Snuff

Terry Pratchett has another novel out tomorrow, on Bethany's birthday, and although I know that Beth is not that interested in Mr P's literary output my mum would have been. It's at times like this that I really miss being able to just call her and discuss little things like books and cooking and have her respond as though it was the most important thing to her at that time. She loved all of Terry's books. I hope 'Snuff' is as good as I anticipate and I will be thinking of mum as I read.

Booking an isolated, quiet retreat...with WiFi!

Sausages aside I am really looking forward to the trip to the Shetlands, I started the book last night and to be honest I am finding this style of writing so much harder than anything I have attempted so far. For fiction writing a good imagination is the basis and origin for all good stories, for non-fiction in general and travel writing in particular I am finding the recounting of thoughts, feelings and emotions in reaction to the whole concept quite difficult. I guess it can form some a therapy of some fashion as I chase the banger, (sounded better than sausage) and encounter those at the selected destinations.

I chose the Shetlands as a starting pint for the trail as I believe that for the British the humble sausage is very special, the quotes from celebrities on the LovePork website are testament to this. The Shetland Islands have always, for me, embodied the bleakest beauty and majesty that the British Isles have to offer. Occupying, as they do, the Northernmost extremities of our country I decided that if I can find a strong sausage tradition there then, somehow, the rest of my odyssey would be fine. It struck me today that my selection of accommodation was performed with a certain degree of hypocrisy. I searched for an isolated, quiet, working croft away from the relative bustle of Lerwick. The place I found was in the West of the mainland and seems very quiet indeed. But, and this is daft, I did insist that wherever I stay must have Wifi and broadband, what a complete nob!! At least I can keep in touch with Emma and the kids though, gotta love Skype.

Sausage motivation

As Alan Partridge would say; 'I love a sausage, but not in that way!'

What a genius.

With the Shetland trip on the horizon a certain degree of internet research has taken place. I love the internet, if there is no answer then a clue is supplied. I was initially disappointed at the response from my host at Kalfordhame B & B in Western Mainland. He was English and seemed a little bemused at my aim to chase sausages. Thinking about it I really hope I gave the right impression.

I get the idea that the Shetland Islands are a place to experience rather than judge by research. In my search for sausage experience I really anticipate the Shetland experience. Lorne sausage, a flat mixture of beef and pork, was my initial aim but I now understand that the Shetland sausage spectrum is far more widespread.

Reestit mutton is a long enduring tradition in the islands and, thankfully, after a decline is enjoying a well deserved resurgence. The main focus of my trip, however, will be the search for 'Saucermeat', a Scottish intitution. I honestly feel quite excited about this, Sad? I accept that, but in the environs and surroundings of the Shetland Islands I will feel so much better.

Busy weekend and the Kwikfit diet.

Friday night at Solent Breezes, nothing different there, a few pints and then to bed. Saturday saw dad arrive just after eight after a fairly uneventful drive and ferry crossing. Saturday night was a rare opportunity for Emma and I to spend some time together. A wonderful meal at Gunwharf Quays at the great Italian restaurant Strada, lamb and anchovy really worked, then on to Tigetr Tiger for the Jongleurs comedy club. Three comedians and a magician, the compere was quick witted and pretty good at engaging the crowd, he warmed us up well and introduced the first act, Andrew Murrell, easily forgotten, a few titters but little more. I had attracted the attention of the staff as I kept using the quiet 'staff only' area to call Bill. His moped had broken down, again, and he was pretty upset, I accepted my admonishment and focussed back on the show. Following the opening act Rhodri Rhys, the compere, struggled to get us worked back up to a point sufficient to introduce the second act, I can't remember the magicians name but he was pretty good and his banter worked and kept the crowd in fine spirits. After the break the final act, Rick Right was introduced and proved to be the best of the night, cheers Rick!

Quiet day today, back at the caravan site to get dad settled. Half a bottle of Woods' rum and a fantastic Sunday roast (thanks Emsy) later he was very settled. Starting to plan 'The sausage trail' book now I have the basic itinerary scoped out. Have decided on a basic chronological approach with the fixed dates of the selected sausage festivals as a guide, the only exception to this is a trip to Munich which will see Emma and I sample the wurst the city has to offer (did you see what I did there?). I have linked my calendar to the blog so anyone interested, and at the moment there is no evidence that there is such an individual or individuals, can witness as the adventure unfolds.

The kwikfit diet? Two tyres later and I'm 230 pounds lighter, funny? No, not really. Never mind I have some decent stuff prepared for my gigs in November.

Obsession has a bad press

I have always been impressed with those obsessed. I don't mean extreme OCD nor do I mean scary irrational obsession, I refer instead to those perfectionist individuals who slip from passionate interest to obsessive following. They are the masters of their field and nearly always excel. These are those that we see at the top of their field, whatever that may be, at the expense of all else; family, relationships, holidays, hobbies and anything else that is not connected with the object of their obsession. In my mind it's the only way to excel, to rise to a pinnacle of achievement and shine like a stellar primus (I may have made that phrase up). That said I am not obsessive, just passionate and selfish, not quite the same but almost there.

Thanks to Andy on his message regarding the acceptance of chaos. Emma also questioned me on my need for order and planning, there is a simple answer to this. Just as the first casualty of a battle is the plan so the first casualty of a trip is the schedule. A plan is only that; a vague idea of what we would like to happen, without such the mayhem that ensues would give me no chance to recover.

The plan is made. Well, I have an idea now of what I am doing. The sausage trail is now really happening, the calendar on this blog will quickly fill up with my potential itinerary and subsequent alternatives. I will comment on this tomorrow.

My first trip, after the family visit to the lake district, will be the Shetland Islands for their food festival. Great place to start!!

The path to something or other...

At least one person read my blog yesterday and I am so very glad that she did, thank you Emma for listening and offering sound and very shrewd advice.

First off, Will thankfully, has quit his job. He was getting up at eight to arrive at work in Southampton for eleven then departing to wherever required. He would then work until 8PM at which time he would return to the office in Southampton to sign out and return home. Yesterday he was, ironically, working in Gosport. He trudged round Elson, Bridgemary and Gosport until 8PM at which time he returned to Southampton, finally getting home just before 11PM. Emma and I agreed that doing this six days a week for an amount which, after travel, would amount to less than £4/hour, pointless!

Secondly, Sam has all of the legal requirements to get himself on the road finally. Not in a car as the insurance is prohibitively extortionate, but rather on my Honda Cub 90. No, that's not correct anymore, Sam's Honda C90. As I write the boys are cruising around Gosport on their machines, nice one.

After yesterday I realised that I needed a plan, a way forward, a means to figure out how to bring together all of threads of my existing interests into something more coherent and manageable. I drew two lines on a piece of paper with the headings Writing, Travel and finally Other at the top of the resulting three columns to represent the areas of current interest. I realise that this was not very imaginative but it did reflect the three areas. Under 'Writing' I listed:

Sausage trail

Fighting spirit

Black Hound Publishing

Short stories

Timbuktu

All of these are in various stages of completeness with some not having been paid much attention for some time. Then, under the 'Travel' heading I listed:

Murmansk - July 2012

Mongolia? - September 2013

Round the world - 2014

Shetland islands (s)

Pig festival, Trie Sur Baise, France - August 2012

Romania (s)

Bulgaria (s)

Florence

Hungary (s)

Those with a (s) are designated of particular interest for The Sausage Trail.

Under the 'Other' heading I listed:

Ancestry

Stand-up

One of the insightful statements made by Emma last night regarded the scope of my plans. Trips to Timbuktu, Mongolia, Murmansk, Casblanca et al. are all very well but they take money, planning and above all time. Perhaps once a year or even once every two years these journeys are acceptable but planning one after the other is too much. Also the means of travel, as I mentioned yesterday is worth considering. A lengthy journey such as those mentioned should be planned sufficiently so that the participants can enjoy the time spent on the road and not just strive to achieve the goal, arrive at the final destination and as such these trips are special, they require forethought and adequate preparation, I have decided to isolate these and treat them as bonuses. If they happen that's great but if for any reason they don't I won't, from now anyway, be upset. This derives from the realisation, to which I eluded yesterday, that I can only plan for myself as far as travelling is concerned. This fact leaves all other items on my list as separate isolated opportunities or are they? That was supposed to be a mysterious pause, in reality it just made me sound like a twat.

I wandered a bit from the point I was trying to make so I'll start again. Emma made a very good point during our discussion last night which was to stick to small, short term trips. She's so honest and realistic it sometimes makes my pancreas ache. Thanks for that suggestion Emma.

Where was I regarding the remaining items on my list? Oh yes, they do have something in common, well most do, and those that do not can be easily categorised and planned. Yes, we are back to sausages once more. The sausage trail is reborn and becomes the focus for the foreseeable future. Destinations and writing projects can all be encompassed within this single subject. Let me explain.

I will be putting together a 'Sausage calendar' of my potential visits along the sausage trail with events and festivals. The book will be written on the way with an intended finish next August at the Pig Festival, La Pourcailhade in Trie Sur Baise in France. I can stick to Europe and travel directly, unfortunately, by plane. The rally events will still allow me to enjoy the experience of the journey, which ones I do has yet to be decided but they will, as mentioned, remain isolated from the sausage trail.

Following the travelling done over the past two years I had accrued sufficient points through Flybe to qualify for a free UK economy flight. This will be my first sojourn for a weekend somewhere within the UK, undecided yet but we'll see tomorrow.

What the @£%& to do?

I hate pauses. That's not wholly correct, what I do hate is inaction, inactivity on my part. Yesterday Will returned to Southampton for a second interview, ending up on the streets of Fratton, knocking on doors in an attempt to convince the population of Portsmouth that they really need cavity wall insulation. He did well and has been offered a full time position, well done Will. At the same time Sam was pootling around Gosport and surrounding environs on a motorcycle to gain his CBT. As a result when I arrived home Sam was somewhat tired and Will was still awaiting yet another interview. All very exciting but my point is that as I intended to make myself available to pick up Will if he needed it I sat, quietly and waited. Beth and Ed disappeared to bed and Sam sat engrossed in the world of Norrath. Emma and I sat quietly in the front room, the only discernible sounds, the faint ticking of the cuckoo clock above the fire, the tinny whisper of Sam's magical ministrations within the world of Everquest 2 and the background honk of 'Tash from the pub vomiting into the bin. This idyllic scene seemed frozen in time for a brief second, my mind relaxed and it was though the constant rush of my life ceased and I was aware of my surroundings for the first time. It was a punctuated pause in a busy stream of non-stop activity, a comma within the usual melee of family and professional existence. Emma sat nervously, fidgeting and occasionally glancing at her watch. Although I was concerned about Will she was even more so. This was the pause, a point when I realised I had not stopped for a second for god knows how long.

Emma is content with quiet calm, in certain circumstances I am too, usually in her company and usually somewhere steeped in history and culture. Romania was a perfect example as was Kingswear castle. Both instances when we could both let go and relax, enjoy each others company in stunning surroundings. This pause was different, it was due, in the main part, to the fact that the boys and Beth were doing their own thing. Beth was in her room. Ed asleep, but the older boys were engaged in activities of their choice without any influence from either me or Emma. This was a taste of things to come. All of my plans for travel and writing projects will almost certainly have to figure without the boys, Will and Sam won't want to follow their Dad around the world to locations that don't interest them. I have always needed a number of projects ticking along to keep me sane, I am so grateful that Emma allows me this personal space, without her understanding I would have gone mental years ago.

I have been reading a lot of travel books, Underground London by Stephen Smith, And did those feet by Charlie Connally and now Dave Gorman vs The rest of the world by, surprisingly enough, Dave Gorman. This following Eat my Globe by Simon Majumdar has opened my eyes to themes and interests to explore when travelling. My original idea of 'The sausage trail' still appeals but I feel there needs to be more to any purpose for travel than just that.

The idea of travelling for the sake of travelling alone was initially appealing but following the Timbuktu trip I realised that without a purpose and continuing interest to proceed there exists little more than the ambition to reach the destination. The journey becomes secondary to the goal and to mind this will almost certainly ensure that the potential to meet and interact with people on the way is sorely reduced. The speed of the journey is important also. Flying into a destination has little appeal for me now, in fact driving a car over large distances in a short period of time, such as the Calais to Casablanca jaunt, also instills little excitement.