cycling – Mick and Liesel's Antics

Tour de Everyday Life

Bury Market was the venue for a grand WI day out. Liesel and Leslie had a good time, and they even came back with a famous Bury vegetarian black pudding, ideal for carb-loading before the next stage. I haven’t been to Bury since about 1976 when, on a day trip into Manchester, I lost my wallet. It was eventually found and returned by the police, but I’ve never used a proper wallet since then, preferring saddle-bags, whenever possible.

But I got to thinking: something you don’t see much of these days is celebrities with fried eggs on their collarbones. I wonder why?

Gulliver’s World Warrington was visited by our grandchildren and their parents, and they had a lot of fun. Does it compare with Disneyworld though? Well, Martha climbed her own Mont Ventoux, defying gravity.

Australia’s Hunter Valley was the venue for a weekend away for Helen and Brent and their team-mates. They had a good time too, despite the recent flooding.

Jacqui, Rob, Nat, Helen, Brent and a little one making a break for it

New Zealand was the destination for our newly-weds, nephew Rob and Cristy, all the way from Canada. Congratulations again! And indeed, châpeau!

Meanwhile, I was just freewheeling along, enjoying other people’s adventures and antics vicariously. Still fighting eBay and Freegle trying to get rid of stuff. Still cranking out the miles on foot around Northenden and beyond. Still attending more medical appointments than having hot carb-loaded dinners.

Summer arrived in style. We had a couple of heatwaves, just a few days when the temperature approached 30°, and of course, this made falling asleep harder than riding up Alpe d’Huez with a single-gear. So I reversed the polarity on our electric blankets so that, instead of warmth, they provided a nice cool sheet to lie on.

While Liesel joined the breakaway on an alternative walk with a different group of ladies, Leslie and I joined the usual Friday route which, in the end, was an even shorter stroll than usual. Due to intimidation by a peloton, a veritable herd of geese, we didn’t walk around the lake: we took a shortcut. And, yes, I do mean ‘herd’. This was not a small, harmless flock or gaggle of geese.

Over the weekend, we enjoyed some of the acts (I wonder what their riders were?) from Glastonbury and I think I am unanimous in thinking Pulp deserved the yellow jersey. I don’t know why some artists were so hard to find on the BBC iPlayer: the routemap was very badly marshalled.

The highlight of the weekend though was Martha and William’s school’s Summer Fair. We helped out of the raffle ticket stall. At one point, I gave William a fiver, asked him to fetch me a cup of tea from the feed station, and then he could keep the change. Quick as a flash, he retorted, “I’ll keep it all, then”. That’s my boy! In the end, there were no hot drinks available so I made do with a bidon, a bottle of water, in one gulp.

What a beautiful day and, to keep cool, a couple of teachers volunteered to be the target for wet sponges hurled by their pupils.

From the podium, Martha and her dramatic arts group put on a performance of songs from such musicals as Matilda and Beauty and the Beast.

You can drive around your neighbourhood many times and still see things you’ve not noticed before. I’m not sure whether this message is new, but Royal Mail as a business needs all the help it can get, right now.

As if the Glastonbury Festival didn’t have enough competition, this was also the weekend of the monthly Didsbury Makers Market. So, after bashing Himalayan balsam in Fletcher Moss Garden, with the WI, and without falling into the water, Liesel and Leslie made their way there. I joined them a bit later and was greeted with a piping hot samosa.

As we walked back to the car, we passed another vehicle which had lost a battle with a tree. Fair to say, it’s a DNF.

I hope nobody was inside when this happened.

I mentioned medical appointments earlier, and it is that time of year when I go for my annual sight test, in Didsbury. I arrived a bit early, so I thought I’d support the local economy by having a coffee in FFS, which must be a Front For Something. In the window, I was delighted to see this hand-painted portrait.

David Bowie with a fried egg on his collarbone

And of course, it’s always good to come across homespun philosophy in Didsbury.

There are many campaigns on right now, attempting to save the pollinators from extermination by pesticide. So I gave this bumble bee some words of encouragement from the roadside.

And now, the Tour de France is underway: it’s time to clear the calendar and settle in for three weeks of GC drama, solo breakaways, sprint finishes, and mountain massacres.

Forever Changes

It was a bright and sunny morning so I set off, on foot, towards Didsbury. The route that we dubbed ‘Dogshit Alley’ is a lot more overgrown than the last time I saw it. I must remember to take along some secateurs next time. I’ve said that before, I know. But I did buy some cheap ones to cut back whatever bush it is that grows above where we park our car and deposits tonnes of sticky sap all over our erstwhile pristine vehicle. They were cheap, not all that strong and I should buy a decent pair at a garden shop one day. A sticky car was not something I’d expected to come home to. But it was well worth a tenner to have it washed.

Where were we? Walking along what is now basically a tunnel on the way to the river.

The Riverside Residential Park now seems to consist of proper buildings rather than the caravans all up on stilts.

Recent floods have washed away part of the path and there are still barriers up preventing our passage. Well, with a bit of clambering, it’s quite easy to get by.

I made it to Fletcher Moss where I couldn’t help but notice a very big bee on a tree.

The reason I visited Fletcher Moss park, gardens, whatever, today, was to see the Didsbury Pop-up Cultural Market. I found it in the Parsonage Gardens. There were two stalls with artists displaying their paintings. Is that it, I wondered? Well, there were more arts and crafts on show indoors, in the actual parsonage, I guess. Lots of stuff, some well done, some should have stayed in a bottom drawer somewhere, but just stuff, really, and we don’t need any more stuff.

I tried to get a coffee from the machine but it refused to believe my phone was the source of my spending money, so even the coffee machine lost a customer that day!

I wandered through Didsbry village, nothing new there.

I hadn’t visited Marple Locks before but it was a good venue for a walk with Jenny, Liam and the children.

A narrowboat approached the lock and Martha and William were both keen to help open the gates.

We walked along the Peak Forest Canal for a while and in the end, completed a large loop. Glad I brought some water, but a bit disappointed there was no coffee shop halfway round.

It could have been a bit scary walking along the tallest masonry arch aqueduct in the UK, designed by Benjamin Outram and built between 1794 and 1800.

Marple Aqueduct is one hundred feet above the river Goyt, and we walked down the bank so that we could follow the river for a while. Martha spotted a frog trying to climb out of the water but as she leaned over to help, it panicked, dived and we haven’t seen it since.

William spotted some cows in a field that turned into horses as we approached more closely. So, for the rest of the day, cows and horses were always mis-identified.

We were above the Etherow, a tributary of the Goyt, part of which once formed the boundary between Cheshire and Derbyshire.

With two young, energetic and loud children with us, we were unlikely to see any interesting wildlife. Well, apart from horses that thought they were cows and cows that identified as horses. So here’s a nice family portrait instead.

This bridge has been restored fairly recently, to mark its 200th anniversary.

After finding our way back to Memorial Park, Marple, we had some fun in the playground. William also found a tree to climb. No health and safety considerations, no risk assessment, I blinked and there he was, twelve feet up in the branches.

Nearby in the park, we found some gym equipment. I had a go on some of it, but, er, let’s say I just hadn’t warmed up properly. I spent a couple of minutes on the stationary bike, burning a whole 7 calories, ‘riding’ 0.3 miles. That’ll do.

Not saying the children misbehaved at all, but, well, this is the sort of punishment they could appreciate.

Meanwhile, Liesel was having a good time in sunny Hope, Alaska.

On returning to Anchorage, Liesel packed, and she and her Mom caught the plane to Seattle, where they ate at the vegetarian place, Floret, before the long flight to Reykjavik and then the final leg to Manchester. This is where I met them. And what better way to celebrate their return to England than by going out for a meal at Zumuku with the family.

Both Martha and William had a jolly good shot at eating everything from the restaurant’s stock room. They’d need the energy for the next week or so in Disneyworld.

Sadly, and annoyingly, the Manchester sunshine was replaced by rain to coincide with Liesel’s return. So we had some soggy walks around Northenden.

As I was walking along, I heard the sound of horses behind me. As the empty hearse passed by, I was very tempted to tell the driver that the corpse had fallen out the back. But I resisted the urge.

The regular Thursday walk was well attended this week, but on Friday, there were just the three of us.

Liesel and Leslie are now, slowly, getting over their flight induced sleep deprivation and jet lag.

And in Florida, the grandchildren are having a Mouse of a time.

Gooses and Mooses

The family have been having a wonderful time at Disney World, enjoying the rides, the food and the exciting weather, thunder and lightning in between all the glorious sunshine. So here are a couple of final pictures from their trip.

Oh hang on, no, that’s not Disneyworld. That was Didsbury Festival. I’m sure there are no copyright issues here, and I am aware that Disney do have a team of very good, very expensive lawyers.

I should have walked over but in the end, I drove to Didsbury Festival and had a good look around. Apart from fairground rides, there were very many food and drink stalls. Several national organisations such as Greenpeace were represented, but I was more fascinated by the local groups. I said hello to Liesel’s WI mates. And I did think this group might have more calls on their time in Anchorage:

Liesel visited Talkeetna for a couple of days: it’s a long drive north of Anchorage. When we married, eighteen years ago, we had a party at Talkeetna Roadhouse. It’s tradition to leave a bottle top there on a door frame, and I’m pleased to say our Freixenet bottle top is still there, although our hand-written legend is faded.

Last year, there was no Women’s Tour of Britain Bicycle Race, but I’m glad to say it’s back, and I’ve been following it this week on ITV4 and via a podcast called On Yer Bike, hosted by my old friend Sanny Rudravajhala. The fourth and final stage took place in Manchester so I had to go along and support the riders.

I went by public transport, hoping to see the start and the end of the race, even if I didn’t witness the more challenging terrain along the 99 km route.

This picture shows how we dress for Summer in Manchester this year. Very few people in shorts and t-shirts, which would be my default dress code in June, which is supposed to be warm, after all.

Anyway, Manchester public transport. I left in very good time, but I still missed the start of the race at the National Cycle Centre. I heard the announcements from way over there, but I didn’t see anything. The bus got held up as a direct result of the roads being closed for the race, and the driver was reluctant to open the door and let us off. Jobsworth.

I did enjoy the musical entertainment though, provided by a group of drummers.

In fact, I recorded their rhythms and beats and I think this might become my new ringtone.

Oh well, I had plenty of time to get to Leigh to witness the end of today’s race. In fact, I had so much time, I thought I’d spend some of it in the Central Library. I wasn’t allowed in because it was closed, due to ‘an event’ which you had to book. What event? I have no idea. But, every cloud… I visited the café in the Art Gallery instead where I enjoyed one of their Cheese and Marmite scones.

As time went on, the rain worsened and I felt bad for the riders. The bus ride to Leigh was interesting. Part of the route takes the bus along a Guided Busway. What’s to stop cars driving along this former railway line? There are car traps, big holes, at road junctions.

I’ve never been to Leigh before, but I don’t suppose it’s always this cold and wet and miserable. Hooray, it was good to take shelter inside Spinning Gate shopping centre, but in a very British move, on a day when a big event is taking place in town, I noticed the public toilets were closed, as they always are, on a Sunday.

After the long, wet walk from the bus station to the sports centre, Leigh Sports Village, it was good to see so many spectators here. I found a spot 125 metres before the finishing line. I watched the race on the big TV screen but I was ready for the riders. Again, yes, I should have had a real camera.

The leading group were racing right up to the line, and in the end, it was quite a while before we discovered who’d won the stage. I think the announcer was building up excitement and expectations, but it worked, many of us, despite the downpour, stayed to watch the presentation ceremony. Ruby Roseman-Gannon won the stage and World Champion Lotte Kopecky won the overall Tour. Lizzie Deignan was Queen of the Mountains. I’m sure we’ll see all of them again at the Olympics.

Officials from British Cycling presented some of the awards, and they received a modicum of applause from the audience. Dame Sarah Storey takes the prize for the most support from the crowd, very loud cheers and lots of applause as she presented the prize to the Best Young Rider, Eline Jansen. Representatives from the sponsor, Lloyds Bank, well, they probably only expected half a dozen claps each from the crowd anyway.

Later on, I watched highlights of the race on TV and I was surprised and delighted to see my hat onscreen. Another small contribution to my fifteen minutes of fame.

News from abroad now. Jenny, Liam, Martha and William enjoyed their final day in Florida before returning home for work (boo) and for school (hmmm).

Meanwhile, in Alaska, Liesel was spotting some wildlife. By the lake in Talkeetna, a Mommy moose was looking after her twin calves.

I’ve known my friend Ruth for just about fifty years now, and it was lovely to meet up with her for the first time in at least a decade over at Quarry Bank. We had a good catch-up and a very pleasant walk. It was tempting, but neither of us were brave enough to pick the strawberry.

There were a few other visitors here today, but I think most of the other people we saw were gardeners, loads of them, all very busy. Lots of foxgloves too, but they weren’t doing much other than looking pretty.

Ruth went off to RHS Bridgewater and I returned home. I hope we can meet up again before another decade passes!

I scored a hattrick this week, attending all three of the regular Thrive Manchester walks. It was nice to see the old faces again, and some new ones.

Oops, I did it again. I left home in very good time with a view to catching a bus to one of the walks. A funeral procession held up traffic, including my bus. So I arrived late. But then so did Chantel, the leader, so I didn’t feel too bad!

In Painswick Park, it was hard to avoid all the goose guano on the path, and nobody can walk on tiptoes for that long. On the other side of the pond, we were approached by a herd, a swarm, a veritable gaggle of goslings.

If that wasn’t exciting enough, I set off on an adventure. I took a tram from Wythenshawe to the airport and then caught the bus back home. Why? Well, I’ve never done that before and I wanted to see how convenient the public transport option is at the airport. Will we travel by bus or tram with luggage? Very unlikely.

A schedule of Wythenshawe Radio shows is posted at the Forum. My show now goes out on Wednesday morning and I am described as ‘inimitable’.

I’ll take it as a compliment but… why the quotes? And no, I didn’t mention it at the volunteers’ meeting where it was nice to see some old faces and some new ones.

The theme of my show this week was Red Things. You can listen to over two hours of fabulous music right here on Mixcloud.

Koalafications

West Head has been on our list of places to visit for a while. And we found the drive there very interesting, even if the road was long and winding. Again, I was amused by seeing another Blackbutts Road, fnarr, fnarr, but of more interest was seeing some bridges across the road, hung from tree to tree, so that animals can safely cross the highway. Sadly, we still saw a couple of corpses by the side of the road.

As I said to Liesel, I’m always fascinated to see two bodies of water come into contact with each other. Sometimes, there’s a marked difference in colour, one more green than the other, for instance. Here, though, there was a very distinctive line between, I think, the Hawkesbury River and Pittwater.

From West Head, you can see Palm Beach in all its glory. We’d not walked up the path to the lighthouse on this visit, so it was great, from our vantage point on the other side of the water to see Barrenjoey Head standing proud. It was once an island, joined to the mainland via what we now know as Palm Beach, after the last ice age.

There are a number of walking tracks off the road leading to West Head, but we discounted some because they were described as ‘hard’. Some of the others were closed for reasons of safety: ‘Unstable edge’. Another one we couldn’t do because we couldn’t see where to park the car safely. Yet another would have meant negotiating a large puddle that straddled the path, and who knows how deep it was? And what monsters lurked beneath the surface? But we did have a nice wander up and down a couple of challenging paths.

As we ate our picnic lunch overlooking Pittwater and Palm Beach, we enjoyed watching the three young ladies next to us as they took out their equipment and began painting the scene. I don’t think I’ve ever seen paint in so many shades of blue, but by the time we left, they had pretty much captured the sea and the sky perfectly. Me, I just point the phone and click, job done. I often wish I had the patience, and the talent, to paint scenes like this, especially when photographs don’t really show the scale of a landscape.

No need to say that, yes, of course, we encountered a couple of massive spiders on their huge webs. A brush turkey came sniffing around for food, unsuccessfully. Well, shh, Leslie threw a small crust of bread, eliciting a roar of disapproval from Liesel and me.

The Red Hands Track was a challenge, but worthwhile, once we found the Aboriginal hand prints on the rock. These weren’t as easy to spot as those we saw a few days ago. The sign was almost apologetic, saying that although Australia had been inhabited by people for tens of thousands of years, these prints were only 2000 years old.

Always on the lookout for exciting wildlife, we jumped for joy when we crossed paths with this specimen.

We drove away via a different route, though the road was just as winding, passing by Akuna Bay. We expected a nice, peaceful bay, with maybe young children fishing, the water gently lapping on a beach. Instead, the bay was full of boats, Yachts of all shapes and sizes, scores of them, possibly hundreds. How they navigate in and out is a mystery to me.

I think Liesel and I were both slightly envious of the many cyclists enjoying the ups and downs of these virtually empty, quiet roads.

We stopped for coffee in Glenrose. Or was it Belrose? Shop names were evenly divided between the two names. As Google Maps would have it, we had coffee at Three Beans Glenrose Villiage (sic). It reminded us of the indistinct boundary between Chessington and Hook.

If we weren’t very lucky spotting kangaroos and koalas in the wild, we were much more fortunate seeing this beastie.

Tossed away in a shopping trolley like an old sock. Someone will be very disappointed when they get home. Funnily enough, we’d seen another wild avocado on the pavement, down the road from Helen’s, just a few days ago. Maybe they’re planning a takeover.

We set the controls for Long Reef one more time, specifically the pie shop. The server apologised because the only pies left were vegetarian. Oh well, that’ll do, but I was cheering inside. A pie plus leftover salads from yesterday’s barbecue, lovely. Accompanied by one of our favourite Disney films on TV, Brave. And then we started watching Haunting in Venice, the new Hercule Poirot film with Kenneth Branagh, but one of our party didn’t enjoy it. I won’t name the culprit, but she’s even older than me.

Koala Park Sanctuary is about a seven hour walk from Helen’s apartment, so it’s a good we had a vehicle and were able to drive there. We had a great time walking around, visiting the mainly Australian animals. Liesel said she preferred this place to Taronga Zoo: yes, it’s a bit more shabby, but it was much quieter, less frenetic.

I know with 100% certainty that this is a blue-tongued skink because that’s what the sign said. On the other hand, later on, we saw a rat in the enclosure with a wombat, and that might confuse someone if they read the sign, ‘Wombat’, looked up and saw nothing but a pesky rodent. The wombat itself was hiding in his house. Another wombat around the corner was indoors too. Too cold for them?

And this, according to the sign, is definitely a diamond python.

We saw a lace monitor trying to escape. But he’d come in very handy for someone who maybe couldn’t reach down to retie their shoes. Just call on the services of a lace monitor.

It was nice to see the kookaburras again. Last time we were here, five years ago, I’d recorded one of them laughing. I played back the recording today to see whether the bird recognised himself. Not a twitch of recognition nor interest.

Some of the other birds were singing quite nicely, but the mesh on the cages was annoyingly prominent for this photographer. Losing half of an otherwise decent picture because my finger was in the way, well, I can’t blame anyone else for that.

A couple of muzzled dingoes were taken for a walk. Despite the muzzle though, one of them managed to pick up some inappropriate food from the ground.

The long-billed corella came over to make friends. I didn’t have any food for him, but I did try to teach him some rude words. He wasn’t responding.

Lorikeets, emus, goats, sheep and, of course, kangaroos and wallabies were here to be spoken to and fed but only with the feed purchased at reception. As before, the kangaroos weren’t that interested in the same boring old food. They didn’t mind being petted a bit, though.

The cassowary was behind heavy wire too. And blimey, again, we were surprised to see how big their feet are, compared to an emu’s, say. Wouldn’t want one of them stomping on your feet at a disco.

But I think the highlight for all of us was seeing a couple of koalas up close. On our last visit, we were able to touch them but now, quite rightly, we can’t because they find the experience too stressful. The guide took us through all the koala facts he knew in a brisk ten minutes, then we members of the public were allowed into the koalas’ enclosure a few at a time.

What was funny was that as soon as the guide stopped talking, one of the koalas climbed to the top of one of the bare trees, almost as if he knew what was coming, and he didn’t want anything to do with us visitors.

Later on, in a different place, we found a pregnant koala. Since the joey is born not much bigger in size than the tip of your finger, she’s looking pretty big, I reckon.

We had a quick look in the gift shop and we had a coffee. Something possessed me to try it with macadamia milk. Nope, not for me. As with almond milk, which I tried once, I can’t see the point. I’ll continue to stick with old-fashioned cow juice in my coffee, thank you very much.

We had a date for a late lunch in Manly, returning to the Pantry. We parked at the far end of North Steyne, so we had a reasonable walk to the venue. The beach was very busy, and many people were in the water.

We three were first to arrive, followed by Helen and Brent soon after. Bambi was late, and it would be rude if I were to mention that she’d forgotten the date. So I won’t. But she and Gypsy were a little… delayed.

We had a lovely lunch, after which we bade farewell to Bambi and Gypsy for the final time on this trip.

The rest of us ambled along the road to Manly Pacific for cocktails. Well, I had a cocktail, a Dusky Rose Whaler, so did Brent, an espresso Martini. Liesel and Mom had coffee and Helen had a glass of rosé. Just so you know what to order when you take us next time, gentle reader.

And now it’s time. I want a drumroll on the table in front of you. Call up a nearby band and get them to play a fanfare. Nothing too ostentatious, just a little something to mark the occasion. I have an announcement.

I am pleased to announce that my daughter Helen is now engaged to be married to Brent.

Helen was flashing the ring a few days ago, and did I notice? With a little prompting, yes.

So, love and congratulations to Helen and Brent from Dad, Liesel and Leslie: we’re so happy that we were here to share this moment with you. And love from Pauline and Andrew too who were amongst the first to hear the news, and from all your friends!

Bikes, Boxx and a Beatle

It was a nice surprise being invited to babysit one night, when Jenny and Liam visited an Escape Room. I had to reassure Martha and William that of course, Mummy and Daddy would be home later but at the back of my mind was: suppose they don’t manage to escape from the Escape Room? Spoiler: they did.

William in particular wanted to stay up until midnight, so I’m grateful that he can’t quite tell the time yet: midnight arrived at about 7.30pm.

Martha’s been learning about the state of the planet at school, and in addition to a bedtime story, she told me about plastics in the sea, and microplastics, and how they get into the food chain. Good night, sleep well!

While they should have been winding down, it was necessary to perform some acrobatics on their beds. Run and jump. Martha had to jump onto William’s bed though, she couldn’t quite manage the height of her own, bunk, bed.

I joined Kyle and the Wythenshawe Star Gazers one more time, but again, it was too cloudy to see anything interesting in the sky. The Moon tried to peek through and I attempted to capture it.

I don’t know whether I’ve mentioned it at all, but we’ve had a lot of rain recently. The ground is totally saturated, so even the (rare) shortest of downpours now results in huge puddles. They make for interesting, challenging walks around the neighbourhood.

Some of the other walkers were talking about wearing wellington boots, or waders, and who knows, sometime in the future, we might have to wear life jackets on these organised walks.

Some bad news now. Even though it was raining (what a surprise) I took the car in to be washed and valeted. It all went well until the guy hoovered up our National Trust car parking sticker from the window. Now that’s a powerful vacuum cleaner!

And so my hundred years of solitude came to an end. I collected Liesel from the airport and managed to drive straight home, without missing a turning and going home via Chester or Edinburgh.

Anchorage is still colder than here but the snow is beginning to thaw. Somehow they have more hours of daylight than we do in the UK at the moment.

Liesel had 24 hours to get over the jet lag before we went cycling. Not actual cycling, but we went to Manchester Velodrome to watch a session of the National Track Cycling Championships. We met up with the family there, and after being ejected from the seats we’d wrongly occupied, we had a good time.

The cyclists hurtled towards us down the back straight for about four hours, in various races, sprint, pursuit, keirin, scratch race and a very exciting women’s points race: overall, a much longer session than anticipated. Martha and William were really good though, and they went home suitably decorated.

We look forward to seeing some of today’s winners, champions all, as their careers progress. Look out for Lauren Bell, Jenny Holl, Hayden Norris and Sam Fisher in particular. It was fun to see Jody Cundy in action again, and the children were pleased to see him too: they know him from Strictly Come Dancing.

As I said, the session was longer than we expected, so we decided to dine out in the evening. Wagamamas, since you ask. The sky was obscured by clouds but again, the Moon peeked through, albeit shattered.

It’s funny how we can book tickets for events really far in advance, and then they all arrive together. Like buses. Two days after the cycling, we went to see Seth Lakeman in concert, in Manchester.

It was our turn to collect the children from school and this time, we took them to a bookshop, with the idea of buying a book each. And what a lovely shop it is too. If you’re in the area, drop in at Simply Books, Bramhall, fantastic ambience with friendly and helpful staff.

Martha and William chose their books, after which we took them to Gusto for a pizza.

After dropping the children back home, we thought we’d go into the big city by tram. Huh. Given the local traffic conditions, it would take us nearly as long to drive to our chosen tram stop as it would to drive all the way into Manchester. Ridiculous, but that’s what we did: drove into Manchester. It was worth it though. Seth always puts on a good show, and this one was celebrating the twentieth anniversary of his second solo album Kitty Jay, and the first half of the show was devoted to that set of songs. Did we sing along? No, not as much as usual. Did we dance? Again, not so much, at least not until he told us to get up. But I was fidgetting in my seat quite a lot, not necessarily in time with the music, but trying to find a comfortable position to ease the discomfort of my sciatica. Still, mustn’t grumble, eh!

No disrespect to the rest of the terrific band, but those pictures are, as my Chemistry teacher used to say, nbg.

It’s cold. There, I said it. I even said it out loud this week, it did feel cold outside. But the Spring flowers aren’t deterred, they’ll always cheer us up.

After the Thrive walk, we visited Boxx 2 Boxx for a coffee as usual. I didn’t realise at the time, that we would become part of the Instagram marketing campaign for this little coffee shop.

I enjoyed what will be my last Thrive walks for a while, despite it being cold. The Sun came out briefly, yet it’s still cold out. It’s not my birthday for a few weeks, but Jenny and Helen had plans for me. Liesel and I had to keep March 1st free but until we arrived at the venue, The Plaza in Stockport, I didn’t know what we were going to see.

I think the last time I saw a stage show about the Beatles was with Sarah in 1975 or so, a superb production called John, Paul, George, Ringo and Bert. Barbara Dickson performed all the songs on that memorable occasion.

Tonight though, Daniel Taylor told us George Harrison’s story, and performed the songs. The band was good, and after the show, I felt I should go back and listen to George’s albums again. They played a couple of songs from The Travelling Wilburys too. Some folks believe that to be the greatest ever supergroup: George, Roy Orbison, Jeff Lynne, Tom Petty and Bob Dylan.

Thank you Helen and Jenny for the early birthday present! Did I sing along? Sotto voce, yes. I can recommend Something about George if you’re at all interested in the so-called quiet Beatle.

Speaking of George Harrison, he famously gave his ukulele to Sam Brown, who now conducts ukulele lessons in Oxfordshire. Well, that’s too far for Martha to travel, but so far, she is enjoying learning the instrument. She already has a couple of chords in her repertoire.

Since the last proper post here, I have sent two Wythenshawe FM radio shows out into the universe. The themes of the shows are Doctors and Wales, respectively. Set aside 4 hours for some marvellous music.

I don’t often write about the books I’m reading, but I do have to recommentd one that I have just finished. I’ve been a fan of Kerry Hudson since she came to Manchester Literature Festival a few years ago to talk about her then new book Lowborn. Well, the follow-up to that has recently been published. Newborn is just as personal, honest and moving as its predecessor and you can’t help but wish Kerry and her family all the best for the future. Highly recommended.

Books, Bats and Bikes

As part of my regular wanders around Northenden, I sometimes check up on the little library in Riverside Park. I really didn’t think it would work this well, but it is great to see it being used. It’s full of books, adults’ and children’s.

I keep meaning to fix the door locking mechanism, but I need to remember to carry tools with me, a sonic screwdriver or something.

Speaking of which: I have reached the episode of Doctor Who that brought me nearly to tears when I was a young 14-year old. The one in which companion Zoe Heriot left the series, and was returned to a point just before she set off on her travels with the Doctor. The Time Lords erased her memory of these adventures, and I found that incredibly sad.

I’d forgotten that this episode was also the last one with the second Doctor, played by Patrick Troughton who was replaced by Jon Pertwee. It was also the last one in black and white. The third Doctor’s stories were shown in colour, but of course, I didn’t know that, it was a couple of years before we had a colour TV at home!

I don’t spend all my time watching classic Doctor Who, honest. I’ve also been catching up on Planet Earth 3, something that Liesel doesn’t really get on with, especially when the animals catch and eat each other, although there’s not a lot of that.

There was time for my own adventures too. When I give blood, every few months in Manchester, I go by bus. I’d rather not drive because, if I were to feel faint after the session (although this has never happened) I would be unable to drive home.

So I went out and stood by the bus stop. I was surprised and delighted to see a new litter bin there. There’s always been one on the other side of the road, but not by this particular bus stop.

Sod’s law dictates that whichever bus I’m waiting for, one travelling in the opposite, wrong direction will appear first. And so it was today. I thought it was strange that the sign on that bus said it was was going to Manchester Piccadilly. Weird, I thought. But as it pulled away from the bus stop, I suddenly realised: I was waiting on the wrong side of the road. I should have caught that bus. What a prat.

Now, of course, I’m concerned that I’m going to be late for my appointment. But I wasn’t. I gave my name at precisely 2 o’clock. Not on the list. They only take platelets on a Monday, not full blood. Monday? I thought it was Tuesday. So, rather than being late, I was a day early. What a plonker.

As I said to someone, I’m glad I wasn’t trying to donate my brain, nobody would want that particular organ today, it really wasn’t firing on all cylinders.

Twenty-four hours later, I successfully donated, enjoyed a small packet of Bourbons and a small packet of digestives and was about to grab some custard creams when the nurse took the trolley away.

Still, it was good to see the first signs of Spring on the local village green: crocuses and snowdrops here, and a couple of daffodils elsewhere.

I was sad to learn of the death of Christopher Priest. He was one of my favourite science fiction writers in the 1970s and ’80s. I met him once, when he came to our Science Fiction Society meeting when I was at Queen Elizabeth College, so nearly 50 years ago. He was a top bloke, very generous with his time. I still treasure the email he sent me after I got in touch wih him after he wrote an obituary for Harry Harrison. Who, by coincidence, was another guest speaker at our SFSoc all those years ago.

Reading Chris’s obits, I discovered that he was born in Cheadle and attended Cheadle Hulme School, a mere stone’s throw from where Jenny and the family now live.

Wythenshawe Star Gazers provide opportunities to use other people’s equipment to view the night sky. I went along this week, despite the 99% cloud cover, and we were able to just about see Jupiter through a telescope, not in any detail though thanks to the more local clouds.

Plan B is to have a talk indoors, and Kyle spoke to us about the planets. Dave was there with some great photos that he’d taken, despite living so close to the airport with its bright lights.

Let me blow my own trumpet and say that the leek and potato soup I had this week was the best I’ve made in a very long time. So glad it lasted two days.

Jenny and Liam went out for a meal with friends Matt and Amy, and I was delighted to be asked to look after Martha and William. We played a couple of games, Uno and Furious but best of all, we watched a few episodes of Bluey on TV. Don’t tell Mummy and Daddy, but they stayed up a little bit later than they were meant to, shhh!

I don’t want to know what Martha was doing to this poor old teddy.

It was, as always, fun to watch the children swimming too. Martha had been kick boxing earlier while William was playing football. I can only imagine the complexities of the speadsheet that helps their parents coordinate all the children’s activities. I joined the family for lunch after which, we spent some time in a park in Gatley.

For the first time in many years, I played tennis. Five minutes of that exercise was enough for this short-of-breath old fart. William and Martha had cycled to the park, and they proceeded to ride around the skateboard park too.

What else did they bring apart from bikes and tennis racquets? Well, the remote controlled car and cricket bats, of course. In the end, we didn’t play cricket. but it was a full-on afternoon. Thankfully, the car stayed in one piece despite William’s efforts on the skateboard park. And, it was a surprisingly warm afternoon, hence Martha’s decision to remove her coat.

The car survived, OK, but the radio show this week was about Breaking Things, breaking up, breaking down, breaking out. You can pass or waste two hours by listening here.

Litter, lollies and Leghs

Northenden briefly became the centre of the universe this week. Noel Gallagher’s High Flying Birds were playing at Wythenshawe Park, supported by a couple of other bands. From the comfort of our luxury apartment, we could hear the soundcheck early in the day. And even in the evening, we could hear the bands playing. Unfortunately, what we heard was very bass-heavy, so we couldn’t identify any particular tune. I’m sure they would have played some Oasis songs, but I was in the land of nod well before the end of the show. Friends of ours who attended later said they had a wonderful time, despite the short, sharp torrential downpour late in the afternoon.

By way of marking the occasion, Northenden Fringe Festival was organised over a couple of days. I went up and down the main road, looking for music, but didn’t find any. There was a group of people outside the theatre, but I think they’d finished. But don’t take anything away from the local shops.

Meanwhile, Jenny and family went away for the weekend. Martha and William’s other grandparents, Alan and Una, were celebrating their Golden Wedding Anniversary. Congratulations to Alan and Una!

Alan and Una with the grandchildren William, Martha, Emily and Annabel

This week, we walked in a couple of places new to us. Jenny invited us to join them for a walk at Errwood Reservoir, in the Peak District. I thought, a reservoir, that’ll be fairly flat, then.

From the car park, we walked along the road and then started following a track towards the woods. The incline increased slowly. William was running much of the time, mostly off the track, and both the children picked up sticks every now and then.

The fireweed was quite profuse, and if you look closely at the picture, you’ll see the flies were too.

I don’t think these were the culprits, but we were all being bitten by small, annoying, flying microdots. Legs, arms, back of my neck and my forehead were all affected. Some of the bites didn’t attract itchy attention until a few days afterwards. I haven’t been this spotty since I was a teenager.

But after walking up a long, long hill, I was becoming short of breath. My coping mechanism is to walk 100 steps, have a short break, then go another 100 steps. Well, that reduced to 50. What I should have done was have a complete rest for 20 minutes, half an hour, and start again. Liam pointed out that we were two-thirds of the way up the hill. The contours on the OS map were just about on top of each other! I groaned inwardly. Thinking of how far I’d already climbed, I knew there was no way I could do half of that again. So, reluctantly, I told the others to carry on, and I turned round. But by now, even walking downhill was ridiculously hard work. I was still stopping every few steps. At least, until I found a nice log to sit down on for several minutes. But them flies. Can’t see them flying around, but sometimes catch sight of one on your skin when you feel a sharp sting.

I found the ruins of Errwood Hall. For some reason, it hadn’t registered with my brain that it was indeed just a ruin. I’d anticipated walking around a stately home and then enjoying a cup of coffee with a huge slice of cake. Huh. Unfortunately, even the ruins are out of bounds right now.

Along the path, there was a pile of fencing and another warning: Danger, Forestry Work, Follow all signs and instructions. Well, I try to do the right thing, but try as I might, I could not find any other signs nor instructions. Instead, I followed the path all the way back to the car park where, I was pleased to say, the ice cream van was still in place. I took my Magnum back along the path enjoyed it while sitting on a bench overlooking the reservoir. Very peaceful.

When the others reappeared, Martha was very excited because she’d seen her first wild animal.

We swapped stories about our bug bites. “Guess how many times I’ve been bitten, William?” I asked. “Twenty thousand billion” was his surprisingly accurate response.

As it was quite late in the day by now, we decided to dine out. Bayleaf Lounge in Bollington was our choice and I spent much of the rest of the day trying to recall why the name ‘Bollington’ rung a bell. Days later, I still can’t remember. But the Indian meal was delicious, even if for a while, the children weren’t that interested in it!

After the meal, the owner of the establishment came over with mint chocolates for us, plus a lollipop for each of the children. He asked us to put up positive reviews, and while we enjoyed the meal, I’m not sure any of us do positive reviews for anything.

So that was a pleasant day at a new venue, and so was our next walk. We picked up our friend Michael, who we know from the regular Thrive Manchester walks, and went to Wilmslow railway station. We should have gone by public transport, but when it’s a choice between an 18-minute drive and an awkward bus and train journey that can take over an hour, what are you going to do?

We met up with a group of walkers from Stockport’s Walkaday programme. When the next train arrived, it disgorged several more, and over twenty of us walked from Wilmslow to Alderley Edge. The first mile or so took us through the residential area. We passed by the world-famous Sainsbury Mural, made by Judith Bluck in 1989.

Obviously, you can’t see the whole thing properly because so many cars are parked in front of it. But it tells the story of one of the legends that surrounds Alderley Edge: ‘The Legend of the Iron Gates’.

We saw a few birds later on in the fields and woods, but none as close nor as impressive as this one in Wilmslow.

The walk was led by Su and she knew a few interesting spots. For example, we didn’t expect to see a disused narrow gauge railway line in the woods. It’s been there so long, a tree has grown between the rails.

We were walking on peat for much of the time, enjoying the expanses of heather. There was nothing harder to negotiate than minor undulations, so I had no problem keeping up today.

Lindow Man is a 2000-year old body found in 1984 well preserved in this peat marsh. Hence his nickname, Pete Marsh. He currently resides at the British Museum but it is hoped that he’ll return to Manchester next year for the 40th anniversary. The site of the discovery is well marked. With a stick.

We finished our walk at Alderley Edge station, from where we took a train all the way back to Wilmslow, just one stop.

Liesel’s exciting day concluded with a WI committee meeting while I watched Jessica Lee Morgan performing online.

The Wednesday walk was cancelled this week, but this didn’t prevent some of us from doing it. And just as well: two people had turned up for their first time and we all did our best to make them welcome.

The Thursday walk took place as usual in Wythenshawe, and again, a couple of new people turned up to join us. The most important news I can share is that Costa has fixed the spelling of their Vegan Sausage baps.

The Friday walk took place as usual, but Liesel and I didn’t join it. Instead, we collected the children for what would be their, and our, final visit to Quirky Misfits. Sadly, this coffee shop and gothic stockist of steampunk, skulls, incense, jewellery, crystals and much more quirky stuff, is closing down. So, farewell Lydia and Maria, thanks for all the coffee and good luck for your future endeavours!

But instead of going straight to the coffee shop, we walked from our flat. And both William and Martha were keen to pick some litter on the way.

There were friendly fights over some items, bottles and cans being particularly attractive! In the end, William picked up the longest item, something off a car, while Martha picked up the largest single item, a hub cap, again, off a car.

At one point, we were discussing how disgusting some people are, just throwing their litter on the ground. William sucked on a thoughtful, yet wobbly, tooth, and opined “Why can’t people have some respect for the planet?”

Both children entered the Riverside Park playground through the back door. In other words, rather than walking around to the gate, they climbed over the wooden fence. The playground is much nicer now, there is much less litter blowing around.

We finally reached the shop, and Martha decided to buy a small, pirate’s treasure map in a jar, yes, that is very quirky, plus one of the many fascinating rocks, newly polished.

Because William couldn’t find anything here in Quirky Misfits, he chose a Pokémon magazine in the Co-op next door. I think the main attraction of this magazine was its twenty thousand billion stickers. While in the supermarket, William also decided on what to buy for lunch and take home. Including a water melon. A very heavy water melon. Heavy, yes, but in the end, really juicy and sweet and tasty

The theme for this week’s radio show was Emergency Services, so plenty of sirens and emergency situations. Two hours of fabulous, eclectic music, as heard on Wythenshawe Radio WFM 97.2 on Friday at 2pm. But if you missed it or want to listen again, here it is on Mixcloud.

Usually this blog is written and delivered on a Saturday. But this week is different. Martha was very disappointed when she realised she’d left her treasure map at our place when we took her home. So we invaded their space on Saturday morning to return the bottle and we loved watching both children’s swimming lessons.

As it was such a beautiful, warm day, we decided to go for a walk at Lyme Park. Ironic how hot, Summer days arrive with September, just as the children are about to go back to school.

Lyme Park was very busy, there was even a queue to get in. But we got there in the end. As usual, we walked up the hill towards the entrance of the house. It’s a short but steep slope, and a good indicator of whether my SoB issue will rear its head. It didn’t. And we had a nice wander around the gardens.

We had an ice cream, sea-salted caramel for Liesel, and raspberry ripple for me, if you’re taking notes. We waited on a path for a family to take some pictures, and as we passed them, I prepared to take a photo of my own. “What are you doing?” asked a worried Liesel. “Taking a picture of the house,” I replied. She thought I was shooting the family who were celebrating a young person’s birthday. No, no, I wouldn’t do that. And this is the picture that I took following this exchange.

Not a bad picture, right? There’s only one way it can be improved.

After a well-earned coffee and sandwich break, during which time I admired paintings by the Legh family, former occupants of this, the biggest house in Cheshire, we carried on walking, towards The Cage, down the hill again, over the stream, over the stile, and through the woods.

Some work had been done in these woods, with a bridge over a particularly damp and muddy section. I was a bit short of breath, but nowhere near as bad as at the reservoir a few days earlier. I paced myself, and took advantage of some logs for a bit of a sit down.

We went home and after a refreshing shower, I made a start on the blog. Then we ate supper. After which, I felt ridiculously tired and couldn’t bring myself to continue. So I didn’t.

This morning, we made our way over to Jenny’s quite early and then followed them to Hazel Grove. Today is the start of the Tour of Britain bike race, and today’s stage was from Altricham to Manchester, the long way round, just over 100 miles.

We decided to witness the first, and only, sprint at Hazel Grove.

We arrived at the right time, we had a great spot right by the sprint point. We watched the marshals putting the finishing touches to the barriers, making use of cable ties. Then we watched the man mark the finishing line on the road with white tape. I always assumed those lines were painted.

The children kept themselves busy while waiting for nearly an hour for the race to turn up by playing video games on parents’ phones!

The crowd cheered most of the every-day cyclists who passed by minding their own business and I took advantage of them to practice taking action shots with the phone. I can’t tell you how disappointed I was to discover that when I do a burst shot, I only get 30 pictures. On the old phone, a burst would produce 100 images. Maybe there’s a way to change this number, I thought, but I couldn’t find one.

We monitored the race online but we knew the race was imminent when a large number of police motor bikes roared by. Some had sirens going too. Then the support cars came by, some but not all with spare bikes on top.

Suddenly, after much anticipation, the leaders of the race arrived, and we had a winner:

There were five riders in this leading group, and the rest of the peloton came by just over two minutes later. Far too fast to be able to identify any one individual. It was just a blur of cycle jerseys.

And that was it. Away from home for three hours altogether in the end, for a mere couple of seconds of action! That is the nature of bike races. Back at home, of course we watched the rest of the race into Manchester on TV. But if you were hoping to see footage of our family at the first sprint point, you’ll be disappointed: the camera was concentrating on people on the other side of the road.

As you are now reading it, you’ll be aware that I wrote and published the blog.

That’s all folks!

Circles

Never let it be said that Liesel and I don’t know how to have a good time, whether together or separately. On this fine Saturday, Liesel went for coffee with her WI chums leaving me to my own devices at home. But not for long. I paid a quick visit to Wythenshawe Forum for my Covid booster jab. No chocolate biscuits on this occasion, but neither did I have to rest for 15 minutes before being kicked out. All I need now is my flu jab and I’ll then consider myself fully Winter-proofed.

The walk home, the long way, took me by the river where I was delighted to see the heron attempting to hide on the island.

There are of course a zillion things more romantic than a Northenden sunset, but we have to make do with what we can get.

I have been tempted to paint a mountain view on the windows, but that idea has been vetoed by my wife. What about a stain glass window, then? If not mountains, what about a beautiful seascape? Nope. And nope.

We paid a return visit to Jodrell Bank where we met up with Jenny and Liam and the children. It’s been a while since we were last there, and the layout of the place and the car park all seemed unfamiliar.

We watched a couple of short films in the Dome, and even though it was warm and dark inside, I didn’t fall asleep.

The main attraction was the playground, where William and Martha had a great time climbing the frame and spinning fast on the mini roundabout made from an old washing-up bowl.

William walking on what can only be described as the rings of Saturn

We had lunch before wandering over towards what should be the main attraction, the James Lovell radio telescope. On the way, we encountered some strange, almost extraterrestrial lifeforms.

We also admired pictures from the Astronomy Photographer of the Year competition, now in its 13th year. I would love to claim credit for these photos, but I didn’t spend hours, days, even weeks, outside, in the cold, taking multiple time exposures and stitching together several elements. I just walked along a path and took a few quick snaps with my phone.

‘High clouds on Jupiter create intricate and beautiful shapes that swirl all over the planet. To get a colour image when there are only three colour channels (red, green, blue), some sort of filter-to-channel mapping must be done. PixInsight was used for the rest of the processing: custom white balance, deconvolution and wavelet transformation for detail enhancement, contrast and saturation curves. The resulting image, in CIE-LAB colour space, was then converted to RGB.’ – Sergio Díaz Rulz

This Image takes the Annie Maunder Prize to a new level this year. By using real data from a NASA research programme, the entrant has managed to encode the filters used to study Jupiter into shape and colour, creating a new and unique way to see the largest planet in our solar system.”

‘When I took this photo it was -16°C and the air was filled with small ice crystals that made this halo possible. This regular 22° halo is more commonly seen around the Sun. The moonlight needs to be quite strong to make the halo visible, so it’s more common around the days of a full moon. To the left you can see the city lights of Östersund, Sweden, and in the foreground you can see the tracks from a rabbit that hopped up to the trees.’ – Göran Strand.

“I really love this picture as it beautifully captures the Moon in a way we rarely see it, showing us that even on a calm winter’s night, it can still take your breath away.” Melissa Brobby, Judge.

The fly is a bit annoying but feel free to believe it’s an alien spacecraft if you like.

Martha was impressed at the scale of the telescope, even if she didn’t quite understand how it worked. We tried to walk around it but sadly, some of the grounds are out of bounds. William and Martha enjoyed the scientific exhibits outside, demonstrating such things as the conservation of angular momentum. I’m sure there used to be ‘toys’ to play with indoors too, but as I said, it’s been a long time since our last visit.

For some reason, the children weren’t interested in the wooden radio telescope prototypes that I found behind the scenes.

On our baby-sitting day, we collected them both from school and brought them straight back to our luxury apartment. Mummy and Daddy were off to school for Parent Teachers evening. I told Martha it was so the teachers could tell the parents how bad the children had been. She immediately corrected me, “How good we’ve been!”

At home, using some colourful, fallen Autumn leaves, some washi tape, paper and sellotape, they had fun making some bookmarks. At school, William had made a card each for Oma and Grandad which was very cute, even if his teacher had to help spell ‘Grandad’.

For the radio show this week, I played lots of black music to mark Black History Month.

Something went wrong with uploading to Mixcloud, I had several attempts and it didn’t work. I wondered at my incompetence, or if I’d hit some limit that I was unaware of. But no, it turns out there was a problem on their site. So, overnight, all three of my attempted uploads successfully completed. Anyone looking at my profile would wonder why there were three shows with almost identical names! Technology eh?

In medical news, I visited the dentist, the hygienist and the barber. My neck feels much colder now. I also visited a periodontist for the first time since we moved away from Chessington. I won’t go into details but you know that song Unfinished Sweet by Alice Cooper? That. On the way home, I thought I’d go for a wander in Wythenshawe Park while I processed a lot of information. I texted Liesel and we agreed to meet there.

We had a nice walk around the park, following the new cycle/pedestrian path. It looks pretty good, although it ‘s recommended that you cycle in one direction only, widdershins. In places, there are extra loops and bumps and challenges for wannabe mountain bikers.

It started raining a few minutes before completing the circuit so we arrived back at the car a bit more damp than planned.

On TV, we’ve been watching the World Track Cycling Campionships and feel a bit sad that some of our favourite cyclists from 2012, London Olympics, are no longer competing, and we don’t know the current team nearly as well.

Dinosaurs and bicycles

On our walk to Didsbury, we encountered more fly-tipped rubbish. We didn’t investigate but there may well have been evidence identifying the perpetrator of the crime. I always take a picture of this sort of rubbish with the intention of reporting it to the council. But I invariably forget to do so and then I find the picture a few days later, groan inwardly and tell myself that surely by now, somebody else has reported it.

Unusually for us, we had breakfast in out, by which I mean, we were inside a café, but out, not indoors at home. If you see what I mean. We live in a freedom-loving country of course (I know, I know) but who knew that nearly fifty years ago, it would no longer be legal to do much at all in some locations.

We walked back home a slightly longer way because we had errands to run. In Marie Louise Gardens, we collected a bag of sticks and fir cones. This is for a future project in which Liesel will construct some bug hotels with the ladies of the WI. We had some items to buy at the Co-op, and I let Liesel have the pleasure of going inside, masked of course. But most importantly, we collected a parcel from the Post Office, 3 kg of plastic dinosaurs, newly arrived from Liesel’s Mom in Alaska. And as someone suggested on Twitter, plastic dinosaurs are the most realistic replicas possible. Plastic comes from oil. Oil comes from dead, squished dinosaurs. So a plastic dino might easily contain some genuine dino DNA. We could in theory create our own Jurassic Park. We didn’t do that though, oh no. Instead, the following morning we left a trail of dinosaurs up the stairs and leading to our luxury apartment. From above, I watched William as he spotted one. Then another… Then another…

Lille boy climbs to the top of the stairs

William brought his family over for brunch, but don’t worry, they had been invited and were all very welcome, and Liesel cooked up a magnificent banquet which we all throughly enjoyed, thank you.

“Do you like dinosaurs, William?”
“Yes, but I couldn’t eat a whole one.”

It was such a nice day, we all went outside and sat in the shade of our old oak tree. The one we usually play hide’n’seek around. Or ‘tag’, even, but without actually touching because of Covid!

And we painted rocks. Well, I say rocks, but they were just small stones that we could find in the the confines of the communal car park. I remember burying some painted pet rocks before we moved away from Chessington. You can read about it here if you like.

Now we have a few more stones for someone to bury in future years.

We all did very well, didn’t we? And then indoors again, the contents of the toy box were investigated and distributed. Every now and then, William would remember there’s a baby in the flat below ours and try to keep quiet for a while. It’s becoming a habit, but he ate a raw carrot, straight from the fridge and scrubbed under the tap. This, despite the fact that the last time he consumed a whole carrot, it resulted in the production of large orange poo the following day! To protect her identity, I won’t name which one of us two produced purple poo the morning after consuming beetroot salad. Oh and speaking of poo, this is the class of advert we’re seeing at local bus stops:

OK, I’ll try not to mention poo again. Except to say that I will soon be receiving my bowel cancer testing kit, a biennial event that I always look forward to. Sadly, for me, Liesel provided an old tub to use, so I had no reason to buy a new one, one containing ice cream, for example.

Sometimes on a local walk, we retrace our steps, and that can be rewarding. We did so this week to stay in the shade of the local woods just a little longer on what was a surprisingly hot Summer day. And there’s nothing wrong with this little piece of uplifting philosophy, which I think we’ve probably walked by several times, and missed, as it’s on the other side of the gate post.

Some medical news, hooray. I went into Manchester to give blood and again, this was no problem, except I had to have a cold drink afterwards, not tea, but I did enjoy my Club biscuit and ginger nuts.

We both received text messages from our GP inviting us in for our flu jabs. Liesel called to make appointments for us, and after being on hold for 45 minutes, was told that there were no more appointments available. And there probably wouldn’t be until November. Hmm. Meanwhile, Liesel had also received an email from a pharmacy also inviting her in for a flu jab. We called their local branch and were able to go along later that same day to be jabbed. A couple of days afterwards, I received an email inviting me to come along for a Covid jab, which was very tempting. Yes, I am fully vaccinated already, but a trip to Manly, New South Wales, even if to visit this particular pharmacy, is very appealing right now!

Well, I don’t know if it was the flu shot or the reduced volume of blood in my system, or a combination of the two, but the following day, I just felt really tired, and breathless. This didn’t prevent us setting off to watch the nearest stage of the Tour of Britain bike race. We drove to Quarry Bank National Trust and then walked for about half an hour to our chosen viewing location on Mobberley Road.

It was another warm day, and I was conscious of walking much more slowly than my usual pace. Along the path, we found some nourishment in the shape of blackberries and damsons.

We set up camp by a bus stop and after consulting various sources, realised we had about an hour to wait. Why so early? Well, on one occasion, we just missed a race by a few minutes because roads were closed and we had to park further away than planned. The road closures seem to be better managed these days. We thought we’d have a good view of the cyclists coming towards us, and I took many, many test photos of the many, many police motor bikes as they preceded the race, checking the route and telling car drivers to get out of the way when necessary.

A local man came along and he wondered why the race was on a weekday, not at the weekend. Maybe he didn’t realise it was a stage race, a different route for eight consecutive days. He went home when he realised there was still quite a long wait. But didn’t make it back to join us, probably because one of the police officers was keeping traffic off the road. He also told us that as this very spot a few months ago, two buses had crashed into each other, head on, in the middle of the road. He pointed out the exact spot. He thinks nobody was seriously injured.

And then, suddenly, at 50kph or more, the leading group of five riders appeared, surrounded by cars and more motor bikes.

This leading, breakaway group, consists of Jacob Scott, in green, current leader in the King of the Mountains and Sprint competitions; Nickolas Zukowsky; Christopher Blevins; Leon Mazzone; and Robin Carpenter, who won the stage in Exeter, three days earlier.

If you think racing on a bike, 152.2 km, from Alderley Park to Warrington is hard, you should try watching the incredibly fast cyclists, taking some photos and applauding and cheering them on, all at the same time. No, actually, just cycling 152.2 km on a day out would be hard enough. That’s about 94 miles, a distance I’ve cycled maybe a dozen times or so, ever, and these guys do it every day as fast as their little legs will carry them. Châpeau, as they say!

Just a couple of minutes later came the peloton. 90+ cyclists at full pelt, and I’d forgotten how noisy a large group of cyclists can be. In a flash, they were gone. More motor bikes and cars and a long, long way behind, one lone rider who stopped and asked when the next bus was due. No, he didn’t, but I wonder if it crossed his mind.

A long time away from home for a mere two minutes of entertainment, then! Yes, of course, we watched the whole race on TV when we got home, but we didn’t make it on screen, which may be a blessing.

The Global6 support team parked up near us, for a natural break. Their bike wheels have green rims, and after the Tour is over, those wheels will be auctioned off to raise funds for Refugee Action.

As we walked back to the car at Quarry Bank, we ate some more damsons. I warned Liesel to watch out for the nettles, just as my shin found a particularly potent nettle bush. Thank goodness for Germolene.

We didn’t wander round the venue, but we did find our way to the restaurant and had a nice cup of National Trust decaff coffee plus a slice of raspberry Bakewell slice. It felt good to be building up my strength again after that relatively short but ridiculously knackering walk.

We were very lucky with the weather, we just felt a few spots of rain. But the cyclists had to contend with much worse on their way to Warrington.

This is the view from the comfort of our living room, gorgeous landscape and menacing dark clouds.

Another wander around Northenden was quite good for us wildlife fans.

The Jolly Roger is still flying at The Crown for the boat race a couple of weeks ago. I hope the pink bunny is soon reunited with her child. The squirrel posed beautifully. The heron was in its usual spot and he seemed to be finding things to eat in the very low river.

The shortest duration job I ever had was working on a building site in Notting Hill. I lasted one day and one hour. On the first day, I had to shift a load of toilets from there to over there. The next morning, I was told to move them all back again. Well, what a waste of time that was, I thought. But what drove me away was that is was raining hard all the time, plus the steel toe cap shoes I’d borrowed off my Dad, two sizes too small, had given me so many blisters, I just couldn’t get comfortable. But I did come away from the job with the ambition of being a hod-carrier. Yes, I wanted to be the bloke that carried dozens of house bricks or roof tiles on my shoulder while climbing a high, ricketty old ladder. Sadly, it seems that ambition will never be fulfilled. Local builders have installed a sort of conveyor belt to carry the tiles up to the guy on the roof. So that’s another ancient skill that will be forgotten in time, along with mining and sweeping chimneys.

The good news of course is that my real-life ambition of being a radio presenter is being realised, to a certain extent. This week’s show on Radio Northenden was presented from a desert island beach, with very few other people around, the waves crashing and I played lots of sunshiny, laid-back, chilled music, mostly evoking nice, peaceful places we’d all like to be sometimes, away from the hurly-burly and the hustle-bustle of every day life in the city. You can listen here.

And yes, of course we watched the next stage of the Tour of Britain on TV, the one from Carlisle to Gateshead.

Life’s a beach

You can’t have a proper holiday without spending a day on the beach. And despite being in the far north of Scotland, that’s exactly what we did today.

I knew the day would be a good’un when Liesel brought me a cup of tea in bed. Followed by toast. The view from our bed is pretty good, so we just sat there and admired it for a couple of hours.

When we finally got up and set off for a walk, of course we went the wrong way. Well, it’s a 50-50 chance. Daisy soon put us right. She looks a bit full, but Liesel declined the offer of a drink of fresh milk.

We passed by a pretty loch: in fact, there are at least a couple nearby.

Past the craft village, past an old church and we found Balnakeil Beach. The wind had really calmed down since yesterday, and there were very few other people on the beach. Just the way we like it.

What a lovely expanse of sand to walk along. The sand dunes are a Sight of Special Scientific Interest so we’re asked not to walk on them. We thought this might be due to the presence of nesting birds, but other than a few ordinary gulls (no offence, ordinary gulls), we didn’t see anything of unusual ornithological interest today.

We had several attempts at taking a selfie with a decent background. This is the least worst.

Halfway along the beach, there’s a rocky outcrop. I investigated, with a view to maybe clambering over to the other half of the beach. This proved too difficult. I could have walked around it, but the tide was too high. So I walked back and around: the long, sensible route that Liesel had taken and I caught up with her having a sit down on a nice grass tussock.

There were lots of little beetles scurrying about on the sand. There are 400,000 species of beetle but I couldn’t quite put my finger on which one this is.

Actually, there was a flock of small birds out on the water, too far away to be able to identify, but some kind of marine duck. They were happy diving but then after a while, we realised they’d disappeared.

The texture of the sand varied. Soft and dry in some places, fairly solid sometimes, and occasionally soft and squidgy, we were leaving quite deep footprints. The sea was very calm today, and as it was unexpectedly warm, I wish I’d brought my swimwear. But until very recently, I never even thought about a sandy beach on the north coast of Scotland, never mind entering the cold Atlantic waters.

We sat down for a while and watched the people. by which I mean the two other people who arrived just as we sat down. They drew a picture in the sand so of course, when they’d wandered off to the other end of the beach, I had to enhance their artwork. After which, we beat a hasty retreat.

It’s the first day of the Tour de France so while on the beach, we watched it on my phone for a few minutes. What amazing technology, and really unexpected to have such a good 4G signal on the beach a couple of miles from the small town of Durness. You’re using up your 4G data allowance on watching TV, Mick? Yes, I know, strange huh? It’s a long story but I had to guess how much data I’d need for a couple of weeks here, knowing we’d be on Google Maps quite a lot. My previous allowance ran out on our first day here, so I just bought a reasonably big package. 80 GB since you ask. For a month. A week later and I only have 77.97 GB left. So squandering it by watching TV is not likely to cause problems later on!

We walked back along the beach, which was now becoming more busy. Nothing like Formby on a hot day, of course. We had a quick look at the old Balnakeil Church and its graveyard.

I am indebted to Captain Mackay John Scobie whose tomb I sat on while shaking the last of the sand from my shoes. He worked for the so-called Honourable East India Company and died nearby in Keoldale aged just 44 in 1818. Also here is the grave of Elizabeth Parkes, aunt of the famous Beatle John Lennon, according to the information panels.

And as if the day couldn’t get any better, our walk back home took us past the craft village and, oh dearie me, Cocoa Mountain. We enjoyed a coffee here plus some of their fine chocolate.

Neither of us wanted to spend a lot of time looking at all the arty crafty places in the village, but we did venture into Mudness, where Martina MacLeod has been producing ceramics since 1991. Liesel came away with a yarn bowl and a small puffin.

Back at our hut, we watched the rest of the day’s live coverage of the Tour de France on TV, not at all enjoying the two big crashes. Poor old Chris Froome always seems to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. But it’s great to see Mark Cavendish back at the Tour.

I completed another really difficult Arrow Sudoku puzzle. This one took 75 minutes, a record that I’m not proud of, but I am proud that I solved it at all, in the end. We watched the bunnies, we listened to Classic FM, thanks Moira Stuart and Andrew Collins. Liesel’s crocheting project continues, but I do miss the clicketty-clack of knitting needles!