where art collides

Just dropped the Defender off to be valeted at the hand car wash on Outer Circle Road, behind Tesco. Then strolled around the Carlton Centre running a few errands. Bit of a contradiction in terms there.

In Dunelm, whence I had been dispatched by THG to buy something for the kitchen, I noticed a couple, must have been in their sixties, who had gone there to buy two very specific things: a 20cm aluminium non-stick frying pan and a rug. She held the frying pan and he the rug. I wrote this down otherwise the moment would have been lost.

I realise that some may think these are not very important observations. We will have to agree to disagree. Everything is important.

I stopped for a coffee in a local emporium of such things and noticed an old man talking very loudly to the server. He sat outside with his walking stick and loudly apologised for his loudness telling her he was deaf. Later I could hear him at the till in Halfords as I walked past the open door of the store. He was Scottish. At first I heard the clacking of his stick and then he started to speak.

When you walk around places you notice a lot more than when driving. On the way home two white fuel tankers were just leaving the Tesco garage. Interesting that they drove around in pairs I thought.

Then a young woman strode purposefully past me on Wragby Road going in the opposite direction. She was walking quite quickly with her eyes mostly shut listening to music and puffing away on a vape. I wasn’t quite sure whether it was the effect of the vape that made her close her eyes or the emotional intensity of the music. Maybe both. It felt that her vaping was at odds with her healthy pace.

I’m picking the car up at 3pm. I shall be walking purposefully and may not stop to record any observations 🙂

Now back in the shed contemplating the day ahead. Apple has offered me a system upgrade for the Mac Mini. This I will accept but only when I’ve finished in the shed and get cracking with some of the day’s planned activities as the machine will be unusable for an unspecified amount of time.

Most activity will involve finishing packing for our trip but I do have some sealant to apply in the bathroom and shower room. A job I’ve been putting off for some time but feel that the 6 months SLA is getting close.

One task I do have to complete is to repack the tent. I didn’t do it properly after its last use as the poles were still wet. I like my tent. Every man should have a tent. Tents are not for sharing, after you pass a certain age. As a youth a three man tent would have held three people. Nowadays a three man tent is just the right size for me. I’ll have to see if the grass is dry this afternoon otherwise I’ll do it in the shed. There is space enough.

My goodness it is warm in the conservatory. I’ve opened the door and moved to the shaded side. Shouldn’t complain really. It’s been such a poor summer weatherwise. 

It is still early. A cup of tea is at my side and once I’m ready for the day and THG has departed for church I mean to roll my sleeves up and get some jobs done. The rolling up of the sleeve will only be metaphoric as I will undoubtedly be sporting a t- shirt of some description. Not sure which one yet as most of my faves are already packed in my big yellow duffel bag in readiness for our forthcoming trip. 

Ditto my Hawaiian shirts. All my Tommy Bahama collection except the Christmassy one plus the made to measure jobs modelled on TB. Hardly worn them this summer. I’m sure they will come in handy in France.

Our first stop is going to be Ireland however. Dublin and Donegal. Killybegs to be precise. If you’ve never been it is a wonderful place to visit.

So in the meantime the last three days in Lincoln are all about getting ready to go which, in THG’s mind means getting the jobs done. Fair enough 🙂It includes putting away most of the camping gear I brought back from the Eisteddfod. It’s been sat in the living room for two weeks pending me deciding what to take with me on the trip. 

The tent etc is going to be there for emergencies once TGH has flown home. “We” wont be staying in it which is fair enough. There comes a time when comfort and luxury takes precedence over the great outdoors and camping. I’ll still be in France for a couple of weeks with the lads once the sheilas have left and will be prepared for any eventuality.

It won’t be a totally work free trip. That’s the benefit, I suppose, of internet everywhere. I have a number of conf calls lined up. You might say “hey Tref you have to be able to switch off sometime”and you would be right were it not for the fact that this is going to be a seven week trip. The wheels of industry will still need oiling. 🙂

I’ll be taking a jumper to Ireland. Just in case. And a raincoat. We have to be realistic here. WIll hopefully not be needed. Much of the time will be spent getting wet on the inside anyway.

Gotta go. Passports to dig out…

…

Jobs done, and more, mostly. Still a bit of wire to attach to the side fence in the garden but precipitation has started.

‘Tis a damp Thursday in August. Veering towards the end of August. 24th. Parents will be starting to think about offloading their offspring back into the education system, some for the first time. Mixed emotions. A sigh of relief for most. Tense excitement for newbies.

Dampness is par for the course. I’m just glad I was able to get the shed sprayed yesterday. All is well in the jardin des Davies.

The roof of the shed is under continuous bombardment with acorns from the holm oak above. This will continue well into the autumn. Keeps the squirrel population going, unfortunately. I daresay squirrels serve a useful purpose in the food chain/ecosystem. The bombardment is more bemusing than a nuisance.

At eleven forty four I’m thinking of life, the universe and lunch. I also need to pop into town to go to the bank. Bit of a nuisance but sometimes it’s the only way to get some stuff done.

…

The dampness fled for friendlier parts. I am now sat in ‘t shed with doors wide open. Quite a bit of traffic noise, mitigated to some extent by some calming classical music toons emanating from my speakers. I sense it will soon be time to change the mood to upbeat.

Spent some time sorting out the rugby tickets for Nice. We will be there for a week, taking in Wales v Portugal and Italy v Uruguay together with immersion in some Cote d’Azur culture. Vin, pain et Picasso. That sort of thing.

The games we are seeing are scheduled at a very respectable five forty five pm. This means a leisurely lunch easing into the time we need to set off for the stadium. Not totes worked out the logistics yet but sure it will be fine. 

In an ideal world we would grab a cab back to the campsite but suspect that is a bit pie in the sky with tens of thousands of punters leaving the stadium at the same time. Probs want a few sherbs before heading back anyway.

Another glorious morning on the Isle. Not a cloud in the sky. All is calm. I am packed and will shortly venture out to the bookshop in Michael Street. Probs pick up some milk en route back an’ all. Swing by Fenella Beach one last time on this trip.

Breakfast was toast made with a fine Noa Bakehouse sourdough. Sourdough’s real purpose in life is toast. Slathered with butter and spread thickly with Bonne Maman orange marmalade. Cup of tea.

My bag has all the clothes I bought with me. Everything just fits nicely. Not everyone in the travelling party is in the same boat, so to speak. We are on the same steam packet this pm but THG made some purchayses during her stay that mean the zip on the already tightly packed duffel bag will no longer close. Well…

Everyone on the Isle of Man calls the ferry the boat and the ferry terminal is the sea terminal. Ordinarily we arrive an hour or so before sailing and sit in a queue of cars awaiting boarding. 

As foot passengers we will arrive at the terminal building quite early this afternoon for check in as we are meeting Richard and Wendy for a spot of lunch at Noa Bakehouse which you may know  is just over the road. Hopefully the good staff of iomspco will let us on earlyish as it will be far nicer to sit in the comfort of the Premium Lounge onboard than slumming it in the departure area. Free drinks etc.

…

Farewell Elan Vannin. We shall return. We leave you with the sea as smooth as the proverbial millpond and the sun shining benevolently upon the good people of Man.

The lounge is a little warm. The deck windswept but not cold. Not a safe place for a hat which was been removed for preservation.

Out on deck the English coast is clearly visible on the port side and similarly the mountains of Wales can be seen across the starboard bow. When I were a lad working the Manx Electric Railway you would often be able to clearly see Winscale Nucelar Power Station on the run between Laxey and Ramsey. They changed the name to Sellafield decades ago because of the poor safety reputation associated with Winscale. Still Winscale to me.

This holiday is being cut short. Lunch at the Boatyard on Thursday put off until another visit. Plan B is Noa Bakehouse before we get on the boat tomorrow pm.

Why Tref, why? I hear you say. Well if you take a look at the weather forecast for the Isle of Man over the next few days you will note the following wind speeds:

Today 9mph gusting to 12mph

Wednesday 3mph gusting to 5mph

Thursday 18mph gusting to 25mph

Friday 24mph gusting to 35mph

We were booked to come back on Friday but the shipping forecast is saying winds veering to force 7. Force seven means mal de mer for passengers without sea legs (I’d be ok obvs) so we are taking the sensible approach.

Back in Peel after a day out exploring the delights of Douglas, few and far between, I treated meself to a Davidson’s ice cream from the parlour on the prom. Best ice cream going. You may not know but when Norman Wisdom died Davidsons gave everyone free ice cream in his memory. NW had been an investor in the business and helped get it off the ground.

The second hand bookshop was closed. I’ll have to pop back tomorrow morning. Last chance texaco. Gonna buy some more first day covers.

So currently chillaxin after a v pleasant lunch with Mike at 1886 Restaurant. We had planned to have a quiet night in but all plans are subject to change so now we are off out, again. Painting Peel town a very lovely pastel pink, or yellow, or mauve, or any colour you like really.

At least tomorrow’s sailing is at 3.15pm cf 7.15am on Friday. Makes for a more relaxed pack in the morning. We’ve booked into the Doubletree in Liverpeul tomorrow night to finish off the trip. If yer in the area gimme a call.

All is quiet in Peel. I don’t think the residents of The Grove are early risers on a Sunday. I’m pretty sure it is Sunday though I haven’t looked. The grass badly needs cutting. Considering that the house has been in continuous occupation by one sibling or another this is a job that has been put off for far too long 🙂

Not much furniture left in the hoose. In the living room there is an old settee that would otherwise been taken to the tip, two camping chairs and a camping table. Outside the gulls are their usual vociferous selves. 

THG and I will shortly set off on a perambulation. There is no particular rush. Pondering having breakfast at The Harbour Lights caff which notionally opens at ten. I did consider saying nominally opens at ten as it can be a bit erratic and sometimes feels as if it opens when the staff decide to get there. Maybe I’m being unfair.  I note they are closed on Mondays and Tuesdays. Must be more a lifestyle business than one seeking to make the most of the tourism industry. Maybe they can’t get the staff which wouldn’t come as a surprise.

In perambulating THG and I often go our separate ways and meet up for a coffee at the breakwater caff. It is a popular Peel destination and a gold mine for the owner. There are always people sat outside. I guess this is very much a seasonal thing. We mostly come in the spring and summer. It is from the breakwater that I had my one and only sighting of a basking shark. I visit there frequently in the hope of seeing another.

Stay tuned…

Tref and THG go to the Isle of Man. The latest episode soon to be available on all platforms. The Warner Bros advance is about to be spent. No point in doing the Isle of Man on the cheap. 

Having said that we are foot passengers for the first time since I used to use the boat to travel to and from the mainland when going to university. Taking the car would have cost around seven hundred quid versus around three hundred when leaving the car at the Crowne Plaza and hoofing it.

It’s not a biggie really. My very kind and generous sister Sue (I know she reads these posts 🙂) is picking us from the Sea Terminal in Doolish and will whisk us to our pad in Peel for the start of phase three of the holiday. It’s only phase 2 for THG as she didn’t come to the Eisteddfod. 

This is quite understandable considering the not very luxurious accommodation on offer together with the fact that her Welsh vocab  extends only as far as ‘faint o’r gloch yw hi?” and ‘alla chi basio’r bara brith os gwelwch yn dda’. My Welsh pals would have thought her not much of a conversationalist. Someone might even have given her a watch so she could look up the time herself. Also man/THG cannot live on bara brith alone 🙂 There’s also Welsh cakes obvs.

As the steam packet ploughs steadily through the Irish Sea, its course set for Douglas they are showing the England women v Columbia game on the telly. It’s a bit too far away to watch comfortably and I’m not really interested anyway. Of more interest is the Mighty Wales rematch with England at fortress Twickenham later today. I understand that Wales are putting out a completely different team to the one that wallopped the old foe in Cardiff last week. Even up the game a bit probs 🙂

It is a grey day out. It rained on us as we walked from the car to the ferry terminal. Force 4 to 5 wind forecast after we leave port and sea legs required. It is a little known fact that on such occasions the solution to fighting sea sickness is to sing sea shanties, loudly and rumbustiously. The clear absence of such merriment in the premium lounge suggests either an ignorance of this old sailor’s remedy or a solid complement of sea legs. What shall we do with a drunken sailor anyone?

The boat is exhibiting not inconsiderable lateral movement. This is because, as the masthead pennants tell me, the wind is blowing directly across the bows. The sea does not look to be inordinately rough. In fact it is quite pleasant out on deck once you have managed the climb. Letting go of the taffrail is not an option. There were some interesting facts to report from the deck. Out of fourteen people present, only five of them were sporting shorts. nine wore long trousers

My other observation concerns the number of oil rigs in the Irish Sea. Didn’t know there were so many. I suspect they are gas not oil but same difference. The Irish Sea is quite small really. No wonder the Vikings used to dart all over it, experienced rowers one and all. I wonder how they would have got one in a modern day regatta. Leaving their axes and swords behind to lighten the load could have made them unbeatable. Would have been quite an interesting sight. Eight fierce looking viking warriors in singlets and shorts being controlled by one short guy with a megaphone at the back.

Some pretty spectacular waves bashing against the lounge widows. I wonder if they copped it on deck. In the meantime the ladies, who initially went one down are now two one up. I could only tell the score because I took a pic with my phone at 10x zoom and then zoomed in on the photo. The telly behind me ain’t so far away but I’m facing the wrong way. It’s only football anyway.

Thassitfornow.

…

Welcome to Peel. We never tire of coming here. As you drive down into the city the castle appears centre stage in the distance. We have a fantastic house here. Lots of very memorable summer holidays.

Man walks dog. I’ve been half meaning to go through that gate. There is a stream at the bottom, past the trees. Probs won’t get there. Currently sat in the car swigging away at the carton of Tropicana original orange juice with bits.

Slightly annoyed that I forgot to plug the fridge in yesterday after moving it back inside the tent. Two sausages and three bits of bacon are at risk 😉 I wasn’t intending to cook this morning anyway as I’m decamping back to the Wirral and was going to avail myself of the use of the burger van that is parked up near the showers.

Bloke has now let the dog off the lead. Fair play.

I’m pretty impressed with the tent. V cosy. It’s a Berghaus Cairngorm 3. Plenty of separation between inner and flysheet so no issues of water ingress when you touch the sides as one is wont to do. I’ve even worked out the optimal technique for getting in and out  during the night.

Although people are awake inside their caravans it is pretty quiet. As I walked to the portaloo I could hear someone play the penny whistle or flute or similar. Fortunately I can’t hear it from the tent. Not really what you want to hear at 8am in a field.

Bit the bullet and began to pack up the tent. Not that much to do really. The dishes will wait until I get home 🙂The tent itself was not going to dry anytime soon so that just went in the back of the Defender and as I write is draped over some bushes at our AirBnB in Bebington.

As I packed, the ‘peace’ of the morning was somewhat interrupted by a bloke in a nearby caravan sticking his hungover head out of the window and retching unceremoniously. I left him to it. I also avoided looking his way but tbh it is extremely unlikely that eye contact would have been made.

I set the navigation computer controls to East and meandered through the back lanes, often single track, of the Pen Llyn peninsula. The wonder of Waze.

Three detours were made. As I passed Trefor I turned off the main road and drove down into the village. Seemed the right thing to do seeing as they named the place after me. Didn’t stop. Not much to it. Maybe they didn’t name the place after me 🙂

Then I turned off to swing by Dinas Dinlle. Not been there since I was a kid. We used to go to the beach there when we lived in Waunfawr many moons ago. I thought you could drive along the coast to Caernarfon but it turned out to be a dead end once you got past the airport. Yes Caernarfon has an airport.

Finally I drove over the bridge to Sir Fon to stop at the the viewing point on the Menai. A totes brilliant view that I never tire of seeing and, as you know, am happy to make a detour to see it.

Pic is of Cymdeithas Yr Iaith Joy Formidable gig last night. Got in at 12.50. It was very wet out but the tent was cosy fair play.

Have woken up this morning to a beautiful sunny day. Perfect for sitting outside the tent catching up with the world.  My phone is telling me it’s detected moisture in the charging port. Inside the tent is very humid. My specs for example steam up.

So I’m sat outside on my laptop whilst the phone sits on the car dash performing its duties as a hotspot. That, combined with the sun’s rays should drive out the pesky moisture.

A better night’s kip last night. This was partly occasioned by the fact that my neighbours weren’t partying and partly because the Bangor University reunion began at 2pm. It finished when I departed the Maes at around 10pm. Discovered this morning en route to the portaloo that I’d put my pyjama bots on back to front. Ya gorra laugh ‘aven’t you. The only difference is that the pockets face the wrong way. Who uses their pyjama bot pockets anyway?

Yesterday was a wonderful day. We sat for a couple of hours in Ty Gwerin, staking our place to see Sian James’s concert. I’ve never heard her play before. I knew her at University forty years ago. She was absolutely brilliant. It isn’t just her voice. Her harp and piano playing was amazing. Almost an element of jazz entering into the Welsh folk culture.

All in all it was a great day out and wonderful to see some friends I’d not seen for forty years. Not headed to the Maes today. Rhys and Eirian are picking me up around 11ish if it is the will of Allah. We are headed to Nefyn and tonight the Cymdeithas Yr Iaith gig with Joy Formidable. Check em out. This, I understand, is JF’s one and only Welsh gig of the year.

The Manx flag is flapping splendidly in the light morning breeze. I’m not in a major rush. At some point I’ll get going with breakfast and then take a shower. The showers aren’t bad fair play albeit a bit of a hike. No dishwashing facilities though. I guess this is a field after all.

The one element of disquiet in this field is (are?) the massed ranks of caravans. The Welsh are big caravanners. Each to their own and they almost certainly have a far more comfortable time of it than us humble tenters. Tent just feels right to me. I could have brought a campervan apart from the fact that they are all hired out and it made more sense to come in the Defender anyway. It’s a long old trip to Bodeuan.

Front room of cottage. Next to TV. THG is watching the Women’s footie but I am facing away and can’t see the action. I have a call starting in ten minutes and was kicked out of the dining room to make way for a yoga class.

Having recovered from  sleeping on an airbed for two nights when moving Hannah and George into their new home I now find the bed in the cottage to be quite bouncy. Every time I turn over THG gets bounced up in the air. Well almost. Sfunny how you get used to your own bed and mattress innit.

This morning we are going to the local Aldi to purchayse provisions. If you’ve never been to an Aldi you will be amazed at how difficult it is to spend money. You can go to Waitrose and buy the same stuff as in Aldi and find that you’ve only spent a bit more. However Waitrose also dangle other higher cost items in front of you which seem to have an uncanny knack of  finding their way into the trolley. ‘Shrugs shoulders’.

My biggest decision this morning is what to have for tonight’s tea. I have been given free rein by THG. This is not a decision to be taken lightly.

…

So this morning we have been around the value supermarket houses on the Wirral. We started off at Aldi in Bebington. They didn’t have any white wine vinegar and their pan au chocs looked pretty dismal. Also I needed a 4 pack of Carling lager to replace the ones I consumed from the fridge where I only found out afterwards that they wanted £2 each for them. Aldi sold 18 cans for £12 which I’m sure is a good deal but no way did I want to get left with 14 cans of Carling.

Next up we went to the Coop in Bromborough where we bought 4 cans for a fiver. The Coop however didn’t have any wine vinegar either. There is an excellent deli/butchers in Bromborough called Muffs. The presence of such an establishment in Bromborough is somewhat a surprise but there it is and we bought bacon, sore sedges and some lamb kebabs and chicken for tea tonight. No wine vinegar. Forgot to look.

Moving on to The Asda. In Bromborough Asda always has the word “The” in front of it. Not sure this is a global thing. Anyway The Asda didn’t have any wine vinegar either although it did have the pan au choc and a bit of fish for THG.

Finally we stopped off at a brand new Lidl in Bromborough. Lidi did have the vinegar together with everything else that had been on our list, except for the bacon and sausages. They almost certainly do have bacon and sausages but not the kind of quality I’d be interested in.

Bring on click and collect I say.

…

Pleasant enough afternoon. Managed to squeeze in the monthly finance meeting and then set off for a cuppa with THG and her blood and blister. After that we went for a stroll on the front at Parkgate. Got me binoculars out but not that much to see really. Most of the birds must have been chillin’ in amongst the reeds.

Sat in the front room of the cottage in Bebington listening to Miles Davis, ‘Round Midnight. Genius.

The cupboard is bareish. We are doing a big shop tomorrow morning. This isn’t to say we have no food in but it is mostly ‘store cupboard essentials’ Pasta, oil, vinegar. Stuff like that. 

Not that we need anything to eat ce soir. We had a long lunch of tapas at the Bluebell Inn with Barbara and Geroge. V pleasant. Ended up catching a train back to Bebington at around five pm. That’s how long the lunch was.

I had some peanuts with a couple of beers at the Rose and Crown upon our return. Magnifico. The pub not the peanuts.

The speakers on the macbook pro are v good fair play. Perfectly adequate.

It’s a quiet night in here. We are both doing our own thing in the front room. All is quiet. After thirty five years of marriage we don’t have to talk to each other all the time. I will say however that normally we enjoy a nice level of conversation. THG is one of the few people who consistently laughs at my jokes. Maybe the only one 🙂

Breakfast in Bebington. A groundbreaking novella not modelled on anything written by Truman Capote. The patio doors are open. The rain has stopped. The deluge. Forty days and forty nights. Unprecedented(?) 

After the rain the planet comes back to life. People emerge from their shelters,  blinking eyes in unfamiliar sunlight. A dove appears in the garden picking up twigs, presumably to repair its nest.

Last night Wales, Ireland and Scotland won their respective world cup warm up matches and we royally dined out in The Refreshment Rooms. I had chicken liver pate followed by ham, egg and chips. The pate was very nice, fair play. Home made. It came in a small ramekin covered with a layer of fat. Could have done with less fat and more pate. I managed. Simple fare.

Today we are off to Chester on the train. Merseyrail. Meeting Barbara and George for lunch. Tapas. I daresay we may stroll to the Rose and Crown this evening. Sample the best that Bebington has to offer. If you are in the area, swing by.