make the show on that occasion due to indisposition: this was well before the days of Covid.

So imagine the delight on Liesel’s cute little face when she found out that they were playing in Manchester within two weeks. In a rare moment of spontaneity, she booked tickets for us, and so it was, we found ourselves in Manchester on a Saturday night, visiting the Arena for the very first time. In general, we try to avoid large stadiums, other than Hyde Park, but we had a very good time.

Before the show, we found something to eat and, eventually, somewhere to eat it! Not many flat surfaces (aka tables) to sit at or even stand by, given the place has a capacity of 20,000 and presumably, most of them want to nosh on something before the show.

There were two support acts, both of whom seemed very excited and pleased to be supporting Duran Duran.

Lia Lia is German Chinese but some of her dance moves were, we thought, Japanese influenced. And yes, we were quite a long way back so no there was realistic possibility of close-up pictures on this occasion.

The next guy seemed familiar and it took a while before it clicked: in his shiny silver suit was Jake Shears from Scissor Sisters.

The best I could do from a photographic point of view was to wait for a close-up to appear on the TV screen. He was very energetic and he knew the audience wanted him to sing some old Scissor Sisters songs as well as his own.

And then the moment Liesel’s been waiting for for forty years: Duran Duran. Their show was very visual and amongst all their big hits, they performed some new songs, both genuinely new and some just new to me.

I think it’s fair to say the conditions for me to take pictures with my phone were less than optimal! Some of the stage lighting was so bright, I had to look away and then blink away the green blobs before my eyes.

In the olden days of course, all these lights would have been cigarette lighters. We welcome the reduced fire hazard, but what a strange custon, when you think about it, to illuminate your phone’s flashlight just because a particular song is being played.

As advised, after the show, we didn’t rush to leave, and it was about 45 minutes before we were able to leave the car park. If we ever visit the Arena again, I think we’ll be going by public transport. Or at least, parking down the road in a totally unrelated car park.

Manchester Victoria Station as seen from the car park roof

The day after the gig the night before was quite relaxed. Did we go out at all? Probably, briefly. But the following day we went for a really long walk, towards Sale Water Park, mostly along the river. In places, the bank is being reinforced. And near Sale as with Didsbury, the paths beside the river are in a much better state of repair than those in Northenden.

It was nice to see so many ducks out and about, and especially nice to see this heron.

To be honest, I’m not sure this is a real heron perched up there on a gate post, its eye looks a bit googly. We stopped for a break at a pub, where we had a plate of chips each. Perfect preparation for the wander back home.

Some of the gardens in Northenden are now beginning to show the results of all the occupants’ hard work.

For the first time in many, many years, I watched some of the final of the World Snooker Championship from The Crucible Theatre in Sheffield. I watched it on TV, of course, I didn’t schlep all the way over there to Sheffield. Luca Brecel from Belgium won for the first time, becoming only the fourth non-UK player to become World Champion. And some of his shots appeared to defy the laws of physics, he might be some kind or wizard or something.

One of the most exciting sightings of the week was in Wythenshawe Park, we we saw a peacock butterfly. Lovely to see one, but it would be so much nicer if there were flocks of them like we used to see.

I approached very slowly but even so, it flew away before I could get a close-up. Maybe I should just get a zoom lens for my phone. Or even, as I keep saying, take out my real camera.

I showed Liesel the bench, commissioned by Netflix and Campaign Against Living Miserably, as featured in the TV series After Life. As we walked away, this chubby little robin came to say hello. We think he’s a very young one, and hopefully he’ll look better when he sorts his feathers out.

Did it feel strange, now, just being the two of us? Well, yes. Leslie didn’t join us for many really long walks, but it doesn’t take long to adapt to having a third party join us, out and about while she was here. And now there were two. But not for long.

Just a few days after Leslie returned home, we were joined by Jyoti. After not sleeping for the duration of her flights, needless to say she was a bit tired. But we all went for a brisk walk to Fletcher Moss Park.

From the boardwalks near the park, we spotted a thousand tadpoles in the water below.

And on the way home, we saw more ducks in the river including a family of ducklings. Another encouraging sign that Spring is here.

After a jolly good night’s sleep, Jyoti and Liesel were raring to go for another long walk. After a false start, when we got as far as the landing before it started raining, Liesel and I retraced our steps, more or less, towards Sale Water Park, this time with Jyoti. On this occasion, en route, we walked around Chorlton Water Park, just to get a few extra steps in. I rescued a small beetle from Liesel’s shoulder, and it sat on my finger for the whole circumnavigation of the lake.

We revisited Jackson’s Boat for lunch and then wandered back to Northenden on the other side of the river. And what a good day for bird watchers. More ducks of course, plus a ring-necked parakeet and even a great tit. But on the river itself:

In the evening, I went to Tea and Talk at Benchill Community Centre where a few people from Factory Internatioanl were doing work in and for the community, as well as telling us about Manchester International Festival. I wasn’t expecting a meal but that was very welcome, and it was good to see some people I knew.

The room was decorated in preparation for the Coronation. Lots of red, white and blue plus posters of the new king who I pretended not to recognise.

Which is an amazing coincidence, because my Wythenshawe Radio show this week was inspired by the Coronation. Two hours of songs about or by Kings and Queens. You can pay homage here.

Terrific Pacific

After a relaxing day, we drove into Manchester. Time for a gig. We throughly enjoyed the performance by O’Hooley and Tidow at a fantastic venue, new to us, Hallé St Peters. The show was to promote their new record, Cloudheads, but of course, we’re special, and we received our CD, signed, a couple of weeks ago.

We found seats just four rows from the front and before the show proper began, we were digging the music, man, songs by Rodriguez, whose story is interesting but quite sad, really.

Belinda O’Hooley and Heidi Tidow sang songs old and new, told funny stories, and the audience was spellbound. Nobody was chatting and apart from a couple of glasses being kicked over after the interval, there was no disruption.

I had a quick chat with Belinda in the interval, told her I’d played their records on my show, and when I told her my name, Mick, she knew my surname straightaway. I’m not quite on the A-list, but getting there!

I received my postal vote: there are local elections in May. I knew who I was going to vote for, and, given all the election literature I’ve seen so far, I was beginning to think there was only one candidate standing. So what a surprise to see some others on the ballot paper. I was tempted but in the end, I didn’t vote for Sir Oink A-Lot, of The Official Monster Raving Loony Party, because, well, I’m not entirely sure he’s taking it very seriously.

In our local church, St Wilfrid’s, there was another celebration of Sir Edward Watkin. I paid Geoff for the book of his I’d bought a few nights ago and he told me about a painting that had hung at Rose Hill for many years. Someone wanted to sell it for charity, expecting to raise about £100. In the end, it was valued at £4 million.

Sir Edward funded some of the stain glass windows in the church, and they are indeed very bright, even on a cloudy grey day such as this was.

The Millennium Banner was obviously a labour of love. The wall hanging which stretches along one side of the church was made in 1999, mostly by members of the Women’s Group, to mark the turning of the millennium. It shows scenes and motifs from the history of the previous 2000 years, some very local, others national, global or even cosmic. Spoiler alert: this is how it ends:

I’d gone along because The Edward Watkin Society, also known as WatSoc, had organised the week of events. On display here today were several letter sent from or to Sir Edward. The handwriting was beautiful, and neat, but very hard to read.

While talking to someone, my phone went off. “Is that your phone?” “I think it’s everyone’s phone” I replied, because all of a sudden, the room was full of alarms.

Severe Alert, said my phone

This is a test of Emergency Alerts, a new UK government service that will warn you if there’s a life-threatening emergency nearby.

In a real emergency, follow the instructions in the alert to keep yourself and others safe.

This is a test. You do not need to take any action.

Needless to say, I took no action. But, being Brits, we all rolled our eyes and tutted at the inconvenience.

So why was I here at the church by myself? Because Liesel and Leslie were travelling south to visit cousin Andi and Steve in Richmond. Andi I think particularly wanted to catch up with her Auntie Leslie.

One morning, Liesel got up early and went for a long solitary walk taking in Richmond Hill, Petersham Common and Richmond Park.

Terrace Gardens, Richmond, overlooking the river

They all visited Bushy Park too one day, where the deer wandered over to say hello.

Let’s return to the saga of my phone. To recap: I took my phone in to have its battery changed. That worked out OK. But, the fingerprint sensor no longer worked. I went back to the shop, he couldn’t get it to work, so ordered a new sensor. A couple of days later, the new sensor didn’t work either. I would have to leave my phone with him overnight so that some internal connection could be soldered. Couldn’t do it over the weekend because it was Eid.

So, as requested, I took my phone in on Monday with a view to collecting it the following day. It wasn’t ready. In fact, it wouldn’t be back until the next day. My doubts were now growing. I insisted I needed my phone that day. Tell me where it is, and I’ll go and collect it if necessary. He didn’t want to do that. He called someone and then told me to return in the afternoon. Good thing I didn’t have a job to go back to. He said if it wasn’t back by about 3pm, he’d deliver it to my address after closing time.

I felt a wave of relief when I picked up my phone in the afternoon. Fixed. The fingerprint sensor was now working. Where’s my case? I asked. What case? The protective case that I always keep my phone in. He couldn’t find it of course. I suspect it’s still at the other, top secret venue. So he gave me case off the shelf.

I didn’t pay for anything. By now, I was so peeved, I resolved never to darken his doors again. Whether incompetent or criminal, I don’t think I can trust him again. So much so, back at home, I checked the phone for malware. I also checked that no cash had been taken from any of the online bank accounts. He wouldn’t know my passwords, and he didn’t have my fingerprint, but, I have no idea how dodgy or technically agile he and his brother-in-law are.

Later, I realised the volume controls were no longer working. I use those to take screenshots and to take photos as well as adjusting the volume. I’ll be taking my device to a proper, qualified Samsung repair facility, where I’ll have to recite this whole sorry tale, probably.

Liesel and Mom returned but they didn’t join me for the the long Thursday walk. After which, at The Forum, I saw my mugshot on the noticeboard outside the radio studio.

At least one member of my family asked if this was a Wanted poster? Is there a reward?

And the excitement is building in the area as we approach Coronation Day.

I’ll probably tweet this nearer the time but when people ask whether I’ll be watching the Coronation on TV, I usually say “No, because, by coincidence, I’m going out to get a new hat that day too.”

The three of us did join the walking group on Friday though, for one final forced march, as Klaus would have said.

And, as it was Great Oma’s final day here in England, she treated us to a meal at a Japanese restaurant over there in Cheadle Hulme. Jenny and Liam brought a very excited but tired Martha and William. The children had been introduced to Japanese cuisine while in Australia over Christmas. Today, we all enjoyed our meals, even though for a long time, Martha and I were sitting in actual warm sunshine. Even Liesel was beginning to turn pink.

Once William got going, he demolished his plate of food, and both he and Martha are very happy with sticky rice, because it’s easier to eat with chopsticks!

This week, they celebrated ANZAC Day in Australia and New Zealand, and, by coincidence, that was the theme of my Wythenshawe Radio show this week. If you would like to catch up on two hours of Aussies and Kiwis singing for your pleasure, you are very welcome to listen here.

The Moon and Liverpool

Jodrell Bank is always good for a visit, and the grandchildren, astronauts of the future, had a great time there.

Martha later commented that the spacesuit wasn’t particularly comfortable. So let’s hope that when they do pay a visit to the Moon, the attire is more cosy.

Meanwhile, Liesel took her Mom to the coffee morning over in Didsbury. I met up with them at the pub after a very pleasant walk along the fast-flowing river. In the sunshine.

A spot of colour at Northenden Golf Club

The birds were enjoying the day, but there was no sign of a heron today. I had a cup of coffee before Liesel kindly drove me home again.

What else has Liesel been up to at home? Making bees via the medium of crochet. Sometimes, the colour of the yarn available doesn’t match the instructions, so she invents brand new species.

Or so we thought. Just a few days later, I happened to see this online and I thought, Liesel’s well ahead of the game.

Of course, these blue-banded bees are native to Australia and all I want to do now is go to Australia to see them in the flesh, in the wild.

Early one morning, Liesel and I wandered over to Fletcher Moss where we were the first customers at the café. Halfway through April and Spring still hasn’t come in fully. Its foot is in the door, but the cold wind from the north is still a reminder that Winter just doesn’t want to end.

In technical news, I took my phone to the local tech shop to have its battery replaced. That went well, my phone no longer goes from 15% charge to 0% in a few seconds. But, the fingerprint sensor no longer works. I returned to the shop and it seems the problem can only be resolved by soldering something deep in the bowels of the phone. Meanwhile, I have to type in a 4-digit passcode every time I want to use the phone, wasting almost a whole second on each occasion. Nightmare.

Northenden probably isn’t the most exciting place in the world, but one day, Palatine Road ground to a halt when it was blocked by a crane from the local building site.

There aren’t many puffins in Northenden, so it was a delight to see this one. I confess, it wasn’t here in real life, it was on the screen where I watched an Open University presentation and discussion about the TV series Wild Isles. This was the reason I didn’t go to the choir rehearsal this week. Actually, I’m not sure it’s for me, so I’m still thinking about whether to pursue that particular activity.

In another minor contribution to my fifteen minutes of fame, I appeared on Instagram in an advert for Boxx2Boxx.

This is the Wednesday walking group and Lois brought us our coffees and teas with a smile on her face and a spring in her step. And no spillages.

Liesel and I last visited Liverpool in 2009, I know, we should go more often. Well, we paid a visit this week, not to the city centre, but to Speke. We parked up at Speke Hall and joined a group for a tour of the childhood homes of John Lennon and Paul McCartney. I was hoping for a Magical Mystery Tour bus, but it was just an everyday 12-seater.

Both houses are presented as they would have been experienced by the young Beatles-to-be, including candlewick bedspreads very similar to what my sister and I were brought up with. The guides were very informative and, I assume, have to be a bit of a Beatles fan to go for those jobs.

We weren’t really allowed to take pictures inside the houses, but I couldn’t resist this crockery. It took me back to my first Saturday job at the Co-op, when amongst other duties, it was my job to unpack crockery from the crates it was delivered in. This was before the days of bubble-wrap, and the packing material was straw. Can you imagine the sneezing fits I had unpacking the plates and cups and saucers?

Paul’s house doesn’t have a blue plaque because he’s still alive. And, apparently, in any case, the blue plaque scheme has been discontinued in Liverpool, which is a shame. Nobody was brave enough to have a go on the piano in Paul’s front room, the room in which he and John wrote some of their first songs.

The bus took us back to Speke Hall and after a quick coffee and lunch, we had a look around the old house. There was an informative guide in each room, and some, in costume, haunted the house and told their own stories.

The ceiling ornamentation in some rooms reminded us of just how dull and boring the ceiling is in our luxury apartment.

The drive back home in the sunshine was uneventful, though we did have to cross back over the Mersey Gateway Bridge. The signs told us that we had until midnight the following day to pay the tolls. We didn’t know there were any tolls in England other than the M6, so that was a revelation. And lots of pressure not to forget to pay the fee in a timely manner.

Liesel and Leslie went off to the WI knitting group in the evening while I supported our local theatre here in Northenden. The presentation on Edward Watkin was good, the local lad did well for the people of Manchester, he was behind the Great Central Railway and he had a hand in establishing modern day Canada. He started digging the first channel tunnel, but didn’t get far.

Edward Watkin as played by Geoff Scargill

I couldn’t resist buying the book, written by Geoff Scargill so I’ve added that to the TBR pile.

The radio show this week featured songs that include at least an element of Whistling. So, if you like whistling along to songs, catch up here.