Manchester – Page 4 – Mick and Liesel's Antics

Quadrupeds and quadriceps

I was still in bed when Liesel left to have coffee with her WI buddies. The good news is, I was out of bed when she returned a few hours later. I could have stayed in my pit much longer, listening to podcasts.

We very rarely go into Manchester on a Saturday but it was time for a Treasure Hunt.

“For years and years Manchester has been under the spell of the wicked
witch Abby Cadabra, who put the city under a curse of perpetual rainfall.
Fortunately, the world-famous adventurer Hugo First located a map and
book of clues that could reveal the location of the magic spell book. But
Hugo ran a mile (and more!) when he learnt of the perils that lay in front of
him.”

We had to locate the treasure, which is a Spell Book, and presumably cast a spell to lift the curse, and imbue Manchester with everlasting sunshine. Well, by the time we reached the end of the hunt, we were just happy to have located the treasure although as you’ll see, we weren’t all satisfied. But that’s a lot later on.

Liesel and I took the bus into the city centre and were greeted outside the Central Library by protestors against the murderous régime in Iran. We waited inside for our fellow treasure seekers to arrive.

Jenny and family came by train and tram, which might have been as exciting as it gets for the children. But no, there was much more to come. We followed the clues, which took us to parts of Manchester that we’d never seen before. Martha and William were very good at spotting things such as gargoyles, and Martha expecially enjoyed solving the mostly word-based puzzles.

William was very energetic but sometimes, the urge to have a quick break was just too much.

This bridge, over the River Irwell marks the boundary between Manchester and Salford so of course, we had to get a picture of someone with a leg in each city.

So here’s Martha replicating an old picture of her mother straddling the border between England and Wales many, many years ago.

I’d forgotten that Manchester is a Nuclear Free City until we came across this sculpture featuring some very dirty doves.

It was a lovely day for a walk around the city, we really should spend more time just mooching around aimlessly. Like we used to do in London, of course.

Eventually, we solved the final clue, and so by elimination, we know where the treasure is. William asked where the chocolate was. I agreed: I think there should have been an actual, real prize at the end, but there wasn’t. Just the joy of knowing we cracked the code. And enjoyed a walk in the process.

We found a nice place for coffee and cake before making or way home, the children and their parents on a very crowded tram.

William invited us to watch him the following day at his football coaching session, so we did. It was fun watching him and the other Little Kickers learning their skills. Or should that be skillz with a zed?

When she thought nobody was watching, Martha went behind the curtain to practice her netball skillz.

After the session, we walked into Cheadle for a late breakfast slash brunch slash lunch. A very versatile place is Brezo, which I was surprised to see only has one zed. Between us, we ate a pizza, cheeseburger and chips, eggs on muffins, tapas and something chickeny.

This week, we started booking up for our next big trip. After taking far too long to work out some sort of itinerery, we went online to book a flight, looking for the cheapest, quickest, best airline, do we stop over half way or not, how much luggage allowance do we need, where do we want to sit on the plane, a million and one decisions. Done! Except that we’d booked a month earlier than we’d planned. And it costs an arm and a leg to change your booking. Once she stopped laughing at our ineptitude, Helen said she’d be happy to see us earlier than originally planned, phew, so we’ll be off to Australia in March, woohoo! To err is human, to really mess things up, get a computer!

It wasn’t the most exciting event of the week, but I missed the Wednesday walk to attend a meeting with the management company for our block of flats, oops, apartments. There was just me and Carole from the estate agent. I spent the rest of the day editing my radio show: it always takes much longer when I have a chat with someone else, a special guest.

It’s that time of year again, we both received our flu shots. And we’ve booked our next Covid jabs. I’ve met a couple of people recently who have had both vaccines at the same time, one in each arm.

Thursday’s walk was good, although Liesel missed it, prefering to be pummeled by the physio. After coffee and a snack, fellow walker Sue and I took a bus to Heald Green. Liesel met up with us and a huge group of people for a walk arranged by WalkADay. It total, there were 26 of us on this 3.9 mile walk between Heald Green and Styal.

The sky turned grey, dark grey, it looked ominous. And Heald Green itself must be at the end of a Manchester Airport runway, because the planes came in very low, very fast and very loud, you could almost see the freckles on the noses of the faces of the passengers in the window seats.

The route took us along a very narrow path, so we had to walk in single file. The path had nettles on both sides, so it was hard to avoid all of them. At the end of the day though, I was delighted by how few stings I had, just a couple of mild itches.

The route also took us through Nixon’s Farm, a place we’d driven by several times, but we’d never bothered to visit. There’s a farm shop and butchers and a pet food store. But one day, we’ll definitely visit the Moody Cows Tea Room.

There was nothing special about seeing a field full of sheep. But seeing a few donkeys in a field was quite exciting. Then a brown thing started to run towards the fence. Funny looking donkey? No, it was one of three or four alpacas, coming over to say hello or, more likely, steal some food.

Standing next to the donkeys, I realised that relatively speaking, alpacas have very small heads.Almost like a child’s picture of an animal, but not drawn to scale.

There were no hills so the walk wasn’t at all onerous. But there were some obstacles. Such as the puddle (pond?) that covered the whole path. We couldn’t go around it, we couldn’t jump over it. Oh no, we had to walk through it. Well, this was a good test for my new shoes which I thought might have a leak. But no, my feet stayed bone dry all day.

Elsewhere, the path was quite muddy, thick, gooey, oozey, squelchy mud. Yes, my new shoes were now caked in mud. What I needed was a nice big puddle in which to give them a quick rinse.

There were at least seven stiles to negotiate too. Well, with 26 of us queueing to climb over, nobody got left behind. I was by no means the oldest participant, and when I saw how mobility challenged some of them were, I realised that, despite my many whinges, I am quite fit. The one thing I will complain about is the intermittent stabbing pain I feel in just one spot in my right quadriceps. In fact, a few nights earlier, I woke up with the sensation of someone stabbing it with a thick knitting needle.

We walked around the fringes of Styal Golf Club, looking out for low-flying balls, and finally returned to our start point.

Liesel and I both joined the regular walk on Friday, and it was nice to see a couple of herons in Painswick Park. At least one of which was psychic. As soon as I even thought about getting my phone out, even though it was way over there on the other side of the lake, it walked behind a bush, purely to stop me from getting a picture. But I captured the other one, hah!

It took most of the afternoon to book some train and bus tickets for our upcoming visit to Portugal. If you’re reading this David and Glen, Catherine and Hans, we’re coming to see you!

And as I hinted earlier, this week I had a guest on my radio show. Do you remember Zha Olu who has appeared a couple of times at Boxx2Boxx? Well, she very kindly gave me some time and her thoughts this week. The theme of the show is Flying. You can hear it here on Mixcloud.

All the adjectives

The musical alarm dragged me away from my exciting dream. I can’t remember what it was about, but I do feel sad to have left it behind. The reason for this inconvenience? We’d planned a quick trip to London. And I mean quick. It was a hectic 36 hours in the sense that we did a lot, but we never felt rushed. Oh, except now, getting up soon after 5am. Time enough for breakfast before the taxi took us to Manchester Coach Station. Yes, we took a leisurely five and a bit hours to reach London’s Victoria Coach Station by National Express.

The journey was uneventful on the whole: I was occupied by podcasts, a book and a nap. Two highlights though. As the coach pulled into Norton Canes Services on the M6 toll, we saw some deer and I just about caught one.

The driver didn’t bother slowing down so we could get better pictures, but I guess his bladder was on the same wavelength as mine.

The other memorable moment was as we proceeded down Park Lane in London. We heard cannon fire from Hyde Park, we guessed, to mark the first anniversary of the Queen’s death. Actually, the 41-gun salute in Hyde Park was more to mark the accession of King Charles to the British crown.

It was a beautiful, sunny day and we were travelling light, just one bag each. After sitting on the coach for so long, we had to walk for a bit. We set our controls for Trafalgar Square.

The gardeners have been busy around Victoria Monument but interestingly, very few people were outside Buckingham Palace. I thought there might be thousands of mourners marking the occasion.

The Mall was empty and I, again, reminded Liesel that I had ridden my bike here: crikey, that was 9 years ago now, that Prudential 100-mile ride around the Surrey countryside and streets of London. Just days after the devastating Hurricane Bertha.

Trafalgar Square is so much better now the pigeons have left, although a couple were still looking around hoping for some free food. Many years ago, of course, my sister and I would love feeding the birds, but it’s a much more pleasant environment now.

Round the corner then to the recently re-opened National Portrait Gallery, where we met Andi and Steve. They’re in the process of moving house in Richmond, so good luck with that!

The café was full so we went over the road. St Martin’s crypt was about to close, so we ended up having drinks behind St Martin’s, in the courtyard.

We caught up and chatted for a while and after we said our farewells, Liesel and I visited an exhibition of photographs taken by Paul McCartney during the early days of the Beatles. They’re not all of the best quality, some are out of focus, but the story they tell is fascinating.

Using QR codes and an app, you can listen to Sir Paul as he talks about some of the pictures, the people and the events.

Of all the people depicted in these photos, I’ve only met one: David Jacobs. So that’s a claim to fame. I have seen Jane Asher on stage too, in Peterborough, about 40 years ago.

Some of Paul’s notebooks are here too, including hand-written lyrics of the songs that we now all know so well.

The contrast between the early black and white pictures and the later colour ones is remarkable. I had the perfect picture in mind, but the attendant didn’t want to be included in my photo. Still, we had a nice chat about the old days in Camden and beyond.

Paul McCartney Photographs 1963-64, Eyes of the Storm is running here until 1st October, but I’m sure the collection will be shown elsewhere.

It was hard to avoid this portrait of the King before setting off on foot again. Down Whitehall, past the fortress that is now Downing Street, although there were no protestors today. Nor protestors.

As we passed Westminster Abbey, Liesel noticed how bright, how white it was. Don’t tell me it was given a good clean for the coronation?

We decided to check into our hotel and discard most of our stuff. Liesel had cleverly booked a place within easy walking distance of Victoria Coach Station, so we could make a quick getaway in the morning.

Our walk took us via Eaton Square, Sloane Square, King’s Road all the way to The Pheasantry, a Pizza Express. We were shown to our table and enjoyed our pizzas.

A long time ago, I’d booked tickets for Saturday afternoon in Manchester. Later on, Jessica Lee Morgan announced that after this year, she wouldn’t be doing any more gigs. I felt we had to see her one more time, so I bought tickets for this show. This is why our trip to London was so frenetic this time.

We met a couple of people we knew in the audience, hello again Sue, hello again, Alan!

The show was of course brilliant. ‘Those Were The Days’ it was called, in which Jessica and Christian, just the two of them this time, played songs written by or given life by female singers and songwriters.

Even though Liesel and I were sitting under the cold air ducts, the only time I really got goosebumps was when Jessica sang Ocean Song, my favourite track from her Ma’s album Earth Song, Ocean Song. Stunning.

When playing the piano, Jess apologised for turning her back to us, so I said ‘it’s nice to see yer back’.

After the interval, Jessica emerged having changed outfit, and performed Janis Joplin’s Mercedes Benz a cappella while walking amongst the audience.

After the show which we throughly enjoyed, we took a bus back to our abode and I was asleep before my head hit the pillow, as the cliché goes.

The bad news is, thet even though it was well within reach of our seats, I forgot to pick up the set list.

We got up not quite as early, walked to the coach station, and boarded with a breakfast from Prêt and enjoyed the journey back to Manchester.

We had an afternoon show to go to, and we debated whether or not we’d have time to go home first. In the end, no. We arrived in Manchester and caught a bus most of our way to the venue.

What a strange looking building! Contact is in Oxford Road, close to the University, and this was our first visit. We ordered a smoothie but, due to a shortage of ingredients, we had to resort to enjoying our beverage after the show. I wonder who got to go shopping?

Arlo Parks came to prominence just a few years ago as a young singer-songwriter. Today, whe was here to have a chat with Liv Little (I really hope her middle initial is ‘A’!) and to read from her newly published book of poetry, The Magic Border.

As is often the case, I didn’t get much of the poetry, it needs more study maybe, but I enjoyed her use of language.

Afterwards, we enjoyed our freshly made smoothies while watching the very long queue of people waiting for their books to be signed.

I met Arlo, she signed the book, and even recorded a little announcement for my radio show which was very kind. She’s a lovely, friendly little soul and I’m sure she’ll be a big star soon. And not just because she’s gonna be a regular on my show…

So, that was a hectic fun-packed 36 hours, and in the evening, we slumped in front of the penultimate state of the Tour of Britain bike race.

What’s better than two show in two days? Well, three shows in three days, of course.

Laughterama is Manchester’s biggest comedy festival. It might be the only one, I suppose, but that’s what their website says. I bought the tickets ages ago, and it was just rotten luck that all these things came up this weekend.

We drove into Manchester and parked about a five minute walk from the venue, Castlefield Bowl. We’ve been close to this site on many occasions, but didn’t realise there was this amphitheatre. The weather forecasts conflicted, and it did rain a few times, just light drizzle really, nothing too bad. But that didn’t dampen our mood. Especially after filling up with nachos. Other street food was available.

The show was hosted by Suzi Ruffell and she, and the other four were absolutely brilliant, very funny.

Ardal O’Hanlon reminded us that he used to be Father Dougal and he went to great lengths to demonstrate that he, Ardal, was not as stupid as Dougal. He, Sukisa, Dana and Suzi walked up and down the stage a bit, but they did stand still sometimes, hence the reasonable photos. Russell Kane on the other hand, well, he ran up and down the stage, he performed all his own stunts, all while talking and telling jokes and interrupting himself and making valid points about today’s society. That’s my excuse for not achieving such a clear, focussed photo of him. This is the least worst, and possibly, the most interesting.

I don’t know how much energy he used, but they should wire him up to the national grid. Very funny. In fact, we’d recommend you see any of these folks live on stage if you get the chance.

The only thing we didn’t like was the seating. The stackable chairs were too small and way too close to each other. You didn’t have to be overweight to be squished between your neighbours, and in our case, one of those neighbours was a complete stranger.

Later on, whilst wasting time browsing Instagram, I came across this image.

So, that was another fun day, and in the evening, we slumped in front of the final stage of the Tour of Britain bike race. The winner was Wout van Aert, one of the favourites, and that last day, in the mountains of south Wales looked really hard.

That concludes our exciting, hectic, frenetic and frenzied but incredibly exciting and fun weekend. All the adjectives.

So listen out for Arlo’s small message on my show later this week (the theme is Secrets, so tell everyone), link to follow. And, if you missed them, here are links to the shows where Jessica Lee Morgan and Dan Tiernan joined me in the studio. In the studio! I was in the spare room, and we spoke remotely!

Litter, lollies and Leghs

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That’s all folks!

Trouble with lifts

After much prevarication and decision-making, weather-watching and umming and ahhing, Liesel and I drove over to Alderley Edge where we met up with Jenny and Liam and the children. We had a nice walk, Martha and William had a nice run, and it stayed dry for us. They are very adventurous but sometimes, when they’re close to the edge of a sharp drop, over the edge, so to speak, at least one of us will tell them to stop running, to step back, and generally stop giving us heart attacks.

The adventure playground was quite challenging, and both the children made the most of it. Martha’s other main activity was collecting fir cones. The acorns were still very small, but later in the year, she’ll be fighting the squirrels for them.

William was very proud of his new wellies, so coating them in mud was of course top of his agenda. He also enjoyed his time halfway to the centre of the Earth, in a big crevice.

One reason we like Alderley Edge is that it’s hilly, and it’s interesting geologically. And there are some nice views too.

We are watching Designated Survivor on TV at the moment. The first series was good, as tense and gripping as the first two or three series of Homeland. The second series is good too, but there are more holes in the storylines and bad script decisions. We’ll see it through to the end of the third series, but after that, they don’t need to make any more episodes just for us, thank you! There goes my new career as a TV critic.

We were up early to collect the children. The plan was to go into Manchester by bus, but after waiting for over twenty minutes, we resorted to Plan B. We drove to Sale Water Park and caught a tram into Manchester. There have been strikes on our local buses, but we shouldn’t have been affected today. William’s first response on being told we would travel by tram was, ‘I don’t like trams’. As soon as he saw one, ‘Oh, I really love trams’. It was their first journey by tram, although we didn’t realise that at the time. No seats available at this busy time of day, and presumably many other people whose buses had gone AWOL, so we had to stand, and the children were just as excited about that as they were about being on a tram in the first place! Martha was also fascinated when the tram went along a road, with cars and everything.

Our first port of call was the Castlefield Viaduct, but we were too early, it wasn’t open. We decided to come back later. Let’s go down to look at the Roman ruins then. William wanted to go down in the lift. So we did. A very slow, ricketty lift. At ground level, the door opened, but we couldn’t get out. Someone had forgotten to take the padlock off the outside gate!

As Martha so succinctly put it: what’s the point of going down in a lift if you can’t get out? We went back up in the lift, and walked down the stairs, 60 of them, like we should have done in the first place!

Our next port of call was the Science and Industry Museum where we revisited the hands-on exhibits on the first floor, before having lunch.

William lost interest in the Red Arrows simulator very quickly, not one of the best exhibits really. But he did enjoy causing earthquakes to demolish buildings, or, in his case, stacks of wooden blocks. He enjoyed getting ping-pong balls to defy gravity, floating on a stream of air.

The main event of the day though was Yayoi Kusama’s exhibition, You, Me and the Balloons, that Liesel and I saw a few weeks ago. Martha had learned about Kusama at school, so she was very happy. They remembered the main rule: don’t touch the balloons.

I let Martha use my phone and she took some pretty good photos.

The queue for the Infinity Mirror Room was much longer than last time. I said I’d wait in line, and it was exciting to reach to point at which the wait was 30 minutes! Meanwhile Liesel and William looked at some other exhibits, Martha wandered round, doing handstands and somersaults.

I learned something new today. My phone camera takes a while to respond when the light levels are low. So, in the mirror room, I pressed the button while William was in shot, but it actually clicked a second later, by which time, William had left the stage!

As promised, we returned to the Viaduct. Martha and William were quite interested in the plants, but mainly, they enjoyed sitting down to draw pictures.

On this visit, neither Martha nor I could detect the smell of chocolate from this flower, although other people were able to.

The tram ride home was uneventful, the novelty of sitting and travelling backwards soon wore off for William though. Before taking them home, tired as they may have been, they welcomed the offer of visiting the playground in Wythenshawe Park. I don’t know where they get their energy from, Liesel and I just wanted to sit down and watch them running around. And climbing to the toppest top of the climbing frame.

The Wednesday walk was well attended this week, just the usual wander through the woods.

In the afternoon, I visited the Wythenshawe Radio studio from where I co-presented a ‘live’ show with Sarah-Jane. Her Dad, Roy, owned record shops in Manchester in the 1960s and beyond, and the two of them present a show together once a month. In between, S-J invites other folks to join her in the studio. I selected 16 records to play, and we had a nice chat for a couple of hours. I was reminded why I like presenting live, even if a couple of words did elude me in the heat of the moment. Tears were shed in the studio. Today is was the anniversary of Elvis Presley’s passing, and S-J’s Dad was a big fan. And after picking a Sinéad O’Connor song a few weeks ago, Sinéad passed away, which shocked us all, but I didn’t want to change my selections. You can listen to Sarah-Jane’s Happening here on Mixcloud, I make an appearance about 50 minutes in.

I then joined a few other volunteers for further training on the Myriad system, the software used to send on Wythenshawe Radio. When I got home, I was worn out. Myriad 6 Anywhere is a complete, web based interface for controlling every aspect of a radio station.

The Thursday walk was as usual, longer, through the woods and parks of Wythenshawe.

And I travelled into Manchester again to donate some blood, which is why I consumed a very creamy coffee and a millionaire’s shortbread ahead of time. Glad to say I’m still a ‘fast bleeder’ so I didn’t have to wait too long for my post-donation biscuits.

In the evening, Liesel enjoyed a birthday party for a 90-year old lady, and she didn’t come home drunk, nor full of ice cream and jelly. Happy birthday, Eve!

The organised Friday walk was cancelled this week, so Liesel and I picked Michael up from the Lifestyle Centre, and we enjoyed a nice, long walk around Sale Water Park amd beyond.

And yes, we did stop for a coffee at the pub!

Later that day, Liesel met up with a friend, Audrey, in Didsbury, for a quick chat, lasting several hours. Meanwhile, some people might have been listening to Mick’s Music Mix on Wythenshawe Radio. Ups and Downs, that was the theme of the show, and you can catch up here. That’s a lot of me on the radio this week!

Coins, cone, kine

‘Do something scary every day.’ I’ve said it before and I’m sure I’ll say it again. I also interpret that maxim to mean, ‘Say Yes when it would be so easy to just say No.’ So, when Chantel asked for volunteers to do something at 8 o’clock on a Saturday morning, my first thought was ‘no way, José’, but I actually vocalised: ‘Yes, put my name down.’

I woke up nice and early, but drifted off again before the alarm woke me up with a jolt.

Breakfast gave me the energy to walk over to Wythenshawe Park where before making contact with anybody, I found this chap who expressed my mood beautifully.

As part of Manchester International Festival, artist Ryan Gander invited audiences to undertake a quest across the city in search of his latest artworks. Hundreds of thousands of collectable coins will be hidden in plain sight across Manchester, each embellished with words offering guidance on daily decisions.

Abi from Factory International presented me with a bag of 250 coins to hide in Wythenshawe Park. As requested, I left some in plain sight on park benches, walls, posts and pillars, and many in more secluded locations, on trees for example. Some coins will be found easily, some will glint in the Sun, and attract people’s attention. Ryan Gander and I invite all of Manchester to go out and explore, look for hidden coins, right up to 16th July. I suspect some will be there for many years to come. I know of one that fell down, inside a hollow tree. That’ll confuse a future archeologist! Yes, I feel very special being involved with a work of art, even at a distance.

As well as distributing coins, I was also acquiring a good step count for the day. Compensation for those times I don’t move far from the sofa at home!

Coffee and cake were very welcome. Just a slice of Victoria sponge, please. Well, what I got in the box was the biggest slice of cake I’ve ever had to deal with in a public space. Not complaining, but I really needed Liesel to help out with her fork. She was instead with the ladies of the WI.

The local wildlife weren’t that impressed with events, so much so, they stayed out of focus.

Later on, I clapped as hundreds of people ran past, taking part in a 10km run. From their facial expressions, not everyone was enjoying it too much.

After a long walk in the park, it was time to move on. I caught a bus to Cheadle and started walking towards Martha’s and William’s school. As I was passing the Village swimming pool, I took advantage of the opportunity to use their facilities. I noticed Liam’s car in the car park and deduced, therefore, that the children were swimming. Actually, they would have just finished. So I waited for them to emerge from the changing rooms and I was delighted to hear that most searching of questions from Martha: ‘What’s Grandad doing here?’

We drove to the school and I paid for entry to their School Summer Fair. Spiderman was there and he has the ability to make small children levitate, which is a cool trick.

In the chocolate tombola, I won a big bar of Cadbury’s chocolate that, spoilers, Liesel and I polished off within three days.

Martha and William had fun on the bouncy castles, until the latter were deflated and tied down when it became too windy.

Jenny was there already and when she told me there were no hot drinks on sale here today, I threatened to complain to the committee. Don’t you dare, she warned, as a prominent member of said committee!

A splendid time was had by all, and I made my way home by bus. Two buses in fact, with another long walk between.

On Sunday, Liesel and I went into Manchester city centre. Our first port of call was the Science and Industry Museum. More specifically, the café, for a coffe and a spot of lunch. I wonder why lunches come in spots?

There’s a small exhibition here about Stephen Hawking and his theoretical physics work. They’ve even preserved his blackboard from Cambridge.

According to The Guardian: The Cambridge cosmologist, who died in 2018 at the age of 76, treasured a blackboard that became smothered with cartoons, doodles and equations at a conference he arranged in 1980. But what all the graffiti and in-jokes mean is taking some time to unravel.

Our final desination we knew was somewhere behind the museum. Down a road that Google Maps doesn’t even know about yet. The directions to Versa Studios given in the email were very precise. And when we were close, it was reassuring to see directing arrows on the black hoarding, leading us to the right place. It’s all happeneing here, in and near Festival Square, all part of Manchester International Festival.

The show we watched was Kagami, in which we enjoyed a hologram projection of Japanese composer Ryuichi Sakamoto playing several of his compositions on the piano. We had to wear special goggles that revealed Ryuichi, but allowed you see other members of the audience as we were able to walk around the projection. Sadly, Ryuichi passed away in March so he never saw the final version of the show, but I hope he saw enough to know how good it would be.

As he began to play Merry Christmas Mr Lawrence, I told Liesel that was my favourite, and it seemed to be very popular as it was the only piece to attract a generous round of applause. Clapping a ghost, hmmm.

Don’t ask me to explain why his music sounds Japanese, but it does, it just evokes the sights and smells and sounds of that fascinating country.

Yes, it is weird looking at a picture of a group of people standing around, all apparently looking at absolutely nothing.

On July 3rd, 1973, I was not at Hammersmith Odeon to witness the final one of 180 shows played by Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars. Famously, not only was it the last show of the tour, it was the last show they’d ever do. So announced David Bowie before playing the final song, Rock ‘n’ Roll Suicide.

Well on the fiftieth anniversary of that gig, Liesel and I witnessed the Global Premiere of the Film of that Concert. Not at Hammersmith Odeon unfortunately, but closer to home, at Cineworld, Parrs Wood. Global premiere? Yes, this would be the first showing of the whole concert, including a couple of songs missed out before, and the whole of special guest Jeff Beck’s performance. I can feel Liesel’s eyes roll as I write this and I know they will when she reads it later, but these details are important.

I no longer own it, but a few months later, I purchased a bootleg recording of the show at the wonderful, atmospheric, aromatic, long gone Kensington Market.

There was a piano introduction by Mike Garson, and a panel discussion about David Bowie, but for whatever reason, we only joined the event part-way through the discussion. It was OK, but nothing to write home about. I enjoyed the film immensely, Liesel not so much, especially the long guitar solos by Mick Ronson while David Bowie took a long time to change outfits!

We haven’t seen a rainbow here in Northenden for a while, but I captured this one before it disappeared behind the bin cupboard.

I caught a bus into Manchester to help with someone’s research. So glad I got an early bus, it took ages, as it had to make a long, slow detour for some reason. And even though the windows were open, the bus ride was ridiculously, uncomfortably hot. So my first task on arrival in the big city was to buy a bottle of water. Yes, I could have taken a water bottle with me from home, but that would have entailed thinking ahead, planning and remembering to pick the bottle up. But it didn’t even cross my mind.

I saw a few new graduates around town and I resisted the temptation to high-five anyone, but who knows, maybe some of them had been taught by Jenny at some point. I also wondered whether Jenny at some point had taught the Masters Researcher whom I was seeing today. Unlikely though, as she earned her first degree in Leeds.

I found my way over to the Division of Neuroscience and Experimental Psychology, part of the School of Biological Sciences within the University of Manchester.

The study is around factors affecting observation and imagination of computer-based actions in people with Parkinson’s and older adults. They want ‘old’ people, over 50 years of age. And they want people who use two fingers to type, not touch-typists.

I did a few tests on paper, typed a lot of words under various conditions, imagined typing words, and conducted a few other tests. I hope my results are useful. Especially if, in the end, it leads to some way of helping folks with Parkinson’s.

The bus ride home was just as long and devious and weary.

This week’s Wythenshawe Radio show had the theme: Sweets. I was thinking sweeties, candy, chocolate, honey, sugar. I can feel my teeth rotting as I write that sentence. I asked my dentist to come on and talk about teeth and, well, about being a dentist. But I was out of luck: she was about to fly off for a holiday. Oh well. If, like me and Liesel, you didn’t hear the show on WFM 97.2 on Friday afternoon, you can catch up on a slightly extended version here.

So, those coins, what do they look like? Each one in the set of three has one word on each side, which you can use to guide your future choices. Heads or tails?

Thanks, Mancs and Diolch, Cymru

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

King Charles and Queen Camilla on the balcony of Buckingham Palace

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Work of art and Liesel’s version at home

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bridge over the river Colwyn in Beddgelert

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Misadventures with technology

Agatha Christie is a very popular writer, famous for stories featuring Hercule Poirot and Miss Marple. In 1926, following the death of her mother and marital problems, her husband said he wanted a divorce, she disappeared for eleven days. Her car was found at Newlands Corner, near Guildford, and it looked for a while as though she might have drowned in the nearby Silent Pool. Both of these venues have been visited during my bike rides, all those years ago. And of course, I grew up in Guildford. But, while doing research for this paragraph, I discovered something really interesting. Agatha Christie shares her birthday with Liesel. That is arguably more exciting than the discovery that my daughter Jenny has the same birthday as Kylie Minogue.

Most Saturday mornings, Liesel goes out for a coffee with the ladies of the WI, at a nice place in Didsbury. This week, I didn’t walk with her. Instead, I took a bus into Manchester. What a busy, thriving city Manchester is on a Saturday morning. Lots of entertainment in the form of buskers.

This chap playing drums was quite loud, but the others seemed to have located themselves just the right distance apart, so that none interfered with the music of others. There was a pair of saxophone players, there was a tenor belting out an aria that I didn’t recognise and I briefly accompanied the group singing UB40 songs. No photos of these because I didn’t have any more coins to throw into their respective hats or guitar cases, but they were all good.

I’d come into Manchester specifically to see Tom Hingley and Gordon MacKay perform at HMV, to mark the release of their new album, Decades. Which, of course, I had to purchase. And of course, Tom signed it!

The songs are pretty good, especially the one celebrating a visit of Muhammad Ali to Abingdon, Tom and Gordon’s home town. The champion boxer visited several times, keeping in touch with a local man who’d campaigned to have his boxing titles reinstated after they’d been taken away for his refusal to fight in the Vietnam war.

While in HMV, of course I looked at the records. I have no intention of buying any vinyl again, but I was intrigued to see a double album of David Bowie’s concert at St Monica in 1972. £49.99. Blimey O’Crikey! Fifty quid? I bought that record as a bootleg from Kensington Market nearly half a century ago, for a lot less than half a ton!

My plan was to go home afterwards and knit some words together in the form of a blog post. But an invitation arrived to join the family for dinner, an offer that I couldn’t refuse.

I went home, and later, Liesel and I drove over the Cheadle Hulme where we met Jenny, Liam, Martha and William at Gusto for a very enjoyable meal. On this occasion, I made sure not to order too much food. In fact, I paced myself so well, I was able to indulge in a dessert.

You’re looking at that photo and thinking it’s not very good, right? Let me have a whinge. The camera app on my phone recently updated, and it works differently. I used to be able to adjust the brightness of a picture easily and quickly, now it’s almost impossibly difficult. Touching that part of the screen now does something totally different. So, by the time I press the shutter, the composition is totally different. When looking at a potential picture, I see a yellow square, a white circle as well as the two shutter buttons. In the great scheme of things, this is still as wonderful technology of course, but why do ‘they’ have to keep ‘improving’ things?

So last week’s post was a day late because when I arrived home that night, I didn’t feel like doing anything else! I was too full and, well, lazy.

I enjoyed another bus ride into Manchester just a couple of days later. It was time again to go and donate another armful of blood.

For some reason, the trek from the bus stop in Oxford Road to the donation centre took me through the grounds of Manchester Royal Infirmary on this occasion. Of course, as soon as I saw this sign, I looked up. No helicopter in sight, but I suspect I would have heard one before I saw it, if there had been one.

As I was a few minutes early, I wandered around aimlessly and came across this graffti. I’m not sure whether it’s promoting the popular sitcom from the 1970s, or the Tony Bennett song, or maybe the graffiti artist was just having an excellent day.

Giving blood was no problem, apart from I was only allowed one packet of biscuits afterwards. I am composing a letter of complaint to the authorities.

Liesel had some work to do, so she missed out on the regular midweek walk around Northenden. I enjoyed it though, along with my coffee afterwards, plus, it was warm enough to sit outside the café on this occasion.

Later in the day, we collected Martha and William from school and brought them home, where they both finished decorating their scallop shells.

These beautiful works of art are now enhancing the children’s rooms at home, to the detriment of our own shelves… There was plenty of cutting paper and gluing and pipe-cleaner wrangling as well.

We had tacos for dinner plus pear crumble which the children didn’t even try. Uh? Oh well: more for me!

To celebrate our wedding anniversary, we drove over to Harrogate for afternoon tea and to spend the night. It took over two and a half hours to drive there, much longer than anticipated. I’m blaming technology. Why? Let me have a whinge. The Google Maps app on my phone recently updated, and it seems to have reset some settings without my intervention. Liesel asked why we were following country roads all the way. When I checked, I discovered that ‘Avoid Freeways’ was ticked. Well, first, we call them ‘Motorways’ in this country. And while I have used the option to avoid motorways in the past, the last time we went anywhere, we were definitely using motorways. In the great scheme of things, this is still wonderful technology of course, but why do ‘they’ have to keep ‘improving’ things?

Even though it was a long drive, we did admire the countryside, especially when it stopped raining and we weren’t being sprayed by passing big lorries. We parked up and checked in, then went downstairs for our delicious tea, thank you very much Pauline and Andrew for sending us the voucher for Christmas!

We filled up but agreed that we would have liked more sandwiches and fewer cakes, but the tea kept coming, and we were sitting close but not too close to the fire. It was a real fire too, to the point that coal or a log or something nearly fell out of the fireplace onto the rug, thereby potentially burning the whole place down.

We were at the Old Swan Hotel on Harrogate, and this is where Agatha Christie was staying when she went ‘missing’ that time. She had no memory of those eleven days afterwards, so it will probably always remain a mystery, how did she get from Surrey to Yorkshire?

After tea, we had no desire to eat anything else for the rest of the day, so we had a nice quiet evening in our room. The view wasn’t much, and my plans to do some writing while Liesel was working came to nought. Well, so did Liesel’s plans do do some work, if you must know. But I am enjoying my latest book, Wolf by Mo Hayder.

I’m not having much luck with technology lately, and there is more bad news to come. The battery in my Kindle needs replacing. I’ve done that before, it’s a slow, pernickety job, but I know I can do it. So, a new battery has been ordered.

In the morning, we enjoyed a big breakfast, a bit of continental and a small cooked breakfast each too. Plus coffee from a pot that loved dribbling all over the pristine table cloth. Just can’t get decent spouts these days.

The rest of the morning, we wandered around the town of Harrogate. It’s hilly. I would love to show you pictures of trees that had blown down in the strong winds overnight. And some of the local buildings. And Betty’s, the famous tea rooms. We didn’t go in because, as my photo would have shown, there was a very long queue, even at 11 in the morning. And the selfie of the day.

I’m not having much luck with technology lately, and there is more bad news to come. While writing this and uploading photos, my phone decided to turn itself off. Its battery had gone from 15% charge to zero in a very short space of time. Yes, the phone too probably needs a new battery. Yes, alright, I should have acted on the warning message it gave me a while ago.

But, in the process of powering down, the SD card got zapped(*) and I have lost all the photos stored on it. Most have been backed up of course, but not for a couple of weeks. So, there is no photographic evidence that we walked around Harrogate. Well, there might be on the local CCTV cameras and we might have inadvertently photobombed other people’s pictures, but all the wonderfully composed and exposed photos of mine are but bits of dust on the SD card. (*) I assume this is the reason I can no longer access those photos, I can’t think of any other reason, and all the music on that SD card is still accessible.

And while I am happy to change the battery in the Kindle, I’ll have to get a professional to replace the battery in the phone.

The drive back home was much faster. We used motorways. And we saw the long, long queue heading in the opposite direction towards Leeds. So glad we weren’t part of that!

We have a guest for the weekend. Liesel collected Rosie from Stockport station around 10pm, by which time, I was asleep in bed.

On this week’s radio show, I had a chat with Dave from Thrive Manchester, and the songs were mostly lists of things, people, dances, events, not forgetting the Compleat Works of Shakespeare. Catch up here.

Gozo and home

Having spent the day in and roughly north of Victoria, it was now time to head eastwards. The wind was still blowing so we took a bus to Qala from where we wandered hither and thither, admiring the views.

We did see some wildlife, a few birds, the odd butterfly, but most excitingly, snails.

Many of the restaurants advertise ‘locally produced lamb’, ‘locally produced goat’ and ‘locally produced rabbit’. Along with ‘Argentinian beef’. But on all our walks, we never once saw a sheep, goat or rabbit out in the wild, not even any signs of their presence. We ate our lunch in a place recommended by our b&b host, Xerri il Bukkett. Entertainment was provided by some loud American ladies one of whom clearly knew more about breeding and raising rabbits, for food, not pets, than the local Gozitan population.

Speaking of birds which we were a minute ago, what a surprise to see these chaps out by the road.

We walked and took a bus to the Ġgantija Temples, still looking out for sheep and goats. ‘Ġgantija’ because they were built by a race of giants, according to local legend.

After about 5,500 years, the temples, older than the pyramids in Egypt, aren’t in the best of repair, and some of the stones are missing, having been acquired for re-use in new buildings. This has been a UNESCO World Heritage Site since 1980, but that’s no excuse not to have a coffee shop at the end of the tour, along with the gift shop!

‘The typical habitat on the Ġgantija plateau is the garrigue, a seemingly arid and treeless environment. In reality, this is one of the richest habitats on the Maltese islands with hundreds of flowering plants, including the Giant Fennel, the Wild Thyme, the Mediterranean Heather, the Maltese Spurge and many others.’ I don’t think I’d seen the word ‘garrigue’ before.

The graffiti goes back hundreds of years but we’re now discouraged from such vandalism.

A couple of the walls have been secured by scaffolding until the local experts work out the best way to preserve the temples in the longer term.

The temples need another visit one day, but we were conscious of having to catch a bus. While waiting at the bus stop, we had another wildlife encounter. A cat made friends with us.

The weather hadn’t been as bad as forecast and the following day was even better. So we headed south on this occasion, to Xlendi. The walk, nay, hike, along the coastal path was more challenging than the average stroll around Northenden, that’s for sure, and in a couple of places, we lost the path. Still, no sheep nor goats to worry about.

The cliffs looked challenging to say the least, so I was glad that our hike took us in the opposite direction, along the il-Maxar – ix-Xlendi Heritage Trail. Still hilly and rocky but not vertical.

I saw the Usain Bolt of the lizard world dart across the path in front of us. Then Liesel saw one too, after which we saw a few, lone lizards, taking in the Sun on the rocks. Beautiful green lizards.

One thing we weren’t expecting to see was this little bridge. There’s no river, it just meant we didn’t have to climb all the way down the ravine and back up. I imagine this was constructed by the Romans. Or maybe the Brits.

Our destination was Sanap Cliffs, and we just enjoyed the walk in the sunshine, even as we were concerned that we might be off course, having lost the path, and might be tramping across someone’s crops. Still no sign of a goat or sheep.

‘This area, that forms the south-western part of the village of Munxar, is characterised by the high cliffs known as Sanap Cliffs. Sanap, from Maltese senapa, is the mustard plant that was possibly cultivated in the area. This place lies between Tal-Bardan, on the left, and Ras il-Bajjada in Xlendi, to the right. The surrounding fields are a grazing site for sheep and goats.

Sanap Cliffs offer an unparalleled view of the south coast of the island of Gozo. The highest point in the area is specifically known il-Pinnur, literally as the weathercock. This point is perched to the winds just as a weathercock. The island of Comino is to the left, and the north coast of Malta in front.’

So, sheep and goats do graze in the area, maybe they’re inside during the cold(er) Winter months.

As we approached Sanap Caves, our rocky, stoney, muddy path morphed into a paved walkway, very civilised. We even saw other people, but we didn’t join them at the cliff’s edge. Instead, we completed the loop, and walked back to Xlendi, following the road this time.

From a distance, neither of us could discern whether these crops were potatoes or cannabis, or maybe something else, more exotic.

Obviously, it was much faster walking along the road and we soon found ourselves by the waterside in Xlendi. We found Moby Dick Restaurant, enjoyed lunch, and coffee, and watched the Sun going down over the sea. Again, I took far too many photos of the setting Sun, with and without clouds, trying to capture the waves as they broke just behind the wall protecting Moby Dick and the other shorefront premises from the Mediterranean.

Another slog, well, a two-minute walk to the bus stop, where again we were serenaded by the susurration from a million small birds in the trees.

I think it’s fair to say that we enjoyed our few days on Gozo and that, having seen the weather forecast back home, we didn’t really want to go back. But we did, getting up early to catch a bus back to Mġarr for the ferry back to Malta. Having not seen a lot of wildlife (we can’t really count snails, lizards, cats and millions of small birds), you can only imagine the delight when we came across this old thing in the ferry terminal.

I know, I know, it looks like a donkey to us too, but the model really is titled Four Beautiful Women.

Waiting for the ferry to arrive gave plenty of opportunity to get some steps in by wandering around, of course. The boat trip itself was uneventful, as was the bus that took us across Malta, from Cirkewwa Ferry Terminal to the airport.

Malta International Airport. We checked in very quickly. A dozen or so desks, all staffed, which meant there wasn’t a ridiculously long queue. We got through security very quickly too. Lots of time to spare before our flight, so all we could do really was wander around, or sit in the Hard Rock Café for some lunch.

It was quite poignant sitting by Jeff Beck’s shirt, as he only passed away a few days earlier.

The flight was uneventful and finally, we dropped through several thousand feet of clouds to see the lights of Manchester.

Manchester Airport and yes, we were soon brought back to grinding reality. After a 3½-hour flight, it really shouldn’t take 1½ hours to get through immigration. Why was there such a delay? Because, again, only half the passport reading machines were plugged in and working. Mine wasn’t the only head shaking in disbelief.

And then we were driven home by the grumpiest taxi driver in the country. He took the longest possible route home and made a big deal out of finding his card reader because, of course, we didn’t have any British money on us. Welcome home, Mick and Liesel!

In happier news, the latest radio show was about Laughter Therapy, and it includes a chat I had with Sara about laughter and about Blue Monday. Listen here, right now, and have a laugh!

Fruit and five

It wasn’t really much of a cliff-hanger, was it? I was in the middle of a visit to The Museum of Science and Industry last time. The main reason being to buy a birthday present for William. I had a quick look around the museum before walking back to HOME Manchester where I met Liesel. Liesel who had been having another crochet lesson. I think she’s hooked.

For a moment I thought I’d missed a hailstorm, but this was the only evidence for such a phenomenon on this glorious day. Ice ice baby.

At HOME, I enjoyed the wildlife in the gallery, we’ve very rarely seen foxes since we moved to Manchester.

There are monkeys too, straw bales and all sorts of rustic items. We’re invited to decorate our own twigs too: no, I didn’t do anything rude. The Fieldnotes exhibition lasts until the end of January so if you’re visiting Manchester, go and have a look. The coffee here isn’t too bad either.

It was a good day for a wander around Manchester, so that’s exactly what we did. Next to the Central Library, the huge Santa seemed incongruous towering over the rightly vocal Iranian protestors.

The Christmas Markets are dotted all over the place in the city centre, and they certainly attract a lot of people. A couple of times, we felt so intimidated by the crowds, we took a detour.

After the pandemic (and yes, I’m aware, Covid is still a big deal), it is good to see so many people out and about, but maybe we’re just not used to being hemmed in any more.

Torrential rain greeted us the next day and I played the part of the cat in that Robert Heinlein story, the one that wandered round the house looking through all the windows, seeking out some decent weather. I was looking for a rainbow though. I knew there had to be one, with bright sunshine one way and dark clouds the other. In the end, I tracked it down. From our living room though, it was hidden by the oak tree.

We were a party of twelve in all, at the restaurant chosen by William to celebrate his fifth birthday. William joined Martha and cousins Annabel and Emily walking up and down the ‘cat walk’, the floor adjacent to our long table. Hands on hips, swaying and everything. A model 5-year old.

The only negative was when William was attacked by Spiderman, but he took it in his stride. And he was delighted with the cake, baked and decorated by Mummy and Daddy.

And of course, Martha fully engaged with the cocktails.

Back at home, we think we have sloes growing in the hedge. Maybe we should make sloe gin, but we’re not 100% sure that’s what they are. I should ask our horticultural correspondents.

It was our turn again this week to collect the children from school. At home, their Oma helped them make their own pillows. They both operated the sewing machine very well, and the pillows now have pride of place.

It was the day before Thanksgiving and Liesel cooked up a real feast for us all, nut roast, sprouts, carrots, special mashed potatoes, gravy, apple pie and pecan pie with ice cream plus a bottle of wine. Sorry you weren’t invited as well. And I think we’re all pleased that the US President hasn’t thought to pardon a nut roast along with a turkey every Thanksgiving.

It was such a nice day on Friday that we just had to go for a pasty, I mean, go for a walk at Quarry Bank Mill. Yes, the pasty was very nice, very spicy. And wandering around as we approach the end of November, it was surprising to see the harvest of strawberry.

Some of the trees are beginning to feel the Winter chill though, so the volunteer knitters have dressed them appropriately.

Who else can see ET in this tree?

I’ve glad to say we didn’t get lost as we walked around the grounds. That would have been embarrassing this week especially, since Directions was the theme of the show for Wythenshawe Radio. Not on FM though, on this occasion.

The studio in Wythenshawe Forum is being refurbished and I’m hope to be able to go along and have a go with it sometime.

Wasting time

Some people have too much time on their hands. Not only do they do pointless stuff that takes up a large proportion of the day, but they film it and upload it to Tik-Tok or Instagram for the rest of the world to see. I watched a guy (I’m sure it was a guy) sharpen a pencil with a knife, then sculpt something from just the point. There was someone who drew a very sophisticated doodle, freehand but with remarkable geometrical accuracy. Then there was the man who walked to the front of a queue of obviously desperate gentlemen. After a while, the man at the head of the line let the newcomer in. He then proceeded to pick up the Gents’ door, which was just leaning against the wall, and walk away with it. Whoever devised the advert depicting a Q-tip being forced to compress the wax in someone’s ear just created something that I spent less than half a second on. Still don’t know what the ad was for. I don’t know how long it took that bloke (I’m sure it was a bloke) to slightly bend and stand up playing cards from several packs so that they topple over like dominoes when the fisrt one is pushed over. It’s a marvellous effect, very entertaining and, apart from videos of cats, exactly what the internet was designed for. All those illegal websites that they don’t want you to know about. I’m not going to risk visiting any of those potential virus-mongers, thank you. An oblivious pedestrian being hit by a tram wasn’t something we need to see. No, if I solve your ridiculous puzzle, it doesn’t mean I have an IQ of 190. No, I still don’t understand NFTs and I still have no interest in cryptocurrency. Those facts you guarantee I did not know? Yes I did. Or you’re wrong. I wonder how many attempts it took the golfer before she got that hole in one? I really doubt anyone is owed thousands of pounds if they worked in Sainsbury’s or Morrison’s during the last six or seven years. Out of context clips from Friends aren’t really that funny. And thanks but I’ll be saving 100% on Black Friday since I won’t be taking up any of your ridiculous offers at all. Yes, it’s so easy to laugh at the people making these short videos. Then I realise I’ve wasted hours and hours just watching them. No wonder I have such a long list of things to do.

Sad to report that the weather is becoming more normal for the time of year. That is, colder and with lots and lots of rain, to the point where we’ve already had the first flood warnings here in Manchester.

Despite this, Liesel and I had a very enjoyable walk along a stretch of the Mersey that I’d not been to before, near Heaton Mersey. We parked by the Riverside Gym, crossed a dangerous road by a bridge and commented on the well-made path by the river, part of the Trans-Pennine Trail.

I am very grateful that this dog didn’t shake itself over me. It has happened before, so now when I see a pooch having a dip, I keep a very cautious eye on it so that I can make a hasty retreat, if necessary.

Speaking of floods, I wondered if this couple knew something we didn’t?

We spotted a fully laden apple tree but the pickable fruit was gone, and I was dissuaded from climbing the fence to reach the more challenging apples.

The thought occurred that at least an apple scrumped from a wild tree won’t contain any plam oil, which seems to be ubiquitous, in just about every other food item. Even when they claim it’s from a sustainable source.

A local lady was walking her dog and while we were looking at the map, she asked if we were lost. We weren’t, but just making sure we weren’t going too far off course, so soon before sunset. Hearing Liesel’s accent, she asked where she was from. Alaska. Oh, I have a niece in Wisconsin, she said. Then, looking towards me, what about you? I’m a southerner, I said proudly, happy to elaborate on being asked a follow-up question, but all she said was, ‘Oh’.

I’m sure we’ll revisit Mersey Vale Nature Park on another occasion. Possibly on the day we walk all the way from home, long the river, to Stockport. But not any time soon if this rain keeps on coming like this.

Our regular Wednesday walk took us through the woods which I think we expected to be much more muddy. The bed of fallen leaves was quite nice to walk on. The other day when I walked that way, I saw a young lady picking up golden leaves, the more pristine ones, unsullied by human footfall. I wondered whether she was going to create some wonderful work of art. What a shame that I, an old bloke, feel awkward about engaging a young lady on her own, out and about, in conversation.

Back at Boxx 2 Boxx, the café has been decked out to resemble the jungle. Our absent host Jill is taking part in the ITV game show I’m a Celebrity, Get Me Out of Here.

I don’t know whether the crocodile is in honour of Jill falling out of her hammock on her first day in the Australian jungle, where the show is filmed.

It is now less than forty days to Christmas. It comes round quicker every year doesn’t it?

This tree is fenced off in Wythenshawe Forum which I visited one evening for a meeting with many other Wythenshawe Radio volunteers. It was nice to put faces to the various voices: some matched my preconceptions, some didn’t look anything like I’d imagined. Did it occur to me take pictures of these new real-life friends? Nope. Sorry.

In medical news, Liesel had a bionic tooth fitted. She had to rest for the rest of the day, so it was down to me to visit John Lewis to buy a couple of crochet hooks. Mission accomplished. As I passed by the north pole, I decided not to visit Santa.

I was still half asleep when Liesel left to visit her crochet class. Half? More like 90%. But when I did eventually stir, I made haste to the bus stop where I waited a mere 30 seconds for the bus to take me into Manchester. This never happens. I usually see the back of the bus disappear up the road as I turn the corner.

It was seasonably cool as I walked to the Museum of Science and Industry, following a less than optimum route. One day, I will know Manchester like the back of my hand. One day. Straight to the café at the museum, of course.

I enjoyed my Middle Eastern Meze Wrap but I checked the ingredients and yes, of course, as expected, there was plam oil.

It’s been here for a while, but it’s still shocking to see something that I once owned in a museum.

My BBC Microcomputer was delivered on April 1st 1982. It finally gave up the ghost about fifteen years later in the middle of a ten-pin bowling game that Helen was playing. I tried to fix it with spares from another machine. However my soldering skills were and are rubbish, so I ended up with two totally useless computers. Who would have guessed that less than thirty years later, we would be wasting hours gazing at the small computer screens that are our smart phones? Smart phones, not-so-smart users.

Visit to Manchester to be continued next time. Will it rain? Will I meet anyone I know? Tune in next week for another exciting episode!

On this week’s radio show, I played some foreign language covers of popular English songs including a few suggested by the listener, for which I am very grateful. Catch up on over two hours of Mick’s Music Mix here:

In other news, I am pleased to report that our Michaelmas or Thanksgiving cactus (formerly thought to be a Christmas cactus) is blooming at exactly the right time again.