Increase Oil Production!!!!! What are you thinking!!?

So Gordon Brown has decided to increase oil production to try to stop the ‘fuel crisis’. Yeah that’s a great idea, plough millions of pounds into something that isn’t going to have much of an effect on the World oil market when you could be ploughing millions into finding an alternative. But what do you care, you are after the short term fix as you are only going to remain in office for 2 years, (max). Which is the main issue with politicians running the country, their stay in office is relatively short so long term decisions that will upset the masses are never made. Oh and the Nuclear fuel thing, oh my god!! The media keeps saying it’s a good idea but there is increased cost of waste disposal than there used to be. That’s maybe because it was never disposed of properly originally. Both at Sellafield and Douneray nuclear particles have been found on the surrounding beaches. It can’t be disposed of effectively!!! You can’t just throw money at it and hope that Nuclear Waste will disappear. Oy Gordon, make a radical decision and maybe I will actually have a jot of respect for you. The Severn Barrage, make it happen. Or to steal another Scotsman’s catchphrase, we’re all doooomed!!!

Confusion.

My boss has a raingauge and has just informed me that we have had the same amount of rainfall this May as last May. May 2007 wasn’t the wettest month on record in this area but the period May-July was and also the months June and July were the wettest on record. The law of averages tells me that we couldn’t possibly have a repeat of last year. On the other hand we have no idea what is happening to the climate at the moment. Is this freak weather or have we been in a realtively ‘dry’ period the past few decades or even the last century and this is a return to ‘normal’ weather. Or is it climate change, which has predicted warmer drier summers and wetter winters in this region so it doesn’t really make sense. But then again how can we predict what churning out all this CO2 will do to the atmosphere. Some German dude has recently released a model that says we will be fine now for 10 years, there will be no obvious rise in temeperature but after that we are in for a massive increase. I know myself that competer modelling is very subjective. What parameters did he use? Did he take into account the massive increase likley from China and India? (the IPCC emissions scenarios have tried to take this into account). Did he predict that the oil would run out so we would have to find another greener substitute for cars, planes etc..Who knows…All I know at the moment is it’s still chucking it down and i have a thunder headache which is being made worse by all the possibilities flying through my head.

Grrr I’m cross!!!!

Ok a subject close to my heart.

It’s about this argument that seems to be raging in the press about Princess Beatrice being fat. Some chick, (Alison Pearson) from the Daily Mail accused Bea of being pear shaped and a pampered Miss Piggy after a pic of her in her bikini on the beach was published.

It looks like the Daily Mail has found another subject for a Witch Hunt, what’s up, was Kate Moss busy?! The actual witch-hunt seems to be directed at Sarah Fergusson but as she has been a goody two shows recently they decided to aim it at her daughter.

I have no idea if Beatrice is pampered but she aint fat, the picture isn’t very flattering as it looks like her bikini top is about to fall off giving the impression she has saggy boobs, (which I’m sure she hasn’t). But I’m sure there were plenty of nice photos of her but the gutter press being as they are would not want to print one of those. Fergie has said she is a size 10 and come out with some very sharp to the point comments in response. Suggesting that the press wanted her to be anorexic coz that would give them even more to write about.

Why does this sort of rubbish ‘journalism’ always seem to come from bitchy media women. They are creating this freaking size zero culture where a chick that is size 10 is actually perceived as fat. I know it gives column inches but it’s just bollocks. Leave the poor girl alone and while you’re at it stop judging women by how they look. Apparently Alison Pearson’s predecessor, (also dead now) was the woman who attacked how Mo Mowlam looked when she was actually dying of cancer. Who gives a shit what she looks like? She was a great MP and played a major role in the Good Friday agreement. But no you couldn’t possibly focus on her being a very strong woman in a mans world, managing to do something that people had failed for 40 years to achieve. You had to say, “she’s looking a bit rough fancy going out looking like that!!” Well that’s what chemotherapy does to you. Ohhh look at me I have managed to combine my three major talking points into one blog, (1 Eating and weight issues, 2 Cancer and 3 Just my loathing of the gutter press)

A return to the dark ages

I just read on the BBC website that 11 woman in Kenya have been burned alive by an angry mob as it was suspected they were Witches.
Hello!!! What century are we living in?!!! Wiccan it part of the most ancient group of religions, what makes it less acceptable than any other? Well I expect the women weren’t actually Wiccan but just showing characteristics that the ‘angry mob’ didn’t like, for example having a brain. Sometimes I am thankful I live in Britain even with all of it’s bad points, (for example the Daily Mail)

5th annual surf trip

On Friday morning, Bob and I got up packed our stuff and headed south down the M5. After surprisingly few pie stops we arrived at our little caravan park that we have come to for the past 5 years. It’s in Croyde, North Devon which is a smallish village stretched around quite a large sandy bay. The caravan park is to the one side of the bay very close to the beach, and is quite a strange mixture of rough families with screaming sprogs to surfy type families with dreadlocks.

Bob and I got there about 2 ish and wandered around for a bit stopping at the Thatch for a couple of little drinkies before checking into the van. Gaz and Fred arrived about 7 ish closely followed by Chris. We wandered back up to the Thatch, this is the busiest pub in Croyde, (there is only 3 pubs though) and also has a strange mix of people. Lots of old couples having their din dins and loads of younger locals as well as the holidaying surfers, there also seems to be quite a large Antipodean contingent in Croyde. We had some dinner then went back to the van to wait for the others. Ben, Jen and Leanne arrived and the party started. Well actually we had some booze then went to bed. In the night there was a big rainstorm, the big drops falling on the fibreglass roof of the van kept me awake, also the tiny single bed took a bit of getting used too.

Next morning it was nice and sunny. I stumbled into the front room where Chris and Ben had been sleeping to be greeted by a very strange question. Supposing I had been for a walk with my dog, (I don’t have one but just supposing I did) and we had both got rather dirty, when I got back would I consider showering with the dog. I said no, hat was a bit odd. Ben agreed with me, Chris thought it was perfectly fine and would have partaking in such an activity had his girlfriend Lynn not stopped him.

The surf report was terrible 1 foot but clean so we were in no great rush. I cooked some bacon rolls for everyone then we wandered down to the beach to check it out. Yep it was rubbish so we played beach cricket for a couple of hours and also a spot of football. Fred is from Costa Rica and so must have been rather confused by the whole cricket thing, especially as Ben, Chris and Bob kept doing impressions of the dancing Monty Panesaar every time somebody was out. The weather was fab, sunny but quite windy, there were loads of kite fliers. Later on the surf looked like it may have picked up a little bit, (may be 1-2 foot) so we all traipsed back had a spot of lunch and then gimped ourselves up before heading back down to the beach. It was quite good fun although there was a lot of bobbing around waiting for a wave decent enough to make the effort for. I was actually quite glad after last years near drowning of most of the group it made a change to not have to worry and to keep counting how many people were in the surf.

We headed back tired but satisfied, the clock struck beer o’clock so we obliged. After everyone had showered and beered it was time to head out for din dins. Just before however Chris got up to some mischief, he showed us a little Spurs radio that he intended sneaking into Bobs things, (Bob is a big Arsenal fan), spotted his moment whilst Bob was getting dressed and put it in the pocket of his body warmer. Job done. We went to the Manor and had lovely food. On the table next to us was the biggest dog in the world. I thought about stealing him but decided against it as he may have eaten me. We then wandered back to the van and had a bit of a sing. This is also a tradition, not a Croyde tradition but it just occurs whenever Ben is anywhere near a guitar. A spot more booze was consumed then everyone was drifting off. The mixture of sea air, beach cricket and surfing was just exhausting.

Next morning was sunny again. The surf report was even worse, 0 foot, flat. We headed out anyway to have a look. After deciding it really wasn’t worth the effort we went over to Puttsborough just around the head to Croyde. It is a truly massive sandy beach with Woolacombe at the other end. And it was deserted. We played cricket again and Jen the demon bowler managed to get Gaz in the bits with a particularly nasty shot. There were more Monty impressions and even a couple of showboating one handed catches from Ben. Leanne and I decided it was completely unfair to make girls play a sport they really didn’t play so decided next year that it was time for a netball competition. She said she would bring the ball but I had to bring the court.

We headed back to Croyde and had some lunch at the Blue Groove before Ben, Jen, Leanne, Gaz and Fred headed off home. Myself, Bob and Chris decided to check out the swimming pool on site as we had never done so before. Unfortunately the slide had broken so we had to make do with the rapids. Now this was quite intense. The pool is rather small but the longer we were in there the stronger the current was until you just couldn’t stay still you were caught in this eternal loop of water pushing you round and round the rapids. I think some of the weaker swimmers had been in there for days. We eventually managed to swim to the side of the pool and cling on long enough to get out.

Afterwards Chris decided to make a move too leaving Bob and I alone. I decided to try and run off some of the booze and food I had consumed over the weekend. I had forgotten my trainers so decided a barefoot run was in order. Bob lounged on the beach in the late afternoon sun reading his book on the Crusades, (nice) whilst I ran back and forth past him. It was lovely and I felt pangs of longing. I really want to be able to run along a beach everyday. There and then I wanted to quit my job and move to Croyde. I would live in a caravan and work in a pub if I had to as long as it meant I could stay here forever. Reality kicked in and I told myself I don’t have it so bad so stop your whinging. I was washed my feet off in the sea and felt a strange sensation on my dodgy toe, (I hurt this a couple of months ago whilst snowboarding). I looked down and noticed the nail had become very lose. By the time I got back to the van it was sticking up away from my toe at 90 degrees. It didn’t hurt but it was very odd. I showed Bob who was almost sick. I had a shower and it became detached finally. There is a tiny little nail growing underneath, it feels odd having the skin on my toe exposed. After dehydrating on the traditional H2O Westons o’clock struck. I decided after my ordeal that was just what I needed so we had some nice Westons Organic before going to the Thatch for some dinner. It was open mike night, I don’t know who mike is but he is really crap at singing. We listened to a few people but then left. We returned to the van and went to bed.

Next morning we packed up our stuff, (I smiled briefly as Bob packed his body warmer in the car) and left beautiful Croyde. We went home via Clarks outlet village in Somerset then went to Glastonbury and Wells Cathedral before finally arriving back really knackered but quite satisfied. At one of the service stations Bob leaned into the back and put on his body warmer, I turned away trying to suppress the giggles as he felt something in the pocket and pulled out a spurs radio. Bob looked at me then the radio, I claimed it was nothing to do with me. Bob of course knew this, there was only one person who could be responsible. Over the years Chris has given him birthday and Christmas pressies consisting of a Spurs pen, setoff cuff links, a tie pin as well as various cards claiming that Bob was the biggest Spurs fan in the world. This may escalate as we get older, I am fully expecting one day that Chris will buy Bob as season ticket to White Hart lane for a laugh.

I’m now off the booze for a bit and need to run some more as I have a race on Sunday. I’m quite concerned about my naked toe though. I wonder if you can buy prosthetic nails.

Fake rabbit, real snake!!

I’m still buzzing from last night. You’ll have to excuse the blog it is very self indulgent, but it’s my blog so I don’t care.

Bob and I nipped in to Hereford after work and had some dinner. Then we had a bit of a wander down by the Wye. There is a new floodwall being built down there, which is quite exciting, (sad geek). Then we went to the Barrels, which I haven’t been in for years. It’s still the same, thank God. I started to get home sick. This pub means a lot to a lot of people. To me it was my haven when I was a teenager in Hereford. Most of the other pubs were filled with the townie brigade with the guys in their checked Ben Sherman shirts and the chicks in their little skirts leaving nothing to the imagination. I used to go here and it didn’t matter what you were wearing or who you were you were always greeted with open arms and a very large glass of Wye Valley. It’s been done up quite a lot but it still has the same heart I can tell. There was a band playing upstairs and people dressed as pirates on the terrace, (they didn’t have a terrace when I used to go there!) There was quite a posh looking couple with a dog talking to a very scruffy guy who had drunk too much cider. There was a small child dressed as a cat and a dude with the biggest beard in the world. I want to be able to go here every weekend! Bob actually knows a guy who lives with a chick who wants to move but he won’t as he won’t be able to go to the Barrels anymore.

After a couple of little drinkies we wandered down to the Jailhouse, this place has a bit of a story too and it involves the whole club scene in Hereford. I probably shouldn’t go into it now. But I will. The Jailhouse was the only indie club in Hereford and it’s tiny. It got quite a rep for its drum and base nights and then it got sold and became a generic meat market club called DV8. The drum and base night, (the lock-up) moved to Saturday nights at the Crystal Rooms, (The Rooms). The Rooms was a very old club which at that time had the longest running dance music night in the country, (Naughty but Nice). When I was younger I had seen all sorts of famous dance DJs, which was silly as I didn’t really like dance music that much but still there isn’t much else to do in the mighty Hereford so I went to see Judge Jules, Tall Paul, Boy George etc….Anyway the downturn in dance music happened and Friday nights became less popular. Saturdays on the other hand became very busy. So cue a big Dutch businessman buying the Rooms and closing it!!! He bought most of the street actually and has done a lot for redevelopment in Hereford but he didn’t need to close it!!! This left Hereford with only generic meat market clubs. This was until the guy who had sold the Jailhouse bought it back, changed the name back re-established it’s indie roots and everything was hunky dory.

Sooooo I was flicking through the Hereford Times at my parents a couple of weeks ago and saw a pic of one of my favourite bands, The Young Knives were playing the Jailhouse, I had seen them a couple of months ago, (see the blog) but one of my fav bands playing my home town, this wasn’t ever going to happen again. I won’t go into why I love them so much as I did this in the previous blog about them but going to see a band that dresses in tweed jackets, shirt and tie. Who’s names are Henry, Charles, (House of Lords) and Oliver and who do NOT try to be cool is just sooo fabulously cool in my eyes. Geeks who rock, bring it on!!

So in we wandered and I suddenly remembered how small it was. It must have a capacity of about 150 and only about half of them will be able to fit in the main room. Bob and I went and found a nice seat under the stairs and were chatting whilst listening to the support. Bob nudges me suddenly, it was the House of Lords going up the stairs, I shouted but he didn’t hear. I was quite sad as I think he’s great. He looks so un rock and roll god like in his think rimmed glasses and pink rosy cheeks, like a taller slightly bigger version of Bob. Then a couple of minutes later Henry the lead singer walked up the stairs, he turned around half way up to talk to someone and saw me smiling up at him. He waved at me and I waved back and told him I thought he was fabulous. He told me I was too to which I responded “but you’ve never seen me live” which made him giggle.

Then the House of Lords came back down the stairs and sat behind us at the t-shirt stand. By now he had changed into his stage get-up, cords a shirt and tie!! I wanted a t-shirt anyway so went up and shook his hand. He looks constantly terrified of any attention so I didn’t chat to him too much. I finally got an “I am the Prince of Wales” T-shirt. Then Henry came down the stairs with Oliver too and they all sat on the table next to us. Henry inherited the charm in that family. I had a little chat but I didn’t want to be seen as a sad groupie so really didn’t want to bother them too much. I got an autograph from Henry and the House of Lords and spoke to Oliver too, (I think he was secretly chuffed that someone recognised him). Then Bob and I went and saw the final support band. Brandon Steep. They were quite funky and I would definitely see them again. I’m amazed they managed to fit on the stage with 3 guitarists a drummer and keyboard player. When they went off we went to the front to get a good spot for the main event. There were these two girls, which I can only describe as sluts dancing to the tunes the DJ was playing. The band was clearing their stuff away and one of the guys happened to bend over, oh my god the one chick flew forward and grabbed his arse screaming yessssss!!! nice arse!!! The guy looked horrified, these must be proper groupies. I then thought of my behaviour earlier as very restrained. Actually, they weren’t groupies, they were just trying to bag themselves a guy who was in a band as they will prove in a bit. The band came on and there was the big surge forward. There was no gap at all between the stage and the band so it was all very intense. Henry introduced the House of Lords to everyone; the little sluts were suddenly behind me their arms squeezing through towards the stage trying to grab at him. I got cross for several reasons. They were trying to squeeze their way through to the front which wasn’t going to happen, also the House of Lords looked terrified, he had no where to go the stage was too small for him to move out of the way, I swear he looked down at me with a sort of pleading look in his face. So I did what any true fan would, I screamed yahhh fuck off and pushed them away with my more than ample arse. The chick next to me who had also been waiting patiently at the front also shouted elbows at me as she got one of the little sluts in the ribs. And off they went to stand in front of Henry instead who is more than capable of coping with the attention.

I know there are good things about being in a band and a lot of guys would think this is one of them but I think it’s awful. I went to a gig once to see Bob’s mates band play, (Cantaloop). They really aren’t that famous but they have a very loyal following. We saw them at a tiny venue in Leominster with Emily, (who went to school with Bob) who is the drummers Fiancée. After they had finished Randle, (the drummer) came up to chat with us and some little cow pushed Emily from Randles arm and said I realllllyyy LOoove you. Randle took a swig of his beer and just said well you’re only human. I certainly wouldn’t be able to deal with being a band member’s other half. It’s like they are public property or something.

Anyway the gig was amazing; I can barely speak today which is always a good sign. The acoustics weren’t that good but that’s because we were stood in front of the speakers as there wasn’t enough room for them on the stage. As mentioned there was no gap between the band and the crowd so the crowd surfers kept getting dumped on the stage as there was no where else for them to go. Also the mosh pit collapsed at one point and I got squashed against a speaker. I have a bruise on my hand and on my back, but it’s all good fun. We were just out of the crazy moshing bit which was good as I’m too old and small to mosh. One more little self indulgent moment happened. During the tune Turn Tail, Henry looked over at me and gave me a little wink and a smile before launching into the first line. I told Bob after expecting him not to believe me but he’d seen in too. Yay!!!

The Jailhouse also has Forward Russia, Hot Chip, Does it Offend You Yeah booked in the next few weeks so long may this continue

Hot summer h-h-hot summer

What an absolutely stunning weekend. Not that it was particularly exciting but I’ll tell you about it anyway.

On Friday after work I went for a 6 mile run in crazy humid weather but it felt good. Then after I got back and had a nice din dins there was the most incredible thunderstorm. We seem to be completely surrounded by lightening at one point. We turned all the lights off and opened the curtains like true geeks, our noses pressed up against the glass.

Then on Saturday Bob went to work and I went to Homebase, (other garden centres are available) and bought lost of stuff to aid my day pottering in the garden. I planted up my cucumbers, squashes and beans. Then I made some bread rolls and coleslaw for the BBQ we were going to have. I also found time to nip to the hairdresser and get 3 inches chopped off my scruffy locks, not that Bob noticed!!

Emily and Randle came around. I had lit the BBQ way in advance so I thought. It took 2 hours for the flames to die down by which point we had got bored so had eaten flame grilled food instead of just boring BBQ. I blame instant BBQs everybody now thinks you only get 20 minutes cooking time with a BBQ so have to chuck everything on ASAP. Anyway, we sat outside until 1am just talking rubbish about Emily and Randles pending wedding and Randles new album, (Cantaloop: I.C.H.I.L.E available at Itunes now at the bargain price of £7.99) and obviously the obligatory heated discussions about music in general.

Sunday Bob went to work and I did nowt. I should have gone for a run but it was far too hot for me. We went for a walk after Bob got home but that exhausted me. I’m not designed for this weather but I’m not going to complain because a nice bit of sunshine is very welcome after the disastrous summer last year.

No Darkness or melancholy

Friday evening Spex and Ebby arrived about 8ish and I fed everybody pizza. It turns out moments before arriving Spex had told Ebby “it’s ok if you don’t like them they are just the most important people in the world to me”. What a bugger. We then nipped out and had a few cheeky drinks in the Swan with 2 Nicks where we became dictators of the jukebox. Then off to Heroes where Siany had not been having a good night as the usual comedic bouncers were upstairs in the ladies physically removing people from the establishment. It was also quite chavy in there generally but it may have just been something in the air that night, (the stars were bright Fernando). When we were walking home some Neanderthal chav with his knuckles dragging on the floor deliberately walking into Bob. Mr Chav then swung around expecting a reaction as he was obviously after a fight. He must have been sorely disappointed as all of us carried on walking and didn’t even utter an insult to the sub human twat. Ahh what a shame, Mr chavvy wavy wanted to prove his masculinity by trying to get into a fight with a guy who is off below average height who was also with 3 other people of very slight build. He must be a real man. So we toddled off home and went to bed.

Saturday morning I rustled up some bacon sandwiches and we arranged to meet Dev and KP outside HMV. I managed to resist going into the shop even though I could hear the CDs screaming to me, (oy Jackie buy me even though you can get me cheaper at Amazon buy me, coz you get to have me now not in 2-5 days time…..). A little tangent here, Dev and Ebby had know each other years ago, apparently they went to the same primary school for a week or so but Ebby hated Dev so much she left, (Tee hee). Then they met up again at secondary school, but hadn’t seen each other for 12 years. Ebby became Devs friend on Myspace a couple of years ago and somehow infiltrated the original LXDAS and we all became cyber friends. I know this may not seem odd to some people who have loads of cyber mates who they chat to online regularly but Ebby is my one and only cyber friend, we ex cyber friend, I’ve met her now so surely she just becomes a friend?!

Off we all nipped to the station and caught the train to Brum. I’m sure Ebby must have been impressed with the tour of the West Midlands that the slow train to Brum gives you, Det-droitwich, Kidde, ahhhh beautiful beautiful Smethick. We got off the train at Moor Street and roamed the streets for a bit before finding a pub that seemed to be full of footy fans. May-Z came and found us and we had some food. May-Z then took us to a pub as he wanted to watch the footy. We decided to leave him there as it was rammed. Also I didn’t think it was good idea being in a pub that was showing both Birmingham City, (who could quite easily get relegated) game and a Villa game. We found another bar and drank some more booze, (slug and lettuce) whilst keeping an eye on the footy score. Brum lost and so did Villa. May-Z came and found us again all melancholy with his mate Rich, they left the pub early as it had started to kick off, surprising that.

We had some daytime drinking fuelled conversations about ear candles, not as everybody thinks for the removal of wax but for relaxation. I happened to mention that if they were nose candles they would need to be curved to stop you igniting yourself and hence you would look like a walrus. Well it amused me. Then it was time to leave, I was a bit wobbly by this point. We wandered to the academy and stopped on the way to admire the sculptures which KP and Ebby decided they would interact with. Once in the academy we spotted a girl with the shortest skirt I have ever seen. She had a very nice figure but it really didn’t leave anything to the imagination. However it was hypnotic and I found myself jus staring at this girl every time she was in my eye line. There were also some guys dressed as pirates, it seems the club night after the gig was having a pirate night.

The compare was guy called Polar Bear who started each little section with a poem, he was great. First band were Producers with Computers. They were very good and so happy and smiley that you just couldn’t help but smile back at them. The Mr Gideon Conn, I became briefly infatuated with this little guy. He had the most amazingly childlike innocent voice. He had us all singing a little song about electricity that had actions to it. The tunes were very chilled and reminded me of Cantaloop, (mates band). I went a bought a CD and Gideon signed it for me. Then the main event, Dan Le Sac vs Scroobius Pip. They were ace and I can’t really say much more than that. Scroobius has so much emotion and is really witty too.

The home time after loosing Ebby briefly, we stopped by KFC and met up with May-Z and Rich again. Then ensued a conversation about Spex having a watch with and Arab strap, or a strap made out of a whole bunch of Arabs. Dev and I almost had a fight with some guy who didn’t seem to be speaking English but took offence to us using the bin he was leaning on. Then we wandered back to the train station via, (in Ebbys case) a lamppost. Well she could have a really cool scar. The train station seemed to be stuck in the 50’s we decided we couldn’t have actually entered a time warp though as we seemed to be in colour and not black and white. Most people had a snooze on the train but Bob, May-Z and myself had a conversation about how Boris Johnson is Magic Johnson brother and they had an older sister Amy Johnson. It seemed to make sense at the time. Off we pootled home.

Next day we went to Hay on Wye to look at some books. We found some of the most random books in the world these were all in the window of one particular bookshop.
1) Jesus is a magician. We decided at that moment that Paul Daniels was Jesus and from now on it would be the virgin St Debbie Mcgee.
2) The big colour book of castration, must get me a copy of that
3) The wasp farm ???
And many more.

We then stopped for a drinky at a pub called the Kilvert. It had the biggest beer garden in Hay but somehow this seemed to get warped into us claiming it was the biggest garden in Wales. After the landlord tried to poison May-Z twice we went to the cinema bookshop which had the creakiest floors in the world. I found the shop within a shop that was full of dust and glass cabinets. Then off we drove home where everybody descended upon my house. Dev and May-Z used to live in my house when it was still a student house. Dev has been back many times but this is the first time May-Z has been there. It amused me the first thing he said about our newly installed kitchen was “very nice, where the dartboard”. He was also upset that there is no longer a bed in one of his old rooms as it is now the study. A game of Frisbee ensued which was quite difficult given the size of our garden. The everybody left and went home.

Bob and I chilled out and had a BBQ and a glass of vino.

A weekend away

Finally here is the blog about my trip to Belfast

I went to Northern Ireland to visit my cousin and his lady. Kev has lived in NI for about 10 years on and off, the off bits being spent in even more glamorous locations such as Kosovo, Afghanistan and Iraq. He is having a lovely house built with his lady O.

We got picked up from the airport on Friday lunchtime and got whisked away to O’s house to the west of Belfast. Kev told us all about how things had changed dramatically since he first lived there and much of it happening in the last 2 years or so. O’s house is lovely but she has sold it to her cousin who’s dad has done a deal with her over the land their house is being built on, (it’s all very complicated). We lounged around for a bit then nipped of into the village, (Moira) to get some lunch and have a few glasses of vino, (now this is the trend of the whole weekend). We chatted about ‘the family’ but that’s a very long complicated story. Kev then spent a small fortune at the off license and bought some meat for a BBQ then off to view the building work. Oh my god the house they are having built is huge. 4 bedrooms and the biggest kitchen in the world. Solar water heating, ridiculous insulation and reclaimed beams being used, yay well done you do listen to me sometimes. It’s beautiful and nestles into its surroundings perfectly. The house should have been finished for our visit but the windows were 6 weeks late so unfortunately it isn’t. Which means we will have to go back over for a house warming party, oh what a shame.

Back to the cottage where we got introduced to the cats, 2 strays called Slick and Marmalade who are the luckiest cats in the world. Their stray mother got run over days after giving birth. O and Kev knew there were kittens somewhere but couldn’t find them. 5 days after she was run over two very small balls of fluff managed to make it to the door step of the house. Kev and O fed them on milk and crushed up biscuits and they are now almost fully grown. There is also Cleo the cat who is the old timer and has serious arthritis so gets fed cod liver oil. Arhh bless.

We then mostly lounged around watching TV and drinking tea, this soon moved onto wine and then it was time for more food. And that was Friday night. I got a wee bit drunk but not too bad and talked about death and my ED. Must stop doing that.

Next day Kev got up early to go to work for a few hours, O cooked us brekkie and we read the papers. Then when Kev got back we went into Belfast on the train. What a stunning little city. First stop was the Crown just opposite the Europa Hotel it is just beautiful inside. The tables for eating are all inside little wooden cubicles like old-fashioned railway carriages. The windows are all stained glass and the ceiling a really deep red. I had Guinness for the first time ever. I thought i would hate it as I usually despise anything made with hops but I gulped it down and will definitely have it again, especially when anaemia strikes.

Anyway the Europa hotel, (ring any bells?) It did with me and looked really familiar. It turns out it is the second most bombed hotel in the world, (some place in Sarajevo wins that little competition).

Then off to another pub which I can’t remember the name of for some food. We then wandered around Belfast towards the River Lagan, (sometimes I can hear the water calling to me it says oy BINT I’m over here come and have a butches). Kev was shocked that some of the streets were actually open to walk down to the River as this had only just happened. It’s like being on the edge of something great, this little city waking up after 40 years of sleeping and suddenly thinks I know what I’ll do, I’ll be a city again not a bomb crater. This was especially apparent later on but I’ll get to that.

By the side of the river were the largest collection of Indie kids and emos I think I have ever seen. O and Kev were calling them freaks and stuff but i loved it, it’s certainly better than chavs. They were all there with their skateboards and BMXs listening to tunes, ahhh those were the days. I could digress but I won’t

After a bit more of a wander we went to Cafe Vaudeville which is a huge old bank. Vaudeville apparently is a style of theatre that was popular in N. America that used to encompass loads of diverse stuff from acrobats to mathematicians, (ooh that must have been exciting to watch!!). The building has a really high ceiling with a cast iron spiral staircase leading up to a VIP area on a sort of gallery over looking us mere mortals. The place has been decorated as decadently as you could possible imagine with Art Nouveau being the main style. Anyway, the place has a massive cocktail menu so we had a couple. It had full on cocktail makers which I have never really witnessed before. I had a Mojita, (my favourite).

Then we went to the Merchant Hotel Bar. Now the Merchant used to be the Headquarters of the Bank of Ulster and is a very grand old building. It is now a 5 star hotel but in a VERY unpretentious way. Everybody was treated like a queen here, (or a king). There were no tables left so we sat at the bar, we got bought nibbles and a jug of water and a cocktail menu by the immaculately dressed waiter. I ordered something pink and classic, I can’t remember what, (remember I had already had 2 cocktails). Now I was in awe of the last cocktail waiters but this place, oh my goodness. We were lucky to be sat at the bar because we got to watch these artists at work. There were two of them and both had different shaking techniques, one was up really high shaking the shaker way above his head, the other one was crouching down a bit shaking down by his stomach, when they both did this at the same time it looked like some sort of ancient dance. They tasted the cocktails before sending them out then the little headwaiter did the same and in more than one case the cocktail waiter said he wasn’t happy and tipped it away and started again. You certainly don’t get that in the Conservatory, (crappy cocktail bar in Worcester). I don’t think I can ever have cocktails anywhere else ever again after this place, they will just pale in to insignificance. As I mentioned earlier Belfast feels very new and there seems to be a great deal of anticipation. The going out in the centre of town in the evening thing is still very new. People used to stay where they knew each other and so you would only go to your local. Which is understandable especially when O told us about her Aunt who worked in the centre of Belfast in the 70’s and was in more than one bomb blast.

Anyway, time for din dins, just at a nice grill place. They had lost our booking but still managed to squeeze us in and gave us a nice window seat. We were all quite merry and a bit tired by now so after we had eaten O went and booked us our taxi and Kev went and stealthy paid the bill like he always manages to do and we went home. Then we had some more booze and I fell asleep on the sofa.

Sunday morning we had a nice breakkie and then got driven around the less desirable parts of Belfast. I wanted to see the murals and so we got driven down the Falls Road first. The murals are stunning and obviously a lot has changed in the area, there is now an open topped bus tour of Belfast that takes in the murals in the Loyalist and Unionist areas. Kev didn’t fancy this though and so drove us quite fast down the Falls road whilst pointing out the various famous murals. The most famous ones being of the 10 people who died whilst on hunger strike. I do wonder if the murals will now stay as they are tourist attrations or whether they really should get rid of them as it keeping the hatred alive. Ah well not for me to decide.

Just one little story of the troubles, which I think, illustrates the chaos and the violence caused by the constant retaliation. We saw the famous Milltown cemetery, which is where Michael Stone opened fire on the funeral of 3 IRA members who had been shot in Gibraltar by the Army. To try and stop any confrontation the Ulster Police and British Army had agreed to stay away from the funeral. Stone opened fire and chucked grenades just as the coffins were being lowered into the ground. He killed 3 IRA members and injured 60 more. His reasoning was that the IRA had bombed a Remembrance Day parade in Eniskillen killing 11 people. He ran off but was caught by the chasing crowd and bundled into a car. He was being driven off to be shot when the Ulster Police intercepted the car and took him to hospital then prison where he received 684 years, (he had also admitted shooting some other people before this paticular massacre). Anyway, during the funeral of the 3 that he had shot, two corporals in the British Army accidentally, (supposedly) drove into the middle of the funeral procession. TV cameras showed the men being dragged from their vehicle and taken away where they were shot. Michael Stone was released under the Good Friday Agreement in 1998 after serving 13 years of his sentence. In his autobiography he claims to regret what he did etc… but he still got arrested again for breaking into Stormont in 2006 whilst a debate was going on the devolution.

We then went down the Crumlin Road, past the Crumlin Road Gaol, which used to contain loads of IRA members and a couple of Loyalist terrorists too, (were they trying to cause trouble!!) but is now derelict. Then onto the Shankhill road to look at the Loyalist murals. I actually found these more alien. Such patriotism, loads of stuff about the Queen and a huge mural commemorating the Queen mother. Kev then took us to see the ‘peace wall’ oh my god, it’s freaking huge. It still gets locked at night but is generally open during the daytime now. There is just waste ground surrounding it. Anyway, we had a quick drive up to Stormont, then around to the dock where the Titanic was made and the vast Cranes Sampson and Golliath were tootling about. before stopping for some lunch then driving back to the house where we lounged around for a bit and Kev gave us a picture with all the murals on. Ahh bless. We then packed up and Kev took us to the camp where he is based and told us some nasty stories before dropping us off at the airport. All in all a lovely trip.

Pending jovialness, (did I make that word up)

I’ve not been posting very much recently. To be honest I just haven’t really felt like it as most of the stuff that is happening has always been tinged with sadness. I will finish my post about Belfast and shove that on here just to show I am still in existance.

Anyway this weekend should be good. Spex and Ebby are coming up tonight for some dinner and probably a few cheeky drinks. I’m not sure yet if we will be showing Ebby the sights of Worcester later, but if we do it won’t take long. Then Saturday we are off to Brum at some point to have a few more drinks and go and see Dan Le Sac Vs Scroobius Pip which should be good.

So be gone sad negative thoughts. Where is my happy crystal to clutch.