Thursday 4 December 2014

Ypres thoughts

Having been back for just over a day, I've been thinking about my trip to Ypres with Matthew and would just like to put down on record my recollections.

First of all 'the place'.

The area known as Flanders is a fairly flat, quiet agricultural place, with busy towns and sleepy villages, not unlike the Suffolk I know so well. As I looked around the countryside, it was hard to picture the devastation and death that was present 100 years ago. Virtually everything was destroyed and replaced with mud, water-filled craters, brick rubble, broken trees, duckboards, tangled metal, burning vehicles, and, worse of all, bedraggled people and the bodies of men and animals. 

Despite all of this, the people of Flanders returned and rebuilt everything and it's hard now to overlay the historic pictures in your mind's eye on the present landscape, where it not for the many thousands of photos we have seen. I have to keep reminding myself that virtually everything we saw is less than a hundred years old, the buildings, the roads, the trees, etc, etc.

My other recollection about the place relates to the names of particular areas in Flanders. I have known about these places for many years. Names like Ypres (Wipers), Ploegsteert Wood (Plugstreet Wood), Polygon Wood, Messines Ridge, Passchendaele, Tyne Cot, Kemmel, and so on and, of course, you can't think of these places without a least a basic understanding of what went on there 100 years ago. 

It's rather odd to see them now in 2014. They are just ordinary places; small towns and villages going about their daily business, quiet woodlands and copses, rivers and ditches, farms, roads and lanes, low hills overlooking flat meadows, etc. But they are where history was made and, quite rightly, they are now held in high regard because of that. The places are respected and cared for as pieces of land where men fought and died. Adults from all over world and their children visit to see where history was made. Many, like Matt and me, visit to say a few private words to a long lost relative who knew the place under very difference circumstances. 

My second impression is about the people of Flanders. They seem to take all this in their stride, after all they are used to it, just going about their normal lives while visitors drive or walk around their neighbourhood looking at the places they call home. Many of them are even making a good living out of 'history tourism' and why not? It's not every day, a world war is fought on your doorstep!

While thinking about people, I was, and still am, moved by the thought of all the people who went to Belgium and other places on the Western Front to fight for freedom (it sounds a bit crass, but its true).

With little knowledge or understanding of what they were letting themselves in for; with excitement in the air, high spirits, determination, camaraderie and a sort of wide-eyed enthusiasm for the adventure that lay ahead, young men poured across the channel and some of them died within days of arrival in the trenches, some even died on the day they arrived. Others went on to fight an horrific war that none of them could have imagined beforehand. It must have been a very cold wake-up call for all of them. It's no surprise that survivors found it difficult or impossible to talk about it. 

I have the utmost respect for them all and I suppose that is the reason I find the haunting sound of the Last Post or a minutes silence so moving.

My last comment is even more personal. My trip was with my eldest son Matthew. It doesn't happen often. I wish it did. I enjoyed every minute, I hope we do it again soon and I hope my other son, Ben, can join us too. 

Now, I must put the kettle on and have a brew.

Wednesday 3 December 2014

Ypres

I have just got back from my trip to Ypres with my son Matthew. The main aim was to visit the grave of my mother's Uncle Alfred who died on 28 November 1914, exactly 100 years ago. Of course, neither of us knew him, but it was just a matter of showing respect for what he and hundreds of thousands of others did at the time. 

The loss of his life at the age of 28, and that of his brother a few months later, obviously hit his family and friends hard  but it's even harder to comprehend when you realise this feeling of loss was felt by so many other families all over the world. It's really hard to imagine.

After a choppy crossing from Dover to Dunkirk, I traveled through a short piece of northern France into Belgium, getting to Ypres by mid afternoon. As I didn't need to check into the hotel so soon, I spent a few minutes at the nearby Hill 62 - more about that later.

Matthew arrived at 5.30pm and we discussed our plans, which included visiting the Menin Gate Last Post Ceremony, searching out various battlefields, museums, monuments and cemeteries, and most importantly, visiting the grave of Mum's uncle.

The Menin Gate was built just after the war to represent the thousands of Commonwealth soldiers who died in the Ypres Salient and whose bodies were never found. There are some 54,000 names inscribed and, as you wander around in silence looking at their names, you start to get a feeling for the monumental loss of life. 



The sides of the monument are also covered in their names; the lists go on and on and on...



When I first saw the gate some 30 years ago, I couldn't understand how so many people could just go missing until I read a bit about the way the war was fought. Following a brief period of 'mobile' warfare with the main armies jostling for position along a 400 mile line roughly from the Belgium coast to Switzerland, the war became a stalemate and they dug into the ground for protection - the start of trench warfare and it continued for the next four years. 

Then, apart from countless costly advances and retreats all along the front on both sides, many men lost their lives through heavy artillery shelling, constant sniper fire, poison gas and flame thrower attacks, overnight raids, mining operations, and even illness and disease. Many of these men found themselves either stranded, wounded or killed in their trenches or in 'no-man's land' between the trenches and the constant bombing, day after day, destroyed what little there was left of them. It's really sad to see so many men's names on so many monuments. Matthew and I agreed everyone should have a grave.

At about 7.30pm every day, the Police close the road that runs under the gate and many people gather to watch and listen. Ever since the Second World War, the men of the Last Post Association, sound the Last Post on their bugles at exactly 8.00pm as a tribute to those that died and, I can say without fear of contradiction, it is a very moving experience. This year, at the start of each ceremony, someone reads a brief description of a soldier's experience in the Salient - a different one each evening. It adds a great deal to the experience.

The next morning, we went to the nearby Hill 62 which was held by the Canadians for all of the war. It stands 62 meters above sea level (hence its name) and overlooks Ypres to the west and the front line to the east. Because of its important strategic position and its relative height above the surrounding ground, it was fought over fiercely by both sides. The Canadians eventually won the heights and have a simple but moving monument on the top. The view is stunning. You can see why it was so important to hold on to it. The town in the distance is Ypres.



A little way down the road is a small private museum called Hill 62 museum or sometimes the Sanctuary Wood Museum after the nearby wood that was used to provide a little sanctuary for soldiers fighting at the front.



While this museum is out-dated now and could do with some modern TLC, it has a lot of original exhibits found in the nearby fields but two elements stand out; the large reconstructed trench system in the wood behind the buildings...


 


...and the stereoscopic viewers showing unpublished photos of life in the trenches.


These viewers, have taken a bit of a beating over the years but they illustrate some of the real horrors of trench warfare including the clinging mud, the tangled metal and the human and animal cost. These were the photos that the military and civil authorities considered too gruesome to show the public at the time and I'm sure they were right. They are hard to look at even now.

The museum is a bit pricey for what you get (8euros) but is still worth seeing.

After Hill 62, we went down to the village of Kemmel to see Alfred's grave at the secluded La Laiterie Cemetery containing 751 graves in all. For a short while it had been in German hands. We know he was killed in action but we don't know much more than that. It may have been nearby as soldiers who either died in battle or shortly afterwards appear to have been buried close to where they fell. Others, who may have survived a while before they died, appear to have been buried further away, maybe as they were being moved to a clearing station or beyond.

Alfred was 28 when he died and was a private (7657) serving in the 1st Bn of the Lincolnshire Regt. He was the son of John and Mary Bloomfield of Saxstead, near Framlingham, Suffolk.


His grave is the third row from the left-hand corner (Plot I, Row B, Grave 32). We didn't have much to say to him (it didn't seem necessary really) but we left him a poppy on a wooden cross with a few words just so he knows we've not forgotten him...



We then went on to Mount Kemmel, the highest hill in the Salient, that was held by the allies for much of the war. It was taken by the Germans for a while and then retaken by the allies just before the end of the war. Apart from its height, it contains a number of bunkers (the Lettenburg Bunkers) driven deep into the hillside for protection. Understandably many of the commanding officers used these to house their forward control points and supplies. The entrances to four of them can still be seen in the hillside.


We spent the rest of the day in the southern part of the Salient; the most notable places being the Island of Ireland Peace Park at Mesen (Messines), a non-military, non-religious monument to promote peace...


...the 'Plugstreet Wood' cemeteries (Ploegsteert) ...


...and one of the large 'Hill 60' craters formed by the undermining operations. Apparently 19 of the these went off at the same time at the end of the war and they helped to secure an allied breakthrough.. This one was big, but there are bigger ones!


Mining tunnels for self-preservation and blowing up the opposition's trenches was a constant and very dangerous activity on all sides and evidence of this can be found almost everywhere along the front.

On our last day we visited the Butte Cemetery at Polygon Wood. It was very large and contained many 'unknown soldier' graves. I found one particular wreath on an unknown Australian's grave devoted 'to all the brave soldiers who gave such a lot' - very moving.


Just opposite the entrance is a small cemetery with 50 or so graves laid out randomly.but mainly in short rows of between 4 and 10. Apparently this was next to a dressing station where soldiers first went to have their wounds dressed. Those that were dead on arrival or died shortly afterwards, were laid in short trenches, covered over and their graves marked with whatever was at hand, eg a broken chair leg or plank of wood. After the war, it was decided not to exhume them and relocate the bodies to a 'concentration cemetery', as was done elsewhere, but to leave them where they were. It makes this cemetery even  sadder than the others as it reflects the harsh realities of life and death close to the front.  

We then visited the Passchendale Museum, which was probably the best we had seen, set in a Chateau in fantastic grounds. It's not in Passchendale as you might expect but in the village of Zonnebeke about 3 miles south. It had lots of traditional but high quality museum exhibits tracing the progress of the battle plus some fascinating dugouts and reconstructed trenches.


This was well worth a visit, not expensive (7.5euros I think), and if you want to get a good all round impression of the war, this should be the museum to aim for.

We ended our trip at the Tyne Cot Cemetery, which contains 35,000 Commonwealth war graves, the most in the Salient. This is another 'must see' place. Apart from the cemetery, which is huge, it now has a shiny new Visitor Centre and a large car/coach park and toilets to cope with the high visitor numbers.


One of the most moving exhibits was a constantly moving slide show of individual soldiers photos with a softly spoken lady reading out their names and their ages when they died. I stood and watched this for a while, after all it was quite hypnotic, but I realised this sad list would probably go on for months. 

Matthew and I parted company, him heading home to the east, me heading west back to Ypres and a quiet but cold night in the Landy next to one of the town's many canals.

Before I turned in, I visited the In Flanders Fields exhibition in the Cloth Hall. It was a new exhibition and I guess cost a fortune as it had just about every electronic, computerised, new-fangled gadgety thingy-me-bob you could wish for to show you who fought the war, where and how. It was a bit over the top (please excuse the pun). It was still early so I went back to the Menin Gate to hear the Last Post once again.

So that was it. Well, apart from the next morning as I left to head back to Dunkirk. I wanted to say a final farewell to Alfred as I guessed he might not get many more visitors for the next 100 years.

It was quite early and still a bit misty as I parked next to the cemetery. There was no one about. I took my ukulele out of its case and managed to sing a quiet but tearful rendition of 'Keep the Home Fires Burning' next to his grave. Respectful, peaceful, touching.

Matt and I have discussed the idea of visiting the grave of Alfred's brother, Francis, on his 100th anniversary. He died in action during May 1915 and is buried in the military cemetery south of Rouen. Of the five Bloomfield brothers who went to war, Alfred and Francis didn't make it home. My grandfather did. It makes you think what could have happened if things had turned out differently!

Incidentally, we think my paternal grandfather may have been fighting in the Salient at the same time as Alfred and Francis, long before there were any family links. It was a big, bad war but it was still a very small world.

Saturday 22 November 2014

Mild CO poisoning?

I hesitate to report this but think it may help someone else if you read about  my recent mishap. 

After arriving at Ely for a couple of nights away, I decided to put my feet up for a few minutes while the Webasto heated up for the first time this year. As I dozed, it sounded OK as it went through its lighting up process and I thought no more about it as I slipped effortlessly into Dozyplonkland.

I was then suddenly woken from my peaceful slumber by the Smoke/Carbon Monocide alarm bleeping loudly above my head and calling out CARBON MONOCIDE! CARBON MONOCIDE!

I took one giant leap off the bed like a startled gazelle, switched off the Webasto and headed for the nearest door at a fast rate of knots just as the instructions state in no uncertain terms. CO is not to be taken lightly as it's very harmful to the health and comes without sight, smell  or taste. 

After a few minutes standing on the jetty, I went around to the front end of the boat (AKA the bow) and opened that door and went inside to open a few portholes to get more ventilation through. As the alarm was still going I went outside again asap. When the alarm finally stopped, I went back inside. Not being able to see or smell any problem, I wondered if the alarm was working properly so I took out the batteries and started it again. Nothing. Was it a false alarm or the real thing I wondered? Was I thinking straight? Come on, work it out! It can't be that difficult.

Anyway, I decided to opt for what I thought was the sensible route and not put the Webasto on again until it had been serviced and tested, but I would also work through the other possible causes in the morning like the gas stove and coal fire. I settled down again for a quiet evening in but gradually started to get an upset stomach. Was this the big meal I had indulged in or something else?

By 9.30pm I was feeling a bit grotty in the mid drift department so headed for bed. The belly got worse and worse and in about 45 minutes I was violently sick. This was repeated about 4 or 5 times until I finally got to sleep at about 2.00 am. When I got up about 9.00 am next morning, I looked at the alarm information again, and it looked like I had had a mild bout of CO poisoning; nausea and vomiting being the main symptoms. This was bad enough so I dread to think what the more serious bouts are like. The middle one apparently involves delirium and convulsions but, the worse one, I understand, involves some additional excruciating pain which is only relieved by the onset of your premature death. Quite serious really!

So, what have I learnt?

1. I have fitted a good quality Smoke and CO Alarm that works well. (That's a good thing).

2. I test it nearly every week as the manufacturer recommends. (That's another good thing).

2. I must remember to replace the batteries annually, even if I think they don't need it. (Mmmmm).

3. I've been on many training courses about what to do when I see or smell smoke, or a smoke/fire alarm goes off, but I don't remember them mentioning what to do when a CO alarm goes off (I'm not really blaming the instructors), but when there's no acrid smoke, no smell or taste and there are no crowds of people rushing to the rendezvous point in the car park, while my first reaction was to make a bolt for the door (that's a good thing), my second reaction was to question whether the alarm was faulty (that was wrong!).

4. So my CO alarm plan is to get out asap and open the doors and windows as I go (unlike a fire, when I would try to close as many as I can) and not go back in until it's safe, especially if the alarm is still blaring out its warnings. 

Dickie Boy, you have learnt an important lesson; now go and have your boiler serviced and check everywhere for embarrassing leaks.


Sunday 16 November 2014

Phantom fender fixer is found

When I returned to the marina last week, my neighbour, who just happened to be leaving at the time, told me he had bumped into Skylark a couple of weeks ago in a high wind, and knocked my fender off. He then kindly put it back in place with a new D shackle. So, mystery solved.

Thanks mate. You're a credit to the narrowboating fraternity.

It just gets better

After returning from a couple of nights away on Skylark (charging batteries, cleaning, polishing, chilling out, etc), I found yet another 'freebie' for the over 60's waiting for me on the doorstep - an invitation to take part in the latest NHS Bowel Cancer Screening Programme.

I'm overwhelmed with excitement!

Monday 10 November 2014

Over 60's discounts

Having achieved 60 years plus 1 day, I am starting to gather information about the discounts I'm now eligible for. 

You see, when family and friends realise I have reached that all important age ('...but you don't look a day over 59! ha ha ha!!'), they are more than happy to inform me about some of the benefits. I had already convinced myself there aren't any, but how wrong could I be? 

Apart from the free prescriptions I have known about and looked forward to for years, it appears I am now eligible for discounts of 10% on B&Q purchases every Wednesday, discounts at some theatres and Cineworld, older persons meal-deals, leisure centre savings, free eye tests and 25% off Specsaver's glasses, senior coach cards for £10, 30% train discounts, National Trust offers, old blokes haircut days and even special rates at adult education establishments. And if that lot was not enough to be getting on with, I now learn that I may be eligible for free gas checks. Mmmm... that should come in handy as my system starts to fail!

Now all I have to do is have a word with some of those people who I thought were my friends who seem to be getting rather too much pleasure reminding me about how old I am. 

I suppose I should just grin and bear it. You never know, one day we might all be sitting in the same nursing home waiting for our nappies to be changed and I'll be able to sit there with a warm feeling of deep satisfaction engulfing my very being... and have the last laugh!!!

Saturday 8 November 2014

Trip to London

The birthday celebrations in London went well. We both had a very enjoyable time, first watching Warhorse and then going to the Tower to see the WW1 poppies and the various exhibits inside.

Warhorse was everything people had said it was. We had already seen the film so were prepared for the story-line but were blown away by the fantastic production set on a simple stage. Talk about suspending disbelief! It was, at times, easy to believe the horses were real. As in the film, I found the cavalry charge the most moving but you need to see it for yourself to fully take it in.



We arrived at the Tower early next morning to try and avoid too many crowds and we were glad we did. By opening time at 9.00am people were already gathering around the public paths and others were waiting to go in. The poppies were quite a spectacle, almost touching the walls either side of the dry moat. 


Inside, the Tower presented a few surprises, showing various exhibits we had not seen last time we visited a few years ago.

The WW1 exhibit was new and included some old photos with troops training in the grounds of the tower with a modern soldier superimposed. Very moving stuff.

I liked the photo below showing troops being trained how to shoot. I'm sure the instructor should have been behind the troops but then I'm no expert.


Perhaps the group in the background are just getting rid of the previous instructor.

By 11.00am the crowds were building in  numbers including coachloads of children (bless 'em) and space began to get a bit short both inside and out. Our previous walk around the site became a shuffle at best and in some places a stand-still. Never mind, at least we had seen it.

We  went back to Liverpool Street station via a tasty street-meal in Brick Lane and fell asleep on the return train journey.

By the way, while we know the Tower is a fantastic place to visit, the skyline of the city is just as fantastic in the it's own right.


I wouldn't want to work there but we are so lucky to have all these places on our doorstep.

Tuesday 28 October 2014

Are you the phantom fender fixer?

When I got to the boat on Sunday afternoon, I made ready and shoved off within a few minutes, hoping to get to Ely before dark. It was quite dark when I got there so I moored at a convenient spot and settled down for the night. It wasn't very cold but I lit the fire anyway as it does make the boat comfy overnight.

The next morning, with my stove fan still turning, I pottered about both inside and out. It was while I was checking my mooring ropes that I noticed something odd - someone had replaced a link in my fender chain with a nice new shiny 'D' shackle. You can just see it in the photo...


I guessed this had been done at the marina, not while I slept over night, but I couldn't fathom out why. When I got back to the marina, I asked the owners if they had done it and they said no, so I am none the wiser. My guess is that someone may have bumped into me at the marina and knocked the fender off and then kindly repaired it. If it was you, please let me know 'cos I'd like to thank you.

Another odd thing, my two day jaunt was cut short by a phone call telling me my builder wanted to start work on Tuesday rather than Wednesday. I thought, blimey, builders are not known for starting jobs early! Anyway, I thought there's no point winding the bloke up so I left at mid day and got home at tea time.

I'll see if the scrap chimney fits next time.

Saturday 25 October 2014

Scrap Heap Challenge

You know those times when you see something you like or think it may be useful but you don't know the exact measurements of the place you think it might be useful in? Well, I have those times quite frequently like seeing a nice curtain pole for sale but not knowing the exact width of the window it could fit or seeing a pair of secondhand bike tyres and not knowing the exact size of the wheels they could go on or seeing a big plate of bangers and mash with peas and gravy and not knowing exactly how hungry I am - you get the picture.

Well, this morning I had one of those moments when I found a secondhand boiler chimney lurking under a box at the local CBS...



...and I thought it might be useful on Skylark. 

It looked about the right size for a narrowboat chimney and I liked the simple chrome design but I didn't know the exact size of the fitting on the boat. Oh well, I thought, even if it's a few mil out, I can probably fit it with a nip and tuck here or there. So I negotiated hard and got the price down to 50p. The deal was done and hard cash changed hands. Back of the net!

So I'm now off to the boat to fit it, and if it doesn't quite fit, I will turn my head to finding a crafty solution.

Perhaps I should rename Skylark, 'Scrap Heap Challenge'.

(Thinks...I'm sure there's an anagram in there somewhere but I can't find it. Answers on a postcard please.)

Wednesday 22 October 2014

Probate arrives

Contrary to the advice on the Probate Office website that states the process should take about 6 weeks, I have now got the Letter of Administration after three and a half months. In a way, I feel sorry for the staff who obviously have a large workload but there is something fundamentally wrong with the system; I guess lack of resources, like so many publicly funded organisations these days.

Anyway, I'm pleased to get this step in the process finished as I can now get on with the next few steps of selling assets and dealing with creditors. 

If you haven't dealt with probate before and find yourself in the firing line, I warn you, it's more complicated and time-consuming than you could imagine. But look on the bright side, it's another good opportunity to practice your already stretched patience skills!!!!

Wednesday 15 October 2014

Patience is a virtue


My second morning in Ely last weekend proved to be a bit misty but it soon cleared. That left me plenty of time to complete my routine chores of cleaning and polishing. 

I then took a stroll into town and rummaged through the street market and charity shops. 

You know, I sometimes wonder if I'm invisible. Saturday was one such day. As I mooched about, I was constantly bumped and jostled by people changing directions on pavements without looking, I was stopped in my tracks by people chatting in shop doors or between shelves, and, on one occasion, as I waited to let an old lady complete her purchase at a till, she flung her shopping bag over her shoulder and hit me in the chest. And she didn't even realise she'd done it! If my school career adviser had known about my ability to blend into my surroundings so well, he could have pointed me in the direction of being an undercover policeman or international spy rather than working for a local council. My whole life would have turned out differently.

Anyway, it got me thinking, I've come to the conclusion that people should undergo compulsory walking tuition once they reach a certain age. The aim would be to teach them to look behind before they stop or change direction, to avoid entering into conversations in shop doors or gangways, and to find their purses or wallets well before they get to the till. 

Of course this problem is not restricted to just older people. I'll give you any example. Later on Saturday I went to Lidl to get a few bits and pieces for tea and I chose a till that looked like it would be easy to get through without any problems or delays. How wrong could I be. As the young lady, already at the checkout, was having her shopping rung through the till, she suddenly remembered something she had forgotten and just went off to find it. When she came back it was rung through the till. Then she remembered something else and did the same and then, to cap it all, she did it a third time. Of course, I was not in a hurry so I used this time to practice my patience skills - something I'm not usually very good at. When all her goods were totted up, she got out one of her many credit cards and found it didn't work so had another go and third go and then gave up. She then got another card out and tried that. Fortunately that one worked. While all this was going on, everyone else in the shop was passing through their checkouts without any holdups. The blockage was at the one I chose and she was oblivious to the fact that I was standing there, waiting. 

When she eventually left the shop, the checkout girl looked at me (so I was visible after all) and we both breathed a huge sigh of relief, we had a brief exchange of jolly banter (we British are good at that) and I promptly paid for my food and drink and left the shop making sure there were no 'vacant, confused or forgetful looking people' loitering in my vicinity.

So, where is all this leading? I know patience is a virtue but when presented with extreme situations like the ones I experienced on Saturday, there is a limit to how much patience I can muster and mine proved to be very low. To be honest, if my patience was a fuel tank, I would have been running on empty. 

So, what can I do about it?  Rather than getting into any direct action like asking these people to 'get out of my way', or campaigning in public for better street skills, or lobbying my MP to designate separate areas for vague people and normal people (like me), I'm going to set up an e-petition on the Government's website. It will put forward the very strong argument for the introduction of compulsory walking training for the over 60's and a supermarket checkout protocol for dim people. To get the government to discuss these important issues in parliament just needs another 99,999 people to sign the petition. That shouldn't be too much of a problem.

However, there is one fundamental flaw in my plan - I turn 60 next month and I'm sure I don't need walking training. 

Rethink needed.

Tuesday 7 October 2014

WW1

Just thought I'd mention a couple of things coming up in November.

To celebrate me hitting the big 60 Kay has planned a short trip into London for us both to see Warhorse and the WW1 poppies at the Tower of London. To show my appreciation, I may have to fork out on a romantic meal somewhere along the line; British Rail does a good bacon butty I'm told.

Then at the end of November, still on the WW1 theme, I'm popping over to Ypres (Leper) to visit the war grave of one of my mother's uncles who died on 28 November 1914, exactly 100 years ago. He was 28 when he died in the trenches near Kemmel and lies in a small cemetery just north of the town. As I'm not a great fan of formal ceremonies with long speeches about self-sacrifice and the glorious dead, I'm thinking about how I can mark this special anniversary with something more personal.

I'm meeting my son and his wife the previous evening and we will attend the nightly sounding of the Last Post under the Menin Gate. We did this a few years ago and it was a very moving experience. I recommend this to everyone who values their freedom and wishes to say a quiet and tearful 'thank you' to all those men and women who died. 

Saturday 4 October 2014

Suffun'f'nuffun

I often walk around the local car boot sale looking for bargains that may be useful for the boat or the house. As I wander between the stalls searching for that elusive right angled bracket or 8mm masonry drill, I like to keep one ear on the conversations going on. Of course, as I'm walking, I only hear snippets but they can open up a myriad of lives being lived.

This morning, I heard lots about the weather, especially as this long dry spell is about to be brought to a sharp conclusion with heavy wind and rain heading down from the north. 

I heard, lots of traders threatening to give it all up (the trade, I guess, not life). And I don't know if it's just the way people speak nowadays, but I heard lots of negatives like, 'How are ya?', 'Oh, not as bad as I was but then not as good as I could be.' Or, 'Haven't see ya f' a while.' No, that's probably because I hevn't been here. Me wife's had problems wiv her feet.' 

I hear lots of gripes about poor trade like, 'Not doin' so well today, even worse than Woolpit.' or 'I don't know why I do it, just standin' here gettin' cold.' Or ' I know it's all rubbish but I thought someone would want to buy it.'

I also hear lots of languages that I don't recognise, mainly eastern european I guess, but I love it when I hear broad Suffolk. This dialect is sadly disappearing but this morning it made me chuckle when I heard an old boy grumbling, 'People, I dunno, they all warnt suffun'f''nuffun.' Nice.

Anyway, without any bargains in hand, I made my way out of the field and headed home but, as I left, I heard a final gem. I have absolutely no idea what the guy was talking about. 

'If I'd known you were comin', I'd have washed it.'

If I ever have a family coat of arms, I think I'll have that as my motto.

Tuesday 30 September 2014

On yer bike!

I'm a keen biker and use my bike at home whenever I can and I also have a folding bike for use when I'm away on the boat. But last week when I had a couple of nights away, I was walking along the river just outside Ely making my obligatory phone home and all was quiet. As I finished my call and turned around to walk back, I thought I would just check to see if any texts had arrived so I walked slowly with my head down looking at my phone. I know lots of people do this nowadays but it's not something I do often. Anyway, no sooner had I found the text button on my phone, I heard a short, sharp cry, 'Look up, look up!'. This took me by surprise, as I thought I was the only person around at the time, but as soon as I looked up a biker whizzed past me doing what I thought must have been 25 mph.

Well, it was quite a shock I can tell you and I let out an involuntary, 'Whoah...'. You know the sort of thing John Wayne might shout if he's trying to stop a stampeding Wells Fargo stage coach (a bit embarrassing if anyone else had heard me). Anyway, I went on my way thinking, 'Why didn't he ring his bell?'. Whenever I approach some one on a narrow path I always ring my bell and slow down, so why didn't he? Perhaps a bell is too namby pamby for a racing bike.

So that's it. I hope you weren't expecting a great punch line or something more exciting but that was about as exciting as it ever gets on the Ouse.

Time for a photo of the Ouse looking its best - again...


Tuesday 23 September 2014

Maintenance visits

Since my last post, I have only been able to visit Skylark a couple of times to keep things clean and tidy, and most importantly, to give the batteries a boost. The probate thing is grinding on at a snails pace due, I'm told, to the very high workload, I presume, too many people are dying at the moment and the government is not providing enough resources to cope with it. 

To give some idea of the delays involved, letters and emails are said to be answered in 10-12 days and phone calls within 48 hours but the people there have not yet achieved those targets. The only way I can get any response, is to badger them over the phone until someone gets the message that I want answers; not a good state of affairs.

And while I'm in 'Mr Grumpy' mode, why don't large organisations like building societies, bank and service providers link up their computers so they stop sending me letters and emails about the aforesaid estate that wind me up? I have had to phone so many of them just to repeat what I've already told someone else and then, a couple of weeks later, I get another letter from their computer when it (the computer) decides it hasn't heard from me lately. I have had to make a few complaints.

Anyway, I may get away again this week for a night on the river. The weather is set fair, there is enough fuel in the tank and I think I can leave the hard-pressed Probate Officers to work through some of their backlog without any hassle from me. 

I'm sure the they will be pleased with that and I can look forward to receiving my paperwork when I get back - ha!

Friday 22 August 2014

A brief encounter

Today, I decided to take a break from the ongoing stuff at home and take a short trip up to the boat. I also needed to pick up some DIY tools from Skylark, and make sure everything is still tickety-boo on board so, even though it took me just over an hour to get there, it was worthwhile.

When I got there I found Skylark under a thin net of cobwebs and a light dusting of, what I guessed was, chaff from the nearby wheat field, which was in the process of being harvested. 

It's funny how in a rural environment, where there is very little in the way of atmospheric pollution, the air can be so full of bits and pieces. And, why it all has to land on Skylark, I don't know.

Anyway, in addition to picking up the tools, I swept the nearside of the boat and its roof, ejected a few more spiders from the portholes and doors, and did a bit of general tidying up. This all took about an hour. 

You know, it's amazing how quickly she starts looking down-at-heal when left alone for a couple of weeks, and how she soon perks up when I lavish a bit of TLC on her. I used to have a girl friend like that once.

Monday 18 August 2014

Who ever thought Probate was a good idea?

To help take my mind of the continuing horror story that some bright spark concocted in the dark ages called Probate, Kay has bought me a nice little memo pad from Ipswich with a heartfelt motto on it's cover.

Thanks Kay...


Thursday 14 August 2014

Brush the dust off

Another short trip to air the boat and brush the dust off. It was also an opportunity to make a few spiders homeless. Ely was a bit busy for mid week but I found a quiet spot next to the Bridge Boatyard and I moored up for the night. Apart from a very blustery trip up the river against the current and into the sun and wind (yuk), the weather was fine and quite pleasant - sunny but not too hot.
With everything else going on at the moment, I'm not thinking about Skylark much. I hope to return to 'boating mode' as soon as the Probate thing is sorted out. Perhaps I should have listened to that warning voice in my head!

Saturday 2 August 2014

Cracking weather

I only had time to spin up to Ely yesterday. Just enough time to brush off the light dusting of grime, un-stick the patchwork of dead leaves, wash off the spattering of baked-on bird poo and remove the many intricate spiders webs. 
Interesting, with the very slow current on the river and the very warm weather, there was a major flush of duckweed (?) across the whole river at Littleport; it was like ploughing through a recently mown playing field.
Anyway, the batteries got a few hours of charge and I got nearly a whole day trying  not to think about Probate but, you know how it is, the more you try not to do something........Ahhhhhh........ give me strength!!!!!

Thursday 24 July 2014

Nothing to report

Since my last Blog 3 weeks ago, I have only been on the boat once; a short trip up to Ely for one night.

The rest of my time has been spent arranging and running John's funeral, which went well fortunately, and doing all the prep to put his bungalow up for sale. Oh yes, and in between all that, we opened up the house for the Street Fayre a couple of Sundays ago.

At least John's estate is quite simple but, having said that, I have been amazed how complicated and time-consuming it has all been. I know, it could have been worse so I'm not really complaining - much. 

So, with the weather being so good at the moment, I may pop up to see Skylark in the next few days to brush off the dust, start the engine, and if I can spare the time, I may take her out for a spin. I guess she won't be too bothered but I could certainly do with a break!

Who said there's nothing to report?!?

Tuesday 1 July 2014

Always look on the bright side

To coincide with the return of the Pythons at the O2 arena, my thoughts today turned to the maxim; always look on the bright side of life. 

At the moment I'm dealing with the funeral of my cousin John. I'm having to apply for Probate, sell in bungalow, pay off all his creditors and prepare his eulogy, things I have never done before and it's important to get this process right. It's all becoming quite a strain, not just because it came out of the blue and is a significant responsibility but it has to take priority over lots of other things I would rather be doing (not least of which is boating). I suppose it just goes to show, there are some things that are more important that boating.

But it also makes it so obvious that we must have things to take our minds off the the challenging things in life, to keep things in perspective, to help us 'look on the bright side of life'. Just as Churchill and Hitler had hobbies to take their minds off the harsh realities of life, we also need hobbies.

I suppose that's one reason, why I have taken to rearing chickens. I know having two chickens is not exactly in the same league as Bernard Matthews but its bringing us a great deal of pleasure. Yesterday's first egg being a good example.

I'm also building a new pen to make their lives happier and a couple of evenings ago, we bought a second-hand chicken coop. Yesterday, between, telephone calls to estate agents, creditors and Registrars, I refurbished it; pressure washing it, making a new roof, improving the door, fitting new catches, etc.

It certainly helps me look on the bright side of life. And I can't resist taking a photo of it for the record. Is that sad or what? At least it has taken my mind of some of the other jobs I have to do today.

Our first egg!

There's nothing to report on the boating front because I have spent quite some time at home. It's amazing how much stuff builds up when the weather's fine

News from the chicken run is good. Mabel has produced her first egg without any fuss. She just settled down on the nest and, hey presto, one nice brown egg - a good size and shape, a strong shell and, lets hope, a good taste.

Well done Mabel!

We just need Tikka to make a start and we'll be in full production.


Saturday 21 June 2014

Mabel and Tikka settle in

After a night spent in my shed (the birds, not me - the only solution as they continued to seek the outside world), Mabel and Tikka emerged wide legged and eyeless.

I left them to bumble about the garden exploring their new range but before long they seemed at ease and even had a drink at the pond so I left them to their own devices.



Mabel is the smaller one on the left with the light brown feathers and Tikka is the darker one with the big arse. Both should be good layers.

I'm now going to spend the day stock-proofing their pen a bit more.

Good news and bad news

First the bad news. 

While we were away, I heard my older cousin John had died. That was bad enough but when I got home and learnt more, it turned out that, having lost his mum and dad and never having had children himself, the next of kin is my father. On top of that, as he didn't leave a will or any executors, we are left to sort out his funeral and estate. To make matters even more challenging, when someone threw out the question, ''Who has the time to organise the funeral?' I was the one standing in the corner trying to put a busy look on my face, but I failed miserably to convince anyone that I should be excused this family duty.

So, I have spent the last few days ringing around family and friends, meeting Registrars and Funeral Directors and lots of other stuff like that. I shan't be seeing the boat for a while me thinks.

Anyway, there is some good news. We picked up two 18 week old chickens this evening and settled them down in their new run. Ah, they are so cute! However, while Mabel and Tikka liked their new run at first, they soon decided to launch numerous and very successful escape bids into the garden. We made a few running additions to the pen to try and keep them in but that just seemed to encourage them to try harder so they have been locked in the shed with a perch, a nest box and enough food and drink to see them through the night. 

I now feel a bit like the Commandant of Colditz; quietly pleased with myself at foiling the latest cunning escape but still anxious knowing they are already plotting another one. 

At least they should still be there in the morning, unless they can burrow through solid flooring in seven hours or knock up an improvised glider with my spare bits of wood and rolls of gaffer tape.

Monday 16 June 2014

Needham Market Summer Street Faye

If you like exploring historic villages, having a drink, a meal or a snack, buying good quality local goods and generally having a good time...

A date for your diary...

SUNDAY, 13 JULY 2014

The place...

NEEDHAM MARKET, SUFFOLK

The times...

10.00am - 4.00pm.

There will be lots going on from local shops, stalls, pubs, entertainment, open mic, and lots, lots more.

Sunday 15 June 2014

It's nice to be home

Having two weeks away is good but it's also nice to get home.

Our trip up the Nene was cut short because of strong stream advice from the EA. We made it through Denver Sluice without any problems or warning from the EA staff but when we reached March a fellow boater mentioned that Stanground Lock in Peterborough was closed due to flooding. The Lock Keeper confirmed this and could not guess when the lock would be opened. It meant the whole of the upstream section was closed too. So, thinking hats on - stay put, turn around and go back, or go on in the hope the advice would change and risk being trapped in the Nene.

We decided to go on but take a short detour to Ramsey. The mooring at Ramsey is not well advertised in the Middle Levels Commisioner's leaflet but we managed to get in alongside another boat owned by a friendly Yorkshireman. Ramsey was a bit damp when we arrived!



We found Ramsey attractive in parts, especially around the Church and College (the old Abbey) but in other parts it looked tired and in need of some re-invigoration - a bit like me really. We only stayed one night and moved on. The Yorkshireman was going back to March for some music festival in the park the following weekend. It's all happening in the Fens.

A word of warning, if you're thinking of going to Ramsey and you have a boat longer than 60 feet (including fenders), don't. You won't be able to turn and you'll have the very doubtful pleasure of having to reverse out of the narrow channel for nearly a mile. I only just managed to turn by putting the bow into the corner of the jetty (bottom left) and powering the stern around to the right. As the rear fender pushed its way through the overhanging brambles, I wondered if I would achieve it and (phew) I only just made it. So, be warned!

As we got back on to the main channel, we opted to head back as the strong stream advice was still on. This was a shame but the sensible option.

Our return journey was uneventful. After a pleasant night in March, we got to Salters Lode the following day, after the locking time. I will make sure next when they are open. Anyway bedded down next to the landing stage. No facilities here (or pub) so be prepared.



A short walk to the lock shows one of the problems associated with this lock; a small but hazardous mud bank on the River Ouse approach.



This is submerged at high tide and gives no indication of its location or depth so it requires you to take a wide turn whether you're entering or leaving the lock. If you also have a high wind and/or a strong current to contend with, this can be a challenge to any narrowboater. See the wall of tyres with the colourful highlights!! So, listen very carefully to the Lock Keepers and do as they say!!!

During the afternoon, we walked the couple of miles down the west side of the River Ouse to Downham Market. This was a nice little jaunt in pleasant weather. Downham is nothing to shout home about but is worth a look. I had visited once before from the floating pontoon on the Relief Channel. Both approaches are fine.

We headed back to Ely and spent the rest of our holiday there basking in unseasonable sunshine.

We learnt that East Cams attempt to regularise the moorings situation has come unstuck. Apparently when they sought confirmation from the Home Office for their new Byelaws some problem with land ownership emerged.

Extract taken from The Ten Commandants of How to Avoid Egg on Face: Complete your homework before going public.

ECDC appear to have gone back to their office to regroup. Watch this space!

We had a day out in Kings Lynn by train. I think this only cost about four quid return so was very good value for money and as easy as it could be. It was fast, quiet and comfortable - a world away from how it used to be. 

The older part of Lynn, by the river is quaint, retaining much of its traditional character and has many places of interest. We spoke to the Harbour Master about going across the Wash and he was very helpful. We went into the Lynn Museum in the Old Police Station and a few other historic places. All the Lynnites we spoke were very friendly and helpful. I would recommend a visit.

By the way, the local District Council has improved the public moorings on the river. It's now a very nice floating pontoon with space for 4/5 boats depending on their size. Booking is essential. However, you should be aware that, for a boat the size of Skylark (60') it will cost you £27 for 24 hours. This seems a bit expensive to us especially when you can moor in Ely for free and get a train for £4. I suppose the moorings are useful if you are intending to go across the Wash and have to wait for the tide but I wouldn't bother otherwise. Go by train.

A day trip by train to Cambridge proved again how lucky we are to live so close to this fantastic historic city...



Another recommendation - if you are in the Ouse, you should visit the Ship Inn on the junction of the Little Ouse/Brandon Creek. Good beer, good music, good food and a good welcome. Need I say more?

Tuesday 27 May 2014

OCD or what?

Having just finished reading The Railway Man, I was quite interested to read about Eric Lomax's life-long pastimes which, you could have guessed included railways; not just in a casual 'train spotter' sort of way but in a 'life completely taken over' sort of way. 

He would collect timetables (old and new), visit train stations (far and wide), collect memorabilia (useful and not very) and find insufficient time to go to parties or have any girlfriends (there's a surprise). 

Even while he was captive in various POW camps in Burma, he would see occasional steam trains and carriages from all over the world and they would help him cope with his captivity. The film doesn't go into much detail about this but the book does.

He was also fanatical about lists; not just lists of trains he'd seen, train times and such like but lists of peoples, dates, places, things, etc. This helped him cope with his previous and later life in civvy street but also while he was locked up. 

Was he a bit OCD or what?

This got me wondering how OCD each one of us might be. So, in the interest of objective research I Googled OCD and took an on-line self-administered questionnaire. I scored 4 out of 40 which means I'm probably not OCD but could be if I asked a psychologist to look into my behavior.

So, not fully convinced of my soundness of mind, I started to list all the things that might push me towards uncontrollable OCDism. 

Things like:

  • Always needing to know where I am and where I am going.
  • Interested to know which way I'm facing: north, south, east, west or anywhere in between.
  • Wanting to know the weather forecast and where the wind or rain is likely to come from.
  • Keeping a detailed diary of appointments, holidays, other peoples appointments (where they may impact on me).
  • Keeping all my 'stuff' in a reasonable order so I know where everything is. 
  • Researching things, considering options and their implications before I do something major.
  • Keeping my internet files in military order.
  • Communicating well with internet sellers.
  • Maintaining a 100% feedback rating on eBay.
  • Keeping up my 3 Blogs.
  • Regularly checking emails, Facebook, Twitter, YouTube, etc.
  • Thinking about whether I'm OCD

I thought I ought to stop there because I think I know the answer and if anyone suggests I go and see a Shrink, don't bother. I'm quite happy with my 4/40 score. I just don't know where it came from or where I'm going with it.

Saturday 24 May 2014

Chicken run 2

In between showers and doing other things like tending to the local polling station for 18 hours, I have completed the chicken run at home.



Utilising my finely tuned design and building skills, coupled with sourcing the very best reclaimed materials from the back of my shed, it stands majestic in the corner of the garden just awaiting the arrival of its new occupants from the village of Mendlesham.

Molly's old kennel has been brought back into service as the brooding box, gash lengths of 2"x1" are being used as perches for them to roost on and we're now thinking about names, no, not for the chicken run, but for the chickens themselves. We will wait until we return from our trip to Northampton, but names that have already gone into the hat include Camilla, Fergie, Delia, Cilla and Kylie, and if we were having a cockerel, I think Gregory (Peck) would be a good one.

Anyway, I may post something before the trip but, then again, I may not.

Oh, a date for your diary - July 13th - the Street Fair in Needham Market. We're selling off a few more bits and pieces I have collected over the years as well as few items from my growing Ukulele collection.

This is a nice one you might be interested in...



Go on, you know you want to...