dreams – Mick and Liesel's Antics

Bugs and bigger beasts

Liesel and I returned to her Mom’s apartment, which was just as warm as it always is, even without the heating being turned on.

After a bit of a rest, I was still jetlagged and bedazzled, but happy to join Liesel as we drove over to a friend’s house. Along with many other people, we’d been invited to a Henna Party, something us blokes wouldn’t normally attend, but this was an opportunity for everyone to meet and get to know Rupert a little better: that’s Jyoti’s fiancé Rupert.

The two bottles of Pimm’s that I’d successfully brought over were enjoyed by many of us at the party, mixed with lemonade and with plenty of fruit added.

Thanks to Melanie and Dave for hosting the party, there was an overwhelming number of people here, some of whom I have met before, including some to whom I couldn’t immediately put a name.

Many of the ladies had henna applied to their hands, in complex patterns, but as I’d been up for over 24 hours, Liesel dragged us away home before her hands could be decorated. Boy, I had a good night’s sleep!

My first full day back in Alaska was relaxed. So relaxed, we even went for a pedicure. The cheese-grater got a good workout on my heels, thank you very much. We paid a short visit to Amrit’s office to quickly address an administrative matter. The view of the mountains was unusual. Then I realised: there was no snow. Last time I saw this vista, people were speed skating on the ice that covered the park just over the road.

We lunched at Bear Tooth, mainly because Liesel’s first choice, the newly opened Eye Tooth, wasn’t open today

Later on, we visited Jyoti’s place for dinner. About 20 people came over, some from Anchorage, some from Talkeetna and a couple of folks from much further afield.

Jyoti’s dhal was as delicious as ever and I’m sure the carnivores enjoyed their chicken. Someone suggested going out for a quick walk, so we did. A very short walk, just to the bluff overlooking Turnagain Arm.

There were a few sandhill cranes down on the mudflats, hard to spot from this distance. Then from a distance, we saw a small flock of them take off and entertain us with a flypast.

Even more exciting was the sight of a couple of bald eagles in flight.

Someone remarked on how lucky it was that the cat that had been lurking nearby had now gone back indoors. It would have been a nice snack for the eagle.

Liesel drove us home around sunset, so it was interesting to see the Alpenglow on the distant Chugach Mountains, even without snow to reflect much light.

The first long(-ish) walk of this visit took place early(-ish) in the morning. We wandered down to Westchester Lagoon, Liesel setting the goal of turning around at the second bridge. Some people were paddle-boarding and kayaking in the lagoon, and after a while, we finally found the family of swans that Liesel had told us about. The cygnets are pretty much fully grown, but their plumage is still baby grey.

A few colourful flowers brightened the place up, and we noticed that some of the trees’ leaves have begun to change colour: Autumn is just around the corner.

Common toadflax or butter-and-eggs or brideweed

We walked slowly back home, and Liesel drew my attention to some skis in a most unusual place.

She said that round the corner, there was a stick library. I asked why someone would want to borrow a stick? She said that people don’t but dogs do.

Which makes perfect sense in a city where there are approximately 17 dogs per capita. I don’t know if that figure’s correct, but I extrapolated from the number of people we saw today compared with the number of dogs.

I was able to have a bit of a nap in the afternoon, before the main event of this visit.

Anchorage Museum was a great venue for a wedding ceremony, and this is where Jyoti and Rupert celebrated their nuptials.

Liesel, Leslie and I were amongst the first to arrive. We met some of the same people that we’d seen over the last two nights, at Melanie’s and at Jyoti’s.

It was nice to be reacquainted with Theresa, our companion when we walked Hadrian’s Wall a couple of years ago, and to meet her daughter Neela for the first time.

It’s a sign of the times, I suppose, that I was very conscious of not saying something that could be misconstrued. All the ladies were telling each other how wonderful, how gorgeous they were looking, all dressed up beautifully for the occasion. Several times, I too thought “You look nice”, but in this post-#MeToo age, I felt uncomfortable vocalising this, especially to the younger members of the fairer sex. What a shame. But they could all have come from the pages of a fashion magazine.

The food was plentiful, charcuterie, vegetarian samosas, lamb & turkey kabobs, tandoori chicken, potato chips, chocolate and enough cupcakes to sink a battleship.

The marriage ceremony was beautifully conducted by Una, who you may remember, joined Liesel and me in unholy matrimony all those years ago.

It was then time to party with nice mix of western and Indian music. I wandered around a bit, greeting people and even climbing the stairs for a better view of the proceeedings.

I’m glad I hadn’t eaten too much when the time came to make my mark on the dancefloor. I managed not to tread on anybody’s foot, so I’d call that a success.

People started drifting away, and the hosts were packing up as Liesel, Leslie and I left. Later, we found out that the bride and groom and several guests had moved on to another venue to continue their debauchery well into the night.

After all that excercise, I had a really good night’s sleep, even if the dreams were a little weird.

After dropping her Mom off at Aaron’s house, Liesel drove me for a massage. Debbie’s been around for a long time but this was the first time I’d met her. Her massage was fantastic, very relaxing, and highly recommended. And it was booked well before I decided to show off my moves on the dance floor last night.

Liesel had also planned a date with Catherine and Hans, and we drove up to their house for lunch. Cath had baked quiches for us which we enoyed, while watching the weather. The plan was to go for a walk, but it looked decidedly murky out there.

Cook Inlet viewed from Cath and Hans’s house

And yes, it did start raining, so our planned walk was delayed and eventually cancelled. Still, we had a good chat about this and that. They’re now off to Switzerland, but I forgot to tell them that I’d seen some skis up a tree, if they needed some.

Dinner was planned for Phở Lena but this venue was closed. Plan B then was So Thai, and that’s where we met up with Aaron, Jodi and Mom for a very nice pad thai.

No, we weren’t magically teleported to Guildford, Surrey, England: this is just one of the photos Pauline sent me from our old hometown.

After leaving the Thai restaurant, Jodi and Liesel visited the shop next door, Enlighten Alaska. The sign on the door said ‘No pets allowed’, so I didn’t go in.

At Alaska Botanical Gardens, the ticket clerk assured us that there had been no bear sightings recently, but we did notice a large ursine deposit by the boundary fence.

The gardens are very well presented and we enjoyed a very pleasant walk.

Although we’d come for a walk and to enjoy the flowers and other plants, we were also impressed by some of the sculptures.

Tempting, but we didn’t want to spend a few thousand dollars on a collection of rusty bicycle wheels pretending to be a tree.

There’s a pair of large magpies here, made from local willow, alder and birch branches.

Night and Day, by The Myth Makers, Doona Dodson and Andy Moerlein

Look closely and you’ll see a little Liesel and Leslie, just for scale.

We decided to follow the extra mile long trail, and we were joined by a young lady from Colombia, now teaching here in Anchorage. She said she was scared to walk any further by herself, as she was a bit scared. She apologised for her bad English, but there was nothing wrong with it. Plusl, our collective Spanish was no good. Dos cervezas, por favor.

We saw more evidence of approaching Fall, or Autumn.

Vibrant fall foliage of Mapleleaf Viburnum

We noticed as we wandered around that there were no birds singing. And apart from a few bees, there were very few insects. I did spot this well camouflaged little chap.

The separate Herb Garden was interesting too. The biggest herb growing here was rhubarb, but this is pretty:

A quick errand took us to Monica’s house after which we returned home for dinner and to watch some ~~cra…~~ thing on TV.

There must be something in the air or the water here, because I had more weird dreams. After breakfast, we left the city, visiting Portage, famous for its glacier which has now receded a mile and a half since Liesel was born. Not that I’m blaming Liesel, but we got nowhere near it. And it was on this drive that I saw the first snow of my trip. Just a few patches on the mountains across Turnagain Arm, but it all counts.

Of course, a few spots snow aren’t as interesting as the glacier which we saw from a distance.

We haven’t visited Whittier since that time many years ago when we joined Cath and Hans on their boat. The tunnel is longer than I remembered, two and a half miles, and just one lane, so vehicle convoys enter the tunnel in alternating directions every half hour. We were lucky in both directions, we didn’t have to wait too long at all.

The first thing we noticed as we emerged into Whittier was how much lower the clouds were on this side of the mountains.

We decided the visibility was too poor, there was no point in joining a boat trip today. But how lucky were we to see a train about to go through the tunnel.

We didn’t spend a lot of time here, just admiring the calm sea and its mineral rich colour, which doesn’t really show well in photos. This is when I wish I were a painter instead.

More sightseeing on the way back, of course.

Byron Peak and Byron Glacier in Portage Valley, Alaska, as seen from Portage Lake

We even stopped off at Williwaw Salmon Viewing area where we did indeed view some very sluggish salmon trying to make their way up the narrow stream.

This was as close as we got to seeing any wildlife. Not even a moose by the roadside.

Back in Anchorage, we had a late lunch at South, a popular restaurant. While Liesel and Leslie had proper, big, American meals, I was quite satisfied with my Cauliflower Tacos (v, gf): cornmeal crust, sofrito, roasted poblano, avocado, cilantro, flour tortillas. All washed down with a long refreshing gin and tonic based beverage.

The two moms sitting near us with their young children left enough food on the floor to feed the 5,000. I believe a reasonable tip was left for the staff!

We thought it would be a nice day out to visit Alaska Zoo. I remember the first time I was taken, many years ago, in the depths of Winter. It was so cold that day, even the Siberian tigers didn’t emerge from their dens. Today was pleasantly mild, but I think the Siberian tigers must have moved on to that great celestial zoo with much bigger plains on which to roam.

The thing that struck us today was just how much fencing and chicken wire and mesh there is. Plus how much plastic there is in the animals’ pens. The place seemed a bit worn out, shabby even, compared with, say, Chester Zoo. It needs a bit of a touch up, some new signs, some fresh paint. And they really should think about replacing all that tight mesh. But despite this handicap, I did get a few good photos.

I took some pictures through the mesh, believing that I could use an AI tool to ‘remove’ the cage elements from the image. No luck there. I’ll try again when AI has grown up a bit.

Two hours at the zoo was plenty, and back in town, we had a late lunch at New Sagaya, Midtown Market branch, not the one just over the road from Leslie’s apartment.

The good news is that on this visit to Anchorage, my nose hasn’t been bleeding nearly as much as it usually does, for which I am very grateful.

A quick week

As many people have noted, July was a very quick month. And this week went by very quickly too. Not much happened. We didn’t walk as much as we should have. Liesel took her Mom to Oldham for some TLC.

I can’t believe this plant is really called Red Robin: that could be confusing if I were an avid bird watcher.

One of the most exciting things I saw this week was the lawn mower in Wythenshawe Park.

That’s a nice sit-down job, I thought, I could do that. Then I remembered. Again. I’m not actually looking for a job at the moment.

There’s a Fun Fair in the park too right now, but on the day I paid a visit, there weren’t many people around, even though the school holidays have now started.

There’s some gym equipment in the park, near the children’s playground. It’s been there for over five minutes, and this is Wythenshawe so of course, it’s been vandalised already. What is the matter with people? A question we often ask when we’re picking litter, for example. But we’ve currenly run out of bags and I’ve tried to acquire some more. What a load of faff. Being told to fill in a form on a website that I only have read access to. I think I’ve now applied to the correct department, but so far, no response. What is wrong with people? It should be easy to pick up some litter bags. Whinge number 1 of the week.

I’ve been selling stuff on eBay and this week I had to send an item using Evri. Not my choice. But it was delivered OK, a couple of days later. They even sent a photo as proof of delivery. It proves nothing of the sort. Well, see for yourself:

What a farce. Whinge number 2.

I’ve started doing Killer Sudokus on my phone again. They’re quite tough. They often require deep concentration. If this or that number go there, then that cell’s got to be something or something, which means those cells can only be this or that, therefore that cell can only be a 4. Eureka! At which point, I realise that ten minutes ago, Liesel said something, so I can now process what she said, think about it and respond appropriately.

This week, we went to watch William’s swimming class. He’s pretty good, actually! We ate round at their house afterwards, thank you Jenny and Liam. Martha showed us her collection of rocks and gemstones, many of whch she can identify. Thank goodness Google was able to help me identify a couple of others!

Sometimes, walking around Northenden can be a bit gloomy, expecially when it’s a cloudy day. But I was delighted to see a splash of colour this week.

Very cheap and totally realistic flowers

Another major project that I’ve been working up for a while was to remove all the duplicate photos from my computer. Doing so manually was too daunting, so I downloaded a program to do the job. Out of 192,000 images, it detected over 106,000 duplicates and in the end, it deleted 67,000. I recovered over 200 GB of storage. In the old days, I would now have to defrag the disk, but I don’t think you have to do that any more.

Like I said, a quick week and we are now into August. I’m on new medication and I think one of the side effects is very vivid dreams. So I’ve been reacquainting myself with old friends, getting lost on my bike, but at least I haven’t had any work related dreams for a while. Onwards and upwards.

Wine tasting and seeing Elvis

And so for our first little side-trip. After setting off from home, our first stop was just down the road. Not very far at all, but we were pleased to take Pauline and Andrew to the Freshwater Brewing Company where we’d had one of our first coffees, what feels like many weeks ago, now.

The drive to Cessnock was uneventful, we chose to follow the ‘tourist’ route rather than stay on the main road. There was a lot less traffic, and some of the views were stunning.

Happiness is an empty road and blue skies

I snapped the sign because that might well be the only wombat we see in the wild.

How exciting to be driving an electric vehicle though. What we didn’t realise at first was that we picked it up with the battery only about 65% charged. Here begins a week of time-consuming activity and anxiety, trying to find the next, convenient, fast charging point.

We stopped at a place in the middle of nowhere for a comfort break. The locals in the shop/café all stopped talking and turned around to look at us as we walked in. Just a little bit intimidating, and not at all what we’re used to in Australia.

As we drove off, Andew casually asked, ‘Where’s Pauline?’ The driver, Liesel, turned round to confirm that my sister was indeed missing from her customary back seat. While we were all getting back into the car, Pauline had wandered over to what turned out to be the actual toilet block. We can laugh about leaving Pauline behind, now…

I don’t know why, but we still laugh at funny place names: Convicts Trail, Blackbutt Creek and one that I don’t really want to report here.

To protect the Hunter Valley, its vineyards and grapes, we’re not allowed to take grapevines beyond a certain point. In other local news, there’s a huge campaign against
Wollombi Road being widened to four lanes.

The four of us stopped at The Valley Brewhouse for lunch and we knew it was the correct place when Helen and Brent walked in about ten minutes later.

It took a long time trying to explain what a shandy is. Especially since ‘bitter’ here is not the same as ‘bitter’ at home. What I got was very refreshing and a perfect accompaniment to my salad and chips. I didn’t want to consume too much alcohol yet, because later in the afternoon, our first wine-tasting session was scheduled.

Saddler’s Creek Wines has been going since 1990 so you’d think they’d know what they’re doing by now. And they really do. Our host, Scott, certainly knows his stuff.

Here’s Scott. He spent many years grooming that beard so he’d look like the picture on the label. He described each of the 13 wines we sampled, and in the end, Liesel and I bought three bottles.

Here we all are, several glasses down the hatch

I wish I could describe the wines using the same poetic, imaginative and even technical language that Scott used. He would talk about orange and lemon and water-melon, and all I could taste was a generic fruit flavour. I could tell the difference between ‘dry’ and ‘sweet’ but I couldn’t tell the difference between wine from an American oak cask and a French oak cask. This one is obviously French, not Italian in origin, he’d say. Oh really?! It seems so feeble just saying ‘ooh I like this’ or ‘nah, not so keen’.

Some of the wines were indeed ‘easy on the palate’. Some you drink on its own, and some goes well with a big fat beef steak, or sea food. Or in my case, a bag of crisps, probably.

We drove (yes, I said ‘drove’, not ‘wove’) to our gorgeous b&b in Cessnock. Just the six of us in the end, a couple of people had dropped out, but it accommodates eight people. It’s a great place, in a nice neighbourhood, quite close to the town centre, and with spectacular views. As sunset approached, we even caught some sunbeams.

Maybe because of having imbibed more wine than I usually do, especially during the daytime, I wasn’t very hungry. At The Goldfish I had double dip chips: black bean dip, hummus and corn tortillas. It hit the spot.

Back at the b&b, Liesel reversed the car onto the drive, so that we could attempt to charge the battery overnight. It worked, but not a lot of charge was added.

It was pretty much a full Moon tonight, so I didn’t hold out much hope of seeing many stars. But peeking between the clouds, I could see a couple of bright things, maybe satellites. But what a good way to end the day, by at least trying see the stars.

In the morning, the car’s battery was up to 38%, hardly a cause for celebration. And even though we were being driven about today, we couldn’t leave the car continuing to charge because you’re not supposed to leave the cable out in the Sun. And it did look as though it would be warm and sunny today.

Helen had spoken a lot about Robyne, who had the honour of driving us around today in her minbus. More wine-tasting was on the cards at three, yes, three more wineries.

First up was Domaine de Binet. Here we sampled 17 wines, if you include the gin and moscato, which, after all the wine samples, was different and refreshing. The host, Paul, knew his stuff and he was quieter than Scott

I tried to recall some of what I learned yesterday. Riesling is a notch up from Semillon. I’d learned a new word too: some wines have a high level of basic minerality: I didn’t ask whether this explained why some wines leave a chalky feeling in the mouth

As well as the wine, we were able to sample some of the locally produced chilli chutneys. Yes, we bought a jar of that as well as more wine.

The next thing I remember seeing is Brent lying underneath Robyne’s car, which was refusing to start. As a former car mechanic, Brent knew exactly what he was doing: bashing the starter motor with a big stick! It was a hot day to be fixing cars, and I did what I could to help, by staying well out of the way.

The second winery of the day was, I think, my favourite, being in a great location and, was I beginning to acquire a more appreciative set of taste buds? Elbourne Wines is a boutique family vineyard producing award-winning hand-crafted wine. Adam, the host, took us through eleven more wines and at the end of the session, Liesel and I purchased another three bottles. We’ve got to get these home somehow. Still, that’s a problem for mañana.

I can’t remember now who it was that compared Australian verdelho to Portuguese green wine: or maybe that was just a weird alcohol-induced dream.

And at all the venues, excess wine was poured into a bucket on the table, and nobody was offended. None of us embarrassed the hosts by spitting into the spittoons.

Someone said there’s no such thing as bad wine, just bad choice of company or food or environment. Well, I’ve had some vinegar that thought it was wine in the past, although that wasn’t the case with anything over these two days.

Poor old Robyne had to rent another vehicle to drive us around in, since hers would no longer reliably start. As it only had five seats, she had to ferry us around in two groups, twice as much driving.

Our delightful lunch was at Four Pines Brewing at the Farm, in Hunter Valley.

The final wine tasting session was at McGuigan’s. We’ve seen this wine advertised before Brokenwood on TV, a gentle police drama from New Zealand. After a couple of wines here, I realised I wasn’t really tasting it any more. I couldn’t even say a basic ‘I like it’, now. I think it was Scott yesterday who said that the more wine you drink, the sweeter your perception becomes. Maybe that’s why I thought I’d had enough, although at the time, I didn’t register that all the wine was tasting sweet.

Still, I sampled six wines here before giving up. That’s a total of 48 or something, over two days. But as ever, without looking at the notes we made, can I remember the names of those that I particularly liked? Nope. I certainly don’t have an oenophile’s memory.

Robyne was kind enough to drive Liesel, Pauline, Andrew and me back to our pad the long way round, so that we could see some kangaroos and other Australian icons.

The Covent Hunter Valley Luxury Boutique Hotel

This hotel has an interesting story. The convent was once in a different location, contructed in about 1876. When it was demolished, the parts were all labelled and preserved so that it could be rebuilt. It is now a hotel.

The sunset was gorgeous and it was interesting seeing stars appear one by one in the dark sky. I managed to capture alpha Centauri and the Southern Cross, after much trial and error with the phone.

In the end, the mosquitoes drove us back indoors. Helen and Brent, the young people, dined out while us oldies just snacked at home and had an early night.

Cessnock is a great little town, and that’s where we had breakfast, at a coffee shop which doubles as a Thai restaurant.

Helen and Brent both had work commitments, but we four ancients had the luxury of being able to stop on the way home. So that’s what we did, at the Australian Reptile Park in Somersby. Not everyone’s cup of tea, I know, so feel free to skip this bit, you herpetophobics!

It was a perfect day for a wander and we did see some intersting animals. They’re doing a lot for conservation here too. And not everything was reptilian either, there are plenty of feathered and furry friends.

I don’t suppose we’ll ever see a platypus out in the wild, so this was a good opportunity.

I don’t suppose we’ll ever see an American alligator out in the wild, either, but that’s mainly because it’s very unlikely we’ll ever visit the Mississippi or the Florida swamps. Today, the ‘gators were just lying in the Sun, which was rather pleasant.

I’d like to say I was playing Diamond Dogs when we saw these similarly named but very different creatures. But I wasn’t.

It’s that sort of day for a reptile, I guess, just lying around.

On the other hand, we’ve never seen such energetic echidnas. Several were running round like spikey dodgems. Very entertaining.

This poor old thing (the tortoise, not Andrew) had had an accident with some rocks, which damaged his lower shell. It hasn’t ruined his appetite though.

There was a reptile show later, after which we were invited to have our pictures taken with some of the animals, a python, a koala and a couple of others. None of us were seriously tempted. We were however tempted by lunch, which we enjoyed at a picnic table, not too far from Elvis.

He wasn’t moving around much, either!

We all thought dingoes were all sandy coloured, but no, here are two very handsome black ones. They enjoyed being fed, but as soon as the bucket was empty, they lost interest in their human companion and went about their own business.

Somehow, we missed seeing the cassowary, but we couldn’t miss this lovely chap.

It was trivia night again at the Harbord Hotel, and we took part. Later, joined by Jacqui and Nat, and we all had a jolly good time. But for even more late night entertainment, we decided to try and charge up the car. We found a charging point, eventually, and felt obliged to have a drink inside the establishment. Another misunderstanding. I got myself a ginger beer, and as requested, I got one for Liesel too. Only she didn’t want one. When Liesel mentioned ginger beer, it was to warn me that here, it’s alcoholic. So, I had two glasses of ginger beer, even though I was planning not to have alcohol for a while, because I felt there was still a healthy medley of wine flowing through my system. I slept well, though.

Blue and yellow

Well again there’s not much going on in real life in Northenden. But in my dreamworld, it’s all going on: I’m getting lost, I’m losing my bike, and sometimes I wake up feeling really good but I can’t remember why. In Anchorage, Liesel’s being arty and finding some colour.

This paint pouring looks fun but very messy. We can’t wait to get the children involved. Ideally at their house of course, not ours 😉

It was rare this week, but always a joy to see the Sun even if we couldn’t really feel it. But it was cold enough for this pigeon to be frozen to the spot.

Actually, I think this is the first falcon I’ve seen in Northenden, what a shame it’s not a real one. Maybe the buildings aren’t tall enough.

The river’s subsided significantly, but it has left a lot of debris behind, mainly trees, logs and of course the ubiquitous plastic.

I had an unexpected road trip. Jenny asked if I could pick her up from work as Liam was busy. Of course, I said, expecting to have to fight the rush hour at about 5 o’clock, maybe 5.30. But no, it was about 8 o’clock when I got the call. I don’t think I’ve ever driven into Mancheter in the dark before. Yes, we’ve driven home after a show but I can’t remember the last time either of us have actually set off anywhere that late in the day. What an adventure! See, I can have a good time now and then!

This Tuesday was pancake day. So I made pancakes for myself. I made the usual quantity, intending to keep some for the next day. Well, that didn’t happen. I just stuffed myself with all of them. All topped them off with the traditional fresh lemon juice and sugar.

But, in a moment of madness, I ate them in a stack rather than rolled up. Two stacks, as it happens. I should go and consult the doctor and see if there’s anything they can do about me slowly turning American. Maybe it’s Liesel’s long-distance influence.

I didn’t visit Fletcher Moss Gardens this week, but I did start reading a book about the venue.

Fletcher Moss Gardens: Its History and Plants

It’s very informative, telling us about the plants there, some of which are quite rare. Which makes one wonder if they’re OK being inundated with flood water every year or so. I’m sure they know what they’re doing.

Child-minding day. William was dressed as the Gruffalo and Martha as Isadora Moon.

When William came out of his class, I asked if he’d enjoyed International Book Day. “World Book Day” he replied, putting me in my place. It was fun seeing all the children, and teachers, dressed as some favourite literary characters.

There’s a tragedy unfolding in Ukraine right now and I’m seeing the flag everywhere I look.

Even the school playground is showing solidarity with the Ukrainian people. As usual, I’m wondering what I can do to help and I end up sending money to whichever organisations or individuals are offering practical help to the refugees.

This week’s radio show celebrates World Women’s Day. Yes, I did that on purpose, because I can just hear William correcting me again: “International Women’s Day”. An all-female cast of performers of course. And thanks to Jenny for providing some brand new feminine jingles!

There was a power cut during the show’s first outing on Wythenshawe Radio so it dropped out for a couple of minutes. It’s being repeated on Tuesday 8th March at midday, that’s International Women’s Day, as well as on Wednesday at the exciting, brand new time of 10pm.

And just a reminder that we are in meteorological Spring now, looking forward to the Spring equinox and Easter and we can finally forget the long, cold, wet and windy Winter.

Слава Україні!

Mindblowing

For some reason, I had to go to Brighton and deliver mail there. Or was it Portsmouth? Anyway, I don’t know my way around either place. And the addresses on the mail consisted solely of just one cryptic word. How am I supposed to deliver mail to places when I don’t know where they are? I just had to keep asking the locals. I must have managed ok in the end though, because when I got back to the office, someone pointed out that I’d forgotten to take all the packets and parcels out with me. The sense of relief that engulfed me when I woke up was almost overwhelming. Why am I still having anxiety dreams about the last job I had? Usually, at a certain point in the dream, I realise that I’m retired and actually, I don’t have to be here at all. Sometimes I’m aware that I haven’t been taking my days off for a few weeks, to the point that I’ve lost track of which day is my day off. I think I’d rather have a proper scary nightmare than these dreams about Royal Mail and the many, many ways in which they can make a straightforward job so stressful. In my dreamworld, because of problems in the Chessington Delivery Office, I’ve been variously despatched to the basement, to New Malden and to Waterloo Station to prepare the mail for delivery. I’ve been unable to enter the Office because it’s so full of mail and parcels, that there’s no room for actual people to go in and do anything with it. I’ve never had anxiety dreams about exams or moving house or other stressful events, nor indeed about any other jobs. So I’m hoping that by telling you about this recent, horrible, nighttime experience, the scenario will be expunged from the repertoire in my dreamworld mechanism.

In the real world, things just plod on normally, uneventfully. Except that this week I succumbed to the games Wordle and Nerdle. I wasn’t convinced at first, not sure about what I was meant to be doing, but after a couple of days, I quite enjoy a few minutes of mental exercise each day. This is in addition to my daily allowance of an hour attempting a Slitherlink puzzle, which is ridiculously addictive. It’s always a disappointment when the app timer tells me ‘time’s up’ and it takes immense willpower not to extend the time for today, but sometimes I just have to eat etc.

Jenny invited me over to share some of the three tonnes of spaghetti bolognese she’d prepared in her cauldron. It was fun to spend time with the children, Martha fresh from her swimming lesson.

Martha and William enjoying a cold dessert

It was wet and windy and we were issued with flood warnings, but on this occasion, the level of the river went down quite quickly. Our local councillors were on the case, monitoring the situation, and there was no need to open the flood gates. One victim of the strong winds was our oak tree. It lost a few digits, bigger than the twigs that usually blow off.

We’ve been advised to wear hard hats when we leave the block of luxury apartments. By the river, the birds are clinging on tight so they don’t get blown into orbit.

There are signs of Spring approaching though. Our local village green is gradually turning purple as the crocuses make an appearance.

I haven’t been for a long time but I was amazed to see how much Kingston station has changed over the last couple of years.

No, this is Kingston in the south of New Zealand’s South Island, which is a bit more remote than The Royal Borough of course. Thank you Pauline for sending the pictures, and glad you’re having a nice break.

Walks around Northenden and the local area are always fun but the cold, biting wind really did get on my nerves this week. I told it to go back where it came from. To no avail. The contrast between that and the intermittent warmth of the Sun was striking.

There are splashes of colour, especially when the Sun’s at the right angle. And Fletcher Moss Park is also showing early signs of Spring.

On the way to school to pick up William and Martha, the clouds put on a good show. I wasn’t the only (grand-) parent taking pictures.

While waiting for Martha to come out of her class, William decided he was a caterpillar, crawling under the climbing apparatus.

We played at their house for a while before setting off for mine.The plan had been to bring them back here and have takeaway pizza for dinner. But Jenny had forgotten. The pizza was good, so good in fact, that I ate the leftovers the following day.

I battled the cold wind again as I walked around Wythenshawe with the group, once I dragged myself out of bed, that is.

This was the first week of the Winter Olympics and I’ve enjoyed some of the sports, especially the curling, which is very slow and methodical. The ice hockey is far too fast, I can’t see what’s going on. I suggest using a much bigger, heavier puck, to slow it down a bit. And as for the skiers and snowboarders doing multiple twists and turns in the big air, well, it probably isn’t as easy as they make it look.

Liesel continues to bounds out of bed very early every morning over there in Anchorage. She continues to work hard, doing legal work. (She’s probably having more fun doing illegal work, but she’s not telling me about that.) This week, her Dad, Klaus, had his heart surgery and is doing very well. Liesel’s been chauffeuring Klaus and her Mom Leslie to hospitals and shops. Good to see she’s staying out of trouble, so far, at least.

While Klaus had heart surgery, I visited the dental hygienist just to show solidarity.

This week’s radio show was about Art and Artists It’ll be repeated on Wythenshawe Radio WFM 97.2 next Wednesday at 7pm, but for your convenience, it is available here:

Vaccine and Maxine

I can announce that in a very real way, there is light at the end of this very long, dark, isolated tunnel. The end is indeed nigher. I received my first Covid vaccination this week and it was quite an emotional experience. I floated out of the centre singing about my invincibility! Well, not really, but I am a very happy and grateful bunny.

This event took place on the 42nd anniversary of the day Sarah and I married in Headcorn. And, as if to remind me just how cold it was on that February day, I had to scrape ice and snow off the car before driving to the vaccination centre. I can’t remember the last time I did that. Not because the weather’s been really warm of course, but because we just haven’t been anywhere.

My appointment was at exactly the right time too. As I sat down, one of the volunteers brought in hot chocolate and biscuits for the staff. ‘Perfect timing’, I uttered. She gave me a biscuit and then said ‘You might as well have one of these as well’.

‘Don’t flash them about, otherwise they’ll all want one!’ So please don’t tell anybody.

Liesel and I went out for our first litter picking walk this week, too. We didn’t go too far from home, but did we collect much? Yes sir, yes sir, three bags full.

It was chilly but thankfully the cold east wind wasn’t too strong today.

We watched some more online entertainment this week, of a political nature, unusual for us, but fascinating just the same.

Christopher Eccleston read a story about the 1984 miners’ strike which was very moving, about how one family had fallen apart. There followed a discussion which reminded me of a lot of the goings-on at the time.

Karen, the host from Hosmans; Maggie Gee; Maxine Peake

The following evening, we watched the always delightful Maxine Peake read a story about the night cleaners’ strike of 1972. The ensuing discussion included Maggie Gee, an author whom I met several years ago at Kingston Readers’ Festival.

These two events were hosted by Housmans bookshop in London. Won’t it be lovely when we can visit in real life? Any bookshop. Anywhere, really.

Despite the baltic conditions, Liesel and I did venture out for a wander by the river, which has receded to its previous, low, safe levels. And here’s an early sign of Spring.

On the other hand, here’s a sign that really, we’re still in the depths of Winter.

This is the field where we sometimes have a chat with the horses, but they were out of sight today, hopefully indoors, sitting round a nice warm fire, watching daytime TV.

Liesel spotted a block of ice on top of a fence post.

Well, not really on top. It looks like the pole filled with water which then froze, and as it expanded the ice escaped through the top. I haven’t seen anything like this since the really olden days when we had milk delivered in bottles. The milk and cream would freeze, expand, push the top off the bottle, and reach for the sky.

We didn’t see our heron today, but we did see this happy couple gliding by.

You can win a bonus point by telling us what these birds really are.

There was a slight smell of smoke in the air and we finally tracked down the culprits. They were burning some wood on the golf course which, a couple of weeks ago, had been the flood relief plain.

Fire on the golf course (not to be confused with the latest single by Sophie Ellis-Bextor)

When you see that much wood deposited, you realise just how powerful the river must have been during those few days.

One of the funniest things we saw was this dog.

It was down by the river, hiding form its owners who were delighted to be playing the game.

The island has been revealed for the first time in a while. And, with the grim inevitablity of Paul McCartney performing Hey Jude with far too much audience participation at one of his concerts, there is already a car tyre lying there.

Northenden is proud to announce that it has become the new headquarters for NATO.

I don’t want to breach their security or anything, but this compass is on the pavement outside Boho Tanning and Beauty and Himalayas Tea in Palatine Road. And yet I don’t think I’ve noticed it before.

Something else new to Northenden (well, new to me in Northenden):

He didn’t mind me taking his picture, even though I had no cash on me to put in the hat that he didn’t take off. I offered him a coffee instead but he declined, saying it was too cold for this game and that he was going home. I next saw him at the bus stop.

On a palindromic date, 12/2/21 or 12022021, I presented a show on Radio Northenden posing the question, What is Love? Two hours of silly love songs. This is in honour of my 42nd anniversary with Sarah, mentioned above, my 15th with Liesel next Tuesday and it being Valentine’s Day on Sunday. Love is in the air, everywhere I look around. Love is in the air, every sight and every sound. Oh, I just realised, I didn’t actually play that particular song. But please listen if you want some of that love thang.

Slightly further afield, there was excitement on Mars too. The first ever spacecraft from a middle eastern country, the United Arab Emirates, has gone into orbit around the red planet. And this is quite a coincidence because also this week, I started reading my first ever book of Palestinian science fiction! Who knew there was such a thing? It’s a collection of short stories, looking forward to 2048, a hundred years after the Nakba, when hundreds of thousands of Palestians fled or were expelled from their homes. Thought-provoking to say the least.

Palestine+100 published by CommaPress.

The most recent book I finished was Salena Godden’s Mrs Death Misses Death. I wrote a review, not as eloquent as all the others I’ve seen, but it’s from the heart:

This book turned up on my Kindle on the day of publication, and I started reading it straightaway. I’ve been a fan of Salena and her poetry for a long time so I knew this would be good. And it really was. It’s happy and sad and funny and thought-provoking all the way through, not at all maudlin as you might expect from a book about Death. I was torn between reading it quickly to see how it ends and reading it slowly to soak up and appreciate the whole story. I know film and TV rights have been acquired and I am intrigued to see how that develops. But I also know I’ll be re-reading this book very soon, and I very rarely do that. I can’t get over how clever some of the sections (chapters?) are, with their use of language.

Highly recommended! Mrs Death Misses Death published by Canongate.

Here’s a blast from the past, probably about eleven years ago. And another coincidence: remember the UAE spacecraft is named ‘Hope’.

We were in a small town in Alaska called Hope, with some friends. The plan was to go for a walk, or hike, through the woods.

The trail was very pleasant, it meandered and undulated a bit and after a while, I was offered a pair of walking poles, to ‘help’. Why would I need them, I can trip over my own feet quite well, thank you.

‘Try just one then’, someone suggested. Oh all right.

So now I had three things to guide safely to ground level: two feet and a stick. And, inevitably, I put the pole down just off the edge of the path, expecting it to meet a solid surface, but it didn’t: it was like finding an extra step when you think you’ve reached the bottom of the stairs. Yes, of course I tripped and fell over. I was aware of being close to the edge of a bluff, a drop of several dozen feet.

Well, I wasn’t worried for myself. I was more concerned about 3-year old Neha to whom I was giving a piggy-back at the time. I successfully rolled over to protect her, blamed the stupid stick that I didn’t want in the first place and couldn’t apologise enough to Neha’s Mom*.

Walking poles? Portable trip hazards if you ask me.

*We are still friends.

Nothing much

There has been a lot of sitting about this week. As usual. We tend to sit when we’re doing our things. And when we’re not doing anything.

Mick: I’m going to write this week’s blog.
Liesel: But nothing happened this week.
Mick: Oh, I’m sure I’ll think of something.
Mick in his head: And if not, I’ll make something up.

So here we all are, living in a rainbow.

It would be rude to put up a picture of someone else’s Christmas lights (that doesn’t usually stop you) but it’s nice to see them going up, as we approach the end of November.

The cold, dark evenings don’t stop the vandals from venturing out, unfortunately.

Usually, we don’t use this picnic table beside the river because (a) someone else is sitting there (b) we didn’t bring a picnic or (c) most often, it’s just wet from all the rain.

It’s a bit late in the month, but here is our local war memorial in Northenden. We just haven’t been for a walk in this direction for quite a while.

We try to look up, not down, but some sights are just too horrible to ignore. Some people.

Things really are desperate when I resort to posting photos of what’s left of a chicken.

I was going to collect them and make a feather boa for somebody’s Christmas, but Liesel said No.

If you go down to the woods today, you’re sure of a big surprise. Well, I went down to the woods and I was surprised. One of the trees in Kenworthy Woods has been turned into a Christmas tree by three delightful cousins, Isabelle, Isaac and Jacob.

We’re all invited to go along and add our own baubles and tinsel. At the time of writing, there is a more conventional Christmas tree outside our local Tesco, but it hasn’t yet been decorated.

We went for a walk later than usual one day. Fearing that it might be dark by the time we got back home, I think we both walked a little faster than we intended. A jolly good work-out. And our reward was seeing some colour in the sky. Not quite the Northern Lights, but we’ll take anything colourful right now.

A little bit of pink and a little bit of orange.

One day we walked by the pub. There was a queue outside, and a group of people over the road with their pints, sharing space with the wheelie bins.

Everyone in Northenden will probably tell me this sign has been here for years, but I’ve only just noticed it.

At least with a 20 mph speed limit in the residential areas, some drivers might slow down to 40 or so, so that’s good.

We succumbed to temptation and purchased a Treat Box from The Northern Den: a chocolate orange cookie, a white chocolate and raspberry cookie, a jammie dodger cupcake, a Kinder Bueno cupcake, a biscoff brownie and an Oreo brownie. You want a photo? They didn’t last long enough! This cake wasn’t part of the deal, but it looks delicious.

Another fine cake from Dani’s Bakehouse, Northern Den

No I didn’t try a fingerful of icing, but it was close.

We were sitting at home doing nothing much when our ears perked up at the sound of clip-clopping. That sounds like horses, we said to each other. It was a funeral passing by, which is sad, but conversely, the most interesting thing that’s happened in our neighbourhood this week.

The theme for the radio show this week was Happiness (please listen here), so I had to include songs of that name by Ken Dodd and Tom Hingley, and you don’t often see those two in the same room.

This is a picture of me with the equipment for my Radio Northenden show, microphone and headphones.

Next week’s show is about Connection. Please send me your song suggestions and I’ll see what I can fit into the two hours. And don’t forget to tune in to Radio Northenden at two o’clock on Friday afternoon, it’ll be lovely to see your name up on the screen! (I don’t normally say what’s coming up next week because I haven’t decided a whole week in advance, but next week’s show should be special.)

Hmm, as we thought, not much occurred this week, so here’s something I made up. Well, my subconscious made it up to keep me entertained while I was sleeping.
Me and my old school friend Oscar flew to Sydney for the weekend. We then drove north to Hayman Island, Queensland. I knew we had to book in on the mainland before taking a boat to the island itself. We found the resort shop which was full of disappointingly cheap and nasty tourist tat. We booked our tickets and accommodation and then ate in the greasy spoon canteen. I had a good look round, but then I couldn’t find Oscar. He’d gone missing. I kept looking for him, I asked the receptionist where the nearest hotel was, Oscar might have gone for a kip. Oh no, there are no hotels here, she snootily replied. Then she remembered. Oh, there is a backpackers one just over there, pointing across the road, behind a fence. Well, it was nearby, but it was a long walk. I asked at their reception desk whether Oscar had booked in, the guy said he didn’t know. Then I remembered I could try and call or message him, but my phone was nearly dead, and in any case, the Internet was very slow. A pretty girl said, ‘There are problems with all the phones around here, I feel sorry for the girls.’ Girls? ‘Hookers.’ Oh well, my friend Oscar’s out here somewhere if you want try and find him. ‘Oh, I’m not a prostitute,’ she told me in no uncertain terms. I thought, well you’re pretty enough.
Notes:

In real life, I haven’t seen Oscar since he left for San Diego in about 1984.
Flying to Sydney for the weekend is not really a viable option.
Driving from Sydney to Hayman Island is not a quick trip. It’s probably a 24-hour drive.
Hayman Island is a beautiful resort in the Whitsundays. Hello, Adam! Have a look. Dream. One day…
I don’t know if there is a shop and/or a greasy spoon restaurant on the mainland attached to the resort, in real life.
Also, in real life, we’d book everything in advance.
I’m not really a sexist pig who thinks every pretty girl could or should be on the game.

This is why I rarely tell people my dreams: they need so many explanatory notes and don’t make sense to anyone, not even me, sometimes. Yes, I would love to be able to meet up with old friends. Yes, I would love to be able to go somewhere warm and sunny. But at least my dreams are still Covid-free.

Pedalling and walking

Manchester is now in Tier 3 restrictions. This change won’t affect Liesel and me too much: we don’t go out to places, we can still walk around our neighbourhood, we still enjoy the odd takeaway coffee and we weren’t socialising at all. Not even with our grandchildren which is by far the most upsetting thing about this whole crazy situation.

We found more fruit growing in Northenden.

We had quinces in Chessington too, but even though I lived in that house for a third of a century, I never ate one nor made jam with them. I think I was put off partly by not being 100% certain they were real, edible, quinces, but also by the fact that we often saw one with a single bite taken out, by a fox or a squirrel, or whatever. But just one bite? That tells me, they just weren’t very tasty.

Our default walk is along the river, towards Didsbury and back. On one occasion, the following discussion took place.

Liesel: Look, there’s some Queen Anne’s Lace.
Mick: Oh, I thought it was Fox something, not Foxglove.
Liesel: Uh?
Mick: Fox’s something. Fox’s parsley.
Liesel: You mean Cow Parsley?
Mick: Yes, that’s what I said. You call it Queen Anne’s Lace?
Liesel: Yeah.
Mick: Is that the same as Cow Parsley, then?
Liesel: I dunno. Maybe.
Mick: I’ll look it up when we get home.

So I looked it up, and they are indeed the same plant. Other names include Wild Parsley, Adder’s Meat, Devil’s Meat, Bad Man’s Oatmeal, Keck (like the observatory in Hawaii), Wild Carrot, Bird’s Nest, Bishop’s Lace and Anthriscus sylvestris. Or, if you look elsewhere online, they’re not the same thing at all, but very similar. Please don’t trust any botanical information on this blog. Or on the rest of the internet.

As well as the vegetation, we do enjoy seeing our friends, the herons, geese, ducks and mergansers.

It was good to see the Environment Agency cutting back some of the grass, part of the flood protection scheme.

Actually, the path was supposedly off limits today, but we didn’t realise until we saw the sign at the other end of the closed section.

On at least one occasion this week, I went out for a walk without my phone, without the camera. I am so pleased we didn’t encounter anything unusually photogenic.

I had to pre-record my radio show this week so that I could attend the hospital appointment that clashed.

They asked me to take my mask off and put theirs on. I’m not sure it was better than the cloth one that Liesel had madefor me: it slipped off much more easily and more often.

Still, I enjoyed the 15 minutes on a supine cycle, pedalling at about 65 rpm, increasing my heart rate, while they monitored the performance of my old ticker. I think it’s good news, nothing wrong with the arteries, but I still have no explanation for the sporadic episodes of breathlessness that accompany the most innocuous of activities. For instance, a few days ago, I had to sit down and catch my breath after towel-drying my hair. So, to prevent that sort of thing happening again, I’ve decided to stop taking showers.

We really are in strange times and it’s messing with our minds. Each year, we watch the Tour de France and La Vuelta a España on TV. This year the races have all been re-scheduled for later in the season. Plus, we’ve been able to watch the highlights from Il Giro d’Italia as well. So that’s all three of the cycling Grand Tours available for our viewing pleasure.

But, even more unusually, this year the Giro and the Vuelta overlap by a few days. This makes keeping track a little more difficult.
‘They haven’t mentioned Chris Froome at all today.’
‘That’s because he’s not in this race.‘

Even worse when the commentator says the cyclists are approaching Borneo.
‘Borneo? That’s a long way from Spain.’
‘This is Italy.’
‘Ah. Well, Borneo’s a long way from Italy too. And it doesn’t snow this much in Borneo, I suppose.’

In fact, they were in Bormio, a small town in north Italy, and I’d misheard.

What else have we been up to? We binge-watched both series of the TV drama ‘Liar’. It was quite intense, something I enjoy but Liesel struggles with, sometimes.

The theme of this week’s incredibly long radio show was Dreams and Dreaming. Martha is the star of the show, no doubt!

Here we are, now entertain us

We’re still in lockdown, self-isolating, embedded in the frontline at home, finding new and interesting ways to keep ourselves occupied and entertained. The weather certainly lifts the mood, now it’s warmer and sunnier, but we’re not allowed out more than once a day for a quick spot of exercise. It’s disconcerting when you see so many shops closed for business, with the shutters down. Some have displayed notices, but not all. Any plans we had to acquire tattoos for instance have been put on hold for the time being. Oh well.

There is a lot of community spirit, but what a pity we can’t socialise more: it just feels wrong to ‘chat’ with a neighbour by shouting across the road, just to preserve social distancing. There’s plenty of colour to enjoy. When you’re restricted to a short perambulation around the local area, you do appreciate any splashes of colour.

There are many fewer people walking and cycling and running, so it’s quite easy to maintain social distancing. But it is weird to see one of the busiest local roads all but deserted. One beneficial side effect of there being less traffic is that we can more easily hear the birds singing their songs of joy.

An unusually empty Princess Parkway, looking towards Manchester city centre

Wythenshawe Park was pleasant too. Not too many people, and all keeping away from each other. It hasn’t rained for a while, so I was surprised to see the last puddle in the north-west of England catching the Sun.

This week, Martha celebrated her 4th birthday with her immediate family at home where, sadly, there was no party. We couldn’t join her in person, but we did join other family members online using Zoom, video-conferencing software that is usually used for long, boring and probably unnecessary business meetings!

Zoom with: part of William, Martha and Liam; Liesel and Mick; Andrea, Emily and Paul; Adam and Helen in Australia; Alan and Una

Jenny and Birthday Girl balancing on Daddy’s head

But if we couldn’t celebrate Martha’s big day properly, the wider universe did. It chose tonight to reveal the year’s biggest full Moon, a Supermoon, a Pink Moon: the Moon very nearly at its closest to the Earth, appearing 14% larger than usual. It would have been a terrific sight if it wasn’t for the clouds that appeared during the course of the evening. Other people managed to get some decent photos though so I captured this one from TV the next day.

Local News programme showed viewers’ photos of the Moon

The following night, I did see the 99%-full Moon and took this picture, with my phone camera, through the bathroom window. This reminds me how much I am looking forward to using my real camera again at some point, when things get back to normal. In fact, I was going to investigate the latest technology and look into maybe buying a new camera this year.

Indoors, we’re still doing lots of stuff. We miss going to the theatre so it was nice to see the National Theatre’s production of One Man, Two Guvnors streaming on YouTube. We saw the show in real life a few years ago and we enjoyed it just as much the second time around. On TV, we’ve started watching Star Trek: Discovery and after the first of two series, I think we can safely say it’s engaging, moral and much more intense than the original series half a century ago!

We have a new radio station for a couple of weeks: Radio Northenden. It’s our local, parochial, isolation station! Sanny Rudravajhala is broadcasting from the spare room in his house round the corner from where we live. Listen here, every day until Sunday 19th, 4pm.

Just a couple of hours a day, but he and his wife Katie are playing some good music, there’s plenty of chat, guests and nonsense. Best of all, of course, he played my choice of music: Ain’t Bin to no Music School by Ed Banger and the Nosebleeds. This band hails from nearby Wythenshawe, and when I bought the 7″ single in 1976 or ’77, it never occurred to me that I’d be moving to the area a mere 42 years later!

Another day, another walk.

We’ve passed these pollarded trees many times, but at last, they’re blossoming, showing signs of life, which is lovely.

This spammer couldn’t decide whether to increase my level of concern over CoViD-19 or to make me panic about potentially losing my Netflix account. In the end, he just put both messages in the one email. I don’t like to generalise but spammers can be a bit thick sometimes.

Like many other folks, I’ve noticed my dreams have been much more vivid during this period of isolation. I haven’t worked for over four years now, yet work is still the subject of many dreams. For instance, I turned up early one morning but couldn’t get into the delivery office because there was too much mail inside. It had all been sorted into bags (nice blue bags, not the red ones they use in real life) but they were all over the tables and all over the floor, stacked high. Then there’s the road where the house numbers aren’t at all in the right order. Dreams are also taking me back to school and college and shopping centres where I leave and can’t find my way back in so I wind up getting further and further away, on the North Downs walking towards Guildford, until I wake up with a great sense of relief.

Valletta and Sliema

Guess what? I rashly did something I hadn’t done for over forty years and the chances are I won’t repeat the experience for another forty years.

I went out for a walk around Paceville with a couple of chores in mind. Plus, of course, the desire to clock up at least 10,000 steps. I am in training for a major challenge in March, remember.

Anyway, I was admiring the local flora and fauna, some of which is very surprising.

Yes, I wondered too, and I can confirm, this is a real cactus. It looks a bit out of place amongst the dandelions and other small ~~weeds~~ flowers. I was going to walk to the top of the hill, but once the pavement disappeared and the road became too narrow for safety, I gave up.

Eventually, I found my way to the barbershop and I was invited to return an hour later. I passed the time back in Valyou buying just four items and managing to get one of those wrong. What I thought was moisturiser turns out to be moisturising soap, although the word ‘soap’ appears nowhere on the bottle. So confusing. How I yearn for the ’80s when everything was a system. A bar of soap was known as a ‘hand-washing system’. You knew where you were, then.

Anyway, back in the barber’s, I declined the offer of an espresso and asked for a glass of water instead. I enjoyed some nice easy listening, such as Adele and this was followed by the whole unexpurgated version of Gangsta’s Paradise. Coolio! In fact, they played the whole album.

What did I want? A trim and a shave. A wet shave? Oh alright then, yes please. So began a whole hour of being ‘pampered’. So much goo and gloop on my face and hair. Some of the product stung a bit, the green paste smelt a bit like chocolate, the hot, wet towel over the face was nice, once I got over the feeling of being water-boarded. All conveniently located orifices were poked, prodded, probed and shorn and eyebrows were trimmed. But my first wet shave in nearly half a century wasn’t at all refreshing nor relaxing.

When I returned home, the first thing Liesel noticed was my red face and red neck. Several hours later, she noticed red spots of blood and other marks on my chin and cheek. And even the lighest shower later in the day made my face sting. ‘Is your face hurting?’ Yes, a bit. ‘Because it’s killing me!’ Haha. Liesel did like my new smooth skin, something she has no previous experience of. But it’s interesting, and disappointing, to realise that the skin on my face and neck hasn’t toughened up one iota since I was a teenager.

The shadow is cast mid-afternoon. The sculpture well located. Its twin casts a shadow on the water of the bay, but it’s not easily readable except, presumably, on a really calm day.

Meanwhile, Liesel nodded off at home in the Sun, which is OK, but she also forgot to put the chocolate fingers back in the fridge, and that’s not OK!

We can see the sunset from our fifth floor apartment, but as it’s behind a very built-up area, on a hill, it’s not as spectacular as some others we’ve witnessed.

In the evening, we went for a short walk for some dinner. Italian rather than Maltese, so we’re getting closer to proper local food. It was a bit chilly walking back: yes, even I have to admit that!

The plan was to get up early and set off for Valletta. Well, the first time I looked at the clock, it was just before 10am. I slept well despite the ridiculous work-related dream in which the house numbers were in the wrong order and I had both a bike and a trolley to contend with. So glad I don’t have to do that sort of thing in real life any more!

We caught a bus to Valletta, retracing some of yesterday’s walk. We didn’t realise beforehand that this is Carnival weekend, and we were delighted to see a collection of brightly coloured floats.

The square was very busy and most of the children were dressed in very elaborate costumes. We saw princesses and unicorns, Disney and Harry Potter characters but also quite a few fire fighters, soldiers and other public servants.

Luckily, he didn’t arrest us. But what a shame that it’s no longer deemed acceptable to take pictures of strange children in strange places, even when they’ve gone to the great effort of drawing attention to themselves.

Here in the Independence Ground, I indulged in a crêpe and, being British, I chose lemon and sugar. The person in front plumped for a pancake covered in Nutella to which the young lady added three Kinder bars. In unrelated news, Malta apparently has the highest rate of childhood obesity in Europe.

Some of the music was a bit loud, which safely drowned out me singing along to Abba.

Once past the city gates, Valletta occupies a mere 1 km by 600 m peninsula, at the end of which we find St Elmo Bay and Fort St Elmo.

Liesel had a rest in the warmth of the Sun while I set off in search of a public toilet. It didn’t look too far to walk on Google Maps but in reality, I had to walk all round the houses, up and up a hill, into a nice little park. I know, TMI maybe, but, mid-stream, a foghorn went off and I jumped out of my skin!

It was only this huge cargo ship, almost too big for the harbour, but it got my heart rate up for a moment!

I feel sad and disappointed that we’d missed out on Expo 2015 in Milan, probably on account of not knowing about it at the time. I’m sure it would have been good fun. But, no matter. On the way back to Liesel today, I went into (the back door of) the Malta Experience museum, by St Elmo Bastions, to see if I could buy a couple of coffees to take away. Yes, of course. I don’t think many people ask for this service, but all the tables were occupied.

No, we didn’t keep the cup as a souvenir.

As well as seafood, the main meat on offer here in Malta seems to be rabbit.

We did try our first pastizzi today: one cheese and one pea. Lava-hot molten cheese on an unsuspecting tongue was made bearable by the overall experience of very flaky filo pastry. Liesel’s not usually a fan of mushy peas but this was more than OK!

We were persuaded by a very persuasive man to go for a ride on his karrozin, a horse-drawn carriage. He offered us mates’ rates, €35 instead of €40 plus, he’d drive us all round the city for 40 minutes instead of 35! Well, he chucked us off after a mere twenty minutes and of course, with a tip, we paid €40 anyway. I told his horse it might be boring dragging visitors around Valletta all day, but at least he didn’t have to run the Grand National.

One thing we noticed in Valletta, and even away from the city, is the large number of memorials dedicated to World War 2. In fact, the first stop on our karrozin mini-tour was the World War 2 Siege Memorial.

We both commented on how slippery the pavements were. Very smooth, totally different to the ‘textured’ (lumpy, bumpy, unfinished) sidewalks in Paceville. It was funny to see that even the locals would occasionally slip and slide on the smooth marble-like paving stones. On the other hand, where the gradient was too steep even for Maltese feet, they put in some steps.

We watched people in and around Upper Barrakka for a while. I found a cup of coffee for 40 cents, which was nothing special, but it came in a polystyrene cup! I’d rather have a 5-year old Milan Expo cup, thanks very much!

In terms of wildlife, we didn’t see much. Just a shark, a cat and an octopus, really.

A sleepy cat, a tasty octopus and a scary shark

We caught a bus back to Sliema where we dined and imbibed before walking back home. As soon as the Sun dipped below the built-up western part of town, we noticed a dip in the temperature. We’d been told that the tap water here is safe to drink, just not very nice. But we didn’t expect to be buying water all the way from Wales, in a glass bottle! Mind you, they probably get enough rain there to top up the supply.

I can’t get over the irony of this town being quite hilly and bumpy, and yet our walking has primarily been fairly flat, along the water front. After a good night’s sleep, we again walked to Sliema. The plan had been to catch a bus back to Valletta and visit the National Museum of Archeology. But the queue at the bus stop was huge and very disorganised, we thought we’d rather walk than stand up on a bus.

For the first time since the 2012 London Olympics, we saw some water polo being played. Only little people, but it was good to see. If only I’d brought my cossie.

Again, we enjoyed seeing what other people were up to, whether locals or visitors. Imagine you’re standing underneath a rusty drainpipe during a rainstorm. Well, that’s the only possible way that lady acquired hair that colour. We passed a lady painting the view, and I felt inadequate for merely touching a white button on my phone to capture the same scene. I suspect her picture has more soul, though. The man standing over there waiting to be drenched by an incoming wave was very brave/daft* (*delete as applicable).

Some of the pedestrian crossings appear to be sponsored by a chain of coffee shops.

Well, this subliminal advertising didn’t work on us: despite what I said earlier, we made a return visit to French Affaire for coffee and lunch. And I uttered not a single word of French, except when Liesel asked me what French for carrot cake was, and I replied ‘gâteau des carrotes’, which I think is pretty close.

Of all the images they could have used, the late Princess of Wales doesn’t make me want to visit this place.

A new build on top of a more attractive older one

By now, it was too late to visit the museum, so we went home, listened to the radio and read our books. I succeeded in completing a couple of sudokus, wrote for a while and we fought the ant invasion in our fifth-floor Airbnb apartment!

It’s peaceful here but we do hear quite a few sirens in the distance, not to mention probably just one or two boy racers riding their motor bikes at 100 mph while still in first gear. The building works have stopped for the weekend, but we haven’t heard as many church bells as we expected on a Sunday.