Barcelona - December 2008

As Michelle was to spend Christmas in England, an end of year visit to Spain was formulated and executed. After having had to change my flight time a couple of times and using that ricketty bone shaker of an English train network, I arrive early afternoon at the airport. No hassles, no delays later and I am standing in Barcelona airport. Train to the city, one to Sabadell and I am meeting Michelle.

Greetings exchanged and we are off to the supermarket, a rough outline of what we intend to do for the next few days dictates our requirements. This all done and dusted we proceed to drop everything at home then we are are off out again, this time to eat and be entertained. Taditional salad for me and a lasagne, and for Michelle soup and sausages (not together, that would be......hmmmm).

Now for the evenings entertainment, an Arabian Orchestra, at a venue where you are actually allowed to smoke, and smoke some people do. The tell tale sweet smell of a herbal kind permiates the air, while the band entertains with all kinds of emotional Arabic soundscapes. many pictures are taken and some video shot. They are most enjoyable, and different, a refreshing change at the end of a rather hectic day.

Next day, Michelle is working, so I sleep in, mooch about the place and wait until Michelle gets home, beer and chat follows.

Friday is a day of work for both of us, Michelle has the day off, so we set to work tidying up the patio and stockpilling logs. Wood is gathered for laters BBQ. A BBQ in December you may question the logic in this, but it was a glorious day, we had bought suitable supplies the previous day, and so we set about grilling it all before the sun went down. Spanish black pudding, ribs, goat and some bacon, hmmmmmm. Many beers are drunk before darkness decends, and the wind ends our time outside.


Saturday was a trip to the city, for I had a personal mission to complete. My mum had asked me to take some of my dad's ashes and to place them in the sea, he was a sailor for 10 years after all, so some part of hime belonged there. A suitable place was found and a moments reflection undertaken and it was all done. We had intende to eat in Barcelona, a traditional Paella, so many visits I have made here, and never have i sampled this traditional dish, but all was in vain, as the restaraunt we had intended to eat at was so busy, we had to leave it for another time.


So it was off back to the Sagrada Familia, that magnificent cathedral never fails to impress me. As it was the beginning of December a market open just outside the cathedral, selling all kind of Spanish Christmassy wares, logs with faces, figurines for your nativity scene, and the obligitory little shitting man, 'The Caganer'. I had to treat myself to one, so bought myself a little shitting Yoda. We had hoped to bump into Gabi's brother Luca, as he usually has a stall on here, but unfortunately he was not around, but we managed to track him down to a local cafe, so we joined him and had a coffee.

So we left the city behind and headed back home to treat ourselves to a takeaway pizza. All wa going well until Michelle found a nail clipping in one of them, not nice. So we were down to one pizza, which was consumed with care and washed down with sangria.

Sunday was my last full day here, so we had a bit of a lazy day, lounged around the house, took the dogs for a local walk, finished off the meat we had bought, and generally did nothing.

Next day, hassle free flight, home sweet home.


click here for more pictures

Strawberry Duck - October 2008

As Kirsty and Pla had ventured north to mark the event that was Kirsty's 40th birthday, we decided to meet up and drink beer, the location for this mass consumption would be the Strawberry Duck, former venue for many a drunken night out. The Duck was one of the only pubs in the area at which you had a wide variety of real ale, and for our return visit, we hoped that this would still be the fact. Luckily for us it was still home for many an oddly monikered ale of three.

Those attending this cold wet evening would be Pla, Kirsty, Kieran, Sandra, Myself, Lee and Gillian (Sandra's sister), she had nothing better to do and is taking the picture.

Merriment and consumption of ale began, continued though a game of musical chairs, well we moved from one room to another, and ended via the train back to Blackburn in the Napier. Fortunately this pub had quite a few more fellow drinkers than the Duck, a bit sparse was the Duck, the barstaff nearly outnumbered the patrons.

gallery

Strawberry Duck - October 2008

As Kirsty and Pla had ventured north to mark the event that was Kirsty's 40th birthday, we decided to meet up and drink beer, the location for this mass consumption would be the Strawberry Duck, former venue for many a drunken night out. The Duck was one of the only pubs in the area at which you had a wide variety of real ale, and for our return visit, we hoped that this would still be the fact. Luckily for us it was still home for many an oddly monikered ale of three.

Those attending this cold wet evening would be Pla, Kirsty, Kieran, Sandra, Myself, Lee and Gillian (Sandra's sister), she had nothing better to do and is taking the picture.

Merriment and consumption of ale began, continued though a game of musical chairs, well we moved from one room to another, and ended via the train back to Blackburn in the Napier. Fortunately this pub had quite a few more fellow drinkers than the Duck, a bit sparse was the Duck, the barstaff nearly outnumbered the patrons.

click here for more pictures

A Painfull Loss

On the 10th of October 2008, my father was taken from us. No warnings, no illness, nothing. One minute he is taking stuff upstairs for my mum, the next a massive heart attack, and his no longer with us. Unfortunately i was in Cornwall at the time, and so had to rapidly get myself back up to Blackburn. Pla and Kirsty did all they could to help me, even offering to drive me home, but a flight was available and was booked.

The next few days were a surreal blur, but arrangements had to be made.

His funeral was in a strange way a happy occasion, the minister we had for the service had talked with me at length about my father and so was able to say a few kind and yet personal words on our behalf. Me my brother and sister all wanted to say a few words in tribute, but it was left to me to say what we all felt.

We even managed to get some of his favorite music played during the service, which even had a few feet tapping to the sounds of Jackie Wilson.

He was my hero, my teacher, my guide.
Taught me to swim, ride a bike,
and encouraged me in whatever i was interested in.
He taught me how to be the person i am today.

I always looked up to him,
and despite having the same shoe size,
i could never fill them.
He will never leave me,
and his mark will stay with me forever.
I have his bald spot to prove it.

Always in my heart.
Love you and miss you.

One strange request he had was for a brass band to be playing at his funeral, we have no idea where that came from, but due to practicality this was not possible, but back at my mothers we raised our rum filled glasses to him and had a brass band version of Sweet Georgia Brown playing while we toasted him.

Friends and family have been very supportive and understanding, and i thank you all for this.

Since then we have all had our moments of sadness and joy when thinking about him, but he will always be with us. As a tribute we have purchased a tree at Pleasington Cemetary, so we have somewhere to go to when we feel that need.

Dad, you are not sleeping
Just resting your eyes
You will always be with me
In Thought, and my heart

Love you and miss you
David x

Cornwall October 2008

So finally i made it to Cornwall this year, what with one thing and another, no festival, an early Easter, and no slots being available at the Plirsty summer house of fun. Anyway, i was here, standing on the beach with both Pla and Kirsty, watching Mango dive into the sea to retrieve as many stones as your arm could hurl.

Unfortunately due to circumstances beyond my control my visit was to be cut shot, but despite this, we had a great time, eating out, watching the sunset, even seeing Willow in her Harvest Festival. But it was Friday night which was to rock my world forever.

As per usual many pictures were taken during my brief visit, and can be viewed at the usual place, or by clicking the title at the top of this entry.

Back to Blackpool, 27th September 2008

So here we are again, twice in the same year, what is going on you may ask, well the answer is really quite simple. My good friend Kasia, had invited her friend Jola to England for a few months and so we decided to treat her to a visit to Blackpool. Is this really a treat? Well for someone who had never experienced the tackyness that is the pool of black, seeing is believing.


Fingers were crossed that the weather would be good, for the majority of this summer we have not had many days of sun, you could probably count them on Beadles stunted fingers. But hope springs eternal, and we were gifted with a clear day, hurrah for us. So off we went, bumped on our way on Englands wonderful train network, and arrived in that pool of black and began our day of fun.


First port of call was to see the sea, and then the wanderings began. Beach based meanderings, and donkey spotting followed, and was ended at this stage with a beer on a pier. Feeling hungry we backtracked to Harry Ramsdens for traditional fish and chips, and another beer. Two surprises here, first being that you can have a beer with your food, and secondly that we would be served by Polish waitresses, for both Kasia and Jola are Polish also.

Bellies full it was time to roll those balls again and race the horses. Many games later Kasia emerged victorious, and was rewarded with a stuffed purple rabbit. More meanderings followed and retreatings to another pier for more beer and watch the sunset. Braving the chilly evening air no more, we headed inside to finish our beer before heading back for our return journey and to gaze longingly at the pretty lights. It is just a pity we only had a short time to look at the illuminations, but we did have a train to catch.

Our cameras had been clicking and shuttering all day, so it was a relief to sit down on yet another prime example of Englands train network, and bump our way home. I think that may be it for Blackpool this year, but you never know, it may have a third visit in the pipeline, who knows.

On Being 40

So it's finally here, the huge landmark in the grand scheme of things, a time where life is supposed to begin, the midlife crisis, time to re-assess ones priorities, to take stock of what has gone before, ponder the inevitable.

For me, it's just another birthday, only this time with more food and presents. An excuse to get old and new friends together, have a laugh, for 40 isn't that old now now that i a actually here. But at 16, 40 seems such a long way away and a place where you got 'old'.

Do I feel any different, have I suddenly gotten old overnight, do my teeth reside in a glass by the bed at night. Has my mind started to fail me, and joint pain starting to keep me awake at night. Well some of these things are true, but have been for quite a while, but do I feel 40...........NO.

Personally I think I am growing old gracefully, dignified and with a little style. I make no attempts to disguise the fact I am going bald, my eye sight is what it is, and my little beer belly is still there. As for a midlife crisis, what midlife, my life is what it is and people who know me, know me and all agree, age is a state of mind.

I still like to go out, even though hangovers take a few days to get over. Music still has to be played loud and not because I qam going a little deaf, it just has to be. Ok I have no idea who is in the top 40, but have I ever?

Do I regret anything from the last 40 years, no. For there is no use in regret, for you cannot change anything, and if you could, you would not know if you had anyway.

So what for the future, who knows, just keep enjoying my life the way I have always have.

To all those who helped me celebrate my 40th, cards, pressies, food, drink, I thank you all. It meant a lot to me, for friends and family are more important than anything. See you for the next 40.

The Big 40

Finally here, so here are a few pictures for you to laugh at.

I am nearly 40

Counting down, three weeks to go.....

Time is a relative construct, and so must be our age. Maturity, wisdom, factors on how we face the world. Either an old head on young shoulders or young on old. It's all a state of mind.

I don't think i am trying to validate the fact that i will be 40 soon, but i don't feel 40. Yes i am losing a bit of hair, and yes i do have a bit of a belly, but mentally i don't feel 40. New people i have met and become friends with all say i don't look 40 ( i hope they are telling the truth and not just being polite). But the fact remains, i will be and there is nothing you or i can do to change that.

I see guys older than me trying desperately hard to stay looking young. Hair dye, clothes, i am sorry look your age, or at least don't make a fool out of yourself. Yes i used to dye my hair, and wear wild and wacky clothes, but that was when i was much younger, and i am not saying that we must adopt the pipe and slippers just yet. If you must wear clothes that you think make you look younger, do it with a bit of pride, someone may well be laughing at you, or think you are on some fancy dress do.

Some say life begins at 40, but my life started when i was born, and will end when i die. it's how you live your life, that's what matters. Make good friends, look after your family, and enjoy yourself. It's the only one you've got.

Unless you are immortal that is.

Blackpool - Same s**t different decade.

Day trip to Blackpool, Saturday 2nd August 2008

It's been over 10 years since i last went to Blackpool, why? Well it lost it's appeal to me. Gone are the days of playing on the beach, makind sandcastles, visiting the Dr Who exhibition, spending hours queuing up to be hurled around a ricketty old track on the Pleasure Beach. But that being said, it was about time i revisited good old Blackpool and see how i felt many many years since my last visitation.

So joining me on this trip down memory lane would be my good friend Kasia (friend only, nothing more), as it was she who suggested this day trip.

Early Saturday morning we met up at thew bus stop and made our way to the train. Being daring and throwing caution to the wind, we are both wearing shorts, well my legs do need to get out once in a while. The journey in unremarkable apart from on pulling into Preston the skies open and torrents of rain soak the station. Is this a sign of things to come? The train slowly fills up as we get closer to Blackpool, and an old traditional game re-enters my mind, who will be the first to spot the tower. As i am the only one playing, i am obviously the winner as Kasia if sound asleep.

We arrive at the Pleasure Beach and decide to disembark here and begin our grand footstomp. The first thing i notice is the smell, there is none, well just a whiff. Gone is the stench of shit and fish that usally permiated the air, now you can actually smell the sea, just (the whiff). Venturing forth we skirt around the amusdement palace, queuing is olympic and it's barely 11am. It's here i begin to see how Blackpool has changed, new sea defences are being erected and here down by the south pier, the promenade is looking quite good, alost modern with random pieces of art scattered here and there.

Shades shorts and shirts soon became a slended idea as the sun did shine beyond the duration of our visit, our attire was quite sedate and normal compared to some sights that befel our shaded vision. That being the obligiatory ' let's go to Blackpool for our hen/stag party' brigade. On the whole the code would be matching printed t-shirts and cowboy hats, with the subject of the impending nuptuals being a little more flamboyant or obvious. The odd eccentric would be evident with full regency costumes and Borat swim suits being worn, depending upon the level of intoxication.

Kiss me quick hats lie along side assorted flavours of rock, as befits Blackpool, for some things do not change. That can be said of the music played in the bars and small rides dotted around the piers, with dodgy 80's megamixes and Agadoo in constant rotation for the last 30 years. Maybe it's some kind of timewarp, or it has some kind of subliminal effect that causes the listener to return here like some crazed salmon, year after year.

Traditions have to be maintained, and personal one for me was about to be revisited. For here at Blackpool, the Dr Who exhibition has returned from it's adventures in time and space. I too would have an assistant for this bold adventure, in form of Kasia, a recent viewer of this TV classic. You see, as a small boy we as a family, would often visit Blackpool for the day, and as my younger brother and sister played on the beach, i would wander for hours inside this temple of wonderment. Now i am an adult, how does it feel to revisit all this. Well, it's all a bit geeky, the exhibits comprise mostly of old costumes and replicas of crap monsters. But Besssie the car was there, so a quick photo opportunity arose and was taken. All in all a nice trip down memory lane, but not worth the entrance fee. Saying that, explaining my childhood Who fascination to Kasia was strangely geeky, but entertainingly funny.

Second tradition is easy, when in Blackpool, what do you eat. Fish and chips. So off to Harry Ramsdens for a splendid plate of, guess what, fish chips and mushy peas. Kasia did not expect the peas to be mushy, which did raise a few chuckles, but splendid food anyway.

A quick saunter on the beach followed the feed, not that there was much sand to walk on, the tide must have been having a lazy day. Those who wished to tempt fate dipped more than a toe in the sea, but not us, we had games to play.


We found one of those horse racing games, the one with the balls, lanes and point scoring holes, where if successfull, scoring causes your horse to travel a measured amount. Unfortunately six games each bore no fruit, but plenty of excitement and hilarity. Next was the car racing simulator, not being a driver, my ability to keep the car on the track is questionable. FGood job it's only virtual.

Nearing the end of our day, we retired to a bar and consumed alcohol. Orderly queuing at the bar i ask you, what next, a rain free day? So off home we went, a little pinker than we started. Cheap B&B's are an option for a further visit, possibly for the lights, but that is another date in time. It's home for a late home made curry and more beer.