Once again I geared myself up to commence some sort of exercise regime and the latest target was to cycle for at least an hour at a reasonably high intensity. I donned my special lycra padded shorts, my luminescent top and, perhaps more importantly, my not too often used heart rate GPS watch. I always feel like I am strapping on a bra when I put the sensor round my chest. I then wait for the tell tale beep that it has been recognised by the watch. I had got my Ipod out of the car earlier on and loaded up some 'cycling' songs. Some of these songs are quite pacy, others are not really suitable but I like them, Insomnia by Faithless being one example and The Race by Yello another.
The bicycle is a purpose built hybrid bike complete with not so trendy shopping panniers. I pump the tyres up to a good hard pressure, which does not quite seem adequate when I mount it. I should wear my helmet but my route does not take me along too many roads so I just put on my Gran Canaria cap, there is a story in itself behind that but it is much too off putting to write it in a blog. I make sure that I have paid a visit to the toilet before departure, there is nothing quite so annoying and uncomfortable as getting caught short whilst on the move.
Opening the garage door, as though preparing to launch Thunderbird 4, I may as well be playing the tune as well. I don't of course that would be a bit too much... I also have the pregnant pause of waiting for the GPS to register on my heart rate monitor before I begin. The GPS records, distance, time, elevation, speed, heart rate and calories burnt. It is really a bit of a motivation tool to help me compare my performance with future trips. Once the satellites have been picked up I have the odd timing event of starting the music and the timer to make sure I don't lose any time, not that it makes a vast amount of difference.
The weather had been rather wet and it was still coming down a bit every now and again, but not so heavy. I turned right out of our street and then left towards the bank. This first kilometre or so is all road/cycle path and, as this is Belgium, I have a status on the road akin to the Man of Steel (Superman, in terms of invincibility), cars, lorries, buses and any other motorised machine on the road trembles at my sight and had best not get in the way! To fellow (more serious) cyclists I am Mr Magoo and I need to keep my wits about me as I fight the herds of lycra clad wilder beast that stampede their way along the paths and roads.
The aim of the exercise is to keep going, burn calories and get fitter and so as my journey continues I make my way to the riverside path, this entails passing under the railway line and then running parallel for a while before I get to the River Demer, there is a decent cycle path that runs alongside and for some considerable distance. There are several interruptions to the path in the form of bridges and, when I have run the same route I have only ever got to the third bridge before crossing and returning. That run is approximately 10kms. This time however my aim to was to get to the fourth bridge, which was some considerable distance further along, almost level with Rotselaar. The distances get progressively further between the bridges with the first two fairly close together. I have to cross the road to get past the first and this is still in Aarschot, near the industrial estate. The second I can sweep beneath the bridge and it is one of the two fleeting climbs on an otherwise flat route.
The real work starts as I get on towards the third bridge. Mentally, both for the run and the cycling, this is an aiming point, a marker. I am constantly thinking of my muscles and how I will cope, whether I am going too fast, if I will get a cramp or, for comedy value, trying to concentrate on the unlikely event that I would fly off either side of the bank and end up swimming or in the trees and bushes on the other side. It is a sharp drop on either side and with the disdain that other cyclists show you, there is the possibility that you could be pushed off the path in some Last of the Summer Wine moment. My field of view is quite narrow as I focus on the hazards immediately ahead of the bike, it is not a leisurely ramble through the countryside, I have no time to view the sights as I go by.
It was whilst keeping my head down that I first noted the suicidal slugs and snails. The wet conditions had clearly given them the opportunity, perhaps more so than they could otherwise take, to cross from the non-river side of the path to the river side of the path, but with it came the hazard of cyclists and remember, they stop for no one and would not hesitate to hurl their fellow cyclists into the nettles. I on the other hand was swerving in a vain and fruitless attempt to allow them just a few more moments of life. As I came close I was oohing and aahing as I narrowly flashed by their antennae with the force of a high speed train, comparatively speaking of course. To be honest they may as well have been doing pyramids in front of me and been lining up end on end. Eventually I just did my best but no doubt some ended up a little bit flatter and wider than they had started. The birds were enjoying the mashed slugs and snails and at least they could get out of the way in time!
By the time I had made it to the third bridge my bottom was getting a bit sore and I started going numb in the tips of my fingers, which then turned to pins and needles when I tried to exercise them (in my fingers not my bum)! I had the sure knowledge that the fourth bridge was some distance off and in fact was the longest stretch. This time, not caring for the lifespan of the gastropod molluscs, I buttoned down to reaching the final marker before crossing and turning for home. After what seemed like ages, the Bailey bridge came into view. This bridge was laid down, presumably by British forces in World War Two at Rotselaar and has stood the test of time since. There are a number of such bridges in the country and the website at the last link is a bit of a spotter's guide.
Having crossed the river I now doubled back along essentially a dirt track. It is a good track with only one or two muddy puddles, but narrow due to the grass growing in the middle of two shallow furrows made by cars. Psychologically this was now easier as I was homeward bound, but the conditions were a bit more difficult due to the lack of smooth surface. By now my legs were getting tired but both the music and my recent reading of an exercise book gave me the motivation to keep going. I have recently read The First 20 Minutes - The surprising science of how we can Exercise Better, Train Smarter and Live Longer, I thoroughly recommend it to you.
As I got closer, there were more suicidal slugs and snails and even less room to avoid them, I had waypoints that signified that the ride was almost over. Passing each bridge on the return, going under the railway line, passing the school and the Knoet, getting to the bank and then finally drawing up to the house and quickly stopping the timer. Time to get my breath back, return Thunderbird 4 to it's 'hangar' and disrobe (not in the street I should add). I checked the watch and it indicated 1700 calories burnt over 22kms and the time of 1hr 2 mins. The last run I did I came in at 57 mins, so I am already improving. I will need to extend the distance as the good book tells me that to do endurance training you need to keep it up for more than an hour. The trick now is to keep the activity going and not let life or work get in the way of it! My last run was done after coming home from work before eating, it takes a bit of self discipline to do that.
Saturday, 16 August 2014
Thursday, 14 August 2014
Wednesday, 23 July 2014
A Moment of Reflection
I was just thinking, a dangerous pastime if ever there was one. I was reflecting upon the microcosm that is my life, along with the trials and challenges that I face. No matter how trivial something may be, if you do not look beyond the boundaries of your own life then you cannot put it into perspective and learn to accept the situation for what it really is.
I have faced a rather stressful time at work recently, family challenges, the prospect of finding a whole new career in 6 months and a host of other bits and pieces. I have laid plans, as far as I can. I have taken account of what may or may not happen so that I can avoid threats and take advantage of opportunities.
We had a rather lovely family birthday party this weekend, with a small dark cloud which cast an unfortunate shadow on the event, but still we braced ourselves against the weather and made the best of it. Some of us laughed so hard, it has been such a long time since I have seen such laughter. I got mixed up between David & Goliath and Samson and Delilah when I asked if my wife could cut my hair. In my version David was clearly a hairdresser and Delilah was chucking stones at Samson... We played a fun game where we had to choose a cartoon character and the others had to guess who it was, this turned out surprisingly well and is a good game for a multi-lingual party!
Putting it into perspective and bursting free from that bubble for a moment. I think of the Malaysian Airline that has been shot down and the 298 people who have lost their lives. More so I think of the people of Ukraine, both sides, who have also suffered and lost their lives. The pain that spreads across the world from the loss of that one aircraft, people who were, in all likelihood, going to have a birthday party this weekend and laugh as hard as we did as they played games and said silly things. But they won't now. I suppose the other advantage is that they will not have any more trials to face, except that is for their loved ones who are left to pick up the pieces and are reflecting themselves upon the challenges they faced, how their plans have been shattered and how they regret that the last thing they could have said was 'I love you, you are so important to me and I want you to know'.
What I am trying to say I suppose is that I am eternally grateful for the things I have, for the people I know and for the time I have. I aim, in so far as possible, not to let myself get hung up on the challenges of life, but I am human and I will err from time to time. I have recently learnt that breathing deeply can help to calm the tension, it is something I have really known for a while, but I did not know the science behind it. It is handy because, quite frankly, you need to breathe and so it takes no real effort to do it! I choose to reflect during those periods and I am sure it helps.
A serious one for a change, but then life can be quite serious at times.
I have faced a rather stressful time at work recently, family challenges, the prospect of finding a whole new career in 6 months and a host of other bits and pieces. I have laid plans, as far as I can. I have taken account of what may or may not happen so that I can avoid threats and take advantage of opportunities.
We had a rather lovely family birthday party this weekend, with a small dark cloud which cast an unfortunate shadow on the event, but still we braced ourselves against the weather and made the best of it. Some of us laughed so hard, it has been such a long time since I have seen such laughter. I got mixed up between David & Goliath and Samson and Delilah when I asked if my wife could cut my hair. In my version David was clearly a hairdresser and Delilah was chucking stones at Samson... We played a fun game where we had to choose a cartoon character and the others had to guess who it was, this turned out surprisingly well and is a good game for a multi-lingual party!
Putting it into perspective and bursting free from that bubble for a moment. I think of the Malaysian Airline that has been shot down and the 298 people who have lost their lives. More so I think of the people of Ukraine, both sides, who have also suffered and lost their lives. The pain that spreads across the world from the loss of that one aircraft, people who were, in all likelihood, going to have a birthday party this weekend and laugh as hard as we did as they played games and said silly things. But they won't now. I suppose the other advantage is that they will not have any more trials to face, except that is for their loved ones who are left to pick up the pieces and are reflecting themselves upon the challenges they faced, how their plans have been shattered and how they regret that the last thing they could have said was 'I love you, you are so important to me and I want you to know'.
What I am trying to say I suppose is that I am eternally grateful for the things I have, for the people I know and for the time I have. I aim, in so far as possible, not to let myself get hung up on the challenges of life, but I am human and I will err from time to time. I have recently learnt that breathing deeply can help to calm the tension, it is something I have really known for a while, but I did not know the science behind it. It is handy because, quite frankly, you need to breathe and so it takes no real effort to do it! I choose to reflect during those periods and I am sure it helps.
A serious one for a change, but then life can be quite serious at times.
Thursday, 26 June 2014
Circuits!
As I find myself struggling for breath and straining to push just one more repetition out I fleetingly wonder why I allow myself to be put through this torture week after week. For the most part all I have in my head is the determination to physically muster the strength to keep going and the knowledge that the trial can only last for an hour at most.
The subject to which I am referring is mandatory physical training (PT) that is held every Tuesday morning between 08.30 - 09.30. The session is led by a fully qualified and trained gorilla who is fully versed on how to drive the last vestiges of energy from your body and to ensure that muscles , which only ever get called upon in such sessions, are strained to the point of exhaustion and take upwards of a week to recover. The Geneva convention prevents the signatories from inflicting such treatment upon captives. It is almost like we are prisoners with the psychological gun against our head, and we endure it too. Mutinies have begun over lesser pain and grief. Am I overdoing it? Well there is always a bit of exaggeration but I am being deadly serious when I say that on most occasions I cannot physically lift a cup of tea to my lips, so tired are my arms.
Normally the session begins with the dread of not knowing which particular gorilla is running the session, we more commonly call the gorilla Clubs, in reference to Club Swinger. The Royal Navy PT branch has two crossed clubs as it's emblem, presumably from days when they used to do displays and before we moved to more technically advanced items of equipment such as the kettle bell (a cannon ball with a handle)! Other popular names are 'tit swinger' and 'muscle bosun', for obvious reasons. Some gorillas are more preferable than others but they are all experts at inflicting discomfort, only some do so in a polite if deceptively cunning way. Usually Clubs has set out the gym with their instruments of torture and this generates disquiet among the victims whilst we wonder what we will be asked (told) to do and how long it will last. Sometimes the equipment causes intrigue and sometimes we are completely wrong in anticipating the pleasure that will follow. For some it is obvious, I mean what else can you do with a large tractor tyre other than roll it end on end?
There are in essence two types of circuit, the first is one where there is a set time for each exercise and the other is where there is a given number of repetitions that must be achieved. I prefer the former as that means I can go all out and it does not matter how fit or unfit you are you can get maximum benefit from the workout. If you have a set number the fit people are finished well before the not so fit and the not so fit do not get a chance to recover before moving on to the next element of the torture.
The circuits start off and end with a warm up, which is almost a pleasurable experience. The gorilla offers motivational encouragement which is unintelligible to most but has somehow been indoctrinated into those of us who have endured this over the years. Before we engage in the main activity we are briefed as to the number of exercises, repetitions, time frames, whether we are acting alone or in pairs, how many times through the entire circuit, whether we have any injuries or missing limbs and finally if we have any last wishes (questions). Once ready the music is turned on and you usually begin and change exercise to the whistle blow of the tormentor. During the circuit the evil one is heard to berate the victims as a whole, but, in this world where bullying is frowned upon, rarely does the individual get a good blast. We hang on his every whistle blow as we fight our way through the circuit, more than most probably think he has forgotten the time or is in a bad mood as he prolongs the pain. I think for the most part this is all in our heads but then club swingers are not known for their mathematical genius or ability to read. In my case a pool of sweat often develops around the area where my head comes into contact with the mat or indeed the area over which my sagging head hangs over the mat. Some people do cruise but if this comes to the attention of the tormentor, then they just add to the agony as they let the time run or think up an impromptu additional exercise that seems 'fun'.
The circuits usually finish with a decent warm down and stretching exercise, which I am sure helps but still does little to prevent the cramps and stiffness over the following days. Maybe it is just me getting old? Apart from the health benefits, about which I am somewhat skeptical, the greatest benefit is that it takes you out of the office and away from the pressures of the job if only for an hour. Once you are engaged in PT, the priorities shift to very simple physical endurance and survival instincts and you share a common enemy for a while, which gives the team a sense of purpose and belonging. In the military you face lots of trials and experiences together, which separate you out from others and generates an understanding and sense of ritual.
I value the concept but I hate circuits!
Monday, 23 June 2014
London - 6 - 9 Jun 14
We had planned a trip to London now for, well a good few months at least, we were going with An's cousin, Eric and his wife, Isabelle. The trip really began with the planning phase where Eric, who is a bit of food connoisseur, examined a range of restaurants and pubs where he suggested would be good to visit. It was, as usual, going to be a feat of endurance as we squeezed as much as possible from the four days we were there.
Day 1 - 6 June 14
As if somehow connected to the D-Day landings 70 years ago, the alarm clock went off at the ridiculous time 04.45, which gave us 40 minutes to get ready, load the car and get across to Eric and Isabelle's place. The reason for such a start time was to avoid the rush hour traffic of a Friday morning and get to London with at least half a day to make use of. If you leave our house at any later than 06.30 then you will hit traffic and we would have to drive through the busiest stretch past the airport. The Eurotunnel was booked for an 08.20 departure so it would be tight. The drive was uneventful and we made it to the Eurotunnel check-in in good time. However, we had not accounted for French border checks, which were unusually stringent this particular morning. There were only two check points open both for the French and the UK and these would have been enough had they been processing the travellers at their normal pace. we ended up driving straight onto the train and were one of only 8 cars embarked.
On the other side we were also lucky and did not get held up at all, although I did decide to stop for coffee not long after we got across. An recommended a MacDonald's coffee, which I was surprised at but then I did not know any better. Apparently she had tasted a fine MacDonald's coffee in Germany and thought, quite reasonably, that the same would be available in the UK. It was awful apparently and Eric was also unimpressed with it! I had an Egg McMuffin meal, breakfast in a bap!
We got to the Premier Inn hotel in Ealing and had a rather bizarre encounter with the lady behind reception. We arrived maybe around 10.00, which was way too early to check in. The receptionist told me that I could check in early for a cost of £25, I have never come across anything like this before, so I declined. She then said that this 'fee' was in fact a contribution to a charity they were collecting for, even stranger I thought. Anyway we did arrange a sort of check in which did not attract a strange charity fee and I paid the bill, including the parking, accommodation and half of the breakfasts (she had misheard me and not charged me for Eric and Isabelle). I was relieved that we were able to leave the car parked up in the secure hotel car park, I had a fear that we would not be allowed in until 14.00, not good! We departed the hotel for our first foray into the city.
First stop was acquiring the Oyster cards for the trip. If you go to London then this is the best way to make sure that you do not pay too much for your travel on the Underground and buses. You buy a card leaving a £5 deposit and then you top the card up and pay as you go. In short it will cap the costs as the cheaper of the actual trips made or the cost of a travel card for the day. The only thing you must do is ensure that you properly scan in and out of each station otherwise you will pay the full standard price. I give it a good rub against the sensor and wait for the beep before going through.
I was burdened by my camera, complete with excessive heavy equipment, which I would come to regret. Our target was Camden Town Market followed by the British Museum. I had set out in my own mind to visit two particular places at Camden Town and as for the rest I was happy to go with the flow. You can spend so much time going around the shops and markets that less than a day seems insufficient to take it all in. There is the usual range of clothing and shoe shops, but there are also specialist shops that have Gothic and punk clothing and paraphernalia. There is art of varying types and also there is a range of food outlets with a huge variety or world foods that you can sample and enjoy. Here is a handy link that gives you a better description: Camden Town Market.
My aim was to buy a pair of Dr Martin's boots and although I did not have a particular kind in mind I was determined to get a pair. As you leave the Camden Town Underground station you turn left and come to The British Boot Company, it is easy to miss and is maybe 30 metres from the station entrance. The shop is small but has some interesting designs. The staff will give you the background to DM boots and the heritage of the company and brand. There are boots that have been signed by bands, notably Madness, but there are others. The pair I got were of a light brown swede ankle length type. I consulted with my specialist fashion advisor to make sure they were right for me, An approved! It was a typically male purchase, efficient, quick and to the point. They were selected, fitted and purchased maybe in under 5 minutes. With this additional burden to carry for the rest of the day, we left to head towards the main market.
I must warn you, and I am being utterly serious for a moment, the link I am about to share contains somewhat disturbing material. Be prepared for a shock and genuinely I feel it is not suitable for children. I do not normally take such a strong view of art but this is one I feel I must express. In one of the markets there is an American artist called Jeff Michalik. Jeff is responsible for what I can best describe as the shocking and thought provoking art he brands under Killer Bunny. His website is KillerBunny.co.uk. So having had a quick look at the site, you can see what I mean.
I decided to buy a bit of his work, now, this raises a number of questions. You can take a view on the artist, the buyer and of course the art itself. What does his art say about him? Well, if you stand by his stall for any length of time you will hear the comments from passers by about the mental state of the artist. Then you turn to the buyer, who in their right mind would buy something like this? Is it something dark within or is it a curiosity? Is it a message that I want someone to see? I can tell you this that I am apprehensive about displaying the artwork I have bought and I have no intention of gifting it to anyone. My view is that it is radically different and thought provoking and this is coming from someone who is not quick to appreciate the finer points of art. People often have a morbid fascination with gruesome things and maybe there is a bit of this involved here. Anyway, after a further peruse it was time for food!!!!
There is a wide range of foods available and it is worth having a sweep past all of the stalls and not just diving into the first one you see. Incidentally, Eric brought my attention to Churros, which is a deep fried batter based sweet. We both got a portion during one of our many rest periods during the wander around Camden. However, I digress, we settled for some food in the hot afternoon sun. I had a duck wrap with some sangria, An had a Mediterranean vegetable salad and some water, Eric and Isabelle ended up with another exotic dish, whose name escapes me and they also had a glass of cava too.
I was trying to take pictures on the move and I was messing about with a range of settings and light conditions but here is a sample from Camden:
From Camden we decided to head off, by foot, to the British Museum. This was not a wise idea due to the heat and distance involved but we set out regardless. During this walk I acquired my blisters, which was to make the rest of the visit a tad uncomfortable to say the least. I thought I had chosen sensible shoes and socks but clearly not! I think it was the poor socks that did it but I was not sure and now it was too late.
When we arrived at the British Museum it was very busy and we were both hot and thirsty. The Museum is definitely worth a visit but I could not help but think of whether or not some of its treasures should be back in the countries from which they have been removed. What is impressive is the covered courtyard. Again you need a fair bit of time to do the place justice. I took a few photos in the museum, the first of which was the Totem pole was in the covered courtyard.
Once we had finished up there the plan was to get back and freshen up at the hotel, in my case it would involve airing and nursing my feet too! We were staying approximately 600 metres from Ealing Broadway Underground station and the plan was to eat at Wagamama and then go to a wine bar called Crispin's. Wagamama is a chain of Japanese restaurants, of which there is one in Antwerp. The food is of a high standard, although the main utensils for eating are chopsticks, which require a certain level of dexterity.
We ended the evening in Crispin's and after having established which wines on the menu were not available we made our selection. By the way we also bought some Adobe, having tried some at my Brother-in-law's place and found it to be quite nice. Sadly the version in Crispin's was not so pleasant. Still it was a nice way to round off our first, long, day.
Day 2 - 7 Jun 14
Day 2 started with breakfast, this was when we noticed that we had not been charged for 4, but just 2. I tried to bring this to the attention of the staff but they were busy with the large influx of teenage One Direction fans milling about in their pyjamas and other inappropriate clothing. We had been told the day before that the hotel had stopped serving continental breakfasts but that the all inclusive price had gone up! When we got there we found that what we had been told was what can be technically referred to as bollocks. There was the full range of cooked and continental that we had had before. You could eat as much as you liked for £8.75, realistically I don't think you can eat that much so I am not sure it is value for money. Mind you with London prices it probably is. Breakfast was not a peaceful and pleasurable experience due to the volume of other customers and their desire to let everyone else know they were there.
As best we could, we planned our day. Not long after, we set out.
We struck out for the far side of London towards Brick Lane. We took the tube through from Ealing Broadway to Liverpool Street station and then walked towards Brick Lane. There was a route marked out on a tour map, which was supposed to take us past some points of interest. In essence for my feet it was another feat (forgive the pun) of endurance. My blisters would end up with blisters as I walked like I had a small Christmas tree inserted into my bottom, just far enough that it would not quite dislodge itself. The rest of the group were not fully aware of my discomfort. Our first real stop was Spitalfields market, where Isabelle bought a man bag for Eric, for his birthday and An and I had a cup of tea. Spitalfields is a covered market that has some interesting, mainly fashion type stalls and it is not so well known for its food. This was not really a planned stop as we moved on towards Brick Lane.
As we progressed to Brick Lane we came across an 'event', in essence a group of home owners had opened up five of their gardens to the public for a small fee. Perhaps what was more interesting is that the houses dated from around the 1750s and therefore their interiors were of more interest than their gardens in some cases. Both An and Eric are keen gardeners and thus we had a look around. I can best describe them as peaceful and very well designed. Considering the location and the limited space, they are places I could easily relax in and read a book. There was also plenty of shade too. One particular feature was a mirror that someone had placed into a wall, it looked like another garden as the mirror was the size of a door and crystal clear. It was very effective and I only stopped when I noticed my reflection. Again this was unplanned but then the interior of the houses was also very interesting. The buildings are grade II listed, which means the owners require special permission to make changes. A lot of effort is also put into keeping the exteriors authentic, even with the application of special paints. My feet were complaining and the Christmas tree was more than irritating...
Onwards to Brick Lane! We found it and started to walk the length of it. The last time An and I were here we missed the Old Truman Brewery, despite the large sign and buildings. Perhaps it was the distraction of trying to find shoe shops the last time? An and Isabelle were doing their best not to go into every fashion boutique, although it was tough. In the Old Truman Brewery there is the Old Boiler House, which has a range of stalls that sell what I can best describe as world foods. It is a bit of a treat to the pallet to be able to try some of these things, but we decided to wait until lunchtime before eating. I was genuinely not hungry so I could wait. It is worth a visit though. Getting back onto Brick Lane we started to carry on walking the route with the aim of eventually getting to the White Cube Gallery in Mason's Yard, sadly it was closed by the time we got there. Anyway I am ahead of myself! Before then we came across The Blues Kitchen where we decided to have lunch. I was a bit cautious about having lunch here as we were due to go to the Red Fort restaurant later on and I was not sure if we could cope with the volume of food! The Blues kitchen, apart from having nice food and probably nice music, if you hit it at the right time, also has interesting décor. The restaurant has a theme that can be best described as auto mobile in nature. The waiting staff are very friendly and the service is good. An was impressed with the quality of the fries/chips and the rest of the food was also very good.
When we had finished and were suitably refreshed there was an idea to go to a pub, but by this stage we needed to get to the Box Park, which was on our list and then start to head back towards the hotel. The idea was to refresh ourselves ready for the evening, but this would add at least an hour to the timings, to go to a pub was therefore inviting disaster...
In the end we didn't, we just got on with the forced march and found the Box Park. In essence the box park is lots of boutique type shops that are comprised of shipping containers that have been put together and fitted out. You are kind of limited in size but then it does make use of these containers. One particular shop stood out,Tusch Und Egon. I particularly liked their fire extinguishers, which you can see directly at the link. I also bought a small rubber Clown Fish, so I could do some Finding Nemo photographs such as these:
Time was pressing and so we could not spend too long looking around here, the trek continued (the pine needles were beginning to sting a bit).
We managed to get back in good time and I contacted my mate Sam to see if he could make it into Ealing to meet up. Sam would make a great Belgian as his timekeeping is loose to say the least. We managed to get to Ealing by about 17.35 with the aim of starting the inbound trip to Soho at around 19.00. After a quick squoosh and change of clothing we headed to a place called Bill's just along the road from the hotel. Sam made it just in time for a quick drink and a brief chat, this was fortuitous as he had a few recommendations on where to go and what to do. We took notes and consulted the map. We left a little after 19.00, fashionably late. I have to add that I was the acting guide for the trip and I brought along the ultra modern and technologically advanced A-Z of London, which used to belong to my Grandad I think. I was forever checking and double checking where we were.
It was not a bad ride in but the place was heaving and it was starting to look lively. We managed to get there pretty much on time for our 20.00 reservation. The Red Fort is a pleasant typical Indian restaurant, apart from the excessively priced drinks menu, which is par for the course. We chose (I was swept along) to go for the set menu. We were presented with a range of dishes and starters which we worked our way through. There was a degree of choice on the set menu but all said it was a great variety and the quality was also very good. The biggest shock, and this went for all of the main restaurants that we visited, was the standard 12% service charge. I did stress that we did not have to pay the service charge but what we thought was a suitable tip. When you are spending upwards of £270 per meal for the four of us the service charge ends up costing almost as much as a meal in a 'normal' restaurant. Even Eric thought that this was a bit too much. We did the full Monty and I noted that at the end they did not have the hot towels to clean your hands and face, not so posh after all...
Just to make sure that my feet were not overly rested and the tree fully bedded in, we proceeded to try and find a Blues Bar to get some live music. This entailed going from Soho to Carnaby Street, just a short trot. We did find the bar and indeed another interesting place on the way, Kingly Court, this is somewhere we could have wiled away the hours and was lively. In the end we did not go into the Blues Bar as there was a queue and we did not fancy hanging around until late. We reluctantly headed back to the hotel for a drink there. We made it back and settled down for a pint in the bar. There was a football game on the TV which I think was warm up match with England playing. I forget who the opposition was, not that it matters. Once again it was a late finish and at last I could remove the tree and tend my feet.
Day 3 - 8 Jun 14
The hotel staff finally realised we had not paid for the additional breakfasts and so we paid for those. I think that although her badge indicates that she speaks English, this must be pretty basic, hence the confusion over continental breakfasts not being provided, it is easier to say no that to commit to saying yes and having to go back on it later!
The third day was meant to be a trip to the Victoria and Albert and Natural History Museums, but, having discussed the options with Sam, we elected to go to Portobello Road Market. How can I best describe this place? Well it is a row of shops, but quite a long row and there are some interesting antique and art shops, I use these terms loosely. The first one we came across contained lots of metal signs as an example there was one, which I did consider buying, that said "Parking for Jaguars Only" or words to that effect. An thought that the neighbours would not appreciate that. There were a range of other signs. There was a shop entirely dedicated to fittings for doors and cabinets. If you want something special for your set of drawers then this was the place to get them. We stopped at an antiques shop and bought a brass aeroplane for the father-in-law. it was a decent price and he even gave a slight discount. The shop was full of interesting articles including aircraft propellers, telescopes, old leather suitcases and trunks, pictures, brass fittings and, well, too much to list here. Further on there was a good photo/art shop, it was good inspiration if you are a photographer. Many of the images looked like they were taken down the street. Oh we also passed a house where George Orwell used to live too. The houses themselves make for an attractive setting to the market, you can feel the wealth in the area.
One of the treats was The Humming Bird Bakery. We bought some rather nice cup cakes and a couple of drinks. We did intend to have them there and then but Eric had patrolled ahead and we needed to catch up. This market was more difficult for An and Isabelle to get through without some serious browsing. Towards the end of the market we came across The Spice Shop, which you could smell before you could see. Once you entered it was almost an orchestra of senses for the nose, it is worth it just to walk in and spend a minute of or two taking in the aromas. Of course An and Eric took the opportunity to stock up on some of the rarer spices. I also spotted a branch of Whittards and took the chance to show Eric and Isabelle the coffee they sell (despite being a tea shop). The staff were extremely helpful and even made up a sample of Oolong tea, which I had never tasted before. I asked the assistant what her favourite tea was and if we could try some. Oolong smells very creamy and it is just slightly bitter, not as strong as regular tea and you drink it without adding milk. I had made a discovery and I was very pleased too. Eric had also discovered a new type of coffee, I forget the name, but he was chuffed.
It was time to get on and so we caught the tube on the way in to Oxford Circus, the next stop was going to be afternoon tea at Fortnum and Mason's. Opulent, that is the best description I can give to Fortnum and Mason. The staff are very friendly and when we turned up for tea they made the effort to squeeze us in and we are grateful that they did. The staff all wear traditional uniforms and are very knowledgeable about the product. If you have any questions that they cannot answer then they find someone who can help. You have a choice of menus with sweet and savoury items, we elected to go for the set menu, which comprised of finger sandwiches of salmon, coronation chicken, beef, cucumber and egg (I think). We also had scones with jam and clotted cream and then the most exquisite and rich cakes you could imagine. It really was an experience and it did not end there. We were offered more sandwiches, cakes and scones and if we wanted, cakes from the trolley. I opted to have a piece of Battenberg, but was struggling to find the room. We did not have a second round, we just didn't need to. It was also interesting to observe the other customers and the staff, it is another world that we had a short glimpse of. The cost of the menu was between £40-45 each, worth it though. The store itself is also a place to behold and is worth visiting. We ended up buying some additional tea, in our case Russian Caravan, so named because that is how it was transported to the Tsars of Russia.
There now came a trek to the next destination, Harrods. It was a long walk down past Green Park towards Hyde Park. We took this route to look at some artwork that artists display by the side of the road. We had greater expectations of this so either that day was a bad day to see it or there is not a great deal to be seen there. It was the right weather for a beer in the park though.
I have to say I have mixed feelings about Harrods, it struck me as being a bit bling and the staff seemed disinterested and lacking in knowledge, almost shallow. The store is of course full of luxury but I felt that the character of the décor and staff reflected the owner, not unreasonable I suppose. The highlight, and it was a highlight, is the Halcyon gallery. I am not an art guru or can I express a passion for it either, but I saw pieces here that I would genuinely buy, the problem is, of course, that I do not have the money for such things. To give an example the least expensive piece was about £21,000 and the most expensive, that I saw, was £410,000. They were nice, very nice, but I probably would not have the right sort of place to put them!
We again made the trip back to the hotel to freshen up before heading out for Rules, which is the oldest restaurant in London. We were pushing the limits in terms of time to get there, but we made it okay. We booked a table on-line for 20.00 and again the décor and atmosphere was something special. The food was very traditional, especially the desserts. I had the steamed steak and kidney pudding, An and Eric had the Lamb chops and Isabelle had fish. The starters were equally as good, Eric and I had duck, Isabelle had herring and An had oysters. We shared a dessert and I recommended Summer Fruit Pudding and I shared a Lemon Polenta, both were very nice. We were stuffed and I would also recommend that you check out the toilets too, they are worth a look. There are pictures and items of interest surrounding you, including stained glass windows.
After Rules we decided we definitely needed to go to a pub, so we headed to Covent Garden and the Punch and Judy. Now either I had seen this in better days or someone had just had a pub fight and devastated the place. It was a bit of a mess and in hindsight I would not go back. We left after 1 drink and elected to go to The Harp, a recommended pub. We got there and they helpfully told us they had stopped serving. Homeward bound then. There was the option of taking in a bar on the way back but I think we were all seriously flagging by then so the hotel seemed the best bet.
Day 4 - 9 Jun 14
This was always going to be a tough day for me, as the driver I would not get much rest. The aim of the game today was to get to the Tate Modern, have a quick look around and then skidaddle back to Belgium. I wanted to be on the road by about 15.00 and so I was keen to push along. The trip in was not too bad but we did have to cross the Thames over the Millennium bridge. Cue the first unusual obstacle. We selected a route which took us towards the riverbank, the problem was it was not suitable in any sense for pedestrians and in fact it was part of a dual carriageway. There was nowhere to cross, but that did not stop us. We were not alone, there were several other sheep with us, bloody tourists. We crossed the dangerous road and came to a low wall, well it was low on our side but a bit of a drop on the other side, it was like being part of a well, if inappropriately dressed, gang of kids. Isabelle did well to maintain her dignity as she sort of got over and down off the wall. I did try and guide them to a more manageable section but they just fancied the challenge and the prospect of a visit to casualty.
Once we had done our assault course and yes my feet were still hurting, we crossed the bridge and made it to the Tate. Now, most will know that I am not really a fan of art unless it is truly stunning and meaningful. An and I split off from Eric and Isabelle as we worked our way through the gallery. An and I started at the top and I think Eric and Isa started from the bottom. There were shedloads of kids around and some were quite young, a bit noisy but then that's kids for you. I was perusing the fine pieces of junk on the top floor when I noticed some grills in the floor, I spent some time carefully studying them and wondering what the artist was thinking of when it dawned on me that these were ventilation grills! Funnily enough I saw a few more of them. To be brutally honest, how on earth can you tell? There was a 'sculpture' which consisted of two flat plates of steel balanced one on top of the other to form a T, that was it, rusting, dangerous scrap metal. There was another piece that was just a mirror, you, the viewer were the art! I mean what? How on earth does that qualify as anything? Did he or she (I could not be bothered to check) just get up in the morning, look in the mirror before farting and think ah haaaaaaaaaa!
I did come across many other pieces of worthless art including a set of three ventilation trunks, people have been paid for this and received awards. I have to say that I was not inspired at all, but then I am hard to please when it comes to art. We chose not to visit the Matisse exhibition. I did try and expand my horizons and I will continue to make the sacrifice of visiting in a bid to become a little more cultured in my outlook. The highlight of the visit for me was waving to some kids on the first floor, I always remember it being nice when people waved back when I was a kid.
We set off for what was to be the last trek, thankfully it was not too long. We were aiming to find a pub called the Gladstone, which featured in the guide books. Here we had pies and it was relatively cheap compared to where we had eaten during the week. I had a moo pie (beef) and An and Isa had a Heidi pie (goats cheese). Eric I think choose venison pie but I cannot remember. We all had mushy peas, if only to see the look of disgust on An's face. It is a real spit and sawdust pub, which was pretty basic and full of character. Apparently they have live music and the staff were very friendly. I recommend a visit, it is easy to miss though as it is slightly off the beaten track.
Time to make our way back to the car. We had been allowed to leave the car at the hotel and so it was a trip back over to Ealing Broadway to get on our way. Incidentally, we had bough the Oyster cards and we ran out of money on them, this was in part due to not swiping in and out correctly. we had to get the cards corrected. If you use these you really do need to make sure that the barriers record you entering and leaving. An incomplete journey results in the maximum charge, not good. You can check the history of the card and see where you have been.
Anyway, home! We got to the tunnel in good time but could not catch an earlier train, the net effect was that we were held up and entertaining ourselves in the terminal building for a while. We scoffed the Humming Bird cup cakes, which were divine. When we did get across and started out for home it was a fairly routine drive, except that at one point all of my passengers were asleep! We eventually made it back to Aarschot for around midnight and An and I did not get to sleep until about 01.00. I elected to drive into work at 07.00, knowing full well the traffic delays likely. They met all of my expectations and I took 2 hours to get into work.
I did go and see the nurse about my feet after I noticed a particularly foul smelling puss oozing from my blister. I was a bit worried about infection but she said it was fine.
That was our trip to London.
Day 1 - 6 June 14
As if somehow connected to the D-Day landings 70 years ago, the alarm clock went off at the ridiculous time 04.45, which gave us 40 minutes to get ready, load the car and get across to Eric and Isabelle's place. The reason for such a start time was to avoid the rush hour traffic of a Friday morning and get to London with at least half a day to make use of. If you leave our house at any later than 06.30 then you will hit traffic and we would have to drive through the busiest stretch past the airport. The Eurotunnel was booked for an 08.20 departure so it would be tight. The drive was uneventful and we made it to the Eurotunnel check-in in good time. However, we had not accounted for French border checks, which were unusually stringent this particular morning. There were only two check points open both for the French and the UK and these would have been enough had they been processing the travellers at their normal pace. we ended up driving straight onto the train and were one of only 8 cars embarked.
On the other side we were also lucky and did not get held up at all, although I did decide to stop for coffee not long after we got across. An recommended a MacDonald's coffee, which I was surprised at but then I did not know any better. Apparently she had tasted a fine MacDonald's coffee in Germany and thought, quite reasonably, that the same would be available in the UK. It was awful apparently and Eric was also unimpressed with it! I had an Egg McMuffin meal, breakfast in a bap!
We got to the Premier Inn hotel in Ealing and had a rather bizarre encounter with the lady behind reception. We arrived maybe around 10.00, which was way too early to check in. The receptionist told me that I could check in early for a cost of £25, I have never come across anything like this before, so I declined. She then said that this 'fee' was in fact a contribution to a charity they were collecting for, even stranger I thought. Anyway we did arrange a sort of check in which did not attract a strange charity fee and I paid the bill, including the parking, accommodation and half of the breakfasts (she had misheard me and not charged me for Eric and Isabelle). I was relieved that we were able to leave the car parked up in the secure hotel car park, I had a fear that we would not be allowed in until 14.00, not good! We departed the hotel for our first foray into the city.
First stop was acquiring the Oyster cards for the trip. If you go to London then this is the best way to make sure that you do not pay too much for your travel on the Underground and buses. You buy a card leaving a £5 deposit and then you top the card up and pay as you go. In short it will cap the costs as the cheaper of the actual trips made or the cost of a travel card for the day. The only thing you must do is ensure that you properly scan in and out of each station otherwise you will pay the full standard price. I give it a good rub against the sensor and wait for the beep before going through.
I was burdened by my camera, complete with excessive heavy equipment, which I would come to regret. Our target was Camden Town Market followed by the British Museum. I had set out in my own mind to visit two particular places at Camden Town and as for the rest I was happy to go with the flow. You can spend so much time going around the shops and markets that less than a day seems insufficient to take it all in. There is the usual range of clothing and shoe shops, but there are also specialist shops that have Gothic and punk clothing and paraphernalia. There is art of varying types and also there is a range of food outlets with a huge variety or world foods that you can sample and enjoy. Here is a handy link that gives you a better description: Camden Town Market.
My aim was to buy a pair of Dr Martin's boots and although I did not have a particular kind in mind I was determined to get a pair. As you leave the Camden Town Underground station you turn left and come to The British Boot Company, it is easy to miss and is maybe 30 metres from the station entrance. The shop is small but has some interesting designs. The staff will give you the background to DM boots and the heritage of the company and brand. There are boots that have been signed by bands, notably Madness, but there are others. The pair I got were of a light brown swede ankle length type. I consulted with my specialist fashion advisor to make sure they were right for me, An approved! It was a typically male purchase, efficient, quick and to the point. They were selected, fitted and purchased maybe in under 5 minutes. With this additional burden to carry for the rest of the day, we left to head towards the main market.
I must warn you, and I am being utterly serious for a moment, the link I am about to share contains somewhat disturbing material. Be prepared for a shock and genuinely I feel it is not suitable for children. I do not normally take such a strong view of art but this is one I feel I must express. In one of the markets there is an American artist called Jeff Michalik. Jeff is responsible for what I can best describe as the shocking and thought provoking art he brands under Killer Bunny. His website is KillerBunny.co.uk. So having had a quick look at the site, you can see what I mean.
I decided to buy a bit of his work, now, this raises a number of questions. You can take a view on the artist, the buyer and of course the art itself. What does his art say about him? Well, if you stand by his stall for any length of time you will hear the comments from passers by about the mental state of the artist. Then you turn to the buyer, who in their right mind would buy something like this? Is it something dark within or is it a curiosity? Is it a message that I want someone to see? I can tell you this that I am apprehensive about displaying the artwork I have bought and I have no intention of gifting it to anyone. My view is that it is radically different and thought provoking and this is coming from someone who is not quick to appreciate the finer points of art. People often have a morbid fascination with gruesome things and maybe there is a bit of this involved here. Anyway, after a further peruse it was time for food!!!!
There is a wide range of foods available and it is worth having a sweep past all of the stalls and not just diving into the first one you see. Incidentally, Eric brought my attention to Churros, which is a deep fried batter based sweet. We both got a portion during one of our many rest periods during the wander around Camden. However, I digress, we settled for some food in the hot afternoon sun. I had a duck wrap with some sangria, An had a Mediterranean vegetable salad and some water, Eric and Isabelle ended up with another exotic dish, whose name escapes me and they also had a glass of cava too.
I was trying to take pictures on the move and I was messing about with a range of settings and light conditions but here is a sample from Camden:
From Camden we decided to head off, by foot, to the British Museum. This was not a wise idea due to the heat and distance involved but we set out regardless. During this walk I acquired my blisters, which was to make the rest of the visit a tad uncomfortable to say the least. I thought I had chosen sensible shoes and socks but clearly not! I think it was the poor socks that did it but I was not sure and now it was too late.
When we arrived at the British Museum it was very busy and we were both hot and thirsty. The Museum is definitely worth a visit but I could not help but think of whether or not some of its treasures should be back in the countries from which they have been removed. What is impressive is the covered courtyard. Again you need a fair bit of time to do the place justice. I took a few photos in the museum, the first of which was the Totem pole was in the covered courtyard.
Once we had finished up there the plan was to get back and freshen up at the hotel, in my case it would involve airing and nursing my feet too! We were staying approximately 600 metres from Ealing Broadway Underground station and the plan was to eat at Wagamama and then go to a wine bar called Crispin's. Wagamama is a chain of Japanese restaurants, of which there is one in Antwerp. The food is of a high standard, although the main utensils for eating are chopsticks, which require a certain level of dexterity.
We ended the evening in Crispin's and after having established which wines on the menu were not available we made our selection. By the way we also bought some Adobe, having tried some at my Brother-in-law's place and found it to be quite nice. Sadly the version in Crispin's was not so pleasant. Still it was a nice way to round off our first, long, day.
Day 2 - 7 Jun 14
Day 2 started with breakfast, this was when we noticed that we had not been charged for 4, but just 2. I tried to bring this to the attention of the staff but they were busy with the large influx of teenage One Direction fans milling about in their pyjamas and other inappropriate clothing. We had been told the day before that the hotel had stopped serving continental breakfasts but that the all inclusive price had gone up! When we got there we found that what we had been told was what can be technically referred to as bollocks. There was the full range of cooked and continental that we had had before. You could eat as much as you liked for £8.75, realistically I don't think you can eat that much so I am not sure it is value for money. Mind you with London prices it probably is. Breakfast was not a peaceful and pleasurable experience due to the volume of other customers and their desire to let everyone else know they were there.
As best we could, we planned our day. Not long after, we set out.
We struck out for the far side of London towards Brick Lane. We took the tube through from Ealing Broadway to Liverpool Street station and then walked towards Brick Lane. There was a route marked out on a tour map, which was supposed to take us past some points of interest. In essence for my feet it was another feat (forgive the pun) of endurance. My blisters would end up with blisters as I walked like I had a small Christmas tree inserted into my bottom, just far enough that it would not quite dislodge itself. The rest of the group were not fully aware of my discomfort. Our first real stop was Spitalfields market, where Isabelle bought a man bag for Eric, for his birthday and An and I had a cup of tea. Spitalfields is a covered market that has some interesting, mainly fashion type stalls and it is not so well known for its food. This was not really a planned stop as we moved on towards Brick Lane.
As we progressed to Brick Lane we came across an 'event', in essence a group of home owners had opened up five of their gardens to the public for a small fee. Perhaps what was more interesting is that the houses dated from around the 1750s and therefore their interiors were of more interest than their gardens in some cases. Both An and Eric are keen gardeners and thus we had a look around. I can best describe them as peaceful and very well designed. Considering the location and the limited space, they are places I could easily relax in and read a book. There was also plenty of shade too. One particular feature was a mirror that someone had placed into a wall, it looked like another garden as the mirror was the size of a door and crystal clear. It was very effective and I only stopped when I noticed my reflection. Again this was unplanned but then the interior of the houses was also very interesting. The buildings are grade II listed, which means the owners require special permission to make changes. A lot of effort is also put into keeping the exteriors authentic, even with the application of special paints. My feet were complaining and the Christmas tree was more than irritating...
Onwards to Brick Lane! We found it and started to walk the length of it. The last time An and I were here we missed the Old Truman Brewery, despite the large sign and buildings. Perhaps it was the distraction of trying to find shoe shops the last time? An and Isabelle were doing their best not to go into every fashion boutique, although it was tough. In the Old Truman Brewery there is the Old Boiler House, which has a range of stalls that sell what I can best describe as world foods. It is a bit of a treat to the pallet to be able to try some of these things, but we decided to wait until lunchtime before eating. I was genuinely not hungry so I could wait. It is worth a visit though. Getting back onto Brick Lane we started to carry on walking the route with the aim of eventually getting to the White Cube Gallery in Mason's Yard, sadly it was closed by the time we got there. Anyway I am ahead of myself! Before then we came across The Blues Kitchen where we decided to have lunch. I was a bit cautious about having lunch here as we were due to go to the Red Fort restaurant later on and I was not sure if we could cope with the volume of food! The Blues kitchen, apart from having nice food and probably nice music, if you hit it at the right time, also has interesting décor. The restaurant has a theme that can be best described as auto mobile in nature. The waiting staff are very friendly and the service is good. An was impressed with the quality of the fries/chips and the rest of the food was also very good.
When we had finished and were suitably refreshed there was an idea to go to a pub, but by this stage we needed to get to the Box Park, which was on our list and then start to head back towards the hotel. The idea was to refresh ourselves ready for the evening, but this would add at least an hour to the timings, to go to a pub was therefore inviting disaster...
In the end we didn't, we just got on with the forced march and found the Box Park. In essence the box park is lots of boutique type shops that are comprised of shipping containers that have been put together and fitted out. You are kind of limited in size but then it does make use of these containers. One particular shop stood out,Tusch Und Egon. I particularly liked their fire extinguishers, which you can see directly at the link. I also bought a small rubber Clown Fish, so I could do some Finding Nemo photographs such as these:
Time was pressing and so we could not spend too long looking around here, the trek continued (the pine needles were beginning to sting a bit).
We managed to get back in good time and I contacted my mate Sam to see if he could make it into Ealing to meet up. Sam would make a great Belgian as his timekeeping is loose to say the least. We managed to get to Ealing by about 17.35 with the aim of starting the inbound trip to Soho at around 19.00. After a quick squoosh and change of clothing we headed to a place called Bill's just along the road from the hotel. Sam made it just in time for a quick drink and a brief chat, this was fortuitous as he had a few recommendations on where to go and what to do. We took notes and consulted the map. We left a little after 19.00, fashionably late. I have to add that I was the acting guide for the trip and I brought along the ultra modern and technologically advanced A-Z of London, which used to belong to my Grandad I think. I was forever checking and double checking where we were.
It was not a bad ride in but the place was heaving and it was starting to look lively. We managed to get there pretty much on time for our 20.00 reservation. The Red Fort is a pleasant typical Indian restaurant, apart from the excessively priced drinks menu, which is par for the course. We chose (I was swept along) to go for the set menu. We were presented with a range of dishes and starters which we worked our way through. There was a degree of choice on the set menu but all said it was a great variety and the quality was also very good. The biggest shock, and this went for all of the main restaurants that we visited, was the standard 12% service charge. I did stress that we did not have to pay the service charge but what we thought was a suitable tip. When you are spending upwards of £270 per meal for the four of us the service charge ends up costing almost as much as a meal in a 'normal' restaurant. Even Eric thought that this was a bit too much. We did the full Monty and I noted that at the end they did not have the hot towels to clean your hands and face, not so posh after all...
Just to make sure that my feet were not overly rested and the tree fully bedded in, we proceeded to try and find a Blues Bar to get some live music. This entailed going from Soho to Carnaby Street, just a short trot. We did find the bar and indeed another interesting place on the way, Kingly Court, this is somewhere we could have wiled away the hours and was lively. In the end we did not go into the Blues Bar as there was a queue and we did not fancy hanging around until late. We reluctantly headed back to the hotel for a drink there. We made it back and settled down for a pint in the bar. There was a football game on the TV which I think was warm up match with England playing. I forget who the opposition was, not that it matters. Once again it was a late finish and at last I could remove the tree and tend my feet.
Day 3 - 8 Jun 14
The hotel staff finally realised we had not paid for the additional breakfasts and so we paid for those. I think that although her badge indicates that she speaks English, this must be pretty basic, hence the confusion over continental breakfasts not being provided, it is easier to say no that to commit to saying yes and having to go back on it later!
The third day was meant to be a trip to the Victoria and Albert and Natural History Museums, but, having discussed the options with Sam, we elected to go to Portobello Road Market. How can I best describe this place? Well it is a row of shops, but quite a long row and there are some interesting antique and art shops, I use these terms loosely. The first one we came across contained lots of metal signs as an example there was one, which I did consider buying, that said "Parking for Jaguars Only" or words to that effect. An thought that the neighbours would not appreciate that. There were a range of other signs. There was a shop entirely dedicated to fittings for doors and cabinets. If you want something special for your set of drawers then this was the place to get them. We stopped at an antiques shop and bought a brass aeroplane for the father-in-law. it was a decent price and he even gave a slight discount. The shop was full of interesting articles including aircraft propellers, telescopes, old leather suitcases and trunks, pictures, brass fittings and, well, too much to list here. Further on there was a good photo/art shop, it was good inspiration if you are a photographer. Many of the images looked like they were taken down the street. Oh we also passed a house where George Orwell used to live too. The houses themselves make for an attractive setting to the market, you can feel the wealth in the area.
One of the treats was The Humming Bird Bakery. We bought some rather nice cup cakes and a couple of drinks. We did intend to have them there and then but Eric had patrolled ahead and we needed to catch up. This market was more difficult for An and Isabelle to get through without some serious browsing. Towards the end of the market we came across The Spice Shop, which you could smell before you could see. Once you entered it was almost an orchestra of senses for the nose, it is worth it just to walk in and spend a minute of or two taking in the aromas. Of course An and Eric took the opportunity to stock up on some of the rarer spices. I also spotted a branch of Whittards and took the chance to show Eric and Isabelle the coffee they sell (despite being a tea shop). The staff were extremely helpful and even made up a sample of Oolong tea, which I had never tasted before. I asked the assistant what her favourite tea was and if we could try some. Oolong smells very creamy and it is just slightly bitter, not as strong as regular tea and you drink it without adding milk. I had made a discovery and I was very pleased too. Eric had also discovered a new type of coffee, I forget the name, but he was chuffed.
It was time to get on and so we caught the tube on the way in to Oxford Circus, the next stop was going to be afternoon tea at Fortnum and Mason's. Opulent, that is the best description I can give to Fortnum and Mason. The staff are very friendly and when we turned up for tea they made the effort to squeeze us in and we are grateful that they did. The staff all wear traditional uniforms and are very knowledgeable about the product. If you have any questions that they cannot answer then they find someone who can help. You have a choice of menus with sweet and savoury items, we elected to go for the set menu, which comprised of finger sandwiches of salmon, coronation chicken, beef, cucumber and egg (I think). We also had scones with jam and clotted cream and then the most exquisite and rich cakes you could imagine. It really was an experience and it did not end there. We were offered more sandwiches, cakes and scones and if we wanted, cakes from the trolley. I opted to have a piece of Battenberg, but was struggling to find the room. We did not have a second round, we just didn't need to. It was also interesting to observe the other customers and the staff, it is another world that we had a short glimpse of. The cost of the menu was between £40-45 each, worth it though. The store itself is also a place to behold and is worth visiting. We ended up buying some additional tea, in our case Russian Caravan, so named because that is how it was transported to the Tsars of Russia.
There now came a trek to the next destination, Harrods. It was a long walk down past Green Park towards Hyde Park. We took this route to look at some artwork that artists display by the side of the road. We had greater expectations of this so either that day was a bad day to see it or there is not a great deal to be seen there. It was the right weather for a beer in the park though.
I have to say I have mixed feelings about Harrods, it struck me as being a bit bling and the staff seemed disinterested and lacking in knowledge, almost shallow. The store is of course full of luxury but I felt that the character of the décor and staff reflected the owner, not unreasonable I suppose. The highlight, and it was a highlight, is the Halcyon gallery. I am not an art guru or can I express a passion for it either, but I saw pieces here that I would genuinely buy, the problem is, of course, that I do not have the money for such things. To give an example the least expensive piece was about £21,000 and the most expensive, that I saw, was £410,000. They were nice, very nice, but I probably would not have the right sort of place to put them!
We again made the trip back to the hotel to freshen up before heading out for Rules, which is the oldest restaurant in London. We were pushing the limits in terms of time to get there, but we made it okay. We booked a table on-line for 20.00 and again the décor and atmosphere was something special. The food was very traditional, especially the desserts. I had the steamed steak and kidney pudding, An and Eric had the Lamb chops and Isabelle had fish. The starters were equally as good, Eric and I had duck, Isabelle had herring and An had oysters. We shared a dessert and I recommended Summer Fruit Pudding and I shared a Lemon Polenta, both were very nice. We were stuffed and I would also recommend that you check out the toilets too, they are worth a look. There are pictures and items of interest surrounding you, including stained glass windows.
After Rules we decided we definitely needed to go to a pub, so we headed to Covent Garden and the Punch and Judy. Now either I had seen this in better days or someone had just had a pub fight and devastated the place. It was a bit of a mess and in hindsight I would not go back. We left after 1 drink and elected to go to The Harp, a recommended pub. We got there and they helpfully told us they had stopped serving. Homeward bound then. There was the option of taking in a bar on the way back but I think we were all seriously flagging by then so the hotel seemed the best bet.
Day 4 - 9 Jun 14
This was always going to be a tough day for me, as the driver I would not get much rest. The aim of the game today was to get to the Tate Modern, have a quick look around and then skidaddle back to Belgium. I wanted to be on the road by about 15.00 and so I was keen to push along. The trip in was not too bad but we did have to cross the Thames over the Millennium bridge. Cue the first unusual obstacle. We selected a route which took us towards the riverbank, the problem was it was not suitable in any sense for pedestrians and in fact it was part of a dual carriageway. There was nowhere to cross, but that did not stop us. We were not alone, there were several other sheep with us, bloody tourists. We crossed the dangerous road and came to a low wall, well it was low on our side but a bit of a drop on the other side, it was like being part of a well, if inappropriately dressed, gang of kids. Isabelle did well to maintain her dignity as she sort of got over and down off the wall. I did try and guide them to a more manageable section but they just fancied the challenge and the prospect of a visit to casualty.
Once we had done our assault course and yes my feet were still hurting, we crossed the bridge and made it to the Tate. Now, most will know that I am not really a fan of art unless it is truly stunning and meaningful. An and I split off from Eric and Isabelle as we worked our way through the gallery. An and I started at the top and I think Eric and Isa started from the bottom. There were shedloads of kids around and some were quite young, a bit noisy but then that's kids for you. I was perusing the fine pieces of junk on the top floor when I noticed some grills in the floor, I spent some time carefully studying them and wondering what the artist was thinking of when it dawned on me that these were ventilation grills! Funnily enough I saw a few more of them. To be brutally honest, how on earth can you tell? There was a 'sculpture' which consisted of two flat plates of steel balanced one on top of the other to form a T, that was it, rusting, dangerous scrap metal. There was another piece that was just a mirror, you, the viewer were the art! I mean what? How on earth does that qualify as anything? Did he or she (I could not be bothered to check) just get up in the morning, look in the mirror before farting and think ah haaaaaaaaaa!
I did come across many other pieces of worthless art including a set of three ventilation trunks, people have been paid for this and received awards. I have to say that I was not inspired at all, but then I am hard to please when it comes to art. We chose not to visit the Matisse exhibition. I did try and expand my horizons and I will continue to make the sacrifice of visiting in a bid to become a little more cultured in my outlook. The highlight of the visit for me was waving to some kids on the first floor, I always remember it being nice when people waved back when I was a kid.
We set off for what was to be the last trek, thankfully it was not too long. We were aiming to find a pub called the Gladstone, which featured in the guide books. Here we had pies and it was relatively cheap compared to where we had eaten during the week. I had a moo pie (beef) and An and Isa had a Heidi pie (goats cheese). Eric I think choose venison pie but I cannot remember. We all had mushy peas, if only to see the look of disgust on An's face. It is a real spit and sawdust pub, which was pretty basic and full of character. Apparently they have live music and the staff were very friendly. I recommend a visit, it is easy to miss though as it is slightly off the beaten track.
Time to make our way back to the car. We had been allowed to leave the car at the hotel and so it was a trip back over to Ealing Broadway to get on our way. Incidentally, we had bough the Oyster cards and we ran out of money on them, this was in part due to not swiping in and out correctly. we had to get the cards corrected. If you use these you really do need to make sure that the barriers record you entering and leaving. An incomplete journey results in the maximum charge, not good. You can check the history of the card and see where you have been.
Anyway, home! We got to the tunnel in good time but could not catch an earlier train, the net effect was that we were held up and entertaining ourselves in the terminal building for a while. We scoffed the Humming Bird cup cakes, which were divine. When we did get across and started out for home it was a fairly routine drive, except that at one point all of my passengers were asleep! We eventually made it back to Aarschot for around midnight and An and I did not get to sleep until about 01.00. I elected to drive into work at 07.00, knowing full well the traffic delays likely. They met all of my expectations and I took 2 hours to get into work.
I did go and see the nurse about my feet after I noticed a particularly foul smelling puss oozing from my blister. I was a bit worried about infection but she said it was fine.
That was our trip to London.
Friday, 13 June 2014
The Somme
One of the benefits about work is that you occasionally get to do something that is a bit different, in this case we visited the battlefield site at Thiepval in France, where part of the Somme offensive was fought in July 1916. We were taking part in a conference which had delegates coming in from around Europe to discuss the business and how we can go about improving things, part of this was a team away day, the reason we were visiting the battlefield site.
The trip involved a visit to the Memorial to the Missing, a giant brick structure that has the names of around 72,000 service personnel who are still missing. Sadly, on a regular basis, the remains of men from the First World War are found on the sites of the old battlefields and the memorial has to be adjusted, the names removed and a full ceremonial funeral held. During our visit we held a brief service and laid a wreath. It is easy when walking within the monument to find your own surname engraved in huge walls, the impact cannot truly be felt in my view.
Imagine if you will, a football stadium's worth of people missing or more than twice the current strength of the Royal Navy. It is hard to understand the impact, then you have to think that these were the husbands, boyfriends, brothers, sons and uncles of so many more people from across the world. I have not mentioned the women or other civilians that have paid the price but not out of disrespect for them, it is just that when at the monument you tend to focus on the Army, the mud and the trenches.
Imagine if you will, a football stadium's worth of people missing or more than twice the current strength of the Royal Navy. It is hard to understand the impact, then you have to think that these were the husbands, boyfriends, brothers, sons and uncles of so many more people from across the world. I have not mentioned the women or other civilians that have paid the price but not out of disrespect for them, it is just that when at the monument you tend to focus on the Army, the mud and the trenches.
Although the monument is very impressive you can find such structures all along what was the Westen Front at the time. The Canadian monument at Vimy Ridge is also a sight to behold, as is the Menin Gate at Ypres. If I could encourage people to do one thing in their lives it would be to pay a visit to memorials such as these, I include former concentration camps as well, even though that is from a different period. It is so very important to understand and remember what the human race has endured and to try not to make the same mistakes again.
Returning to our visit, three of our team were told to produce a brief on subjects relevant to our visit. They were: what were the lessons/improvements in tactics, what is the importance of discipline and how has the casualty reporting changed from what it was then to what it is now? All of these are relevant, there are a lot of preconceived ideas about the First World War and what a slaughter it was. I have to be honest I am not well read on the subject but I would encourage anyone who wants to find out more to question the stereotypes and seek out an alternative view.
In terms of lessons learnt a lot of this was concerning the quality and use of artillery, in the main it was the creeping barrage, whereby the soldiers advanced just behind the fall of artillery rounds. The idea was that the enemy does not have the time to come up from the deep bunkers and man their defences before the attacking forces are on top of them.
The importance of discipline is so obvious that it almost seems odd to question it. You need to rely and trust your team to do what is asked, part of that is having the discipline both self and imposed to keep order within the ranks. If you can imagine the breakdown of discipline, which did occur in other armies across the Eastern and Western front, then the ability to defend or attack simply fails leaving the rest of the front vulnerable. It is inevitable that you will get desertion, cowardice and mutiny within a force when they are put under such pressure, and I do not downplay the effects of shell shock or post traumatic stress disorder. Discipline and leadership are needed to manage the situation and maintain order. It is a hugely challenging leadership issue and it is too simplistically described above, suffice to say that it is still relevant today as it was then. As a modern example you need only look to HMS Nottingham and when she hit a rock off Australia, the ship should have sunk such was the damage. It did not because the crew, as a whole, had the discipline, trust and leadership to save the ship. If you look up on Google for HMS Nottingham, you will see the flooding. Just imagine an 18 year old diving into that, not knowing if the the ship will remain afloat or not, but they do it to effect a repair. You will have some idea of the courage required and the self discipline to do the job.
In terms of casualty reporting, it was and still is of paramount importance to inform the next of kin as soon as possible and before the media does this for you. The only difference now is that with the advent of things like Facebook and the desire of the media to report casualties, this is extremely challenging to achieve.
I return to our visit. After the visit to the Monument to the Missing we were taken up to Thiepval Woods where we were given a tour by an Irish gentleman who, I understand, was 78 years old. He was extremely knowledgeable about the area and the battlefield and he showed us some trench systems as he told us of events. You certainly had the impression of what it was like to be there, although it was difficult to orientate yourself on the landscape. The connection here was that the 36th Ulster division fought in the area and advanced to such an extent, comparatively speaking, that they created a salient, which is not great for defensive purposes.
Following the visit to the woods we then paid a visit to the Ulster Tower, which was erected to commemorate the contribution of the 36th Ulster division, it is this tower that I saw in murals in Belfast only the week before. The tower is a peaceful and impressive monument and one that I would recommend visiting. In fact I wish to return in order to spend a bit more time there.
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| The Ulster Tower |
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| Inside the Ulster Tower |
The guide mentioned a book, A Brass Hat in No Man's Land, that was written just after the end of the conflict by a Brigadier General Crozier. The book is interesting because he describes not only the patriotic side of the conflict but is also critical of some of the leaders found in the trenches and of the business leaders profiting from the war. He still believed that the war was both inevitable and just, but he had quite clear ideas on how it should be run. He also talks about the excessive drinking and prostitution that was prevalent in the rear areas. It is worth a read, if anything, to get an idea about the attitudes to the war and the experiences they had.
This blog has been written piecemeal so I apologize if it is a bit fragmented.
Saturday, 17 May 2014
Belfast
A friend of mine recently asked if I would like to attend a dinner in Belfast, the thought of attending raised two immediate prospects, firstly that security would be an issue and secondly that some of the people I was likely to meet would have some really quite interesting stories to tell.
I, like many others, viewed Northern Ireland through the media and in my case a handful of books that I had read on the troubles. I did not, and arguably still do not, understand why there is such a strength of feeling about whether or not Northern Ireland should unite with the Republic or remain in the Union. This is an interesting question given the impending Scottish vote on independence in September. It had not occurred to me that a 'yes' vote would have far reaching implications in Ulster, this was pointed out by my hosts when I visited last week. What was abundantly clear from my visit is that there remains a very strong feeling within both the Republican and Unionist camps.
This blog is not intended to examine the rights or wrongs of the troubles nor the extremely complex and diverse range of political and paramilitary dynamics of the situation. I think is is safe to say that most would like there to be a solution that satisfies all but it is difficult to see at what point in time that will genuinely be achieved. This blog is, in fact, just about my visit so that is to where I shall return.
What did Belfast mean to me? Well apart from the media, I have heard of the songs such as Boney M 's Belfast and Spandau Ballet's Through The Barricades and Katie Melua's Penguins and Cats. Some were just a bit too subtle for me to get and quite frankly, along with many other such inspired songs, I was really just enjoying the tune. I will view these slightly differently from now on, having been enriched by the experience of my visit.
Due to my work I was required to do a few checks before I visited the region, in short this was to confirm that it was safe for me to visit and also to be briefed on the areas of the region and Belfast that were dangerous and safe. In essence if you can imagine wearing a Sunderland football shirt in a crowd of Newcastle fans when their team has just been thrashed at a local derby match, it is not a wise place to be and like Belfast, there are affiliated pubs and clubs that you would do well to avoid. On a different scale imagine the Israeli/Arab division and you get the picture. I obtained permission to go, I therefore booked my flight.
In terms of personal security, the best form under such circumstances is to be inconspicuous and as such this involves being careful about what you wear, what you say and any other possible indications that could put you at risk. In my case I sanitised by wallet and carefully checked my clothing to make sure that there was nothing provocative. As for speech, well I cannot disguise my accent and I am not going to try some dodgy impersonation of a local, as amusing as that might be. No, the decision on what can or cannot be said depends upon the environment, if in doubt then avoid certain subjects. Despite the obvious interest and desire to explore the polictical situation, this is clearly an area that can get you into trouble. In any event I took my lead from my hosts.
When I arrived I was a little apprehensive and I viewed everyone around me with suspicion, irrational maybe? Well how would I know? I did end up chatting to a couple who sat next to me on the plane, they were quite pleasant but I was very aware of what I was saying and what they were asking of me. When I landed there was truly nothing remarkable about the airport and the collection of baggage. In fact they had a dog which was sniffing the bags as they came through. I am not sure whether it was weapons, drugs, explosives or some other illicit material that they were after but it was entertaining to watch them at work. I just hoped that my bag would not arouse any suspicion, there was of course nothing illegal in my bag...as far as I was aware.
My mate had flown over earlier and he was waiting with our hosts on the other side of arrivals. We started off by getting a short tour and I was doing my best to listen to the commentary and banter that was flying about. We dropped by on the Northern Ireland Parliament building at Stormont, it is quite impressive as can be seen from the photo.
I was particularly impressed by the wide tree lined boulevard and how open it felt. The pink ribbon around the lamp posts indicated the forthcoming cycling race that was due to be held. Our hosts graciously took us around the city and, after some debate this included seeing some of the murals for which the city is well known.
I was particularly impressed by the wide tree lined boulevard and how open it felt. The pink ribbon around the lamp posts indicated the forthcoming cycling race that was due to be held. Our hosts graciously took us around the city and, after some debate this included seeing some of the murals for which the city is well known.
Whilst being driven around I was offered the opportunity to take some photos I, initially being concerned that being seen taking photos might attract some unwanted attention, was told that the Loyalist areas were 'safe' but that we would not stop when transiting through the Republican areas. Helpfully enough you can tell the affiliation of each area as the Republican areas have Irish Tricolours and the Loyalist areas have Union Flags, this seems obvious really but to an outsider it is a novel sight. It must be a bit like LA gangs with their tags marking out the territory, it is quite helpful to the outsider. I took a number of photos as shown below but none of the Republican areas, in fact I was told to hide my camera in case we were being 'dicked', which is identified and targeted by Republican sympathisers.
A memorial to those who gave their lives during The Great War, this appears in a regular residential area, is in pristine condition and shows the Ulster Tower built on the site where the 36th Ulster Division participated in the battle of the Somme in July 1916. It was purely coincidental that I would visit this same tower in France the following week.
This is one of a series of murals on bungalows that run along this street, I did not note the name but I was told that it is on the border of a Republican/Loyalist area, renown for shootings. The mural marks the formation of the Ulster Defence Association, a loyalist paramilitary organisation that aims to protect the protestant community from Republican violence. There are a range of different groups on both sides and with varying degrees of extremism, most have signed up to the Peace Accord, but it remains fragile.
This is a memorial to the 36th Ulster Division raised to fight during the 1st World War. It is impressive not only in terms of what it is commemorating but also with the vibrant colours, quality of detail and the fact that it has not been defaced in any way.
This mural marks the evacuation of refugees trying to escape the violence in 1971, it also recognises the part that the city of Liverpool played in housing those who moved.
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There were equally impressive murals on the Republican side, although I did not have the opportunity to view them in as much detail. It is interesting that a new one was being painted of Gerry Adams, who had recently been arrested and was being held in connection with an investigation into the disappearance of Mrs Jean McConville. We drove past this as it was being painted. Gerry Adams was released later on without charge. It is possible to write an entire blog on the complexities of that arrest alone, the context, the moral and ethical aspects and the inevitable political aspects that cannot be separated from them. During our visit we anticipated a spot of bother and were cognisant of the implications.
I might add that the reason the murals were all so well presented and not defaced probably has a lot to do with the repercussions should anyone be stupid enough to attack them. If they value their knees and or testicles then they would do best to leave them alone.
Whilst driving about I remarked that it seems like any other street in the UK, to which my hosts responded 'apart from the Tricolour and Union flags, barricades, armoured Landrovers and police stations that are literally built like fortresses?' Although I felt a bit silly, the fact remains that if you are not looking for these things then you could easily forget about where you are and the dangers that are present. During the visit the ongoing protest about flying the Union flag at Belfast City Hall was in evidence as we were detoured away from the building and past about 40 white armoured Landrovers waiting to be called into action should the crowd become more volatile. I wished I had taken some photos of them, but we did not stop.
During the weekend there were three other highlights, the dinner, the visit to the Titanic Experience museum and the visit to a band competition.
The first of these was a dinner, which was pleasant. I cannot say too much about this other than that there were many interesting people there from all sorts of backgrounds and I did not have the opportunity to chat further about their experiences. I am always seeking to improve my understanding of history and things in general so I was keen to listen to them.
The visit to the Titanic Experience was something I would strongly recommend to anyone who is visiting the region. The museum is built at the head of the slipway upon which the Titanic was built. In fact one of the exhibits is a video of the ship being launched, which is projected onto a window and that in turn fades to show the actual view of the slipway outside. The museum covers a lot of the history of Belfast and it's prominence in the industrial revolution and at the turn of the 20th Century. You can learn not only about the ship itself but the people, the socio economic situation and the technical challenges of the day to construct such an impressive ship. An interesting moment was an exhibit that is effectively a three sided room with walls that are giant TV screens. On the screens is a projection of the interior of the Titanic, starting at the bottom of the ship and moving vertically through the decks until you get to the bridge of the ship. The only snag is that this projection does not just move vertically but it also rotates as well. It is not, therefore, a great experience for several men who are recovering from a heavy drinking session the night before, we did well not to throw up. The other very impressive exhibits were a movie, which showed the exploration of the wreck and a glass floor which you could then view the wreck as a video sweeping from aft to forward. Apparently there is a unique micro-organism that is eating the rust of the ship and therefore eventually it will disappear, save for a few odd bits. The environment is reclaiming the ship, which is helpful given the number of wrecks out there.
If you do get the chance to visit Belfast then check out the website here first and see if you fancy going to the museum The Titanic Experience.
The last experience I had was the opportunity to view around 30 marching bands, which were competing for prizes. Now normally this would not get a lot of people excited, especially given the stereotypical view held of such competitions, a bit geeky to say the least. Anyway, this is Northern Ireland so naturally things were different. What I was witness to could best be described as a military parade except that there were no platoons of sailors, soldiers and airmen following the bands. It was one band after another. It was extremely popular judging by the crowds and also a bit of a social event having seen the volume of alcohol being consumed. The bands had a colour party, wore very expensive and military style uniforms, had a bass drum and a contingent of other musicians. The ages ranged from children as young as 5 to adults, although none were beyond the age of maybe 35 or so, from what I noticed. The marching was very smart and would put some regular military platoons to shame, the bass drummer was a massive, usually bald headed, slightly overweight individual and they were banging this drum like it was going out of fashion. I noticed that it was not used to keep the parade in step, as they usually are and the reason for this, I was told, is that there are points to be scored for the loudest drummer in the parade. Whenever the bands came into close proximity (usually when marching in opposite directions) they would play even louder to try and outdo each other. The bands were deliberately spaced out (not with drugs I might add, although they were high on adrenaline) when marching in the same direction.
My hosts told me that it was not a political parade as there were no Orangemen in the parade and it was not associated with the other marches that take place. That said there is no doubt that the bands came from similar communities and were extremely proud of their heritage and some even had fake rifles. To an outsider, it was a demonstration of solidarity and an indoctrination of the youth into the beliefs and principles that the should live by. You would not find a similar event in the UK, although a comparison was drawn to the miner's bands that used to compete across the UK.
In terms of indoctrination, this can be a rather sensitive thing. In simple terms it is instilling a set of values into someone so that they grow and live to a set of standards. If I were to say that some believe that traditional family values are those that we should adopt then it can be argued that we indoctrinate our children to follow those values. I was certainly brought up to respect such values as a child and now as an adult. However, change that to the values and beliefs of the Nazi party and things do not seem quite so straightforward. I am not, I might stress, comparing the competition parades with either family or Nazi values. My point is that those values that are being instilled can be harmful as well as helpful. If such beliefs and values are being reinforced as strongly on the Republican side as they are on the Loyalist side then I feel it will still be some time before we can see a lasting peace. You could equally apply that to a range of conflicts and troubles across the globe and I am not professing to holding the key to solving these problems.
This blog has got rather serious in parts so I will move to my parting experience and an error of judgement on my part. As I was passing through security at the airport the lady behind the conveyor belt asked me to remove my jacket, to which I replied, 'it is a cardigan'. She still insisted that I remove it and asked if I was cold, I said that I just wore it for convenience instead of carrying it. To my utter surprise, I was stopped for a random search when I passed through the metal detector. I clearly linked the two together and thought it rather petty of her but I did not and would never create a fuss over such a thing. I endured a rather odd search, mainly of my hand baggage, where a different lady would pick up various items and give them the most cursory of glances before x-raying them. The only effect this had was to distract them from perhaps more pressing clients that required their attention, maybe I had inadvertently helped someone slip through the net? I have to admit I was relieved to be aboard the aeroplane with knees and testicles intact. It had been a pleasant and educating experience for me and I would definitely return if the opportunity arose, incidentally not for the purpose of being frisked at the airport!
My next post will be about the visit to the Somme battlefield, where the 36th Ulster Division fought.
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