Manchester – Mick and Liesel's Antics

Parking problems

When the Management Company refers to our communal car park, we assume that we, the occupants of the five flats in the block, are the community for which the car park exists. It’s not supposed to be a free facility for the local bulding industry. But we had a visitor for several days, taking advantage of the free parking opportunity.

This Niftylift HR12N bi-energy articulated boom lift also churned up what pretends to be lawn . I don’t care about its 12.2m working height and 6.1m horizontal reach nor its narrow 1.5m chassis. It just shouldn’t be there. It’s the most dangerous machine around, at least going by all the warning signs.

When the young man came to retrieve it later in the week, despite its narrow chassis, he struggled to steer it out of the car park. I do regret not having a go myself, though.

Apparently there aren’t enough pictures of Keiran here, so, by popular request, here’s another one.

Martha and William were happy to make their own snowglobes at our place. After which, Jenny and Liam joined us for an early Thanksgiving dinner which was delicious, thank you Liesel!

I’ve never been to Oldham before so, after my dentist appointment, I was happy to join Liesel on her mission. While she visited Abi the beautician, I wandered around the hilly town centre. This included consumption of a well-deserved and enjoyable egg sadwich which I washed down with a nice cup of coffee.

Spindles Town Square Shopping Centre provided some entertainment. The sign asked me whether I could ‘Seek out Susie’, Susie from Shopping Susie’s Kids Club.

While studying the picture, a young lady asked me if I needed any help. No, I’m just looking at the picture, thank you. “Well,” she said with arms akimbo, “you shouldn’t be here, there are no shops here, only offices.” I’d had the temerity to take the escalator to a higher floor. End of the world.

Northenden is slowly changing. Outside the Post Office, the postbox has been adapted to accept some small packets and parcels. It has solar panels on top, and you should be able to press a button, scan a QR code on your packet, and it opens the door so you can drop you item in. Well, it already doesn’t work, and I’m not sure you can entirely blame the layer of early morning frost on top.

As you can see, some guy tried to park inside the postbox, but couldn’t quite manage.

It’s a EⅡR box and, what are the chances? Just around the corner, I bumped into QE2, just not the real one. This little knitted Queen was relaxing on the sofa in the hairdressers while Paul cut Liesel’s hair. The motto on my coffee cup lid seems to fit, too.

Keiran’s getting about a bit. He took Helen and Brent for a walk up at North Head, Manly. It looks like a lovely day and the good news is, he does seem to enjoy a car ride too.

Another pet peeve: websites for shops that are closed but don’t tell you until you’ve spent ages placing your order. Usually we can order a pizza for later delivery, but on this occasion, computer says no. Not just closed until 5 o’clock or whatever, it was closed all day apparently. Possibly longer, it didn’t specify.

It’s been raining a lot and it’s safe to assume that every sentence from now on can be preceded with ‘It was raining…’.

So instead of spending in time wandering around the Christmas markets in Manchester, we took the children straight to the theatre and straight home afterwards.

We saw a stage musical version of the old Disney film, Freaky Friday. Thankfully, the songs and the laughter and the applause were all loud enough to drown out mine and Liesel’s coughs. Yes, somehow we’ve acquired a lurgy. So had Martha and William, to a lesser extent.

Liesel and I enjoyed a drive into Salford too, to see Count Arthur Strong’s version of A Christmas Carol. During the first half, he played Charles Dickens, and we learned absolute nothing about the great Victorian storyteller. The second half was indeed a version of A Christmas Carol, but not as we know it. With a cameo from Anita Harris amongst others. Again, audience laughter drowned out out hacking. But boy did we get through some cough sweets.

We had cause to visit Salford again the following day. We can now add Salford Royal to the list of hospitals we’ve visited this year. On this occasion, it was Liesel’s appointment and it went very well.

Spontaneously (or was it?) on the way home, Liesel suggested visiting the Trafford Centre. I made notes of which postcode area we parked in before dining at Wagamama. That hot, spicy soup cleared a few nasal passages, I can tell you, phew!

I think the only shop we visited was Marks and Spencers, but that was enough excitement for one day.

And that was it. Liesel’s short visit home was over. It still seems strange to have a short visit to your own home, but that’s the way the universe is right now. I dropped her off at the airport for the flight to Atlanta. Then onto Albuquerque for for night. Then she’ll take her Mom back to Anchorage. Next time I see Liesel will be in Australia.

Oh, alright then, here he is again.

Exciting times

What an exciting week that was. The gardeners turned up and instead of just blowing the leaves around like they usually do, they actually collected them up and took them away. A lovely pile of compost for someone.

After losing that much weight, I can hear the old oak tree breathing a sigh of relief and stretching its limbs.

What an exciting week that was. I ventured into Manchester one evening to see Margaret Atwood speaking about her latest book, Book of Lives: A Memoir of Sorts. She told some funny stories and was very engaging. But I found the acoustics at the Opera House a bit disappointing. From where I was sitting near the back of the stalls, the reverberating audience laughter drowned out a lot of the dialogue from the stage.

This was the least worst of the two pictures I took. I was too intimidated by the ushers walking around with their ‘No Photography, No Videography’ signs.

Oh, and the other disappointment is that the books weren’t signed by the author.

Manchester is gearing up for Christmas, and I’m sure I’ll visit the Christmas markets sometime.

Thanks to recent solar activity, the aurora has been visible from Anchorage.

The southern version was visible from Manly, NSW, but Helen didn’t witness the event, having other things on her mind.

Storm Claudia brought strong winds and torrential rain this week. So loud, and of course, no chance of us seeing any aurorae through those clouds.

Under normal circumstance, you would expect tomatoes to be bigger than grapes. This week, I enjoyed these freaks of nature.

What an exciting week it was on TV too. A few weeks ago, Channel 4 put up a few select episodes of Brookside, the only soap that Sarah and I watched regularly. I’ve just found out that STV are showing (possibly) every Brookside episode, uploading five new ones every week.

Good to see these two together again:

It was an exciting week for young Martha too. She swam one mile, non-stop, and is rightly proud of her achievement and the certificate she received.

But of course the big news this week, the most exciting event, is the arrival of Keiran Michael. Helen and Brent have been blessed with this gorgeous little chap.

My heart is overflowing with joy for you all! For a moment, after seeing you on the video call, I thought about hopping on a plane straightaway to come over to see you all those miles away in Australia. Totally impractical of course. So, welcome to Keiran, our third grandchild! We look forward to seeing you in a couple of months time. Lots of love to you all.

I’m sure Keiran is looking forward to hearing his Grandad’s WFM radio show. The latest is on the theme of Water, for Our Earth Week which coincides with COP30. Listen here on Mixcloud.

Saints and Singers

The leaf blowers are out in force, doing their worst, making a lot of noise and achieving nothing other than blowing leaves and fungal spores and all sorts of detritus into the air. This is the downside of Autumn. And then of course, the next gust of wind blows all the leaves back where they came from.

After a stroll around the streets of Northenden, I stopped for a quick coffee at Boxx2Boxx. The owner, Jill, was in today, meeting and greeting many young fans.

Chester draws me in like a magnet. It’s a straightforward enough drive to Chester, but I managed to go wrong when I tried, and failed, to follow directions to a service station on the way. Oh well.

I parked up and walked to my accommodation, my Aurbnb. After checking in, I went for a walk around the city centre. I don’t often go lurking around old, deconsecrated churches, but since this was the venue for the evening’s entertainment, I was glad to check it out. Time for a sit down…

Not the most comfortable bench, I must say.

I know Chester is an old place, but it still surprises me to see just how old some of the buildings are. Since 1622 there has been an inn on the current site of the Golden Eagle. As such it is steeped in the history of the city and community. Adjacent to the Chester Castle and Crown Court, the pub served as a hostelry to the Cheshire Regiments Garrison and the barristers and judges of the Court. This tradition has been upheld, and veterans of the regiment still frequent the pub to catch up with old comrades. I didn’t frequent this establishment today.

It was a very pleasant afternoon, so my plans to visit museums and galleries were postponed, it was forecast to rain the next day. Instead, I enjoyed the cathedral bells for a while, but not so much the busker murdering Fleetwood Mac’s Albatross and other classics.

Three Old Arches form the façade of a row building dating from about 1200, believed to be the earliest surviving shop frontage in England.

For a brief moment, I was transported back to New Mexico.

Laughing at the plastic cactus outside this Mexican establishment might have upset the locals, so I restrained myself. Instead, I had a lovely meal at Thai Baan.

Back to St Mary’s for the gig. Frankie Archer again. I know, I know. When I first booked tickets to see her, I think my mouse must have twitched or something. Instead of Manchester, I clicked on Chester. After berating myself, I decided to spend a couple of days in Chester anyway.

In support this evening was Clara Day, who I’ve heard on the radio a couple of times. I would have been singing along if I’d known the songs.

And of course, Frankie’s set was the same as two nights earlier, her skill on the violin and on all her tech totally captivating the audience.

The threatened rain never arrived, so I spent a day walking around Chester’s old Roman Wall, and making odd diversions whenever I saw something interesting. I never knew until today, for instance, that the racecourse here is also known as The Roodee. Which explains why the car was parked in the Old Roodee car park.

A Celebration of Chester, by Stephen Broadbent

This sculpture was unveiled in 1992 to mark the 900th anniversary of Chester Cathedral.

If it was surprising to see cactus here, even moreso to see a baby elephant. Not a real one, obviously, a bronze sculpture gifted to the city of Chester by Chester Zoo.

Chester Castle was never successfully overrun.

This sign on the back gate would undoubtedly deter any potential invading force.

But, just in case, a party of school children were being trained in the use of swords and shields.

I missed seeing a steam train by a couple of minutes. I heard the chuff-chuff sound, and I saw clouds of smoke behind the trees, but I missed the steam engine itself.

Outside the Cathedral, the Royal Photographic Society was displaying many prize-winning photographs.

On another occasion, I might ascend the 216 steps up the tower, climbing up through 900 years of history, as the sign says. You have to book tickets, so please remind me the next time we visit Chester.

What would you do with 275,000 Lego bricks? Build a model of Chester Cathedral, of course. This was a labour of love. The project started in April 2015.

A team of enthusiastic volunteers worked on one module at a time, on a separate table by the main model. They showed the public where to put the next brick. Once a module was completed it was fitted onto the main model.

The build took eight years and eight days and was completed in April 2023, after progress was slowed due to Covid and the lockdowns.

The good news is, after checking out, I didn’t make any mistakes on the drive home.

After an invasive procedure under sedation, Jenny collected me from the hospital and looked after me for 24 hours, thank you very much. I’m hoping that was the last one for at least a year. Best of all today, though, was spending time with the grandchildren.

After walking to school with them the next morning, Jenny took me home and I was in time to join the Thrive Walk in Wythenshawe. We commented on there seeming to be fewer geese in the park. Maybe they’ve started heading south for the Winter.

If you need some background sounds while you go about your business, don’t forget you can always listen to Mick’s Music Mix on Wythenshawe Radio. My regular time is now Sunday afternoon, 4pm. Or, catch up on Mixcloud. (Psst, no adverts on my shows.)

After the Wednesday walk this week, we walkers were still welcome to have coffee at Boxx2Boxx despite the fact that they were secretly filming inside. The cake was delicious. We sat outside in the ‘marquee’. Thick black drapes across the windows meant that we couldn’t see what was going on inside. Two bouncers outside seemed a bit over the top, though.

This week’s walk in Wythenshawe was attended by 7 people, and we all made good progress. I know I shouldn’t, but I did laugh to myself when one person slowed down whenever they were chatting. As if they can’t walk and talk at the same time. Planning and plotting an overtaking manoeuvre can be difficult when you’re on a narrow path in the woods.

In the evening, I ventured into Manchester for another gig.The bus ride and the walk to the venue were faster than anticipated, so I had time for a quick walk around the back streets.

The show was at Hallé St Michael’s and I was here to see my second favourite Martha, Martha Tilston. As Liesel said, she always puts on a good show. In support was Alwyn Jones.

Again, he sang his own songs, and I was unable to sing along. But, neither could anybody else. The audience was a nice mix of old farts like me and young people.

Martha, of course, didn’t disappoint. She manages to hold the audience in the palm of her hand, inviting us to accompany her without actually saying so. Again, her final song was taught her by her late step-mother, Maggie Boyle.. She stood right next to me, in the middle of the audience, so I’m sure my boat race has ruined some of the videos taken by some audience members!

She was accompanied by Matt Kelly, who’s been at her side for as long as I can remember, right from the early days, gulp, well over twenty years ago, in the Grey Horse, Kingston upon Thames.

Don’t forget, Mick’s Music Mix on Mixcloud. Here is the latest show, the theme is ‘Goin’ Home’. Plus, as a bonus, at the end of this show, you can find out how I was appointed Governor of the state of Alaska.

Humungous fungus

Liesel took Holly to Whittier and on this occasion, the weather was kind enough to make a boat trip worthwhile. And they all had a great time out on the ocean waves, watching orcas breach and glaciers calve. I can only imagine the smell of the sealions as they (mostly) outswam the predators.

Meanwhile, here in sunny England, I enjoyed a walk with Jenny, Liam, Martha and William over the border in Derbyshire. The car park in Crowden was nearly full, but we squoze in easily.

The path followed Torside and Rhodeswood Reservoirs. Yes, reservoirs that haven’t (yet) been sold off by the privatised water companies. William was pleased to make friends with the smallest frog in the world. They met when William enjoyed the first of several bush wees. (He’ll be pleased to read that when he’s a bit older.)

Martha was equally impressed by the very bright toadstools.

We didn’t run up any of the higher hills, not on this occasion. No, we just appreciated the leisurely walk on a well-worn, slightly undulating path. However many steps we grown-ups took (17,500 in my case), I’m pretty sure the children ran twice as far.

I have visions of Liesel rolling her eyes when she sees this photo:

The temptation to bend a tall structure in this manner is irresistable. On the other hand, the view was very English.

Rhodeswood Reservoir with Suffolk sheep and a pylon

Only as we were on the home straight, did I see a sign confirming that we were on the Pennine Way. That’s another item on the bucket list, to walk the whole length of the iconic route.

This week, I felt I was fighting technology a lot. My main fight was with Microsoft. I’ve had a Schrödinger’s account for a while. It won’t let me log in because there’s no such account. Yet when I try to create a new account, it tells me there already is one.

This week, my Microsoft Office stopped working. They were unable to verify my licence. Go online to verify, it said. I’m already online, I replied, I can’t get any more online than I am, no matter how much you nag. In the process, my Word and Excel were disabled. I could view existing documents but I couldn’t edit them nor create new ones.

I got to a place where I could enter the Product Key, and it told me that Key had already been used. Yeah. By me. Three years ago.

There is no way to speak to a human at Microsoft. There is a phone number, but when you call it, the automated voice just says to go to the website.

When you go to the website, you go round and round in circles. I had to enter fifteen one-time codes, and my password several times, getting nowhere fast. In the end, I decided to delete the account. It asks 101 questions before you get to actually get to that point: mostly about features that I didn’t even know existed, that I’ve never used, and I won’t miss at all. And then, the account’s not actually removed for 60 days, ‘in case you change your mind’.

Then, if you open (in my case) Word or Excel, that is taken as to mean I want to cancel my request to delete the account. To avoid opening one of those by mistake, I uninstalled all the software.

A couple of days later, I received a marketing email from Microsoft. I don’t need that either, so I’ll unsubscribe. Easy, I thought. To unsubscribe, yes, I have to sign in. If I do that, then my request to delete the account will be cancelled.

The whole set-up is just nasty. Amongst all the big tech companies, I used to think Microsoft was one of the, if not ‘good’ guys, then one of the least worst. Oh well.

I’m now using getting used to Libre Office. It does 90% of what Microsoft Office does, it’s free and open source. So, a big razzberry to Microsoft.

On a lighter note, literally, Una sent some gorgeous photos of the Northern Lights from Anchorage.

Just as glorious, of course, is Northenden’s tiny village green, embracing the season.

Another technology fail. Booking flights to a holiday destination used to be fun, something to look forward to. Now, it’s soul-destroying, it just feels like you’re fighting the system all the time.

I’m visiting Helen in Australia at the end of January. After several days faffing about, trying to find a cheaper flight, it was time to pick a flight and book it.

After successfully entering all the details of my booking, double- and triple-checking (recalling Liesel’s faux pas last time, when we got tickets for March instead of April, oops, but never mind), Etihad declined my credit card, despite me confirming it was genuine via the bank’s app. I called the bank, there was no reason for my card to be declined, they said, the problem must be at their end.

I looked up Etihad Customer Support and being a bit flustered, I clicked on the first link that came up. Connect to our partner for a refundable £1 to get help. Cheeky bastards, I thought. When I did, I saw they want £1 then £24 a month subscription. At this point, I realised this was a con. So, back to the bank who strongly recommended cancelling my card and reissuing. This was a bit disappointing and annoying, and yes, inconvenient, but it was the right thing to do. Some rogue company might have my credit card details.

I still had to pay for my flights, of course: I don’t know whether the booking disappears after a set amount of time. So, I used my other card. This is one that I’ve been running down for a long time. I’ve not used it now for several months, and I’d planned to cancel it in due course. Again, to verify the card, I had to go to this bank’s app to say it was genuine. The payment went through.

So, I’ve decided to keep this second credit card, for just such an eventuality, an emergency, even if I don’t use it on a regular basis.

On my ‘main’ card, the one that was incorrectly declined, there are a couple of subscriptions so I’ll have to go in and change those, once the replacement card turns up.

Also, a reminder to myself, even if the heading in a big typeface says ‘Etihad Customer Care’, check the actual link before clicking on it.

I didn’t spend all week fuming in front of my laptop. I did go out a couple of times for some fresh air, some shopping and, oh alright, a coffee. I had a flu jab and a covid jab, one in each arm, to spread the load of the 5G microchips being injected into my body. But best of all, I went out to a gig.

I saw Frankie Archer at Low Four Studio in Deansgate, Manchester.

Yes I’ve been busy preparing shows for Wythenshawe Radio, after a break of very nearly a year. It took a while to recall how to use some of the software and, inevitably, new ‘features’ have been introduced that I’m not interested in. That’s progress, apparently!

The venue was intimate, and the audience enjoyed the support act, Satnam Galsian. She sang songs in Punjabi and in English, and played her own shruti box, a bellows that provides a drone to accompany the vocals.

Frankie Archer herself bounced onto stage and performed several ‘dark’ songs, promising to sing some more upbeat ones in the second half. When playing her fiddle, dancing around the stage, you can tell she’s really enjoying herself. And I don’t know how she can keep on top of all her equipment, samplers, keyboards, pedals and other gadgets.

The Demon features in the video for her latest single, The Demon Lover.

If you would like to hear more from Frankie, listen to my latest radio show, now up on Mixcloud. As well as Frankie, there are some great songs which (sometimes inadvertently) namecheck other bands or singers.

Bugs

Another drive to Disley on a Saturday where I joined the family for another Escape Room experience. The view from outside the place, overlooking the Peaks is of course, real England.

The Escape Room itself had a Viking theme and there were plenty of runes to read. But our descriptions of the various characters must have amused the organisers. Still, we solved the puzzles and escaped with fifteen minutes to spare.

While deciding where to find lunch, I was happy to find this memorial bicycle.

The sculpture was dedicated on 12th October 2013 in honour of the careers of Disley’s Multiple Paralympic Gold Medal Winners Dame Sarah Storey DBE and Barney Storey MBE.

It’s just outside the Ram’s Head which by coincidence is where we settled for lunch.

Well, you’ll score no points at all for suggesting that this is a portrait, drawn by William, of his Grandad. Me. Apparently you can tell by the stinky feet. Well, that’s rude, I haven’t had stinky feet since 1976.

Helen joined Jenny, Liam, Martha and William at the cricket on a nice, bright, hot Sunday. Two games of The 100 were played at Old Trafford.

The children both had a go but I think they were severely hindered: just look at the size of that ball!

We don’t get many visitors at our luxury apartment, but here’s one that came in through the bathroom window.

This moth seems to be frayed at the edges, but it was gone the following morning, I’m glad to say.

Over the years, I’ve reported several adverts and posts on various social media sites. Usually, the response from Meta or whatever is that it’s OK, it follows the rules and no action will be taken. And I’ve thought, in that case, your rules need to be changed then. Well, this week, I succeeded in getting an ad removed.

They admitted that something went against their Community Standards, woohoo!

I went over to the swimming pool to watch Martha and William messing about in boats. There were two to a canoe. William didn’t mind falling out to collect the paddle that he frequently dropped, but he admitted later that he had fallen out on purpose a few times. I’d say ‘most times’, but that’s William!

I took care of the children in the afternoon while Jenny and Helen went off to a spa for some pampering. The canoe lesson was longer than I’d expected, so by the time they’d finished, it was getting late for lunch, and at their suggestion, we just went to the local Costa.

Over the next few hours, they fully inspected and played on the new equipment in the playground in Wythenshawe Park. I know we’re in the middle of the school holidays, but I was surprised how many other families were there today.

The old café has gone and has been replaced by a collection of vans. One sells coffee and cake, another pizza, and there are a couple of others. No decent ice cream here so reluctantly, they opted for a Mr Whippy type thing with bits. I didn’t like the look of that, so I had a strawberry split ice lolly instead, my first such for many years and it was so disappointing, it’ll probably be my last for many years too.

William, contemplating life, the universe and everything, but especially what passes for ice cream in this neck of the wood

In the evening, we met up with Liam and the newly-pampered girls for a meal at Gusto. We don’t yet know whether this branch in Cheadle Hulme is one of those due to be closed, but it served its purpose this evening.

A couple of medical interventions this week. I had my first ever shingles jab and I’m due to have a booster in 6 months time. The jab was no bother but my upper arm was hot and tender for a couple of days afterwards, nothing that a couple of paracetamol couldn’t fix. Next, I went for a haircut. Again, no problem, nothing that a couple of paracetamol couldn’t fix.

In the evening, I attended a meeting for the Wythenshawe Radio volunteers. After the organised walk in Wythenshawe next day, I turned the radio on in the car and was surprised to hear myself with a very old show. I don’t know, but I suspect that someone from the meeting just didn’t fancy doing his show and they found one of my old tapes lying around.

On Friday, I met up with everyone over at Bramhall Park for lunch. Too late for a cheese and onion pie, grrr, but the cheese sandwich and chips filled the void.

Afterwards, Martha and William fed the ducks and geese, zillions of them, with officially sanctioned duck food. They both commented on the family throwing bread at the birds, knowing that that wasn’t supposed to happen.

We went for a short walk, and William particularly enjoyed playing down by the stream, under the bridge, jumping from rock to rock. Against all odds, he didn’t fall in the water. They expended more energy in the playground while we watched and, half-heartedly, I played hide and seek with William.

Other then the birds, this was the only wildlife we saw here, a distant cousin of my recent nocturnal visitor, perhaps.

On the way out, we passed this tree which Martha and William climbed and then slid down.

Later in the evening, round at Jenny’s, we had pizza and salad. William demonstrated his twerking skills. Again. And we all played a couple of rounds of Colourbrain, the Disney edition. We played in teams, the idea being to identify the colour of objects or characters in Disney films. I realised two things. There are a lot of Disney films that I have never seen. And of those I am familiar with, I am not that good at remembering the colours of things. Thank goodness Helen and the children, Disney fans all, were playing. Great fun!

All good things come to an end, including Helen’s short visit. We had a farewell meal at Ela, a Greek Taverna in Handforth. Too much food, man. And I didn’t have a chance to use my limited knowledge of the Greek language.

Antipodean visitors

The most recent post suggested I wasn’t having work-related dreams. Well, since then, I have done. Unusually, not about postal delivery, but a conflation of all the IT jobs I’ve had and the busy-ness of the office and rearranging the desk layout for no good reason and panicking because the computers won’t work and trying to do the right thing but knowing I wouldn’t satisfy all of my bosses – yes, I was reporting to many so-called ‘managers’ in the end. And then I remembered, I’ve retired, I don’t actually have to be here in this hell-hole in the first place. The sense of relief persisted long after I woke up.

I remember scrumping on the way home from school sometimes, near the top of Holloway Hill in Godalming. Apples hanging low over someone’s garden fence. A bit maggotty sometimes, but very tasty. I was reminded of this on the day we visited the Gauntlet Birds of Prey Eagle and Vulture Centre in Knutsford. There’s an apple tree outside the place, and, really, it would have been rude to ignore it. So a couple of apples were liberated to add to our picnic.

We all enjoyed our day out with William and Martha. A lot of the birds were in cages, and they were definitely at their when best flying around. They’re free to escape if they want, but I think they’re so well looked after, they’re happy to return by the 5.30 curfew! It’s a family run business, and they’re doing a lot for conservation.

First stop though was the playground.

Here are some of the birds who seemed happy to see us.

But it was much more fun watching the flying display. One of the hawks nearly gave Martha a haircut when she stood up suddenly. Mostly, they were too fast for this videographer but I captured a couple without wasting too much film.

There was a nice quiet picnic area where we ate our picnic lunch, without being pestered by pigeons. I suspect the local vultures and hawks may have been the main deterrent.

Liesel joined the WI for some litter picking in Riverside Park, even though it was raining, on and off.

In fact, we had quite torrential rain for a couple of days, thanks to Storm Floris. But once the storm moved on to Scandinavia, we were back to a proper, warm Summer.

Which Liesel and her Mom will miss. I dropped them off at the airport for their flight back to an Anchorage Summer, just a little bit cooler than ours.

William sent us his first ‘Make and Create’ videos for his putative YouTube channel. I’m just glad he didn’t start each presentation with a “Hey guys, um…”, which, for me, is pretty much an instant turn-off. He did invite us to “Like and subscribe” however, so that’s promising.

Parking at Wilmslow station is notoriously difficult, but of course, I forgot that fact when I suggested picking someone up there rather than driving into Manchester city centre. Still, it was great to see my sister Pauline, along with her partner Andrew, on their first visit to the UK from NZ since Jenny and Liam got married three years ago.

So, within the space of a couple of days, I swapped a wife and mother-in-law for a sister and a brother-in-law.

Jetlag notwithstanding, we joined Jenny and the family for an Indian meal in Bombay to Mumbai, an Indian (did you guess?) restaurant in Bramhall. The food was lovely but ‘medium spicy’ in this case was just on my limits of comfort! And the waitress (apols for the old-fashioned word) was very friendly too. Some music started and I thought we were in for another round of ‘Happy Birthday’. No, it couldn’t have been more different. She performed an aria from Don Giovanni which left everyone stunned, and she deserved the rapturous round of applause.

It’s been a while since we’ve visited Lyme Park, so that was the venue for a nice Saturday wander on a beautiful day. We (my sister) prepared a wonderful picnic as did Jenny. And a millon other folks: even the overflow car park was overflowing.

From this point of view, there’s usually a beautiful reflection of the house in the lake, making for a fab photo. But the lake is being or has been drained, by the looks of it. Maybe this is for the renovation/refurbishment promised after the floods a few years ago.

It was a perfect day to visit, so many colourful flowers are out in bloom, and we even saw more than a couple of butterflies.

William put on a very half-hearted puppet show: I think he much preferred just running around. I quite agree. Not that I was running around. Although I did get a message from a local group on Instagram asking how my running was going.

Afterwards, we all gathered at Jenny’s where Martha showed off her collection of gemstones, rocks and seashells.

At last, after years of us all moaning about it, the path that we walk along to Didsbury is being fixed. Until now, it’s been a very bumpy stroll, it looks like someone just dumped tonnes of broken bricks and rubble along its length. But soon, we hope to be able to walk along a nice, smooth, flat path. Maybe even as good as the path they already have at the Didsbury end. So, when Pauline, Andrew and I decided to walk over to Didsbury, we had to stay on the other side of the river. We even took a shortcut through Dogshit Alley. Last time we three went this way, with Liesel, three years ago, we turned right and were challenged while we were looking at the allotments. We didn’t risk it today, turned left straightaway, said “hey” to the horses in the field and proceeded to Simon’s Bridge. Golf is supposed to be a nice, gentle relaxing game. But to drive to and from the course, it seems obligatory to drive along the narrow road at no less than 90 mph. Not ideal when you’re a pedestrian.

Andrew suggested that golf might be easier and more fun if the holes were a little bit bigger, because so often the ball misses by a small margin. I thought football would be more exciting if the goals were a bit wider too. Basketball would be easier for short people if the baskets were lower down. And I’ve always maintained that I would have enjoyed cricket more if the ball wasn’t so hard. I spent most of my cricket ‘career’ at school hiding in the pavilion keeping score, because George, the games teacher, refused to let us (me) play with a tennis ball.

We did see a very rare sight though. No, not a heron, nor a family of ducklings. We passed a jogger, not unusual in itself, but she was actually smiling, almost like she was enjoying herself. Weird.

Due to restoration of the embankment in the Diudsbury area, following extensive flood damage, we had to walk into the village directly, not via Fletcher Moss Park. Somehow, I found myself in La Chouquette, so I bought a gorgeous loaf of sourdough.

We admired the many, colourful planters in Didsbury and visited a few shops before settling for a coffee at FFS.

We wandered around Didsbury Park, I think my first long visit there without there being a fair taking place. We came across several animals carved from wood: some people are very talented.

Walking home always feels quicker for some reason. Two young lads approached us on the narrow path next to the river. They were riding an electric scooter travelling fairly fast, so we stood aside for them. But the thought occurred, one untimely bump in the path and they could easily end up in the water!

Round at Jenny’s in the evening, we played Pictionary. This is the actual game that Sarah and I had all those years ago, including some of our ancient works of art. Tonight, it was Boys v Girls, and of course, we Boys went into the lead very easily. But in a strange turn of fate, the Girls finally won.

We’re experiencing the fourth heatwave of the Summer now which means it’s hot and sticky at night again. So, once again, I reversed the polarity of the electric blanket, so I have a nice, cool surface on which I can push up the zeds. I’m having some funny dreams though. Not sure if that’s due to the heat or the new medication I’m taking.

We all, that is me, Pauline, Andrew, Jenny, Martha and William (Liam was working) met up at Alderley Edge for a more hilly walk. As usual, we tried to follow one of the named trails, kept changing our minds, and finally got lost.

I ended up walking along the road while the others walked up a long, long series of steps that we’d just walked down, me being very happy that we weren’t walking up them! Unfortuantely, the road I was on wasn’t the one I thought it was. From this point, I had a half hour stroll back to the car park, where our picnic lunch was locked in the car. The road was flat thought, and I knew I’d get there eventually. But no, I turned onto Swiss Hill. And what a hill. Incredibly steep, and cobbled. After it levelled out, I thought I was OK. But no. Another steep hill as I turned left again.

This was where Jenny collected me in the car! A quick drink at the café was made even quicker after we were joined by numerous pesky wasps. But we ate our picnic lunch in peace. Martha made a new friend, one with fourteen spots!

This evening’s game, again round at Jenny’s, was ‘Out of the Loop’. It’s a social deduction party game where players try to identify who among them is out of the loop, who doesn’t know a secret word in a given category. Players ask questions of each other, questions suggested by the game, an app, itself. Great fun. But I’m rubbish. I ended up with zero points, while everyone else scored in the hundreds. What a strange scoring system!

Liesel and I have lived here up north for six years now, but we’ve never joined a bus tour of Manchester. Well, today, Pauline, Andrew and I did just that. We joined the ‘hop-on hop-off’ bus outside Bridgewater Hall, where I saw posters for a couple of shows that I might be interested in. But that’s all in the future.

The commentary was informative, no serious attempt at humour. Although a poster on the bus had definite Aussie vibes.

We hopped off at the Football Museum, which, despite my lack of interest in football, I found quite engaging and informative. Lots of fun and games, especially for young fans. Of course, the biggest photo is that of the 1966 World Cup winning England team. A black and white picture, blown up, with the kit colourised. I don’t remember seeing a picture of the England team that recently won the Euros. But they were girls, banned from playing on FA grounds until 1971.

The queue for the penalty shoot-out was too long for us, so we let the lads wearing football shirts have a go instead.

We hopped back on the bus on its next circuit and enjoyed the trip around Manchester and Salford. I realised again, I couldn’t be a bus driver in Manchester, the streets are too narrow, and too many people park their vehicles in really daft places. But our driver managed.

In Salford, we hopped off again and spent a couple of hours at The Lowry Theatre. The immersive ‘Lowry 360’ show was unfortunately sold out, but we enjoyed looking again at other works by LS Lowry. There were some miserable people here though…

… at least, in this picture. Happier folks in this next picture, though. Pauline and I again bemoaned the fact that we don’t have the photos taken of us at Bourton on the Water, standing on the little bridges, when we were about 6 and 4 years old.

Next to the LS Lowry exhibition is another one, celebrating the work of top illustrator Quentin Blake. In contrast, his pictures are very bright, colourful and joyous. And there were plenty of children here having a great time, drawing their own pictures.

We hopped on the bus again, after waiting for just a few minutes at the stop near Salford Quays.

We had a late afternoon date to meet up with Jenny and the family at a restaurant in Cheadle. I’d been to Yara before, but this time, we sat outside, in the shade, which was very pleasant.

I,for one, was taken by surprise when I walked in and saw Helen. My daughter Helen, all the way over here from Brookvale, NSW. Helen and bump! Yes, I am pleased and excited to confirm that Helen is expecting a little chap in November. Yes, I had to look twice. What a fantastic surprise!

Martha, Helen, Mick, Liam, William, Andrew (leaning back), Pauline and Jenny

A video exists of me walking into the restaurant like I’ve just got out of bed or something, taken by surprise and uttering “What are you doing here?” So embarrassing: thanks, Liam! And sorry, Helen, not the best of welcomes! But I really am pleased to see you!

Pauline, Andrew and I had been pretty busy since their arrival and Andrew decided he needed a down day. So, it was just Pauline who joined me for the regular midweek Thrive Walk. What I didn’t realise at the time was, someone was videoing us enjoying our coffee outside Boxx2Boxx. See if you can spot me and my sister.

After which, we caught a bus to Sale where we met Jenny, Liam, Martha, William and Helen at the King’s Ransom pub, right on the Bridgewater Canal.

King’s Ransom pub and the Bridgewater Canal

We spent another evening round at Jenny’s: mainly because, as Jenny said, their place is bigger than my apartment. And she’s a far better chef than I am.

Pauline and Andrew are now spending some time in Yorkshire and beyond. I drove them to Oxford Road station, only going wrong once.

So, within the space of a couple of days, I swapped a sister and a brother-in-law for a daughter and a future grandson. As Phil Collins once said, “Funny old world, innit?”

I took a leaf out of Andrew’s book and had a down day. Catching up on emails, real mail (just one letter in a week, as it happens), a bit of tidying up, laundry and again, looking at the long list of things to do and then going off to do something totally different.

Meanwhile, how’s Liesel getting on in Anchorage? Working a bit, spending time with friends, and most definitely not commenting on a heatwave. Presidents Trump and Putin had a meeting in Alaska, but this won’t affect Liesel and her Mom at all, unless of course, Trump gives or sells Alaska back to Russia.

Sense of enormous wellbeing

The bus ride into Manchester is always a lovely, long, enjoyable ride. At an average speed not much faster than walking pace, you certainly get your money’s worth from the fare. Well, I do, with my Senior Bus Pass. What we need is an express service from Northenden that picks us up here, then doesn’t stop until we reach our destination.

It was the weekend of the Parklife music festival in Manchester and several attendees joined our bus, some of the girls wearing dresses that they’ve had since they were about 3 years old. So much flesh on display. But Parklife wasn’t our destination. Today was also the Universally Manchester festival, put together by the University of Manchester, a vibrant, free, one-day festival packed with fun, interactive activities for all ages.

Liesel and I had booked places on a walking tour of the campus and we met up with the group in the Old Quadrangle where, once upon a time, Jenny celebrated her graduation ceremonies by tossing mortarboards in the air. That seems a long time ago, now.

The guide was very informative, giving us the history of the now 201-year old university. In fact, the hour was more talking than walking. All interesting stuff but we’d been expecting a longer wander around more of the university’s sites.

We (re-)learned about such luminaries as Alan Turing, Ernest Rutherford, Marie Stopes, Bernard Lovell, all Manchester Alumni. And of course, my daughter, Dr Jenny. She’ll get a blue plaque too, one of these days, I’m sure.

In fact, Jenny and Liam took Martha into Manchester today, and Martha enjoyed taking part in some of the demonstrations and experiments. We all met up for lunch in the Museum Café.

In the Museum itself, we bumped into Maharajah, well, his skeleton.

This poor old thing was ‘encouraged’ to walk over 200 miles from Edinburgh to Manchester in 1872, accompanied by his keeper, Lorenzo Lawrence. They didn’t fancy going by train.

William was away with his Beavers pack today, and his parents arrived just in time to meet and greet him from the coach. Liesel, Leslie and I spent a few minutes in University Place, looking at some of the exhibits. It was very busy, good to see, but what a hubbub.

Continuing our University of Manchester experience this weekend, we visited Jodrell Bank, this time specifically to see A Stitch in Space Time. This is an exploration of the cosmic threads that connect the observatory in partnership with the Royal Astronomical Society. And, literally, threads. Two quilts were on display.

Royal Astronomical Society Bicentennial Quilt

This large patchwork quilt is made from a hundred individually created fabric squares, each depicting astronomical themes such as galaxies, planets, telescopes and stars.

Homage to astronomer Ellen Baker’s 1876 Solar System quilt

Ellen Baker made a quilt nearly 150 years ago and subsequently used it as a visual aid during her astronomy lectures. This modern copy is very similar in style.

While in the sewing room, we watched a video of astronaut Karen Nyberg attempting to sew in the weightlessness of the International Space Station. All the tools of the trade are held in place with velcro

Of course, we explored the more scientific aspects of the venue as well. The First Light Pavilion opened in 2022 and the current, immersive exhibition was great fun. And interesting. I found it more fascinating than Liesel and Leslie, so they wandered off to the café.

Selfie of the day with an Infrared camera

When I joined them a while later for coffee, they recommended the lemon drizzle cake and I’m glad they did, it was delicious.

We know the universe likes to stay in equilibrium, so after the excitement of an interesting, academic weekend, we had to be brought down to Earth. I was walking along in an orderly fashion when, wham, bam, I was assaulted by even more bindweed.

Nothing I could do except cry inside, and be thankful that this particular infestation is someone else’s problem.

We picked the children up from school and took them to Bruntwood Park where the snack was, again, an ice cream. Earlier in the day, Martha had been at the Bridgewater Hall with the Hallé Orchestra. I thought Martha might have played her ukulele, but no, she tooted on a trumpet instead, ending up with achy cheeks.

At home, Martha and William made stickmen out of pipe cleaners, before we were joined by Liam and Jenny for dinner.

The Ikea wardrobe that I put together a few weeks ago needed a slight repair, to re-secure it to the wall, so that was my job for the day. Followed by swapping a toilet seat. I know how to have a good time. I’m going through a spell of getting rid of stuff, some on Ebay, some on Freegle. Both are ridiculously hard work.

Probably not as hard work as paddling a canoe all the way from Heaton Mersey to Northenden. But that’s exactly what Martha did with a group of friends, and I’m sorry we didn’t wander down to the riverside to witness the event.

Here they are, screaming as they float down the newly repaired weir.

There was a larger group than usual for the regular Thursday walk, and we walked the full distance, despite temptation to take a shortcut in the extreme heat. It was the hottest day of the year so far, and phew, there were some comments about that.

And being a hot, bright, sunny day, I thought I’d take a picture of the Sun.

Another day, another walk and we growled at all the geese for pooping on the path around the pond in Painswick Park. And then in the next park, I thought, what a funny looking squirrel:

Parks and Wreck

Mayfield Park is the first new park to open in Manchester City Centre in over a hundred years. It’s been there waiting for us to go along for over two years, and now, at last, we’ve paid a visit.

The River Medlock was happy to see daylight after being covered up for fifty years. We expected to walk around a large expanse, 6.5 acres, but in the end, we agreed, the park was much smaller than expected.

The flower beds attract many bees, and once again, I asked Liesel whether she’d brought her Epipen. Just in case.

Manchester has always been a home to radicals throughout its history. From alchemists to non-conformists to communists to suffragettes to ravers, all have made a home here.

Thomas Hoyle, who set up the The Printworks in Mayfield and his son-in-law Neild used their wealth to establish Mayfield House, a social enterprise for all including a free reading room. Hoyle’s peers also went on to establish Manchester University and the Manchester Guardian newspaper.

The playground looks fun and yes, one day, we might take the grandchildren there.

After a quick coffee, we walked back towards the city centre, and in particular, to Sackville Gardens. Over the road, we saw a wedding party, but even I felt it would be inappropriate to take photos through the bushes. The flowers here were very colourful.

The Beacon of Hope was created in 1997 as Manchester’s answer to the threat of HIV. Designed by Warren Chapman and Jess Byrne-Daniels, it consists of elements combining the existing ‘Tree of Life’ planted on World AIDS Day in 1993, with the ‘Beacon of Hope’ light sculpture erected in 2000. Together, both elements describe a metaphorical journey through life, providing the opportunity for contemplation, celebration, remembrance of the lives lost to HIV and solidarity with those living with HIV today. This is the UK’s only permanent memorial for people living with HIV or AIDS and lives lost to it.

The history of HIV/AIDS is described in a series of plaques in this corner of the park, and it’s horrible to be reminded of our government’s inept early response to the so-called ‘gay plague’.

In Sackville Gardens, I shouldn’t have been surprised to find another member of the Bee in the City Trail: this one is the LGBee.

Today’s city walk then took us to Bridgewater Hall where we hoped to pick up a programmes of future events. The venue was closed. So we enjoyed early dinner in the nearby community of food outlets known as Society.

Our next ‘meal’ out, a couple of days later, was taken at Quarry Bank Mill where we enjoyed a much shorter stroll than usual.

The first of two medical events for me this week entailed a very early morning drive to Trafford General for an 8am appointment. And, despite temptation, I did not go back to bed when I returned home.

The second involved a trip into Manchester. We passed some time at the Whitworth Art Gallery, again viewing the Turner exhibition. I then just had to walk over the road to St Mary’s Hospital. I wonder if there’s a prize for attending four or more different hospitals in such a short span of time?

Dunham Massey’s Rose Garden is at its best this time of year, very colourful and aromatic.

I think we were all surprised and delighted to see herons on the far side of the lake. There are always ducks and geese, but I don’t think we’ve seen herons here before. And yes, more than one at a time. Here is a pair, but we spotted five altogether.

Again, I really should dig out my real camera for shots like this. On the other hand, the phone camera is good enough to capture the building works taking place.

A few months ago, early January I’m guessing, occupants from one of our neighbouring apartments disposed of their Christmas tree by dumping it on what passes for the lawn in our communal car park. It’s been an eyesore, certainly compared with the glorious oak tree, but it was time to do something about it. For a couple of weeks now, there have been a couple of surplus wheelie bins out on the pavement. No idea where they belong. Well, I dragged the old Christmas tree out and shoved it into the gaping maw of the green food waste and garden waste bin, as far as it would go.

I’m grateful to Liesel for taking its picture as she drove past later in the day. Otherwise, the moment would have been lost to eternity. And we are very grateful to the bin men for taking away the offending item.

Meanwhile, the grandchildren and their parents are having a brilliant, exciting, fun-filled time at Disneyworld, Orlando.

Meanwhile, further west, my sister Pauline is visiting Las Vegas from New Zealand. Not a random urge to hit the casinos, but to be with her son, my nephew, Rob’s wedding to Cristy, a small civil ceremony. Love and congratulations to you all!

Thanks to Pauline for the photo!

So, life goes on, as the song says, and sometimes it’s as exciting as going for a walk around the parks and woods of Wythenshawe. And, how good am I? I’ve got this far without mentioning this week’s torrential rain.

Out and about again

Once upon a time, I stayed over at Jenny’s house, and even though I anticipated an early morning invasion, neither of the children came into my room to bounce on the bed.

Jenny took me home later in the day and I changed into my eveningware for a musical recital in Manchester. Well, no, I didn’t. But I did go into the big city for a gig.

I joined the queue, and I wonder if you can guess who I was here to see?

The venue is not one of my favourites, O2 Ritz, but I decided early on that I would head straight for the balcony where I could stand at the front, and lean on the barrier, or, sit down, actually sit down, on a chair or a bench.

On stage appeared Mark Radcliffe and Marc Riley who told us that the last time they introduced a band on stage together, it was David Bowie with his band. Tonight, they were happy to introduce us to Woody Woodmansey and Tony Visconti’s Holy Holy, performing some of the Best of Bowie. With about 500 songs to choose from, they did well to keep the show down to about two hours.

Who else was in the band? Glenn Gregory from Heaven 17 is a big Bowie fan and he still seems excited and honoured to be singing the songs. Jessical Lee Morgan played guitar and saxophone, not at the same time. Janette Mason did a great job on keyboards and, one day, I hope to see her in concert in her own right.

From my vantage point at the front of the balcony, I could watch Chris Thomas working hard on the merch stall. One of the items on sale was a copy of the set list, signed by Woody and Tony. So that saves me having to try and remember what songs were performed.

There was no support act. No, the band played solidly for two hours, and the audience sang along. A comment from the stage and repeated later on, on Bluesky, suggested this was the loudest crowd of the tour so far.

A young lady was pleased that I let her squeeze in beside me by the barrier. She cried at Life on Mars. There were a few emotional people around, mostly oldies like me, but there were a few young people too.

From the balcony, It was quite hard to get a decent photo. But we have to try. Unlike some folks, though, I didn’t bother with a flash!

T-shirt wars. Tony Visconti was wearing a Hype t-shirt. Hype was the band he was in with David Bowie, even before Space Oddity. This was apparently an original t-shirt. Hmmm. On the other hand, his daughter Jessica was wearing this one, an allusion to one of the encore songs. IYKYK, as the young people say.

Yes, after the show, I went down to the merch stall to see Jess and Chris. I didn’t buy the set list but I did buy a Holy Holy t-shirt, first time I’ve bought a band shirt since about 1994.

I couldn’t fight my way through the crowd to say hello to Woody but it was good to see him enjoying being in the spotlight.

The tour bus was parked outside, disguised as a bus from Manchester’s Bee Network: bright yellow.

I walked down the road a bit to book an Uber but with perfect timing, I was able to flag down a black cab.

After being home for a couple of weeks now, I felt it was time to go for a long walk. So off I went to Quarry Bank. Sadly, the route that we often follow was still closed, thanks to flooding a few weeks ago. Still, it was good to see some colour.

Where’s Liesel when you need someone to identify the flowers?

Since I couldn’t walk where I expected to, instead, I wandered along a path I don’t think I’ve paid any attention to before, and came across this.

This cross was originally situated at Cross Farm, Styal. Around 1860 it was moved by Robert Hyde Greg to Holly Lane where it stood until 1930 when it was demolished in a car accident. The base, thought to be medieval, was rebuilt in 1983 on this site but the upper column remained a truncated stump until 2010. A campaign, instigated by the Styal Village Association, raised sufficient funds to rebuild the upper half and restore the cross back to its original state.

But the highlight of the visit was the cheese and onion pasty I had for lunch. The last one available. I got there just in time.

In local news, the occupants of Flat 3, below us, have moved to Stockport.

Like I mentioned, I’ve been back home for two weeks now, and it was time to do some laundry. I’d forgotten how long the wash cycle is on our machine, compared with the bigger American ones. I think washing machine companies here must be in cahoots with the electric companies.

I drove over to Trafford General Hospital for a medical consultation and found it easy to park, despite warnings from other folks who have been. Yes, I have a full collection of hospitals now, but I suppose that means I’m being well looked after.

While waiting in the waiting room, I was messing about with my phone camera.

Annoyingly, it was so much quicker to drive to Crewe than to go by public transport. If I’d gone by bus and train, I might have missed the end of the show: either that, or I would have needed to find some accommodation.

In the past, I’ve seen Danny Baker on stage in Salford and in Buxton, but the nearest show on this latest tour was at the Lyceum Theatre in Crewe.

Another three hours of fun for old and young, without a hint of vulgarity. He got his 10,000 steps in again, pacing up and down the stage as he told us one funny anecdote after another. A bit more name-dropping this time than before, maybe, but he’s the first to admit he’s been very lucky with his career and with the people he’s been able to work with.

The theatre is magnificent, but the view from the stage must be a bit intimidating, surely? Not for The Candyman, it seems.

It was good to join one of the local organised walks this week and to have a coffee afterwards. The other two walks? Well, I missed them for other reasons which you can read about if you press the red button.

Time to go Home

It’s not often I watch Doc Martin on TV while eating breakfast and chatting with Liesel’s Uncle Neil, but it happened today for the first time. Neil has one of the shortest email addresses in the known universe, just ten characters in total, which is great, except that some modern sites don’t accept it as a legitimate address.

As well as being a scientist and a mathematician, he’s a bit of a philosopher and has spent the last several decades researching and writing a now 80-page long document about his theory of, well, everything. Having exchanged email addresses, he sent me a copy which I look forward to reading.

While online, I came across a ‘Truth’ or whatever it’scalled by the President:

Donald J. Trump
@realDonald Trump

After visiting the beautiful city of Albuquerque earlier this month, I decided that it is disrespectful to America to have a state called New Mexico. It is surrounded by America so it should be called America. I plan to sign an Executive Order renaming the Land of Enchantment New America!

MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN!

Actually, I suspect it’s a fake, but who knows? It’s so believable these days.

As I was packing for my departure, I thought about some things that I’d observed here in Albuquerque, and beyond.

Piñons are very small nuts and the trees are prolific. The nuts are so small, that some of us just find it easier to eat them whole, shells included, rather than trying to peel them.

Indoors is very dry too, very low humidity. So, often I would touch the light switch, or the fridge door handle, or Liesel, and I would experience a static shock. Every time was a surprise.

When out and about, almost everything is covered in a thin layer of dust. It’s a dry, dusty old state. It is being modernised though: we passed by a few solar arrays on our various trips.

Also, while out and about, I was greatly entertained by the many adverts for lawyers on billboards by the highways.

• Do your research: the husband and wife law team.
• $1 billion recovered for clients
• Hurt? Call Bert
• Injured? Get more. Dial 4…
• Semi truck collision? Call…
• Dead? Call Fred

No, alright, I made the last one up.

There’s one infamous sign that I was hoping to see out on the road, but, disappointingly, it never materialised.

• Eat here and get gas

We didn’t have a barbecue at all here in New Mexico. No Abq bbq, so to speak. Yes, all this time, I could have been using Abq as an abbreviation for ‘Albuquerque’ instead of writing the word ‘Albuquerque’ in full every time I mentioned ‘Albuquerque’.

I know Americans don’t have the monopoly on mangling the English language, but there were a few times on this visit when my ears wanted to pack up and go home. Just a couple of examples:

• When we were in Europe forever ago…
• Hope you guys enjoy you guys’s lunch

This sort of thing is very common too: you see a discount on an item but no actual price. So this conversation was very common:

• That’s 50% off
• So, how much is it?
• Ummm…

Meanwhile, outside the weather was not conducive to a return visit to the Bosque, the Rio Grande River Loop Trail. It rained, again with huge raindrops. As if that wasn’t bad enough, the rumbling thunder was accompanied by a hailstorm. Hailstones as big as peas. There have been larger though. On one occasion, Buzz returned from Phoenix in a car that resembled a golfball. Someone may have been exaggerating, of course!

Helen and Brent called from Australia and Liesel and I had a very nice chat with them. Helen is very happy with her new car, a Toyota.

Liesel and I did get out briefly, though, Gabe drove us to see the storm drains after today’s extensive precipitation. The water was indeed flowing fast.

What a boring picture, I know what you’re thinking, so here’s a nearby, colourful, mural.

And so it was timefor me to say goodbye to our fantastic hosts, Buzz, Neil and Gabe. Liesel drove me to the airport. Now, usually, Liesel drops me off and I’m left to check in by myself. But on the way to the airport today, I received an email telling me that my second leg flight, from Atlanta to Manchester, had been cancelled. I always feel anxious about this aspect of travel, dealing with airlines and airports, because something will always go wrong, right? Well, not always. But this is the first time I’ve had to deal with a cancelled flight.

It was a short queue to check in, because, guess what, Manchester Airport, there were several members of staff working on the counters, all at the same time. Revolutionary.

Tiffany, my Delta agent was great, though. She fought through Virgin Atlantic and Air France’s BS and rearranged my trip back to the UK. I could have postponed the whole thing until the next day, but there’s no guarantee that Virgin Atlantic wouldn’t cancel again, for ‘technical reasons’.

So, rather than Abq to Atlanta to Manchester, I now have three flights: Abq to Atl to Orlando to Manchester. And I would arrive just two hours later than originally planned.

So after all the excitement and fun and places of interest in New Mexico, my fear and anxiety of travelling through airports was, today, fully justified.

In Security, I was patted down, because the poppers on my shorts lit up on their very fussy scanner. As someone else joked, rather riskily I thought: usually I’d get dinner and a drink for that.

At the gate, we learnt that our plane was arriving late so we’d be departing late. So of course, I am now more worried about not making the connections. Whereas my original schedule had a 3-hour layover in Atlanta, it was now 1½ hours. Even less with this late departure. Tiffany was at the gate so again I thanked her profusely.

My window seat was OK, but I couldn’t see anything other than the wing. After an uneventful flight, people with connections were allowed off first. Everyone had a connecting flight.

In Atlanta I walked and took the train to my departure gate, arriving with less than an hour to spare. I took more slow, deep breaths before going for a quick wander to find something to eat. A very nice, tasty tomato, cheese and basil crêpe was the best option.

I don’t know why I worry about the size of my carry-on bag when people seem to get away with bulging backpacks and antique Victorian trunks. Well, very nearly.

This flight was late taking off too, for which they apologised but offered no explanation. I had an aisle seat this time, sitting next to a very rude Italian man. He was upset because he’d been made to check his oversize bag but I didn’t laugh out loud: never mess with the Mafia.

And of course, I was now worried about making my connecting flight in Orlando.

My English accent did me no favours on this flight: I failed to get any milk for my welcome cup of tea. While in New Mexico, only one person had accused me of being Australian, but I still can’t recall the circumstances.

The plane landed in Orlando, and we taxied for ages and ages before the pilot announced that there was currently no gate available. Apparently, after a big storm yesterday, they were still catching up on a backlog of delayed flights.

After about half an hour, we were able to disembark. I’d not been to Orlando Airport since 1992 and couldn’t remember it at all and it’s probably changed anyway since then so I really hoped it would be easy to find my next, and final, departure gate. It was, and again I plonked myself down with much less than an hour to go.

I looked around, but there were no ads for Disneyworld, so I failed in my mission to take a selfie with Mickey or Minnie. There were no food outlets either nearby so I was very glad of the cheese sandwich Liesel had made for me.

Annoyingly, I wasn’t able to order a vegetarian meal for this flight. I’d asked at every opportunity, but no, because the flight is within 24 hours. But it was your airline, Virgin Atlantic, that cancelled my original flight. Oh well, never mind was the official response.

My seat was in the back row, right in front of the toilet and I sat next to a nice lady with an English accent. Well, it turns out she lives in New York state, moved there when she was about 2 years old, and was now visiting her cousin in Chester.

I couldn’t sleep, as usual, so I watched two movies: Paddington in Peru, and Heretic, both of which I can recommend, especially if you’re a Hugh Grant fan.

There was just one thing left for me to worry about. Given my flights were late and the connection times were tight, would my checked in bag make it home on the same flight as me?

After landing, disembarking, walking a long way to Passport Control in Manchester Airport’s Terminal 2, the moment of truth. Along with hundreds of other dazed passengers, I watched the baggage carousel with a mix of excitement at being back on home turf and dread at the thought of the bureaucracy I’d have to go through again if my case didn’t turn up. But, no, look, is that it? Yes, is that the right label? Yes, yes and yes.

The taxi driver took me home the long way, but that meant he just got a smaller tip than otherwise.

Arriving home is always a bit of anticlimax. A quick walk to get some milk then I had a cup of tea and, despite my best efforts, a nap.

I managed to stay awake for the duration of the first episode of the new series of Doctor Who before going to bed properly. Good night.