Arrivederci Alitalia

"Arrivederci Alitalia" was the not so subtle slogan emblazoned in 4 foot high letters along the length of the Ryanair Boeing 737 on which I'd spent the last couple of hours. The slogan clearly making a self satisfying, smug & rather embarrassing reference to the plight of Italy's beleaguered and bankrupt national airline. So it was with an appreciable amount of embarrassment that I exited the plane into the warm glow of an Tuscan Saturday morning and proceeded along the tarmac to the Pisa arrivals hall.

My plan was to go to Florence for the day and then head back to Pisa in the evening, where my hotel was located. Sunday would be spent taking in the delights of Pisa before heading back to the airport for the return trip. Little did I know, quite how long I would spend in Pisa this morning !

I breezed through the arrivals hall, bypassing the baggage carousel as I had hand luggage only and went in search of the train station. The station, I discovered is located at the far end of the terminal building, near the departure check-in desks so I had to negotiate my way through both the arrivals hall and the departures hall. Eventually I left the gloomy terminal building and exited into brilliant sunshine. I looked around for a train ticket machine but couldn't find one. Nor could I find any ticket booth. After a brief, but ultimately fruitless search I found myself inside of the terminal building once again and spotted the sign for Train tickets, or biglietto as it is in Italian, at the very far end of the terminal building alongside arrivals from where I had originally come ! Now wouldn't you think that the station and the ticket office would be located at the same end of the terminal ? How about putting the ticket office, in the station itself ?? I was thinking this as I followed the signs back through the terminal. Now where are the ticket machines ? I was dismayed to see that there weren't any, only a single ticket window which was barely visible at the head of a truly enormous queue. No ticket machine ? At an airport with tens of thousands of visitors, many of which need to travel by train to somewhere else ? I best queue up then ! I waited patiently in line for nearly 40 minutes. Whilst queuing my gaze fixed upon a handwritten sign that said "left luggage" and a large arrow pointing left. I naturally looked left expecting to see a little window with a cheery man inside it or maybe a little door into a vacuous room, so I was amazed to see another handwritten sign also saying "left luggage" with an equally large arrow pointing to the right. Huh ? Presumably you just leave your baggage in a large heap roughly halfway between the two signs ? This is going to be an interesting trip ! I was eventually dealt with by a clearly overworked but incredibly helpful & patient girl who sold me a ticket to Florence and ushered me in the general direction of the station. Proudly clutching my ticket I fought my way, once again past the arrivals and departure halls and proceeded towards the station. Pisa Airport station has 2 platforms. Neither platform was occupied by a train. One had a large LED display that read "12:24 Firenze SMN" (Florence Santa Maria Station). The other platform had a blank LED board. The time was 12:17. What luck ! I'll board the direct train to Florence when it arrives. I stood on the platform and waited..... and waited.... and waited. Eventually the Worlds oldest electric train puffed, coughed and wheezed into the station and abruptly stopped at the other platform. The time now was 12:46. I went to look on the display board to see where the train was going. The board was still blank. The Firenze SMN train was still being displayed on my platform even though it should have left 20 minutes earlier but had obviously not bothered to turn up. Eventually I discovered that this museum piece of a train at the other platform was headed for Pisa Central so I climbed aboard and found myself a seat. We waited for 25 minutes until finally the electric motors breathed into life, the doors closed firmly and we moved off at walking pace....... or possibly slightly slower. After a mere 2 minutes or so, we came to a halt and I was staggered to see that we had arrived at Pisa Central. So an hour and a half after joining the ticket queue, I had travelled about a mile. Just Brilliant !

I looked at the timetable for Florence trains and saw that the next one was 13:29. It was now about 13:10 so I strolled to platform 9 to wait for it. The platform was full of faces that I recognised from my flight. We all patiently stood there, pasty faced and dressed for a UK Autumn day, hats, jumpers, jeans, jackets and coats. We didn't look like tourists at all as we vigorously perspired under a warm Italian sun! After a few minutes had passed we heard an announcement, firstly in Italian and then again in English, that "the 13:29 train to Florence would be departing from platform 5". We gathered our bags and headed off to platform 5. When we arrived, there was no sign of the train, so we settled down to wait for it's imminent arrival. Another tannoy message "The 13:29 to Florence will be departing from platform 11". Once again we gathered our belongings and headed off in search of platform 11. On arrival, another absent train and another tannoy message "The 12:54 to Florence will be departing from platform 13". 12:54 ?? It's 13:25 !!! However, I can at least see platform 13 and there is a train alongside it, albeit rather dreary looking and of advancing years. However a train is a train and we'd seen precious few of those so far this morning. We gathered up our belongings a final time and headed at speed to the platform and duly boarded. In a perverse way I was kind of enjoying this ! A couple of minutes later the doors closed and the train struggled out of the station. I was beginning to think that my whole weekend would be spent standing at station platforms in Pisa. However we were now definitely on our way to Florence, albeit some 30 minutes later than advertised.... or 5 minutes early depending on how you view it. The trains age was abundantly clear and had obviously seen better days. It was plainly struggling to achieve any sort of speed and was groaning & squealing loudly at every opportunity. I didn't mind however, I was on my holidays and whilst I didn't expect to be overtaken by a man walking, I say again WALKING, his rather skinny looking dog nor spend all day looking at the Pisa suburbs, complete with Italian graffiti and that dilapidated heavy industry you always see near railway lines, I wasn't in any rush. Good job too. The train eventually wheezed into the first station, like it had just completed a marathon, all wobbly legs and in need of a bacofoil blanket, whereupon the whole carriage immediately filled with smoke! Clearly something was amiss. I popped my head out of the window and through the plumes of smoke emanating from beneath our very feet I could clearly see the unmistakable lick of flames. Not wanting to alarm my fellow passengers, I didn't shout "FIRE" at the top of my voice, I said it very quietly. "Pardon?" was the response, "we're on fire" I exclaimed slightly louder, much to the concern of all around. Within moments the conductor appeared, or at least some train official who announced in her best English "there's a problem with the train". Yes, we had noticed. She proceeded "You see the doors, are, how you say ? locked ?" Huh ? "We cannot open the doors, did anybody want to get off at this station?" So let's have a brief recap shall we ? We're on fire and the doors are jammed" Fantastic. I haven't had this much fun in years. At no time had this lady mentioned the fire that continued to burn only inches beneath us so I asked her if she knew. "We have a fire?" she seemed surprised. "Oh yes, can't you smell it ??" was my ever so slightly sarcastic response. She thought for a moment as if trying to solve a crime, before announcing "It'll be the brakes!" "Do the brakes often catch fire?" Well, I thought it rude not to ask. "Oh yes" she replied "they do that all of the time". Well that's nice to know I thought.

After a few minutes, the smoke had largely cleared and all that remained was a strong smell of burning oil. You know that smell ? The one that you always encounter before you die horribly in a huge fireball and the dentist has to make a wild stab in the dark as to who you may have been ! The train, still with dangerously jammed doors and a pungent aroma, mustered the strength to attempt another station and pulled away. This scenario was to carry on for around another hour & a half, although admittedly - and thankfully - the smoke and fire seemed to subside the longer we went. As we were approaching Empoli station, the conductor appeared again. "There's a problem with the train" She's full of good news isn't she ? I did wonder what it was now. Attacked by cutlass wielding pirates perhaps ? The driver drunk at the wheel? Squirrels on the line? Nothing would surprise me with this rail network. It was actually a hydraulic problem on this occasion. She continued "there is a train behind us which is also going to Florence" I cynically assumed this was the 11:08 from platform 6 but actually left unannounced from platform 12 at 13:50 and had caught us up, purely because it hadn't had a fire, dodgy brakes, a jammed door or any hydraulic problems ! "If anybody wants to leave this train and get on that train, you'll get to Florence much quicker, possibly even by Tuesday" Well, she didn't actually say Tuesday, I made that bit up, but you get the picture. There was much discussion from my fellow passengers. One lady even asked me if I was changing trains "Are you kidding me? I'm having too much fun on this one. Besides where else are you going to have this much comedy on a train ? Well, apart from Britain of course. I'm staying on this train and getting my moneys worth. It's the most fun I've had in ages" Surprisingly this outburst seemed to settle all of the discussions and nobody in my carriage left. As we pulled into Empoli we watched as hordes of passengers left our crippled, old but feisty little engine and crossed the tracks to the opposite platform. I swear the lady opposite wiped away a tear as she looked longingly out of the window and realised that it could have been her !




The rest of the journey into Florence was uneventful after that, maybe the lighter weight of the now, near deserted train gave the locomotive a second wind and it did build up some speed as we passed through some glorious Tuscan scenery, bathed in autumnal sunshine. The trip ended in a triumphant flurry of smoke and diesel fumes as we pulled into the cities main station. It was now after 3pm, so much for my day out in Florence !!!

Florence is the Capital City of Tuscany, and has a population of around 350,000. It is largely considered the birthplace of the Italian Renaissance.
Like Pisa, the city lies on the banks of the River Arno and is crossed by one of Florence's finest attractions, The Medieval 'Ponte Vecchio' or 'The Old Bridge' - they must have been up all night thinking of that name!. This bridge is quite startling to look at. It has extended outwards, creating gravity defying shops that literally hang over the water. Enlarge the bridge photo above for a better look ! These shops were formerly built to accommodate the butchers but now they're almost all exclusively occupied by goldsmiths and jewellers.

I eventually left the bridge and went in search of the Piazza della Signoria. This entailed a rather circular route as there weren't any signposts and the streets were narrow, cobbled and wound around the city. Most of the streets looked the same which didn't help and there were very few visible landmarks to guide me. As the day wore on I navigated myself almost entirely by way of SatNav as I had brought it with me because it had been invaluable in Berlin. I would really have struggled to find my way around without it and I don't think I would ever have found my way back to the station if it wasn't for TomTom. I must admit that I was amazed at the lack of tourist signs throughout the entire weekend. I am guessing that this part of Italy is very much driven by the tourist industry and not to provide any information with regards to signposts or "you are here" maps, seemed rather shortsighted.

The Piazza della Signoria was superb. The sheer number of statues was astonishing. The centre piece was an identical copy of Michael Angelo's 'David'. Bizarrely, the original is only about half a mile further up the road! Unfortunately, 'David' (the copy) was surrounded by scaffolding which reduced it's visibility somewhat as the photo to the left illustrates. The equally naked statue depicting Hercules and Cacus looked too homo-erotic for my taste so I gave that one a wide berth. In fact clothes seemed to be rather superfluous in renaissance Italy as none of the statues seemed to have any. Additionally, McDonalds clearly had not made an impact on Italian life in those days as the physiques on all of the statues were very impressive. Absolutely no beer bellies or man boobs to be seen. Although there were plenty of todgers ! The square was heaving, presumably with tourists such as I, but also shoppers passing through. There was a horse and cart doing brisk business. I sat down and watched the people go by. My feet were hurting, especially my left instep which didn't feel good at all. I didn't recall banging it in anyway so I assumed that my trainers weren't providing sufficient support on the cobbles. Still, I'm made of strong stuff and decided that there was little I could do, other than to stoically put up with it.

I headed off to the Basilica di Santa Maria del Fiore (Florence Cathedral). This buildings architecture was stunning and had an enormous bell tower alongside. Italy certainly knows how to create magnificent buildings. The Basilica was started in 1296 and took 170 years to complete, no doubt with numerous tea breaks and much staring into holes saying the Italian equivalent of "oooooooh it's going to cost you".

After several hours hobbling around Florence, enjoying the sunshine and soaking in the atmosphere, as well as getting hideously lost when the SatNav was in my pocket to save battery, I arrived back at the Santa Maria Station and bought my ticket from a machine. The train was leaving from platform 11 in 10 minutes but by now I was highly dubious of any of TrenItalia's claims but I went to platform 11 in any case. I didn't expect to see a train at the platform so I was staggered to see that there was... but it wasn't going to Pisa as I'll explain. The LED board for platform 11 said "Pisa Central" and I even spotted a train driver in the cab, this was looking promising. I tried to think of the Italian for "Excuse me Sir, Is this the train to Pisa at all?" but settled in the end for a much less adventurous "Pisa ?" with a point of the finger at his train. The man smiled and shook his head. "Thata traina" he responded and pointed enthusiastically at the train standing on the opposite platform under a huge sign saying 'Grosseto' - wherever or whatever that is ! I was a little unsure as to whether this drivers information could be relied upon but in the absence of anything else, I thought I'd chance it anyway. Luckily for me, he was right ! The train was such a difference to the one in which I had arrived. This train was new, clean and a double decker. It smelt fresh, wasn't covered in graffiti and had air conditioning. The only negative was that it was absolutely heaving, standing room only. Clearly the residents of Western Italy had all travelled to Florence for a days shopping and were now on their way home. Around 15 minutes after boarding, the doors closed and the train glided out of Florence into the low sunshine of a Tuscan evening. The ride back to Pisa was uneventful. I even managed to find a seat after a couple of stops. I was thankful of the sit down as even with a shortened walk this afternoon, the cobbled streets had taken their toll on my feet and my trainers weren't as robust as I would have liked. My feet were killing me, especially my left one, which it later transpired had swollen to twice it's original size, making shoe removal extremely difficult. On arrival in Pisa, I once again fired up the SatNav and headed off in search of the hotel. This turned out to be around 20 minutes walk from the station and with my feet in agony, was spent with a fixed grimace on my face. I was therefore very relieved when the hotel came into view. Minutes later I was checked in and turning the key into the door lock. The hotel was excellent and at £63 for the night was quite a bargain.

I woke the following morning and attempted a quick trip to the bathroom - a distance of maybe 2 metres - and I could barely make it. My left leg wouldn't carry me and my left foot was still twice the size of the right and my instep was sore to touch. I did wonder how I was going to walk around Pisa all day when I couldn't even make it to the ensuite ?

Following a delicious and hearty breakfast I exited the hotel, adopted the same grimace that I sported the previous evening and with SatNav in hand headed off in the general direction of The Torre de Pisa. Now you would have assumed that the Tower, being Pisa's biggest attraction, would be well sign posted. You would be wrong. I didn't see a single direction sign, not one. I naturally assumed that the tower would be visible all over Pisa, much like The Eiffel Tower is in Paris or the TV Tower is in Berlin but this was not the case. Even when the SatNav was telling me that I was a mere 300 yards away from the Tower, I couldn't see it. Then all of a sudden, there it was. Considerably smaller, at 55 metres, than I had anticipated and leaning at a quite alarming angle. The Tower itself is actually banana shaped, being much straighter at the top than it is at the bottom. I think this most apparent in the above photo of the Piazza del Duomo (Cathedral Square).

The Tower was built as the free standing bell tower for the Cathedral, which you can also see in the above picture and the 2 panoramics below. The dome shaped Baptistry is also located in the Piazza and doesn't look anything like a building that was completed in 1363. I can't imagine any of the buildings in modern Pisa lasting for over 600 years.

The tower began leaning shortly after construction started in 1173, due to a poorly laid foundation and loose sandy substrate that has allowed the foundation to shift. It currently leans at around 4 degrees, although it looks significantly more. I did ponder a trip to the top but I needed to buy a ticket in advance and then wait until my given time. I was concerned about my ability to climb the 294 steps with my bad leg and felt embarressed that I may hold up those coming up the narrow and spiral steps behind me. I decided that on this occasion I'd pass on the opportunity and view the scenery from ground level.




The Tower is an amusing place to hang out for an hour or so. This is largely due to watching countless people try to create the perfect "Here's me holding up the leaning tower" pose. You cannot believe the numbers of people who stand around with their arms out whilst cameramen say "left a bit, a bit more, a bit more, no that's too much, right a bit, that's it !" On my visit there seemed to be an exceptionally large number of American's in town, maybe there always is. They were easily identifiable wearing their shorts and baseball hats. The Japanese were also in large numbers and as always travelled in enomous groups taking photo's of everything, regardless of how mundane. I could have spent all weekend in that piazza just watching the tourists.

After an hour or so I left the Piazza del Duomo and started to wander back towards the City Centre, passing through the Old Town. This was dominated by old, perhaps medieval brightly coloured houses with terracotta roof tiles. The River Arno meanders slowly through the City and the houses on the banks are particularly pretty.


Eventually, I found myself back at the station and as I was in considerable pain, I decided that I didn't want to walk much more. My flight was due to leave in a couple of hours so I thought it was a good time to catch the train back to the airport and thereafter my flight home. I had taken note of the platform number on my arrival the day before (platform 14) and amazingly the train duly arrived at that very platform (first time this weekend) and even more amazingly, it departed at roughly the correct time. Another first ! Once again, the train ride between the city and the airport lasted a shorter length of time than it took you to read this paragraph but at least it didn't involve me having to walk and for that I was very grateful.

The whole weekend was excellent, hysterically funny on the Saturday and Italy's rail system really makes ours look World class. I highly recommend a trip and as the plane climbed out of Pisa and into the deep blue sky over the equally blue waters of the Mediterranean, I remember thinking "Arriverderci Italia, the airline may not return but I certainly will".

Things I've learnt this week

Pisa airport needs ticket machines
To wear better shoes when walking extensively on cobblestones
That Italy needs better tourist signposts and a better rail system !


Things that have made me smile this week

The TrenItalia trainset - total chaos... but it wouldn't be the same if it worked !!

Until the next time.....

Catching up......

I've been quite tardy in not updating this since mid July, but that doesn't mean that I haven't been busy. I thought that it was probably about time that I posted a quick catch up, so in no particular order...

I changed jobs. This wasn't my decision mind you, but a consequence of my life as a contractor. I joined this client for 6 weeks and they kept me for 6 months. Eventually however they couldn't negotiate any further extensions with Head Office and the axe fell on 31st July, which was very disappointing as I did enjoy working there and would have accepted a permanent deal if one had been offered. Never mind, it's a contractors life I guess ? However, in anticipation of my impending departure I had already arranged a new contract to begin a week after my old contract expired. This was so I could take the opportunity of having a week off to chill out. This was to be my first week off in 13 months and I was looking forward to it immensely. Unfortunately the weather in early August was awful so I didn't do as much as I would have liked.

Whilst I was off on my weeks leave, I did take a long overdue trip to Chester Zoo. I love the Zoo, especially the Bat cave which is just the best exhibit. One of the reasons that I love Chester Zoo especially, is the large number of enclosures where there aren't any bars. The enclosures are cleverly designed to allow the animals to be fully viewed but without any danger of the animals escaping. The bat cave is a prime example of this. The bats fly around the enclosure whilst the public walk about beneath them. Occasionally a bat comes down to the floor and you really have to watch your step to avoid treading on them. Another example of the fabulous enclosures at the zoo is Lemur Island. Quite literally this is an island, viewable from all sides and the Lemurs swing about in the trees, just like nature intended. No bars. No cages. No restrictions. Other highlights were the elephants, the Orangutans and the almost un-noticed leaf cutter ants that live on a small tree in the middle of a public walkway and busily go about cutting leaves and carrying them back to their nest. Most people don't notice them, assuming as I did, that the tree it's nothing more than a fancy "house plant" decoration but closer inspection proves otherwise. As always a day at Chester Zoo is a fantastic day out.

I've bought a bike ! I'd been thinking of buying one for ages and eventually found a great deal on the Internet. It's a 21 speed, flappy paddle gearbox Raleigh Toronto mountain bike with disc breaks. It should have cost me £260 but because it was 'end of line', I picked it up for £130.. result ! My plan is to ride it mainly on the various cycle path's around my area, rather than on the roads. Having acquired the usual safety accessories, I've taken it out on a handful of occasions but I don't expect to get much use out of it until the Spring, given the weather we experience from this time of the year.

I'm still kayaking regularly on the River Dee and luckily we've had a few decent weekends, weather wise in order to do it. The tranquility of the river is particularly engaging and I'm always amazed by the acceptance of the wildlife of my presence. The ducks and swans ignore me as I paddle past as do the kingfishers, herons, cormorants, water voles and numerous other creatures that inhabit that particular section of the river. It was only recently when flying over Chester on yet another trip into Europe, that I was dismayed to see how short a distance I paddle when I'm out on the water. I always assumed I was paddling for miles as my usual route takes me a couple of hours from start to finish but, when viewed from above, it was an embarrassingly short distance ! Never mind, I think it's good exercise and incredibly relaxing.

I spent one of my days off going to the delightful town (or is it a village?) of Betwsy Coed in North Wales within the heart of the Snowdonia National Park. As always the town was alive with tourists but it's easy to see why. Betswy Coed is surrounded by the soaring mountains of Snowdonia, has the River Conwy running through it in a seemingly never ending rush towards the distant sea. This rush creating white water over the rapids. Betwsy Coed has delightfully pretty cottages with picket fences and colourful hanging baskets and is well worth a visit. Additionally, I always enjoy the drive to Betswy Coed, preferring to take the quiet back roads through the countryside, dodging the grazing sheep rather than taking the featureless A55 dual carriageway along the coast. The photo at the top of this post, and the ones below were taken on one of these back roads. The photo immediately above shows the River Conwy passing through Betwsy Coed.





I went ghost hunting at Woodchester Mansion in Gloucestershire with my friend Susie from Birmingham. As regular readers will know, Woodchester Mansion is one of my favourite haunted locations and it must be a year since I was last there. Susie had never been and was really looking forward to it. The drive to the mansion is spooky in itself as you have to drive slowly through the woods. On this particular occasion the wind was strong and the enormous clouds were depositing large volumes of rainwater. The wind and the rain made the woods very noisy as we passed through in near total darkness, apart from the convoy of car headlights from our fellow paranormal investigators. The clouds were scuttling across the sky but every so often a break in the clouds would expose a full moon making the whole scene very eerie indeed. Unfortunately, the mansion was quieter than usual in terms of paranormal activity with very little of note occurring. However, as always it was a privilege to spend an evening there. We broke at around 5am and after a brief sleep in a local Travelodge, we headed over to nearby Bath for lunch. The traffic into Bath was truly horrific. It must have taken us well over an hour to travel a couple of miles into what seemed to be the only car park in the City. The weather was now glorious, an astonishing change from the night before and once we had parked (by now, mid afternoon) we enjoyed a pleasant Saturday afternoon stroll through the city - dodging an unprecedented number of Ambulances. Bath has never struck me as being a dangerous place but I think that Susie and I were the only one's in Bath not in need of medical assistance that day ! Although, I do wonder whether calling an ambulance was a subtle method the locals use to get through the traffic ?? Bath was superb, reminding me very much of Chester and York. A fact I put down to the Roman heritage it shares with both of those cities. We did head towards the river but couldn't find a route to the waters edge and the restaurants at the rivers edge all required a mortgage to eat there, which put us off somewhat. We did however enjoy a very tasty Thai lunch at a very reasonable price a little later. Susie had spotted the restaurant on the way in to the city and somehow managed to find it again within the myriad of narrow streets that comprise the centre of this roman city. My sense of direction was sadly lacking in that respect and we'd still be looking even now if restaurant navigation was down to me. We eventually headed back to the car and after stopping for strawberries at a street side seller, headed for our respective homes. The picture below is an panoramic of Bath Cathedral.


My killifish have been breeding and rather than let the fry fend for themselves in the tank as usual - which in reality means they get eaten, I decided to remove the eggs and rear them myself. This entailed purchasing a small 10 litre tank, a heater, filter and other essentials. Now some 2 months on, I have 11 baby killifish and 2 baby Leopard Danio (whose eggs must have sneaked in with the killi's). I've added a short video below that I recently shot. I'm not sure what to do with the fish as yet. I don't really have the room to keep them and I'm fully stocked in my main tank so I suspect they'll end up being given to a local fish shop for sale. I could sell them on EBay but I don't think I can be bothered with all the hassle, especially with the mail order problems of posting live fish across the UK.



I've some other trips planned for the near future. I'm heading off to Italy for a weekend one day soon. I've trips to see both little bro and his family in Sussex and older bro and his family in France. I've already booked a trip to Barcelona next year. I'm also making plans to drop into the street where they filmed the 80s comedy, Bread and also visit the road where they filmed Brookside.

Things that have made me smile this week:-

Comedian Bob Levy on The Howard Stern Show "I was having sex with this woman who was so old, when she shouted "I'm coming" she was talking to God !"

Until the next time, when I'll be writing about my Italian trip.....

An Obituary

This entire post is dedicated to the memory of my trusty Swiss Army knife, which regrettably is no more having been confiscated by Security at Liverpool John Lennon airport. I had taken it to Kent the previous weekend as part of my camping equipment but then forgot it was in my bag, hence it's unexpected and no doubt starring appearance on the airport X-ray screens! I've had that penknife for something approaching 30 years and I was truly devastated to see it taken away as a potentially dangerous and malicious tool. Especially as that penknife has never hurt or upset anybody. It's only ever brought joy to the World. It's cut when things needed cutting, it's sawn when things needed sawing, it's both screwed and unscrewed, it's magnified very small objects, it's uncorked corks, it's removed bottle tops and performed numerous other tasks, often in emergency situations when nothing else was available. In fact it's done everything for me over the years other than maybe removing stones from horses hooves - which incidentally it was fully equipped to do ! I've since replaced it with a near identical model and I'm sure my new Swiss Army knife will prove equally as useful and long lasting, but, if I'm really being honest..... it will just never be the same.

Final note: I was given the option of posting the knife back home but I had to buy a padded 'jiffy bag' from a vending machine to do so. The cost was £4 and the machine took large coins only. The machine did not give change. I had £20 on my person in notes, as well as both credit & cash cards. The machine did not accept either notes or cards so I didn't have the £4 needed, in the denomination required. The security guards do not exchange money so I didn't have any alternative but to accept the loss of the item. It does make me wonder whether this is part of their plan when they install a 'cash only' non-change giving, vending machine & set the cost at such a specific amount before placing it in a secure environment where you can't return with the necessary cash and a no doubt, unwanted magazine or newspaper procured from the first shop on the other side!

Friday was a glorious day, warm and sunny 'a perfect day for being off work' I remember thinking..... as I peered out of the office window and wished that I was ! However tomorrow was Saturday and I would be off to enjoy the sun. Saturday dawned and I eagerly drew back the blinds to discover black, leaden clouds and torrential rain. Bugger ! If I was going to find some sunshine I'd have to travel a little further afield than my own back garden. I only had 2 hopes and unfortunately one of them was Bob - and he's dead. The other hope was to travel to not only the British Isles most southerly location but also it's sunniest, Jersey. The flight leaves in a couple of hours so I better get a wriggle on.

Jersey is a part of the British Isles but it isn't a part of the United Kingdom nor Great Britain. Additionally, it isn't a part of the European Union. It is officially designated as a Crown Dependency and looks after it's own affairs. As such Gordon Brown is not the Prime Minister. Jersey is a mere 14 miles from France which makes it closer to France than the UK mainland, which is 87 miles away. In fact the Channel Islands were historically French, having been a part of Brittany until 933 whereupon they was passed to the Duchy of Normandy. The Duke retained control until they were passed to his descendant, the man who became known as William The Conqueror. William subsequently conquered England In 1066 and brought England and the Duchy of Normandy under one Monarch. The Channel Islands have been a dependency of the British Isles ever since.

I have been to The Channel Islands on several occasions and have visited the Islands of Jersey, Guernsey, Sark & Herm. On each occasion however I've arrived, and left, by yacht having crossed the channel overnight whilst trying desperately to avoid the Ironmongery in the busy shipping lanes. I've therefore never previously flown into the Islands. Despite my embarrassing terrorist moment at the X Ray screen, which resulted in a Security Guard opening my bag and rummaging about my clothes meaning that I had more fingers running past my undies than Paris Hilton on Prom night, the rest of my trip was uneventful. It did however have one funny moment when the two school aged girls sitting next to me, mistook the coast of Normandy as Jersey itself and exclaimed astonishment at how large it was. "It goes on for miles" was one such comment, "we'll never ride our bikes around that". Brilliant !



As seems customary for my trips these days, I had to catch the bus from the airport to St Helier town centre. As always I had no idea where I had to get off but the bus gave it's destination as "St Hellier - Liberation Square" and I thought that sounded like a good place to start my exploration. I could therefore stay on until it reached the terminus. I didn't realise that once the bus gets to Liberation Square , the driver changes the destination sign at the front of the bus, so it reads "Airport" and it makes it's return journey !! Fortunately, I spotted the statue at Liberation Square and made my exit at the next stop. Coincidentally this was about 50 metres from my hotel ! Result.



Jersey has around 2000 hours of sunshine per year and is home to less than 100,000 people although numbers are heavily swollen by tourists. Luckily for me, today was using up around 15 of those 2000 hours as the sun was beating down with some venom. There was quite a breeze blowing across the Island reducing the temperature in the exposed areas but also making it very pleasant and not at all oppressive. As I had already found my hotel, but as usual it was too early to check in, I went to explore.

I always gravitate towards the marina and this was no exception. I soon found myself looking out at the myriad of yachts tied up alongside the pontoons, although those outside of the marina wall were lying forlorn on the mudflats due to the outgoing tide. Jersey has one of the largest tidal movements on earth, rising and falling by an average of 40ft each day which increases the Islands landmass by a third at low tide. Along the marina walls a Blues music festival was taking place on one side and, on the opposite side, there was a Saturday market. Both were very well attended. At the Saturday market, the stalls appeared to be largely populated by French sellers who were offering for sale a large collection of foodstuffs, including sweets, bread, pastries, fresh fruit, vegetables, meat & crepes giving the market a decidedly French feel. The language was very much "Franglais" as people were openly conversing in both languages, often switching mid sentence and french questions were often met with English answers and vice versa. For the most part I could understand it all which I was quite pleased about.

I bought the largest hotdog outside of the USA when I purchased a truly enormous sausage - cooked on a huge barbecue - in half a baguette. The hot dog must have been 12" in length but with a good dollop of tommy sauce, which it has to be said can only be described as having ejaculated itself from the bottle, was truly delicious. I wandered around for an hour or so soaking in the atmosphere. As I'm a cheap skate I had taken the opportunity to acquire a couple of free bottles of beer from the lounge at Liverpool airport and it was here that I thought that I would open one. So surrounded by stalls selling beer and wine to the massed throng of festival and market go-ers, I enjoyed a pleasant free drink in the sunshine.



I eventually pulled myself away from the crowds and went into St Helier itself. As it was a Saturday the main shopping areas were naturally busy. The shops were the usual mix of high street chains and local independent boutiques. What I like about the shops in the Channel Islands is their size is much smaller than you get in the cities of the mainland and as such they seem to complement the town, rather than dominate it. Once away from the main shopping precincts, the crowds immediately disappeared and the area took on a french feel once again. Shuttered buildings, cobbled streets and numerous attractive squares with street side cafes and bars. All over St Helier there was a decidedly holiday atmosphere.



Eventually I found myself leaving the central area of St Helier and approaching a large inviting area of green space called Howard Davis Park. According to the small plaque screwed to the wall, Howard Davis was killed in the First World War and the land, owned by his father, was donated to the Island in his memory. The park was fantastic and probably the best park I had been in since I visited Cornwall Park in Auckland New Zealand back in 2006. The park was very nicely maintained, with lots of blooming flowerbeds, neatly clipped grass, and an abundance of trees. At one end, there was a small, neat chapel and beautiful cemetery containing little crosses marking the last resting place of several soldiers killed on the Island during the 2nd World War.





I spent a couple of hours in the park, just taking it easy and watching the people go by, and all under a brilliant blue sky. Eventually, I realised that it was after 4pm and decided that I best check into the hotel as that's always an exciting part of any trip. Will it be any good ? Will it have a balcony ? Will it have a decent selection of TV channels ?? I wasn't disappointed.... well, apart from not having a balcony !



I was booked into the Royal Yacht Hotel right across from Liberation Square (and shown above) and it was very impressive and not especially expensive. The room was very nice, had a wall mounted wide screen TV, a sumptuous bed & a mini bar. The hotel itself had a gym, pool, several bars and restaurants and generally felt classy and exclusive. I highly recommend it should you be looking for a St Helier hotel.

After a couple of hours of doing nothing in particular, I headed out, once again, into St Helier for a meal and another wander. Many of the people who had populated the town centre earlier had given way to the party set. The bars & restaurants were beginning to fill. I stayed out until quite late, well after dark and eventually retired to bed and to my huge TV !

The following morning was breezier than the day before and the sunshine was largely hidden behind heavy cloud cover. I had breakfast in my room, showered and generally had a lazy morning before checking out of the hotel. I went shopping. Eventually the time came for me to leave the Island and head for the airport for my flight home.

As I seem to say regularly in these posts, a fantastic weekend was had and yet I barely saw anything of the Island really. I must, like Paris, make this an annual trip but maybe next time, I'll try and go for longer so that I've time to explore further afield. I love the Channel Islands and I think if you went too, so would you. If you've already visited, you'll know what I mean and if you haven't, then you really must try to go there. It's not quite French, yet it's not quite British. It's the best of both World's. Just make sure you don't take your penknife or, if you do, ensure you've got £4 for the postage !

Things that made me smile this week

Ever been followed by a police car for so long that you started doubting you own innocence ??

Until the next time.....

Camping, Rabbits and Warships

I've never previously been woken by gunfire. Not even when several of us had spent the night at the Range keepers cottage on the Ash Rifle Range close to Sandhurst, during my Naval days. It had been 5:55 AM on a Saturday morning and I was asleep in a tent, which to the best of my knowledge was not bullet proof as it would surely have said so on the bag - and someone very close by was shooting live bullets. The sudden gunshot startled me from my slumber .....but I was probably not as startled as the doe eyed and presumably, now ex-rabbit the gunman was aiming at.

I had driven down the previous evening to the Hawthorn Farm campsite at Martin Mill on the outskirts of Dover in Kent where I had arranged to meet my younger Bro, Sis in Law and the rinky dinks. The rinky's were asleep when I finally rolled up in semi darkness, following a rather long and occasionally tedious five and a half hour trip from the North West. The tent was quickly pitched, illuminated by car headlights and after a meal and a catch up we all retired to our respective tents.

The campsite was lovely and very peaceful, apart from the gunfire obviously ! The camping fields were flat, lush and luckily not too busy. The facilities were well maintained and were within easy reach from our location. There was an extremely large population of rabbits and these were clearly very used to living alongside people as they came very close to the various tents to claim the lushest of grass. This with hindsight, was probably an error on their part, given the gunshots we were to hear the following morning, however maybe not suprising given that rabbits are generally thicker than a Japanese' tourists photo album !


Following our rude awakening the following morning, we rose, lit a fire, prepared breakfast, showered and eventually headed off to the hugely impressive Dover Castle and the infamous secret underground wartime tunnels.

One of the largest castles in the country, and surely one of the best preserved, it is strategically located at the shortest crossing point to the continent. Dover Castle has played a prominent part in our nations history which can be traced back to the Iron Age. A Roman Lighthouse and an Anglo-Saxon church can still be seen within the castle walls and both are visible in the lower of the 2 photo's below.


William (The Conqueror) of Normandy strengthened existing Anglo-Saxon fortifications in 1066, but it was Henry II who really developed the castle when he had the fortifications rebuilt in the 1180's. This development added a huge keep & a series of concentric defences. As the centuries passed, the defences were continually enlarged and improved. The castle maintained a military role until well into the mid twentieth century. Beneath the castle are a series of huge underground tunnels which were kept secret until fairly recently. These tunnels were used extensively by the Armed Forces during the Second World War and under the Command of Admiral Ramsay, became the command post for the planning of the Dunkirk evacuation.

The tunnels were excellent and were far larger than I had imagined. We were guided through the various rooms which included a military hospital, telephone exchange, and numerous other areas which were used by all of the Services as part of the war effort.

The Castle was also very interesting to visit, despite a howling wind. The Castle was beautifully maintained, as you can see in the pictures and it was difficult to believe that it has stood for something approaching 1000 years !

The following day we decided to visit the Impressive Victorian, South Foreland Lighthouse on the Cliffs between Dover and St Margarets. It was built in the 1840's to warn ships approaching the nearby Goodwin Sands and was finally taken out of service in 1988 whereupon it was bought by the National Trust. South Foreland has the distinction of being the first lighthouse in the World to use an electric light. The lighthouse was also used by Guglielmo Marconi during his work on radio waves.

Originally there was another lighthouse further down towards the cliff which was built to be used in conjunction with South Foreland in order to give a bearing as to a safe route to take across the sands. However, the Sands shifted over the following years until this bearing became dangerously inaccurate and so the lower light was taken out of service in 1910.

The sands themselves are infamous and the water is so shallow across them that, each year at low tide, a game of cricket takes place on the sands themselves. As you would expect the sands have claimed a huge number of shipwrecks over the years and each one had been meticulously mapped. The numbers of ships lost was truly astonishing.

The lighthouse is not accessible by car so we had to park in St Margarets and then navigate the remaining mile or so, by way of SatNav, using the paths and bridle ways that criss cross the cliffs. Sat Nav is a tremendous invention as I've mentioned previously. The ability to navigate your way by road using it, then to remove the device from the car, switch it to walking routes, and then be navigated along a wooded and overgrown path to the destination makes it truly one of the greatest inventions ever !

I'd never visited a lighthouse before although I had always fancied living and working in one. As people who know me will confirm, I'm more than happy in my own company so the thought of spending 6 months a year in a circular house with nothing but myself to keep me company doesn't phase me at all. Unfortunately for me, Trinity House automated all of it's lighthouses during the 80's & 90's and the final manned lighthouse, coincidentally a stone's throw up the coast at North Foreland, closed its doors in 1998.

Once again the wind was blowing quite hard but then again, we were standing on the Dover White Cliffs 300 feet above the English Channel. The lighthouse was wonderful, a breathtaking pure white stone in colour, a Union flag waving enthusiastically on its flagpole alongside. The lighthouse itself was quite small on the inside and had that distinctive smell of warm oil as you entered through the low door. The lighthouse was full of visitors and the logistics of getting everybody up and down the tight, spiral staircases without meeting people coming in the opposite direction, seemed quite a feat. Our guide recounted the lighthouses history and showed us the weight mechanism that turned the optical lens cage upstairs. The light itself - a considerably larger version of the light bulbs you have in your houses - doesn't move, as it is the lens that surrounds it that spins, flashing 3 lights every 20 seconds. In the maritime World, every lighthouse within 100 nautical miles has a unique identifier. So you may have a single flash on one lighthouse and a 3 flash light on another and maybe a 2 short flash and 2 long flash on a third.

Eventually we ended up in the lighthouse chamber itself and thereafter onto the terrace at the very top of the building. The view was wonderful despite the visibility not being very good and the wind seemed to be blowing even harder in this lofty position. Apparently, the bulb on this lighthouse is the highest above sea level, of any lighthouse in the UK. This is mainly due to it's location perched on top of the 300 foot cliffs.

We finally came down and headed back to the car along the path, stopping off for tea & scones at a fantastic tea shop as we approached St Margarets. As we left the property, wiping crumbs from our faces, we bid each other our farewells and headed home. Great weekend.... well maybe not if you're a rabbit !

The previous weekend, I had visited the Royal Navy's flagship, the Invincible Class Aircraft Carrier, Ark Royal. The Ark was in Liverpool for the weekend where it was taking part in some official duties but was also open for public viewing. I decided to go and take a look as Ark Royal has always been my favourite ship. The ship was berthed at the brand new Cruise Ship facility at The Pier Head and was hugely popular as she had not visited the city previously in her 23 year history. Unfortunately this trip coincided with the Liverpool Lord Mayors Parade and this meant that the traffic was horrendous and also that the ships visitor numbers were probably dramatically inflated. This may well have been a bonus for the Navy but it did mean that thousands of us were unable to board as the queue was closed for new joiners several hours earlier than planned. I queued for 2 1/2 hours and was still turned away ! The ship was impressive, although I had seen her several times before in Portsmouth. I did notice however that she was showing signs of rust, most of which had been cosmetically painted to hide the brown staining. On my way back to the car park, I was gutted to discover that my camera battery had died. This was because, as I walked along the water front, I spotted a car sailing past me on the Mersey ! Not a sight I had ever witnessed before. Clearly this was some sort of amphibious car, complete with wheels and number plates being driven down the river by a ruddy faced man with an especially fat neck ! I wish I had a photo for you but alas I'll have to leave it to your imagine.

So we started with gunfire, we ended with warships and had fortified castles and 2nd World War operations in the middle, making this one of my more violent blogs. Next time I post It'll be a little more gentile as I'm off to the formerly Nazi occupied Island of Jersey ! So nothing very violent to report there !

Things that made me smile this week:-

My Colleague Dave, passed wind and then explained "It's better to have an empty house than a rogue tenant "

And on that note ......